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boldlyvoid · 4 years ago

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ain't it fun? | Part five

Summary: reader just needs an NA meeting before they have a meltdown, they end up with the best friend they could ever make.

Warnings: pregnancy, chronic illness, spencer's career chance - he's a high school teacher now, they have a 1-year-old, smut at the end but not graphic.

word count: 2.8k

a/n: I imagine this is in season 10, so they've been together at least 7 years-ish now, I just jumped well into the future because I wanted to! also, Cordelia's nickname is Edie and pronounced Ee-dee !!

P1 P2 P3 P4

“No.”

Spencer sighs, “are you going to like any of my suggestions?”

“When you give me a baby name that isn’t from some weird old male book character, then yes, I’ll take them into consideration,” she replies, hand on her stomach as she lays back against the pillows.

She was huge, 9 months pregnant and so, so close to the finish line. She was swollen and in pain and exhausted. Going off every single medication and recreational drugs to make a life was a commitment and a half, she was doing well but she was so ready to be done. To do a few more months of breastfeeding and then go back on her medications.

Spencer was terrific. He was googling and asking Penelope to research things, he had called doctors he knows and friends and did everything in his power to find a way to ease her pain even before they got pregnant. He’s taken the last 3 months off of work and he doesn’t know when he’ll go back. He has just been so, so incredible the whole time.

Naming a child was hard. You had to not only think about all the nicknames and what their initials spell, but you also had to think about how they’ll like it; if it’ll fit their personality and spirit. And most of all, is it going to get them bullied? There are some terrible kid names. Like Richard… how do you name a newborn Richard?

“I want something meaningful with a nice nickname and works with our names and her siblings,” she whispered towards him. “They need to all work together.”

“What are some of your favourites?” He asks, moving in closer and finding a way to cuddle in with her and her pregnancy pillow who has all but replaced him lately.

“I like earthy names, like Lennox, Juniper, Aspen, Elowen,” her voice is really soft, she bites her lip at the end as she thinks them over again. “And old things like Cordelia and Winnifred.”

“Which one sounds the best with Reid?”

“I like Cordelia Reid the most, and then we can call her Edie and I was thinking you can pick her middle name?” She’s been thinking about it for a while, but too afraid to know his opinions.

“Cordelia means core in Latin, which makes sense cause she already has my heart,” Spencer teased, he has made it very clear that their little girl is going to be spoiled, loved and a daddy's girl.

He took all his fears of being a bad dad and threw them out the window. He knew that just being there was all he wanted from his dad, and so that’s what he was going to do. He left the BAU for the time being, he was doing the odd lecture at the academy and answering calls for cases. They couldn’t just stop using his brain, there were some things too pressing to not ask the walking computer, but other than that, he was done.

He was looking into other jobs for when he finally decides to go back, he was unsure how long of a paternity leave he wanted. He was really content with just staying home all the time now, but he did miss going out and being useful during the days. The job he was most interested in, however, was a high school teacher.

A prep school in DC is looking into adding an Anthropology, Psychology and Sociology course to their curriculum, and they wanted Spencer. They thought he would be perfect for the seniors, he is fun and young and attentive, he can control a room and keep them entertained, and he’s probably the best teacher a kid could get.

It was going to make him a good dad too.

“I think Jade is a nice middle name,” he adds after thinking it over for a few minutes.

“Cordelia Jade Reid,” she says the full name for the first time and it just feels right, like they already know her.

—

She was very calm for a newborn baby.

She liked to just look around and blink, she licked her lips a lot and she was constantly breaking out of her swaddle. She was always happy to have cuddles with her dad and she pooped every night at exactly at 3 am, without fail. She didn’t cry a lot, but when she did it was still wonderful to hear.

They were so in love with her, she was absolutely perfect for them. She fit right into their sleeping schedule and their life, she ate like a pro, she slept most of the night and she was growing way too fast for their liking.

One day they’re crying over the fact they made a life in a tiny little hospital room, and the next thing they know she’s about to turn 1.

She’s sitting in bed with Y/N, she’s sitting in her lap with two handfuls of hair and a story to tell. She’s been babbling so much lately, she hears them talking all the time and she wants to join so badly. They indulge her, asking her to continue her thoughts and gasping at her gossip.

“No way, and what did you do next?!” She asked the little one sat in her lap.

Edie babbled on once more, smacking her tongue on the roof of her mouth as she pushed air past her vocal cords, humming and making the funniest sounds. She went on and on, she was so enthusiastic, like her father, as she waved her arms around to make her point.

“That is so fascinating, you are so cool, little Edie,” Y/N hyped her up, smiling at her as she leaned in close and pressed their noses together.

Cordelia laughed and it finally made Spencer giggle too, he had been watching from the doorway as his ‘wife’ and daughter talked in bed. They were best friends already, always talking and snuggling, learning or reading together. She was always happy when she was with one of them, she was needy and snuggly and very co-dependent but they didn’t mind, they preferred all the attention from her.

“Look who’s home,” Y/N whispered and Cordelia shot a glance towards the door, she smiled and screamed as she saw him.

“Hi Edie!” He waves at her with a smile, he takes his bag off and places it by the dresser followed by his blazer.

He gets into the bed and she instinctively reaches for a hug. He wraps her up and she snuggles right into his neck, with a fistful of his shirt, she just holds him there. She didn’t understand why he wasn’t home all day anymore, she missed him for lunch and at nap time but she loved the new routine of a snuggle when she woke up and he got home.

Spencer leans back against the pillows beside Y/N, turning his head to capture a kiss from her lips. They always just spend a quick second kissing when he gets home, even if it’s just a peck or a full-on passionate make-out, he always kisses her when he comes home. He smiles at the end of the kiss, pulling her into a hug too.

“I love Fridays,” he whispers, “Edie do you know what Fridays mean?”

She pulls away and sits up, she loves to listen to him. “Friday is the last day of the school week, which means I get to spend 2 whole days with my favourite people now.”

Edie smiled, almost like she understood what he meant, and then she was talking again, it was completely incomprehensible but they imagined she was telling him about her day.

“You forgot the part where we went to the park,” Y/N added.

Cordelia looked at her with wide eyes, “dada,” was the only word she said before babbling on again and they both stopped.

“Did she just?” Spencer was shocked and frozen still after asking.

Y/N sat up and looked right into Cordelia’s eyes, “who is that?” She pointed at Spencer.

“Dada!” She said it again and they were suddenly all squealing, even Cordelia was suddenly excited as she kept screaming dada over and over again.

“Can you say, mom? Or mama? Mummy?” Spencer tried his hardest to find an easy way for her to say it.

“Mumm,” she pushed her lips together to hum her M sound and Spencer was floored, he bounced her up and down a small amount as they cheered.

“Smartest girl in the world!” Spencer cheered her on before pulling her into another hug.

Y/N was crying softly, little tiny dreams that she didn’t even know she had were coming true every single day with them. She knew she wanted to be a mom when she was growing up, all those dreams died when her illness got worse and they all warned her that having kids would put her at risk of being moneyless and that working wasn’t an option to even support them. Let alone the threat of them taking them away just because of her autism or depression possibly being considered ‘too bad’ to care for them.

Spencer took all those fears and he kicked them out. Every day she got to experience the most precious gifts the world had to offer, her daughter was perfect and her husband was incredible. Together they were a perfect little family that ran on trust, love, and communication. Always talking, always hugging, always there for each other.

—

They crawl into bed much later than they expected to. Cordelia didn’t want to go to bed, she was trying her hardest to keep staying awake to spend time with them but eventually, sleep won. They finally placed her in her crib with her white noise and her complete darkness and closed her door for the next few hours of peace.

They both let out a deep sigh before rolling to face one another. “How was your day?” He asks, like always.

“Good,” she smiles, “I think having a kid and getting on her schedule was the best thing I’ve ever done actually, cause I’m sleeping on time, I’m eating when she does and I’m outside a lot more. She’s given me this purpose and it’s rewarding on my body.”

Spencer moves in so he can kiss her nose, “I love hearing that.”

“How was your class today?” She asks back, loving his little stories about all the 17 and 18-year-olds that were fascinated by him. As well as the kids who thought it was cool to try and pick on him before getting the shit verbally kicked out of them in front of the whole class.

It was interesting seeing him in a form of authority, he never really took charge at the BAU, she’s never seen him yell at his friends and he’s never really yelled at her either. He’s been incredibly calm, so to see him verbally tear someone apart by acknowledging their biggest flaws to make sense of why they feel the need to bully, it was pretty intense.

“They were a lot better today, they enjoyed the lesson and the kids that were giving me trouble skipped, I guess he really didn’t appreciate me calling him out that bad on Tuesday,” Spencer smirked, rolling his eyes like he cared.

“I still can’t believe that he thought it was okay to call you names in front of other students, where is the respect these days?”

“Well,” he’s about to do what he always does. He can never be truly mad at someone because he knows why everyone does what they do and that they can’t help it. “In his file, it says his parents are newly divorced, we get a list of all the kids information on the attendance like allergies and things, but also small info like life changes in case they act out.”

“Doesn’t mean he can call you the f slur,” she whispers, “all because you wore a purple shirt?”

“If I met his father I’d probably get an answer for that,” he adds, “if he’s afraid to show his emotions around his son, it’s probably why his son thinks colours are gay.”

It makes her laugh, “you look hot in purple too so I don’t see the problem?”

“Do I?” He teases, getting in even closer and pressing their bodies together.

She rolls her eyes before wrapping her arms around him and leaning forward for a quick kiss, “I think you look sexy all the time.”

He kisses her as a thank you, “I think the same about you.”

“Even when I haven’t showered in 2 days because she cries if she can’t see me and she cries if she gets wet?” Y/N laughed, annoyed but in love with their little monster at the same time.

“Always,” he reminds her. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she kisses him again after.

There are probably a million more things to share from the day, but they spend their time kissing instead. It’s been too long since they’ve just rolled around in the sheets making out like they did in the beginning. Before they ever had sex, before they had kids and a house and a love as strong as they do now.

A part of them missed the early days when everything was new and exciting, but she also loved the fact that they knew each other so well that they didn’t have to communicate anymore. They ran like 1 unit, always completing the other person's thoughts, needs and wants. They were so unbelievably happy.

She wants him badly and he wants her just as much, and he’s about to take her when she pulls back. “Nope, as much as I love her I can’t get pregnant again for at least another year.”

It makes him laugh as he pulls away and rolls over to look through his nightstand for a condom, “it wouldn’t be that bad?”

“You carry it then, seahorse it up,” she teased. “I like being back on my medicine, I need some time to be okay before I go through all that again.”

Once he’s all situated in the latex and back between her legs, he hovers over her, so close that their lips are touching ever so slightly. “I am fine if it’s just the three of us forever.”

“I’m not,” she smiles, “there will be 4 of us one day, just not today.”

With that, she’s pulling him into another kiss as he pushing inside. It’s a feeling she’s accustomed to but will never be used to, it’s a stretch that shouldn’t be as intoxicating as it is. She holds him closer as she plays with his tongue in her mouth.

He was so good at everything he did, especially the sex. He knew every single part of her body now and exactly how to push all her buttons the right way. She could live in the moment of his pumping in and out of her while his thumb circled her clit and his other hand groaned her breasts. Eventually, he kissed down her throat and she was a mess of breathy moans and low gasps.

Writing in the sheets, her legs wrap around him as she tried to pull him in even closer. It was impossible to get closer but he was still too far away, she wanted to absorb him and live in him forever. He was her safe place and she never wanted to be anywhere else.

As her orgasm bubbled, so did his. The both of them gasping and panting, she whined as she breached the edge and gripped his back, “Spence!”

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he whispered before fucking into her harder and faster, pushing her through it as he reached his own.

His movements on her clit never stopped and suddenly one felt like two and she wasn’t sure when the rush was going to stop and she didn’t care when it did. It was powerful, soothing and euphoric. A high she could live in for a while and return to it without problem as long as she had him.

He came with a small moan, trying to keep quiet as he muffled it into her neck, stilling his hips on his last thrust and dropping onto her more. Her hands were all over his back as she pressed kisses to his forehead, coming down but not wanting the love to stop there.

The love was never going to stop there for them. Their love was never-ending, and somehow as she held him there in her arms and felt his breath on his neck, she turned to see the baby monitor with their peaceful child sound asleep down the hall, she loved him even more now somehow.

Loving Spencer Reid was like falling down a bottomless pit. She never knew when she was going to reach the end, but she was content with falling.

smut taglist: @g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #aint it fun

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lihikainanea · 3 years ago

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Did tiger and bill ever go through like a phase where tiger kind of had to get used to bill thinking of her? Like she wasn't really used to being someone's first choice, like someone thinking about what she might like or want. To have someone frankly just think of you. I'm sorry to be a bother. Just feeling kind of bad lately, and could use some sweet bill. Sorry again.

First of all boo, please don't ever be sorry for sliding into my DMs. I love hearing from you guys, especially if you're not doing that well. I'm all ears, and this blog is a safe space for everyone--so pull up a chair and stay awhile. I, and our two favourite idiots, would be nothing if it weren't for all the amazing asks that you guys send to me <3

Secondly, I love this train of thought because I think it is very, very true. And it probably started back at the beginning of their friendship, right? Yes, it did. Follow me down this rabbit hole.

Bill doesn't make a lot of new friends because since the whole fame thing, he has trouble trusting people--and Bill, by nature, is a caretaker. He's extremely nurturing. He provides. He takes care of those close to him, in one way or another. But he knows his own empathic side, he knows its limits and boundaries, and one of the worst things he can do for his own well being is care about too many people. Get involved with too many people. Bill is happiest amongst his close group of friends, people he knows he can trust, people he can cook dinner for and host movie nights for and fly halfway around the world when he has a premiere.

And tiger, for her part--my girl tiger, she has zero self-preservation skills. Like, none. And Bill is fascinated by that. He's fascinated by this little fireball who not only has no idea who he is, but who subsequently really couldn't give a shit once she found out. He's enamoured with this little scrappy ball of ire who is convinced not only that she can start a bar fight with everyone in the pub, but that she can legitimately win. Bill's never seen anything like it. And once you meet tiger, she's impossible not to love. Or at least, it's impossible not to be intrigued by her, and to want to know more.

But the thing is, that firecracker personality and the massive chip on her shoulder doesn't come from nowhere--tiger's been hurt a lot. And it's because she never goes for the good guys. For as much as Bill has an empath side, tiger has the self-destructive kind where she wants to fix people. And she always goes for the dudes who will take and take and take, the dudes who play rope a dope with her heart, and who leave her shattered. Tiger gives her soul away too easily, and she takes it as a challenge when she's tossed to the side by some guy who was never worth her time anyway. She tries to prove she's worthy.

But then in comes Bill--this big, wall-eyed, kind of freaky looking dude who seems nice and kind and is moderately soft spoken. And when they hang out, Bill starts showing a genuine interest--platonically, of course--but it's genuine. He asks what she does for a living. He asks if she likes it. He wants to know where she went to school, what she studied. Does she have any siblings? Because he has a lot, and he knows how tough big families can make you. When tiger can't decide if she wants the chilli fries or the chicken wings one night at a pub, Bill tells her to get both--and that's when she knew they'd be friends.

And it slowly but surely escalated from there--still all platonic at the beginning--but suddenly, Bill was asking her how she was getting home, if she needed a ride. He was asking her how her week was, when everyone got together on Friday--and if she had mentioned something big previously, a meeting or a presentation or something--he'd remember, and ask her how it went. If he left the bar early, he'd politely ask her if she could text him when she got home.

"Why?" she scoffed.

"Because somebody needs to look out for you," he answered honestly. Tiger, in true fashion, balked awkwardly.

And this is where her defence mechanism started to fly up. Because when you're not used to being cared for, when you're not used to genuinely mattering to someone or hell even just getting the attention of a truly good person--it's weird. It's awkward. It's scary as hell and requires a level of vulnerability that tiger isn't ready to let exist--because it would mean that she would have to admit to herself that she is worthy. That this is the norm, and that she deserves this. That she knowingly let herself settle for being treated like shit for so many years.

And tiger's first defence is always anger. So maybe she started getting real snippy with him, probably well into their friendship by this point--so Bill was cooking for her, and if he wasn’t then he was checking in to make sure she ate at least one vegetable that day. If she had a date, he would wait until she texted him that she was in for the night--whether that was at the guy’s place or hers. If she needed a ride home in the morning then he would pick her up, in all of her walk of shame glory--but he’d pick her up with a few Advil, some big sunglasses, a huge coffee. And he would absolutely make fun of her nefarious, ill-fated decisions but he’d always wait at least 12 hours before he dared.

But to go even further--you are absolutely right. Bill does put her first. Once she is solidified as his best friend, then there’s no going back--she comes first. And part of it is Bill really is legitimately concerned because tiger has no self preservation skills and he worries that if HE doesn’t concern himself over her, then tiger will just like...her reckless decisions will be her undoing. He must look after Little Human, because Little Human’s self-destructive streak is far too prevalent. He has left dates in the dust when she needed his help. He looks out for her in group settings, and intervenes if some idiot is getting too handsy with her. If he has a boys night that night but tiger calls crying because some idiot broke her heart, or crying because it’s shark week and she’s out of gummy bears--then Bill is there. In a heartbeat, he’s there. She comes first.

And I’ll bet it’s all very nice, but it also kind of has tiger seething. Because she’s not used to this kind of...care. The genuineness of it. And tiger can’t be vulnerable enough to admit that part of her likes it, part of her feels safe knowing that even in the wee hours of the morning, Bill is awake and waiting for her to let him know she got in safely. Part of her kind of likes this idea that someone is thinking of her, that someone prioritizes her. But it’s still tiger, so she also gets hella mad. And she seethes--for a long time, she seethes. Quietly. And then maybe it all just comes to a head one night when she goes over to Bill’s place after work and he has a crisp glass of white wine waiting for her, a change of clothes, even her favourite make up remover--the kind that doesn’t sting, because she has sensitive skin. And all of that pisses her off, but then she walks into the kitchen as he’s deftly cleaning and slicing mushrooms.

“How did it go?” he asks casually. Tiger plays dumb.

“How did what go?” she swigs her wine.

“The meeting with your boss today.”

“...Fine,” she mumbles, petulantly. Of course he’d remember that, even though she told him two weeks ago.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he offers kindly. Tiger sees an errant pile of green onions on his chopping board, and she eyes them wearily but somewhat triumphantly. Bill heads to the fridge, pulls out a bowl of salad, then he tosses the green onions in. Perfect, she thinks, and it gives her a weird sense of satisfaction. Mr. Nice Guy, Mr. Considerate, doesn’t even remember what she considers to be the most significant thing about her. That she hates green onions. She feels triumphant, renewed. Somewhat weirdly comforted to confirm that perhaps she doesn’t mean that much to him.

Until he heads back to the fridge, and pulls out another bowl of salad--one that he promptly dresses, salts and peppers, and tosses. One without green onions. One for her.

“Why do you do that?!” she explodes. Bill jumps in surprise.

“Do what?” he asks innocently, “This one has no green onions!”

“Exactly,” she continues, “Ugh, Bill. Just...why do you always...ugh, Bill!”

Bill is stunned, still holding his bowl of salad, trying to figure out what exactly is happening here.

“It’s too much,” tiger says, slamming her wine down, “All of it is too much.”

“What’s too much?”

“You! This. Why do you always just....think of everything?” she says, and she’s steadfastly working herself into a tizzy.

“Tiger...”

“How? How do you remember these things? How do you fucking remember that I had a meeting with my boss today, a meeting that I told you about two weeks ago? Why do you make a whole other bowl of salad for me, why do you remember that I hate green onions?”

“Because I care about you kid,” he shrugs.

Tiger is angry, but she’s also at a loss for words. Bill’s genuineness, his honesty, will do that. For as much as she struggles to be vulnerable. Bill shows that side of himself openly. She doesn’t even know why she’s so angry. Bill watches her for a minute, but she’s kind of just bug-eyed so he goes back to his cutting board and starts calmly chopping his little mushrooms again.

“I don’t like it,” she mutters after a long pause.

“Too bad,” he shrugs non-chalantly. Tiger glares at him.

“Too bad?” she seethes.

“Too bad,” he repeats.

“Stop it,” she says.

“No.”

“Bill, I mean it. Stop always trying to--”

“No.”

“I’m not finished,” she stamps her foot, “Stop being such--”

“No.” he says again, “Tiger, this is what I do.This is how I am. I care about the people that matter to me.”

“Well I don’t ma--”

“Yes you do. You matter to me. So I suggest you put on your big girl panties, and fucking deal with it,” he says. And that’s final. Tiger is taken aback at his tone, at the way his face suddenly got serious--but then in a heartbeat, it’s relaxed again.

“Now, do you want mustard on your burger, or ketchup?” he asks. Tiger is petulantly silent, glaring at him.

“Tiger.” he warns, holding up the hamburger bun.

“Shouldn’t you already know?” she huffs in annoyance, going to the fridge and grabbing the wine. She swigs it right from the bottle as she boosts herself up on the kitchen counter. Bill goes to the fridge and grabs the mayo--her favourite--putting a thick schmear on the bun.

“God, get fucked asshole,” she mutters. Bill just grabs her face, plants a noisy kiss on her cheek as she shrieks and swats him.

#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard drabble #BFF!Bill #bill skarsgard fanfic #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard fic

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rein-ette · 4 years ago

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Are you still working on your Commonwealth study? Do you have any thoughts on Arthur's relationships with his colonies apart from Canzuk + US?

Not properly, unfortunately with exams and then work I haven’t had mental/emotional capacity to do real research (and probably won’t for a while 😔). But I have continued to think about and develop certain relationships, and I think I also have old hcs I’ve never shared, so I’ll put those down!

Born into the Empire

Australia

@oumaheroes has already done such great hcs on him idk what I can add, but basically he was a little bit of a rowdy child, always breaking windows and shattering fancy pots, never able to sit still. I think rainbow once mentioned that Ken (short for Kenneth, my name for Aus) was a lot like England as a child in his curiosity and energy, and I wholeheartedly agree. But I think Arthur’s intensity was more inwardly directed, pushing him to pursue and master new talents and learn whatever he could, while Australia is a little more carefree in his love for the outdoors, exploring, jumping around and off things, little wild animals. Unfortunately for him, he was born in a period of the empire when Arthur was very serious about his kids education, and therefore often praised those who studied hard and learned fast, which really just wasn’t Australia’s cup of tea. Australia took this kinda hard and thought he was the “dumb” one in the family that Arthur was always scolding, but in reality Arthur knew and appreciated that Australias interests lay elsewhere — he was just a frustrated, tired, parent who really wanted to give his kids the best while also holding his empire together, two goals that were never going to fit well in the end and would completely exhaust him.

As Australia’s grown older he’s realized a bit of this (not entirely, though) and also that 1) he really did break a lot expensive things and cause general mayhem 2) scolding us Arthur’s way of showing he cares, if he didn’t he wouldn’t have payed attention to him at all 3) despite being a penal colony, he was still one of Arthur’s more “legitimate” children (being white and a boy) and was therefore still incredibly privileged — never having to question, for example, why it was that Arthur was his dad, if it should be this way, or if he had a seat at the family table at all (more on this later).

New Zealand

Zee, from birth, was a clear favourite. Obedient, calm, quietly intelligent, he would also later develop a blistering sense of humour which combined with his appearance made it overwhelmingly clear who’s child he was. If Ken questioned his place in the family because of his poor academic record and others did because of their appearance/race/other complications, Kaelan never had such problems; his siblings called him the “prince.” Zee, however, also had a charm that, like Matthew, endeared him to his siblings and mostly protected him from jealousy, though he certainly still had issues with being called a try hard, daddy’s boy, bossy, arrogant. Certainly as a child Zee was a little prideful and, under that unperturbed demeanour, willful, but he grew out of it by the 20th century and became one of those most trusted by Arthur, second only to Matthew. He’s also always been inseparable from his brother Australia despite their differences, and today they both have one of the healthiest and most amicable relationships with Arthur of any nation, let alone former colonies (family road trips, every summer).

Bermuda

I absolute fell in love with this girl after reading about here, once, in this fic by @shachaai, and after that my mind just ran away with me. For me, her human name given to her by Arthur just has to be Ariel — for the little mermaid reference, yes, symbolizing her connection to the sea and stunning good looks, but also because:

1. Ariel is a biblical name, meaning lion of God. This makes sense to me, because Bermuda began as a Portuguese trade post, so Arthur definitely consulted our resident bad catholic Port before naming her.

2. Ariel used to be boys name. This also makes sense, because I hc Bermuda was and still is a tomboy. Bitch is fierce, takes no prisoners, and has zero filter. Her letters to Arthur, which all the colonies sent so Arthur could keep an eye on things, were full of shit like “I swear to god if the Spanish don’t get out of my waters I might eat one of them,” and “father, I asked you for destroyers two months ago, and yet you sent them to Hong Kong — could you explain this most unusual occurrence, surely it’s not that you forgot”, and “thank you for the harpoon on my birthday, I caught a small shark a couple days ago and have sent you some of its teeth for your collection.” Arthur tolerates this attitude because he’s weak when it comes to girls; he absolutely spoils his daughters (and flushes like a 16 year old when a woman so much as bats her eyelashes at him). Yes, p*ssywhipped Arthur is a hill I will die on.

3. It also suits her because? Ariel? Shakespeare? The Tempest? Bermuda Triangle? Shipwrecks? Daughter-like figure of powerful and vengeful sorcerer? Yeah. And this girl is a fire spirit — she is so lively, snarky, clever. As she’s grown older she’s mellowed out a little, but still: a no shit taken, no fucks given type of gal.

4. Speaking of growing up, she’s also become quite the beauty. Shacha, if I’m remembering correctly, described her as dark skinned, wavy-haired, and green eyed and that image has been burned onto the back of my eyelids ever since. Those Iberian genetics really be pulling through for her, that’s for sure. Engport love child if I’ve ever seen one. Definitely one of the prettiest in her family.

Singapore

I’ve already mentioned this to needcake, but I’m not too big a fan of canon Singapore, so this is my oc version. Singapore is fascinating to me because it had only a very small local population before it became a colony (The original settlement had actually been destroyed by the Portuguese about two centuries before the British started building a port there.) So nation-tans like Singapore and Bermuda really are Arthur’s children in the most direct sense of the word. And yet, Singapore is mostly ethnically Chinese, with Malays being the second largest group. Growing up Asian in a white, Victorian era family surely cannot have been easy and more than once Singapore probably wondered if there hadn’t been some mistake. To make up for the constant fear that he wasn’t “really” British, Singapore studied ferociously and had a truly terrifying work ethic. I’m not sure if this is common knowledge outside Asian circles, so I’ll mention that this hc comes from the fact Singapore is well known for having truly exceptional students and some of the most prestigious schools. Singaporeans score highly in literally everything and they have an advantage with good English learning environments, a highly desirable trait in Asia, but these results come from brutally long hours — and its really saying something that they’re known for working hard, considering the studying ethic of students in Korea, Japan, and China aint nothing to sneeze at, either. To me this actually fits really well with Singapore’s upbringing in Arthur’s household, because Arthur himself prizes intelligence and hard work above all else, being a workaholic himself.

As for their relationship, it was probably the best when Singapore was young and peaked in the 1930s with the massive naval base the British built at Singapore, at the time the largest dry dock in the world. Singapore was a well-behaved child, not necessarily introverted but not rowdy either, and all the way into his teenage years he truly admired Arthur and was proud to be a part of the British Empire, despite his lingering unease and insecurities. The British defeat in World War II, however, was a massive turning point. He had worked his ass off to be a good son, a good brother, to contribute to the only family and system he had ever known, and he had thought by the 30s he was finally on his way to becoming a fine adult. And suddenly, the British surrender brings his entire world crashing down. He had followed the rules faithfully thinking it was his destiny, but suddenly it was clear that all rules were made up. Of course, his insecurities exploded. If the empire was a ruse, what the hell was he? A part of the illusion? He couldn’t have a truly Asian identity, because many of the old East Asian nations shunned him for his Western upbringing, and he could not entirely understand their values either. So he was a kid who kinda had to figure out late and very very suddenly who the fuck he was and wanted to be.

And, well, he’s done pretty well for himself, hasn’t he. After having a total crisis and questioning everything, I think Singapore slowly started to realize that just because the British Empire as a political entity didn’t last forever, that didn’t mean that his entire childhood and identity weren’t real. The love he gave to his siblings and the love he got back, the hard work he put in, his bond with Arthur and the safe, happy childhood he had — those memories and feelings didnt have to be diminished by what came after. Essentially, he learned the lesson all nations have to learn, which is that one needs to be able to discern between duties as a nation and feelings as a human being, and to some extent keep them separate to protect both.

Whoooooo ok I’ll stop there because this turned into a dissertation, sorry. Let me know if there are any specifics u want me to elaborate on or anything I missed, but I’ll leave this here for today :)

#hws england #hws Australia #hws new zealand #oc: hws Bermuda #not gonna tag anymore I’m lazy #fun times with the commonwealth #I probably won’t write so much for all of them I just put it there to remind myself #needcake #ask #my hcs

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watermelonlipstick · 4 years ago

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Nerves (Request)

This was my first request, and it was fun to write! Anon wanted a reader around Sam’s age whose nerves Dean mistakes for fear until he confronts her about them. Thanks for reading, and of course I would love any advice or critiques!! If you have a request, drop it in my inbox and I’ll definitely write it if I feel like I can do it justice. Just a little bit of weekend fluff.

Title: Nerves

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Word Count: 2715

Summary: When helping Sam’s college friend, the reader, Dean can’t figure out why she’s so scared of him.

gif from forgetthisbull

“Dude, Dean, I’m serious. Don’t be a fucking creep to her,” Sam said, shutting the door to the Impala and following his brother into a greasy spoon called Little Bavaria with white scalloped curtains.

“Dude, Dean, I’m serious,” Dean mimicked in a nasal sing-song. “And when am I ever a creep?”

Sam glared at Dean in exasperation. “Please? Just please? Can I have one friend you don’t hit on?”

“Fine! Drop it!” Dean snapped, yanking open the door and pulling his face immediately into a saccharine smile for the rosy-cheeked grandma-type standing behind a cash register that could not have been made after 1983.

“Thank you,” Sam said, obviously relieved. He scanned the room before seeing her sitting in a back booth.

You waved excitedly to Sam as he walked toward you, looking like a sun-kissed and confident man rather than the floppy haired boy you remembered.

As the brothers made their way over to you, a waitress dropped off plasticized menus and glasses of water. Sam waited for you to stand up before wrapping you in a bear hug. He smelled clean and familiar in a way that made you feel slightly lighter immediately.

“I like the new hair, it looks good on you,” he said, charming as ever.

You reflexively touched your head. “Oh! Right, I forgot that was after college. You look great!”

Sam’s smile was easy and wide as he turned to Dean. “This is my brother Dean.”

Dean raised a few fingers in a weak wave, decidedly not giving you anything Sam could construe as bedroom eyes or a flirtatious smirk. “Nice to meet you. Sorry it isn’t under better circumstances.”

“Yeah, well,” you trailed off.

“Should we sit?” Sam asked, graciously offering you an out.

After the requisite coffees and Dutch babies were ordered, Sam looked across the table angelically. “I’m really sorry this is happening,” he said, his voice smooth and soothing. It was all Dean could do not to roll his eyes, one arm slung across the booth behind Sam as he slouched back. He tried for the appearance of nonplussed neutrality. “If it’s okay with you, I think you should stick around us until we figure this out. I don’t want to leave you alone in that house,” Sam urged.

You kept the relief off your face better than you’d expected you would. You were trying to play it cool in front of Sam and his hopelessly cute older brother, but you were scared enough of going back your new house that you just repeated what they ordered, unable to focus even on the menu. As you had been doing for the last day and a half since you called, you thanked God for the small instinct to call Sam. Sam, who you hadn’t seen in a few years but was the least judgmental person you’d known in school. Somehow you knew even if he thought you were crazy he would come anyway. Now he was here, bigger and looser than you’d remembered, not making fun of or pitying the girl who thought her house was haunted, and you felt like you could take a deep breath for the first time in weeks. In a weaker moment you might’ve cried, and for that reason it was better that Sam had brought his brother. It might not have been so embarrassing to break down with an old friend, but you couldn’t ugly-cry in front of the Rebel Without A Cause at the table, all pillowy lips and long eyelashes. Distractedly you tried to remember if Dean looked this good in the two or three pictures Sam had scotch-taped to his dorm wall but couldn’t call them up. You channeled all the chill-girl energy you could muster and shrugged. “If you think that’s better, I can.”

“I do, yeah. It’s just that we don’t know what’s going on yet,” Sam offered. “If you need to get some stuff from your place, we can come with you. Right, Dean?”

“Sure,” Dean said, his tone clipped and his lips pressed tight. “Whatever Sammy wants.”

You heard a thump under the table and Dean smiled slightly more reassuringly.

Over breakfast Sam had about a hundred questions about everything you’d been up to lately. He seemed genuinely interested as you told him about the new job you’d moved here for, wanting to know more about the goofy drama between your coworkers and odd clients as though it was fascinating. You’d forgotten how much you desperately missed him until you saw the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and heard his laugh twinkle out over the coffee steam and powdered sugar. All the while, Dean seemed to be boring into you with those green eyes, sometimes adding a meaningless trite comment or chuckle but not genuinely engaging. You tried only partly successfully to ignore him, focusing on Sam and your food and how nice it was to feel safe.

3 cups of weak coffee after you’d finished eating, knowing you’d be jittery but not caring from the giddiness of the reunion, Dean took out his wallet and threw about double what you’d guessed the tab might be down in cash. “Should we go get your stuff?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” you answered, taking one last sip before getting up from the table. A look you couldn’t decipher passed between Sam and Dean so quickly that you would’ve missed it if you hadn’t been staring right at them. You followed the boys out of the restaurant, feeling a very odd and fleeting moment of jealousy when Dean thanked and winked at the older woman behind the cash register, giving her a slow languid smile like warm honey. He was so pretty. As quickly as the thought had come over you, it was replaced with disgust at yourself. At a time like this, when your whole world was in chaos, you were worried about some hot guy—who clearly wasn’t into you from the way he was acting—instead of your own safety. You were still cursing yourself mentally when you slid into the back of the gigantic black car they’d arrived in.

Sam’s friend was cute. Like, really cute. Beautiful, even, and Dean was beyond annoyed that this was the one time he promised Sam he wouldn’t hit on one of his friends. Not that it seemed to matter, because she only had eyes for Sam. It was like she melted when she saw him, staring only straight at his kid brother all through the time they stayed at the breakfast spot. If Dean was being honest with himself, he was more than a little hurt, not used to being looked at with anything less than adoration by the women he wanted. What added even more salt to the wound than the way she seemed so infatuated with Sam was the way that she looked when she saw Dean. Dean peddled in monsters and the looks of attractive women, and he knew fear when he saw it. He’d spent the rest of breakfast with Sam’s comment about him being a creep running through his mind on a loop, careful not to lean too close into her or say anything less than strictly G-rated. Unfortunately, that limited him more severely than he realized it would.

When she got into the back of the Impala, she sat straight up like she was in a cotillion class, not comfortable enough even to sit normally in his car. Was Sam right? Was he a creep? Dean suddenly felt weird and predatory, like maybe the blood and guts of hunting was changing him in some irreparable way that people could sense. He tried to smile agreeably the way Sam did up at her in the rearview mirror and saw a shark reflected back at him. Looking quickly away, Dean put both hands on the wheel the way he thought someone non-threatening would.

It didn’t help that Sam thought something was off, which meant Dean wasn’t pulling off his act and maybe couldn’t even pretend like he wasn’t the kind of person who makes a beautiful girl’s eyes go wide in fear. Each time Sam had side-eyed or kicked him under the table, the point was re-emphasized. Dean was desperate to relax but worried he’d freak this poor girl out somehow, so he kept himself tightly wound as he took directions to her house.

By the time they’d finally figured out the problem—not, as you thought, that your house was haunted but that a coworker was in fact a witch trying to torment you—the three of you had gotten into a semi-comfortable rhythm. You were crashing on the couch in their motel room, carrying your toiletries into and out of the bathroom every morning like you were at sleepaway camp and trying to keep your clothes as wrinkle-free as possible while living out of a suitcase. Some parts of it were so nice; you were still just as grateful for the protection you felt as you had been in that café, and you had forgotten how comforting it was just to know there was someone else around. Other parts, however, were not. You hadn’t slept on a couch, let alone a scratchy-creaky motel one, for so many days since college, and you were remembering why. On top of that, Dean was so compelling that it felt like you expended half of your energy each day just trying to keep yourself from staring at him.

And naturally, the more you got to know him the harder it got. He was not only the pretty boy that was obvious from the first time you met, but also so kind and respectful, seeming to be very aware of the potential discomfort of immediately sleeping in the same room as a strange man and giving you a wide berth for as much privacy as possible. He even picked up coffee in the mornings before you and Sam got up, that first day getting a black coffee, a nonfat latte, and ‘whatever the coffee guy said was most popular’ because he didn’t know what you’d like. If anything, it felt almost as though he was being a bit too gentle, and you wondered if Sam had told Dean you were some kind of fragile and delicate bird that startled easily. When you’d asked Sam about it after a couple days, he just shrugged and said he hadn’t really told Dean much other than some stories from college. You decided to drop it. Maybe Dean was just like this, which made it all the harder not to develop the kind of crippling, blushing, oh-my-god-is-he-going-to-sit-next-to-me crush you hadn’t felt since middle school.

When the coworker had been ‘taken care of’—a careful answer from Dean that you chose not to pursue—you were left feeling unmoored. It wasn’t like you could go back to the now-destroyed house, or even imagine how you’d explain away the chaos of the last couple weeks to the few people you knew here. Sam seemed to pick up on it intuitively, and offered for you to come along with him and his brother until you figured out what you were going to do next. Like it had when he had driven across the country and tossed you the last life raft over the formica table at Little Bavaria, it felt like Sam was saving you. He seemed excited when you said you would, and was out grabbing sandwiches for the road while you and Dean packed up the motel room when Dean asked if he could borrow you for a minute.

You were so embarrassed at the small, cartoonish voice that agreed, sitting on the side of the bed while Dean draped himself effortlessly—God, how could he look so cool even just sitting down—over the arm of the sofa.

“I, uh, if you’re going to come on the road with us I think we should talk,” he started. Your pulse started thumping in your chest and you hoped you weren’t blushing as you raised your eyebrows, signaling for him to continue. Dean cleared his throat and fiddled with his ring before continuing. “Listen, I don’t know how much Sam told you before we met, or whatever, but I swear I’m really not that bad.”

You’d been focusing so hard on not looking desperately infatuated that you weren’t able to keep the surprise off your face. “Bad? Of course not, you’ve been amazing. You and Sam saved my life. I’m so grateful,” you sputtered.

“Right,” Dean said, looking slightly confused. “Then I’m sorry if I did something maybe, because I don’t want you to think I’m some, like, animal—”

You cut him off. “Dean, you’ve been unbelievably sweet, way above and beyond what you needed to do. I’ve felt so safe the entire time I’ve been with you guys, and now you’re letting me stay with you for even longer; I don’t know how I can repay you, seriously.”

Dean looked up at you, his confusion tinged around the edges of his eyes with something wounded. “Then why are you so scared of me? You jump whenever I come in the room, you only look at Sam, you don’t even slouch when I’m around. I know I can’t do Sam’s puppy dog eyes act, but come on, I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. You act like you’re waiting for me to sock you.”

You opened your mouth and closed it again, realizing you didn’t know what to say. It was hard enough to think with Dean’s eyelashes sweeping over his cheekbones like the most delicious metronome you’d ever seen, let alone process what he was saying. “I—Dean, I’m not scared of you,” you finally squeaked. His face didn’t change with the spark of recognition that would’ve allowed you to stop there with a soggy handful of dignity left, and you took a deep breath to steel yourself to continue. “God, this is so embarrassing,” you murmured under your breath. “Okay,” you started, hoping your voice sounded resolute and firm. “I mean, it’s just that you’re so cute, and cool, and self-assured, and I was worried I was going to do something weird or whatever, and now I guess I have anyway. I’m truly sorry if I made you uncomfortable, or especially feel like I wasn’t anything other than thankful for you and everything you’ve done. I’ll try to act like less of a total freak, I promise.”

You winced, waiting for the inevitable pity from this gorgeous man who must hear these proclamations from every woman he meets. Instead, Dean chuckled, which was maybe even worse. Pity you were ready for, could swallow and heal your ego from in private, but open ridicule was too much.

“Okay, well, that was fun. Sorry,” you said, smacking the tops of your legs and getting up from the bed. Dean grabbed one of your wrists as he pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing his eyes.

“No, wait, sit down,” he said, smiling.

You obeyed, feeling a little lump of embarrassed tears forming in your throat but not seeing a way to extricate yourself from the room gracefully. Dean’s callused thumb swiped affectionately across the back of your hand.

“That is way better than what I thought,” he insisted. “Sam made a big deal about how I shouldn’t act like a creep to you, and it got in my head. I thought I was coming off as a total perv or something.”

His eyes locked you in like quicksand before you could answer, not pitying or withering at all as you’d thought, just soft and tender and the impossible green of a perfect matcha. “No, I’m the perv here,” you offered, attempting to make light of your shyness.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, sweetheart,” Dean purred. Heat swelled up into your cheeks, and Dean brought your hand to his lips, pressing a warm kiss to the back of your hand as he gazed up at you.

As you were desperately scrolling through the Rolodex in your mind for something witty to say, Sam opened the door to the motel room. You were equally and fiercely relieved and stymied as his hulking frame filled the doorway, grabbing the duffel he’d left on the tile. “You guys ready?” he asked, his smile bright and carefree.

Dean dropped your wrist and winked at you as he got up from the couch unhurriedly. “More than ready, Sammy. Let’s hit the road.”

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

Tags: @sams-sass, @akshi8278, @dream-believe-and-love

#dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean fanfiction #dean winchester #dean one shot #spn fic #spn oneshot #spn fanfiction #dean fluff #supernatural fluff #supernatural fanfiction #reader insert #dean x you #dean winchester x you #request #dean winchester oneshot #dean oneshot #supernatural

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ditttiii · 4 years ago

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Brothers Conflict || 03.

Thrust into an already established family, you struggle to find your footing while dodging the advances of seven, incredibly good looking stepbrothers.

Your father marrying, and you suddenly having to live under the same roof with seven step brothers was a royal mess or so you had thought, Because them falling in love with you was so much worse. Or was it?

◈ Genre: Romance, Fluff, Humour, Smut and maybe a little angst. (PG-18) (step brother AU) (I do NOT support incest, this work is inspired by the popular anime/manga Brothers Conflict)

◈ Pairings: OT7 x Reader (reverse harem)

◈ CHAPTER THREE

WC: 2.7k

Warnings: Language (sfw)

Masterlist

"How about this?"

"Nah, it's too sideways," you reply from where you are standing near the doorway of your bedroom.

"Right or left?" Sunmi asks, as she grips the frame and distances her torso from the wall, trying to see for herself where she should shift the frame. From the looks of it, she's failing spectacularly at it.

Suppressing a snort, you answer ‘left’ and hum when she tilts the frame and you are finally satisfied with its position on the wall. Walking back in, you marvel at the sheer grandness of your room for the umpteenth time as you take in all the space around you. Roughly four times the size of your old bedroom, it was huge.

Floor to ceiling windows on the side opposite the bedroom door, before which was your queen-sized bed. A decent size, intricately designed bedside table beside it, with the floor underneath covered with a soft, plush rosy white carpet. A walk-in closet the size of your old bedroom, a bathroom with a jacuzzi, curtains heavy enough to suffocate and kill you if they were to ever fall upon your body; your new bedroom screams rich.

It would be a lie to say that you don't feel intimidated. Raised in a middle-class, humble neighbourhood, you hadn't in your wildest dreams ever imagined living in a room like this. But here you are, soaking in the reality of the moment; and realising that it feels like something between a dream and a nightmare.

Nearly four hours since you first started unpacking, and five since you had first met your new family, most of your room was organised. All boxes untaped and emptied as you and Sunmi worked hard to make the unnecessarily large, empty room less of a hotel room and more like the bedroom of a 19-year-old girl.

Sighing, you push the last book of your novel collection into the bookshelf. Made from some sort of whitewood, much like everything else, it was designed intricately and looming large over your small shadow.

"This is it."

Slouching, you fall onto your back, eyes straying to the ceiling above and the textures carved onto it, refusing to reply to Sunmi’s statement. Agreeing would mean that you'd have to let her go and you don't think you can, the isolation and abnormality of the situation already sinking in and scaring you.

"Mmn," you reply noncommittally instead.

A long sigh, and then your best friend is curling on the floor beside you, her hand snaking around yours, fingers intertwining, as she silently lets you know that she is here for you. Repressing the tears you can already feel trying to escape your eyes, you squeeze her hand back.

The clammy, ice-cold touch of your skin against hers goes unmentioned as you both lay there in silence.

"I'll call you every day," you whisper, your voice choked as your death grip around Sunmi's waist tightens, and she lets out a strangled moan before pushing you away.

"Woman, stop being so dramatic! You'll see me back in college every freaking day once summer ends and you know I'll come to see you whenever you want me to, the hour-long ride be damned," Sunmi chides. There’s no bite in her words, and her voice wobbles despite her trying to act tough, but you don't call her out on it and only nod.

"You better, you airhead, lord knows you'll probably sob your body dry without seeing me every day."

A giggle comes out of your best friend's tall, lean body, one you are entirely too envious of, and her eyes soften, your smile softening with it.

"Take care, will ya?"

"Always," you whisper back, and with one last kiss thrown over her shoulder, she leaves. Her figure grows smaller and farther with every step she takes, and you bite your lip to prevent a call from tumbling out. Not moving an inch until you hear the distant roar of her car driving away, you finally shut the door when you no longer hear or see her car.

Suddenly you feel scarily small. Like a tiny, irrelevant existence born in a world too large and glamorous; a world where you evidently do not belong.

Meandering through the floor, you gaze at the picture frames on the wall as though you are the actress of some old seventies cinema, bemoaning the absence of a long lost lover.

Dramatic, yes, but you have always been more on the theatrical spectrum of humankind, and it isn't like there is much you can do right now anyway. Not unless you want to hole up in your room and stew in your sadness alone. And even though that might sound appealing to most (considering what your room now looks like), it wasn't something you felt like doing at the moment.

So you mindlessly gaze at the pictures, the setting sun casting a warm orange glow in the darkening hallway as you try to find some semblance of familiarity, a speck of comfort or intimacy.

"Y/n?" a soft voice calls out to you, and you twist on your heels, your eyes meeting with those of Yoongi.

"Yoongi-oppa." Voice coming out soft, your words fade at the end as your eyes track the way Yoongi's face glows when the rays of the setting sun hit his skin. Long messy dark blonde hair makes space for his glittering curvy eyes to shine through, and your breath gets caught somewhere in your chest when you look at the vision that was Min Yoongi.

"Exploring?" he asks casually, but even without knowing him for all that long, you can detect the underlying layer of concern in his voice. You don't know if he is being open with you right now, or if you can just read him well, but the concern makes your heart feel a little warmer.

"Something like that." Your answer is ambiguous, but Yoongi doesn't ask you to elaborate, so you don't add anything more, turning back and looking at the pictures again instead.

"This something you enjoy?" Yoongi asks as he moves beside you, hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his pants, and leans; making himself comfortable against the wall.

Your eyes stray to him. "Sounds like you don't."

"Not really my forte, I can appreciate it from a distance, sure, but not an enthusiast," he replies, the back of his head hitting the wall behind as he looks up at you.

Humming, you shrug. "Same, I guess, it's just fascinating to me. I wish I was smart enough to understand what half of these actually mean, but I am not, so I just appreciate the beauty and move on."

"Fair enough."

You nod and let the silence reign again, but it's a comfortable silence, the kind of quiet where you are both lost in your own thoughts but at the same time appreciate the company of the other.

Slowly the sun sets behind you, and the glassed walls shimmer one last time before the ceiling lights are switched on, bathing the entire floor in warm but bright light.

Yoongi had been silent the entire time as you explored the floor like a child in a zoo, poking and prodding the potted plants, oo-ing and aah-ing over the art around you, fascinated and occupied with the attractions around.

But when the lights switch on, he clears his throat and gets up from the couch he had taken a seat on some time ago, head tilting as he wordlessly asks you a question. You nod back and smile, making your way to him as you finally get ready to spend some time with the rest of your newly acquired family.

As you both make your way to the main hall, you don't miss how your heart is feeling much lighter now. The silent company that Yoongi had provided you with seems to have put you at ease and calmed your racing thoughts.

Walking into the kitchen alone, you try your best to make as little noise as possible. Yoongi, much to your displeasure, had promised that he'd meet you out in a few minutes only to disappear inside of his bedroom and leave you to your own devices.

The sudden bout of bravado from earlier had left your body too, in its place leaving raring, gut-twisting anxiety.

Tiptoeing to the refrigerator, you take out a bottle and pour yourself a glass. The chilled water slides down your throat, quenching your thirst, and you let out a satisfied sigh, smacking your lips in contentment after.

"That thirsty, huh?"

You jump, startled, heart racing and in your throat, as your gaze snaps to the doorway and finds Seokjin standing there. Suit coat hung over his left arm, and a button-down shirt rolled up to his elbows, he was clearly returning back home after a workday.

"Holy fuck, you scared the shit outta me!"

Your brain to mouth filter is seemingly not working after being startled. Feeling anxious was a problem enough, but being scared after was evidently enough to send your last two brain cells out the window. Your common sense and the knowledge that Kim Seokjin was now your stepbrother, eldest stepbrother, flying out the window along with them.

You hear crickets chirping in the distance as an awkward silence blankets the room, and in that moment you want to die. Spontaneously combust and float away into thin air, disappear, dissolve, vanish—die.

"I am so sorry, can we pretend I didn't say that, “you voice out meekly, your eyes avoiding Seokjin’s and instead finding purchase on the wall behind him, seemingly fascinated by the utter whiteness of it.

Hearing a chuckle ring and break the awkwardness in the air, you shift your gaze to the source of said chuckle and catch your eldest brother's gaze. "It's alright Y/n, I get that this is a big adjustment. Please don't feel like you need to rush on anybody's accord, take your time."

And then Kim Seokjin smiles—his pouty, full lips stretched into a small but ridiculously warm smile, and something in your chest clenches at the sight of it. Warning bells ring in the back of your mind, and you squash the thoughts threatening to come forward, their not-so-appropriate nature resulting in an immediate rejection from your end.

Mumbling a thank you, you let him know you'll be down soon and then dash to your bedroom, slamming the door closed once you're inside and sinking down onto the floor.

What the hell was that!?

Raking a hand through your hair, you groan in annoyance, wincing when said hand gets stuck in a tangle and pulls a few strands loose.

Looking back at your impression so far in front of Seokjin, one of your seven step brothers, it had been nothing but absolutely marvellous. So you can't imagine what could possibly go wrong when you sit down at the dinner table and are surrounded by all seven of them.

Nothing, nothing at all, nope-nada-zilch!

Frustrated, you slide a hand down your face, hoping to calm down, but the move only ends up irritating your skin under. The day has been long, and all that you pray for now is that it ends soon. Your bed, which from the looks of it was fit for royalty, was beckoning you over too.

With one last huff, you are pushing yourself up onto your feet and to the bathroom to splash some water, before you go and join the rest of your new family.

Pulling the chair in, you wring your hands nervously under the table, away from any prying eyes. One by one, the rest of your family filters in and takes a seat; Seokjin and Yoongi both pick their seats at the two heads of the table. Hoseok and Namjoon sit on either side of you, with Jimin plopping himself down opposite you, and getting flanked by Jungkook and Taehyugn on either side.

Not much conversation had taken place as they picked their seats, everyone sufficiently tired enough after a long day, but they had smiled or nodded at you when they first entered the dining room.

'Well most of them at least,' you think, eyeing the two youngest, who had both refused to give you even a cursory glance, resulting in your smile going unseen and unreciprocated. Their attitude, however, doesn't bother you too much at this point; as it was, they were virtually nothing more than strangers to you.

Conversations pick up around you, and you feel slightly out of place, as though you are a guest over for dinner rather than their new stepsister, but the feeling doesn't last long, because both Namjoon and Hoseok soon pull you into a conversation. Inquiries come forth about your day, and how your unpacking had gone.

The conversation is mostly superficial, nothing too emotionally challenging; neither of them ask how it feels being a part of their family or something like that, and you are relieved. Grateful, because you don't know if you'd be able to answer those questions anyway. The whole situation is still very odd no matter how many minutes of the day pass.

Someone clears their throat, and your eyes snap to Seokjin, who was pushing his chair back and picking up his glass, the red wine inside sloshing with the movement.

"I've done this before, and yet it never gets any less nerve-wracking," Seokjin starts, and your eyes furrow in confusion, but he continues before you can think about it any more. "Y/n," he says and tips his head in your direction, "I know this must feel a little scary—actually, scratch that, you're probably terrified right now, and that's okay.” he pauses, and takes a breath before continuing, “I'm sure it feels crazy suddenly being thrust into an already established family and being told that now you're one of them, and I just want you to know that I get it. We get it, and we are here for you. If you don’t want to accept us as family, that’s okay too; all of us would understand and support whatever decision you make. I just...” Sighing, he locks eyes with you.

“...I just hope you can let us in eventually, family or not."

Seokjin's eyes bore into yours as he says this, stressing the 'us', and you gulp, feeling the back of your throat tighten at his words. Sensing the fine thread of control that you had over your emotions loosening, you swivel your gaze to the table instead, nodding, your vision growing blurry as you try to blink back the burn in your eyes.

The room goes quiet, as the boys give you time to collect yourself—or sob, you don't know, but you appreciate the consideration nonetheless.

It was going good, it really was. You were holding on, no matter how precarious the hold was, you were holding on. Grasping onto that last string of control and restraint you had with all of your might.

But then Hoseok is wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his side, letting you nestle your face in the crook of his neck, and the string snaps, his neck growing wet as tears streamed down your face and slid down his skin.

For a few minutes, you forget that you were now surrounded by strangers who you had to accept and call your family. For a few false, delusional minutes you forget that they don't know you, that the care they were showing was genuine and not something they were obligated to. That the one whose hands were drawing circles across your back, the one whose voice was whispering reassurances in your ear—stupid sweet-nothings that you would tell a small child to make them feel better, actually gave a shit about you.

You forget the reality and slip into a safe headspace, letting the warmth of another human encircle you, hold you, wrap you in its cocoon as you weep.

A/N: dedicating this chapter to @mel-gonzalez07, one of my oldest, most loyal readers, and more than anything else an amazing friend. ily angel 💖

Y/n is going through some shitt here. Imagine being thrust into a dynamic that has been established for years, and then having to act like you are meant to be a part of it.

The taglist for the story can be found:- here. A kind reminder that tumblr sometimes doesn’t give an alert for a tag notification, but you’ll find the notification in your notification dash. So, check it once a week as I usually update weekly.

Feedback means the world to me, so tell me what you thought. What would you do if you were in oc’s shoes?

Until next time! Take care you sweet soul and Oo! Go stream folklore 💖

Tag-list: @mel-gonzalez07 @favsssxx @imluckybitches @nomimits7 @alex4243 @calling-dips-on-j-hope @joonsinnerchild @iconicgguk @untamedfaith @kaheryn @nottodayjjk @moments-of-melancholy @gee-nee @confusemonkey @beautyyounggirl @blossoming-cherrytrees @seoul9711 �� @btsismybiass @toochie-too @sugakookie0698 @maboiisuga @kurohas-world @namseokiesmoonv @kerikaaria @chiidbits @girlyyzzyz @loveyoongles @btsfeelzies @knjkitten @honeyspillings @thestrugglesofateenagedirtbag @starrykook97 @xanny91 @leilalago @jiminie-08 @voguejoonie @lovelikeyouwant

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ladyeliot · 4 years ago

Photo

I promise.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes 40s x Female Reader

Summary: During the war, meetings with Bucky had been limited, and this would be the last time you would see each other.

Warnings: Fluff/Angst

Word count: 1640

A/N: Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

England, 1945

The waves were getting bigger and bigger as they took up more and more space on the shore. The sun was low, leaving a beautiful sunset to watch from the rocks, and the temperature was dropping slightly to the coolness of the evening on the British coast. The tranquillity of the bay meant that a peaceful stroll could be enjoyed without the need to be troubled by worries, but worries were brooding over both of them. The horizon professed a serenity over you, as you stood facing the expanse of the North Sea, and that fact fostered memories of a peaceful time to come to your mind.

Arms encircled your waist and a figure took up position just behind you. You closed your eyes, taking in the warmth of the body that was so pleasant when the cold east wind blew against your face. Lips placed a kiss on the back of your neck, causing your every muscle to relax and you let some of the weight of his body fall on him.

"What are you thinking?" whispered Bucky in your ear, wafting that scent of ash that so fascinated your senses.

"I was just reminiscing about the past," you honest to yourself as you clasped your hands with his that rested on your waist. "When the biggest worry we had was which dress to choose to go out dancing."

You felt Bucky's smile widen against the back of your neck, placing a soft kiss on it again.

"Remember when we went to Minton's Playhouse?" he asked bringing those memories to your mind. "I remember the time I went to pick you up at home, your mother had made chocolate chip biscuits and wouldn't let us leave."

"I warned you that would probably happen," you said with a chuckle. "At least Dad wasn't home."

"It wouldn't have been that big of a deal," Bucky shrugged. "He got to like me in the end."

"I wouldn't say liked, liked," you said, trying to prod him. "He just accepted you." "Well, I suppose being accepted by one of Wall Street's bigwigs is a credit," he said, offering himself importance.

You smiled and shook your head. Those memories that took you back to your past life, completely different from the one you were living at that very moment, made you homesick. At that moment you would give anything to snap your fingers and go back there.

"Do you remember the day we met?" Bucky asked again in a whisper against your ear. "God, you were the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen in my life. Your hair was tied back, except for a lock that fell across your forehead. You were wearing your dark blue dress and you were giggling with your friends. Surely I knew I had to talk to you before the night was over, or I could never forgive myself."

"But you didn't," you reminded him with a smile on your lips of pride. "It was me who came over to talk to you."

"You just beat me to it!" he complained pulling you closer to him. "But you know that made me even more attached to you."

"I miss it," you took a breath and let it out with a sigh. "We used to live life so fast, we hardly enjoyed things because we were thinking about the future. But now we must live in the present, because we don't know if there will be a tomorrow for us."

"There will be," Bucky said firmly, turning you in his arms, bringing your faces to face each other. "I will see to that."

"That's what worries me," you said, holding his gaze and resting your hands on his chest to caress his dog tag.

It had been two years since Bucky had ventured into one of the most terrible and feared wars of all time, World War II. Every day he gave his life to fight against enemy troops, facing the battlefield, not knowing what he was really up against. When he signed up to be a soldier, you made your own decision to help your country with the intention of being close to him. Every soldier who appeared before your eyes, badly wounded, exhausted and shivering with fear, reminded you of him.

You only met him a couple of times in those two years, the first time when he was sent to England after being captured by HYDRA forces, and now just before he left on his mission to board the Schnellzug EB912 with the Howling Commandos.

"It's going to be all right," his sweet breath crashed against your face. Bucky smiled expecting a smile from you. "Hey, do you have that little confidence in me?"

"It's not that," you finally smiled still contemplating his badge. "It's just... I don't want to lose you."

"That's never going to happen," he said again confident in his words. "I have a hunch. Listen, a new year has just begun, it's 1945, this year the war will be over, trust me." It was impossible for you not to get lost in his eyes, in his words. "We'll be able to go home, go dancing at the Café Society, or go for a walk along the banks of the Hudson. Those will be all our worries again."

"Promise me?" you asked, stepping into the imaginary universe your love was creating for you.

"I promise." Bucky brought his lips close to yours. "And I also promise that when we get back I will propose to you properly," his words brought a wide smile to your face, reddening it with embarrassment. "Hey, look at me. I'll buy you the shiniest ring that no one will be able to look away from, I'll take you to dinner at the Ritz, we'll go up to the roof and you'll have all of New York at your feet, then we'll dance all night and when we get tired of dancing I'll take you back to the bedroom and make love to you until we fall asleep."

Those were the most desirable words you had heard for the last few months, everything you wanted was in them. Although you would eliminate all the luxury they contained, you just wanted to be with him in any quiet place and live in peace for life. You didn't need a glittering ring, or a dinner at the Ritz to accept his hand in commitment, you'd do it right now if he asked you.

"So will you make love to me all night until we fall asleep?" you asked mischievously, averting your gaze from his face.

"All night," Bucky's tone became rougher, but he suddenly arched an amused eyebrow. "Well, only if you agree to be my wife."

"Makes sense," you said with a chuckle, wrapping your hands around his neck. "I'll accept. I will always accept."

An aura formed between you, welcoming one of the most intense, hopeful and loving kisses you had ever given each other. When you parted, you could contemplate more assuredly that those were the most beautiful eyes you had ever discovered in your life, and that you could stare into them for hour after hour without looking away. Bucky welcomed the answer you offered with a sweet smile on his face, but it would never happen, for tomorrow he was leaving for the mission that would change his whole life. Perhaps it would have been a mistake for both of you to have embarked on that war, which offered nothing but hardship, but what else would you have done?

"What time do you leave tomorrow?" you asked as Bucky gently kissed your forehead.

"At five o'clock, we want to leave before the sun goes down," he replied, gently stroking the strands of your hair.

You just looked away, not knowing what to say, for these were the last hours you were going to spend together, and no one would put their hand in the fire about the next time you would see each other again.

Finally you decided to break your closeness, beginning a walk along the shore of the beach while holding your shoes in your hands. Bucky closed his eyes with a sigh and followed you, closing the distance by positioning himself next to you and grabbing your arm to stop you.

"I love you," he took your face in his hands. "I love you more than anything in this world, please don't walk away from me."

You wanted to say so many things, so many feelings to express and you didn't know how without bursting into tears. You had been through goodbyes too many times, you had told people you loved goodbye forever, it was unbearable, and the simple fact of having to face it again was killing you.

You shook your head, looking down at the sand your feet were sinking into, cold and white. Bucky stood in front of you, waiting for you to say something, cradling your face in his hands.

"I can't..." you said in a single whisper without looking at him. "I can't do it..."

"I promise- look at me," he demanded softly, and you obeyed. "I promise it's going to be the last time you'll have to do it. The next time we meet I'm not going to let anything or anyone separate us again. I promise."

His words seemed so true as they left his lips, and you wanted so badly to believe them that you certainly did. You let yourself go, assuming they were true, letting yourself be enveloped by the warm feeling of his embrace.

"I promise."

Taglist Open (DM)

MAIN MASTERLIST

#bucky barnes x reader #james barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #fanfiction #imagines #fandom #marvel #winter soldier #40s #alternative universe #au #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes imagine #drabbles #oneshot #one-shot

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littlefreya · 5 years ago

Text

Under the Milky Way

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it or parts of the source material and claiming it as your own*

Summary: Henry has been in love with his friend for years. Just hearing her name makes his heart race but he doesn’t know if she feels the same and doesn’t know how to act when he really likes a girl.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

Word count: 1K

Warnings: None. Fluffy and romantic.

A/N: I’m a good Dom and after (and before) giving you all that rough stuff I’m now treating you with some fluff, because boy you’re gonna need it with all that’s coming... Thanks @agniavateira for doing the beta! Masterlist is here. This is roughly inspired by “Under the Milky Way” by The Church.

Title: Under the Milky Way

He waited so long to finally see her again. Hoping this time he will receive a sign, some gesture, or a hint that will finally shake the earth and give him the assurance that maybe, just maybe she feels the same.

When he saw her tonight his throat went dry, suddenly the simplest words felt complicated and could not seem to form on his tongue. That navy blue maid of honour dress hugs her small form so adoringly as if the fabric itself worships her body. Her hair is half held back by a french braid which circles the back of her head like a small Elvish tiara. Thick, dark waves fall from it, curled at the edge of her lower back.

He tries to avoid staring at her as she takes her place beside the bride. Not wanting to embarrass himself any more than he already did, but his sight is drawn as if by some magnetic force. In his mind, he wants to kneel before her and bow his head like some knight out of a fairytale, to plead to be in the service of this queen.

She is looking at her best friend as they stand in the centre of the stage. She clutches a bouquet of white and pink roses against her chest while her eyes shine. She senses someone looking at her. When she glances at the crowd, her eyes fall on him right away. They share a mutual smile and she forces herself to look away.

They have always liked each other, he has always been kind to her.

Sometimes he would touch her as they sat with friends, a feverish stroke, innocent or by mistake, but that would be enough to make her heart flutter like a huge butterfly in the cage of her chest.

To see him physically hurts sometimes. Especially on a night like this when she is supposed to be happy, yet her heart feels sorrowful.

The ceremony soon ends. The bride and the groom share a loving kiss and she claps her hands with a blissful smile. Their eyes meet again and she can’t help but feel that same chant in her lungs.

Several drinks later they are on the dance floor, dancing with a group of their friends in a large circle. Henry is outrageous in his dance moves. He self-claims to be the worst dancer to ever walked this earth, which is why his moves consist of dramatic hand gestures meant to be parodic. He thinks it’s funny; he is mainly here to make people laugh.

But these are her type of dance moves and she follows him, doing the same. They perform the overly-dramatic gestures while singing along to the sounds of cheesy rock ballads from the 90s.

Friends begin to move away, looking at them as they’re doing their own little thing while shaking their heads and sighing. It’s been clear for the last 4 years, as obvious as a hit on the head. Yet the only people who seem to be clueless are Henry and her.

Another cheesy song ends and Henry laces his fingers in hers as she laughs drunkenly, throwing her head back as she can’t contain herself. The rhythm suddenly slows down and the soft guitar begins to play Under the Milky Way by The Church.

She calls out how much she loves the song. While still holding her hand, he boldly pulls her against him. She puts her head on his shoulder, her heartbeat accelerate, so much that she is certain he can feel the throb against his taut torso.

Sometimes when this place gets kind of empty Sound of their breath fades with the light I think about the loveless fascination Under the Milky Way tonight

All eyes are on them as the beat picks up. The dramatic gestures have been reduced to a slow, rhythmic dance that doesn’t necessarily fit the beat of the music. Unaware of how they are supposed to dance or act, they allow themselves to flow naturally. They’re too drunk anyway, their bodies exhausted and running on steam.

She is crushed against his warm chest, while the classical guitar of the chorus plays. It feels so cosy to be wrapped in the big man’s arms and listen to the music as it plays through his body. The music forces them to depart, or at least she tries, twirling away only to be caught by his hand around her wrist. His eyes are too foggy, his smirk whimsical as he pulls her against him once more.

“Under the milky way tonight…”

He hears her beautiful voice singing along with the words of the song which now just became his favourite song in the whole wide world. He presses his chin against her head, holding her in a moment he wants to have frozen in time. Just him and her, lost in a purple-pink haze of the illusion that he finally told her how he feels and she said she feels the same.

But as soon as the song ends their bodies part. Embarrassing drunken smiles are exchanged, suddenly their eyes are unable to meet. It’s time to go home, each to drift away to their designated drivers. She kisses him goodbye on the cheek and walks away, holding herself from turning back and running to crush her lips against his.

~*~

Come morning he finds a message on his phone. A friend sends him a video. It’s from the night before, him and her dancing in each other’s arms all alone on the dance floor.

“You two are absolute idiots, everybody knows, just ask her out!”

Swallowing deeply, he looks at his large American Akita that peers at him with a bewildered face.

“What do you say, buddy? Take the chance?”

Kal tilts his head in a question and then barks.

She lies on the bed with the cat on her chest, holding back tears that've been threatening to run down her cheeks for hours.

When her phone vibrates on the pillow next to her head she sniffles and picks it up to see who messaged her.

“Can I take you on a date tonight, little one?”

#Henry Cavill #Henry cavill fanfic #Henry Cavill Fic #Henry Cavill Fluff #Henry Cavill fanfiction #Fanfic #Fluff #henrycavill #henrycavillfanfiction #henrycavillfluff #henrycavillfic #love stories #Romance

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autumn-ginkgo-leaves · 4 years ago

Text

Just Like Lovers

Taewook x Reader | dubcon | kidnapping | dark | nsfw

I can’t resist a villain who’ll do whatever it takes to get what he wants. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it.

You open your eyes, and the world spins. You screw them up tight again and press your face against the cool fabric, groaning softly.

What the hell happened? The last thing you remember is walking home in the twilight. Your body feels like it’s on something soft. Did you get sick and one of the boys put you to bed?

A vaguely familiar voice speaks from across the room, slow and deep. “You’re awake.”

You open your eyes again. You’re less dizzy, but the world is fuzzy like you’re wearing someone else’s glasses. The room is in half-light, and something seems strange about it, but you can’t put your finger on what.

“Who’s there?” you manage to say. Your body feels floppy, and too heavy for you to move.

Someone’s sitting in a chair at the end of the bed, one long leg crossed over the other.

You screw up your eyes and peer at them. “Taehee? Is that you? This doesn’t feel like my bed.”

The figure gets up and saunters toward you, not the way you’d expect Taehee to hurry over to you if you’re ill. You feel the mattress sink as he sits on the bed beside you. Your body rolls toward him and your arms are too heavy to stop yourself.

“Where are we?” you ask, blinking to try and clear your vision. “I feel…strange.”

Taehee looms closer in your vision. It must be Taehee because you can see his dark bangs, white shirt and the familiar black choker around his neck.

His breath fans your faces, as if he’s just inches away. “Poor baby,” he murmurs, and then you feel something soft drag over your mouth. Lips. Taehee kissed you?

“What--?” you pant, because something electric has passed through you at the touch of his lips.

His hand slides beneath your blouse and caresses your ribs. Unable to stop yourself, your back arches up to meet his touch, hot sensations bursting through you.

A voice whispers in your mind to accept this, to give into it, but this is so unlike Taehee. His other hand reaches between your legs and strokes your bare inner thighs. Your head rolls back and you moan as tingling explodes in your clit.

“Ah…Taehee…What are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer, but your heart is pounding now. Even though you’re more turned on than you’ve ever been in your life, you know something’s wrong and you fight through the fog. Slowly, your vision clears, and you gaze up into a familiar face.

That’s not Taehee.

It’s a man who appears older, more calculating. Taewook Seo, his hair rumpled like Taehee’s and a choker around his neck. Like he’s impersonating the goblin.

“Hey, there,” he murmurs, smiling his lazy half-smile at you.

A smile you’ve thought about a hundred times late at night. Conceited. Secretive. And, not that you would admit it to anyone, sexy.

Taewook is dressed in a white button-down shirt and black pants, as if he’s come straight from the office and shrugged out of his jacket. His sleeves are rolled back revealing muscled forearms. The shirt is open at the throat, revealing a hint of his chest.

He reaches beneath your skirt and hooks a finger into the waistband of your underwear. You gasp as you feel them being drawn down and off your legs.

Taewook pushes your skirt back, and though you fight to keep your legs together, he hooks one of your thighs around his hip and slides between them.

“Let go of me! What are you doing?” You try to push against the mattress so you can sit up, but your limbs are jelly. There’s nothing you can do to stop him looking everywhere he wants to.

“So pretty. Just like I imagined.” He trails his index finger down the seam of your pussy, his touch light but sending shooting stars through you.

Your head arches back again and your hips lift against your will, revealing yourself to him even more. He’s making you respond to his touch when you don’t want to.

Not that you haven’t thought about it late at night.

But it never happened like this in your head.

“Where am I? Why can’t I move? What have you done to me?”

Taewook brushes tangles of hair back from your flushed face and smirks down at you. “I guess you can’t move because you don’t really want to. We’re at my place. Don’t you remember asking to come home with me?”

“I would never.” You were walking along in the twilight and then…a dark car pulled up beside you. One of the doors opened and you saw Taewook sitting in the back seat in his dark suit, holding out his hand.

Telling you to get in.

And then you see him touching your hand and doing what he asks.

“But I said I didn’t want a ride,” you whisper, staring at the ceiling. Trying to remember. “Didn’t I?”

Taewook braces a hand by your head and leans over you. “You’re just as beautiful as your pictures,” he murmurs, brushing his mouth over yours again. His hips press against your sex in slow, pulsing motions.

Desire for him bursts through you, and you can’t tell how much is his magic and how much is you.

You rip your mouth from his and turn your face away. “Let me up and off this bed. You’re disgusting.”

He smiles and gestures toward the door. “Go if you want.”

As you try to move, your limbs flop around like you’re a puppet and he’s cut your strings.

“Screw you,” you whimper, tears forming in your eyes. “I hate you.”

“Don’t say that,” he tuts, gently pressing his lips to the tear tracks at the corners of your eyes. “I only want to make you feel good. Don’t you already feel better than you ever have?”

Taewook’s sultry voice in your ear is short-circuiting your senses. You go limp as he kisses down your throat. He pushes your shirt up to expose your bra, and his hungry gaze falls on your nipples, which are tight beneath the lace fabric.

“Can I take this off you? Thank you.” Without waiting for your reply, he tugs your shirt down your arms and throws it on the floor. Then he reaches beneath you to unclasp your bra. All his movements are slow. He undresses you like a lover, his intention written all over his flushed face.

You can’t even cover yourself up. He’s doing whatever he likes.

Finally, he undoes the zipper on your skirt and pulls it down and off your legs.

He breathes hard as he sees you naked before him, his hands holding your hips, and then sliding up to cup your breasts and massage your nipples with his thumbs. “So beautiful, baby.”

You stare in fascination at his hands squeezing your breasts. He reaches for the buttons on his shirt, and you whimper as you watch him undo them and shrug out of it, revealing broad, muscular shoulders and a strong chest.

“Taewook, please, don’t. Why are you doing this?”

Maybe he doesn’t even need to do it like this. You might have let him kiss you if he’d just asked. Asking doesn’t seem to have occurred to him.

He pretends that he hasn’t heard you as he unzips his pants, pulls them and his underwear down his hips and off his legs. Between your spread thighs you see his hard length, thick and veiny with the ridge of his cock pressing against your clit.

His dark gaze flicks up to yours. “Because I can. Because I want to. I plan on stealing your heart, but that doesn’t mean I have to wait to take the rest of you.”

“This is how you win a girl’s heart?” you ask, but he ignores you and moves down the bed, his face between your thighs. You suddenly realize what he means to do and your face floods with heat. You try to squeeze your legs closed but you can’t.

“Let me taste you a little.” He drags his tongue up the seam of your sex and then delves between the folds, searching for your clit. He finds it and sucks it noisily into his mouth, his eyes closed. His tongue works you mercilessly, until you’re swollen and aching, hot waves of pleasure pounding through you.

“You’re heaven, baby,” he groans. “You’re all wet for me, too.”

You squeeze your eyes shut in shame, trying to ignore what he’s doing to you. But you are wet, and you can’t help but feel every tantalising flick of his tongue and cry out when he spreads you open with his fingers to delve into your opening. Your feet rest on his broad back and his hair is falling into his eyes.

This isn’t supposed to be what your first time is like, with someone who knows too well what he’s doing and doesn’t give you even one second to breathe and catch up.

Taewook sits up and takes his length in his hand, fisting himself up and down. You’re transfixed by the sight. He plants his free hand by your head smiles breathlessly. “I could be down there for hours, but we don’t have all night. I don’t want to hurry through the main event.”

He drags the tip of his cock up and down your sex, making it glisten with your slipperiness. Both of you are enraptured by the sight, you with horror that’s verging on awe. His cock is too big and swollen, and he means to get all that inside you.

You breathe in sharply, struggling to move again, but you can’t. “No, Taewook, wait—”

The blunt tip of his cock slides against your entrance and pushes inside you. Just the tip, and he groans, a long, luxurious sound of a man who’s finally getting what he wants.

“Not too much already, is it?” he murmurs, brushing his mouth against yours. “I’ve got you nice and relaxed, so you just lie there and enjoy it.”

You’re only relaxed because you can’t move. Taewook grips his cock again and pushes further into you. Heat and a flicker of pain burst through you, and then it’s all delicious heat as he sinks deeper.

Then he pulls out and runs his fingers up and down his wet cock, slippery with just the faintest hint of blood. Your blood. Your innocence. Obliterated by him.

He makes a satisfied sound deep in his chest. “I thought you were a virgin. I hoped you were. All for me, baby. Always.”

He lines his cock up against your pussy and drives inside of you. You reach up and grab his shoulders, mouth open and breathing hard as he thrusts deep and pulls out again. Then deep into you again, filling you up with his heavy length.

He bites his lower lip and smiles at you as he moves, the muscles of his belly rippling. “You’re so perfect baby. I could play with you all night, but you want to come, don’t you? You want me to fuck you properly so you can release all that pent-up energy on my cock.”

You’re too overwhelmed by the sight of him to speak. By the feel of him invading your body, over and over, and the heady sensations that are rippling through you.

He kisses up your throat and murmurs in your ear, “I’ve got you, baby. You just focus on my cock pounding that pretty pussy of yours.”

Taewook reaches down between you and swipes your clit with the pad of his thumb. You moan louder, and feel the last of your composure start to break apart as he rubs your clit in time with his thrusting cock.

“You know what the best part is?” he says in your ear, his deep voice almost a growl. “I haven’t been using magic on you for the last ten minutes.”

Your eyes fly open and see your hands resting on his shoulders. Your legs wrapped around his hips. Your body doesn’t feel like rubber anymore, and your limbs are under your own control.

With an angry cry, you dig your nails into his back and drag them across his flesh.

Taewook hisses in pain and delight. “Yes, mark me up. Give me something to remember you by.”

You’re pinned down by his cock and his weight on you and mesmerised by the sight of him sliding in and out of you. Your core is slowly tightening up and you can feel that you’re on the brink of something earth shattering. If you push him away, you might never feel this way again.

“You want me, baby?” he asks, thrusting even faster than before. “You want me to keep going?”

You pant without thinking. “I hate you. I hate you so much. I’m going to—I’m going to—ahh!” Your words are lost in a long wail as your core clamps around his cock and white heat and pleasure explodes through you.

Taewook pushes your knees up to your shoulders, spreading your thighs wide and fucking you recklessly, selfishly, taking what he wants now. His dark brows are drawn tightly together and his teeth are grit. His whole body suddenly goes ridged and he groans, pushing himself almost unbearably deep inside you.

Breathing hard, he looks down at you, and his lips curve into a smile. His cheeks are flushed and his chest is lifting and falling. He looks magnificent. One of your ankles is twined and your hands are gripping the sheets.

“You’re incredible, baby. I could feel you come. Your pussy is so strong.” He gazes down at where his cock is still lodged inside of you, and you see the shimmer of his cum start to leak out as he moves back and forth.

Slowly, he withdraws, and your legs slide against the mattress, boneless again. You haven’t caught up with the world and what’s just happened. You don’t want to, either. You want to stay here in this warm cocoon and enjoy the residual sparks of your climax. On the other side of that is dealing what just happened.

There’s no way you’re ready for that.

Taewook smooths back your hair and kisses your damp brow. Then he gets up and saunters away from the bed. He disappears for a moment, and then comes back wearing a white bathrobe.

“You can go in a minute. Put your clothes on.” He takes a seat in the armchair at the end of the bed.

Feeling hollowed out, you slowly pull your clothes on, aware that Taewook is watching you with laser focus.

You perch on the end of the bed, trying not to look at him. The robe open down his chest. The black choker making a mockery both of you and of Taehee.

“What are we waiting for?” you ask, but he just goes on staring at you.

A few minutes later there’s pounding on the front door. Taewook lifts his hand and makes a gesture, and the door crashes open.

You hear two frantic voices calling your name.

A moment later, Taehee and Yooha burst into the bedroom. They take one look at you sitting on the bed with your hair disheveled, and they lunge for Taewook.

Taehee’s white-faced and furious, and Yooha is yelling. “I’ll kill you. What did you do to her?”

Taewook looks past them to you, still relaxed as they grab the neck of his robe.

His lips curve into a smile. You’re sharing something intimate. Like lovers. If you don’t do something, Taehee and Yooha really will kill him.

“Nothing happened,” you whisper, and Taewook cups a hand around his ear, still smirking. You take a deep breath and say louder, “Nothing happened.”

Taehee and Yooha turn to you and stare.

“Taewook is screwing with you.” You wince at your choice of words. Screw.

Unable to bear their stares any longer, you get up and hurry down the hall. You just want to be gone from here and in your bedroom alone.

The boys follow you out. You can feel their reluctance as you near the front door. You stand outside and wait for them. Taehee comes out and places a hand on your shoulder, asking if you’re okay. You’re too ashamed to even look at him.

As Yooha comes out of the front door, you see Taewook behind him, smiling that secretive smile.

He catches your eye, and he winks.

He turns, and as you watch, he drops the robe from his shoulders and saunters naked back down the hall, the red nail marks you scored into his muscular back clearly visible.

You grab the front door and pull it closed before the boys can see. Hiding what you and Taewook did. Hiding your shame. All hell will break loose if they see that.

The three of you drive home in Taehee’s car. Yooha tried to get in the back with you, but you pushed him away. You curl around yourself, trying to hide from the world, but the moon keeps peeking in the window at you, reminding that you can’t hide what you did from Taewook. You wonder if he’s standing at the window in his apartment right now.

If you’re both staring at the same moon.

Just like lovers.

Thank you for reading! You can send requests for fics to my ask box. At the moment I’m writing for Wannabe Challenge and LoveUnholyc. Find all my finished fics here.

#Seo Taewook #wannabe challenge

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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Taste Your Beating Heart (Taywhora) - Holtzmanns

word count: 3142 | read on ao3

What do you get when a vampire wrestling with a morality crisis or two bumps into a student protecting herself with a pocketknife in one hand and a Percy Pig bag in the other? Quite the late night encounter, that’s what.

AN: Thank you all so much for the love on my first two taywhora fics! This one is slightly insane and popped into my head fully formed somehow. Thank you Writ for betaing and always helping me bounce ideas around and thank you Pop for taking out anything too North American sounding. Enjoy! Title from Howl by Florence + the Machine.

Tayce deserves a little treat.

It’s been a few months, anyway, since her last one. A girl’s got cravings.

The vegan selection just doesn’t do it for her after a while. She doesn’t get how Bimini sustains themselves on only ethically sourced blood.

Being a vampire in the twenty-first century brings its own unique set of challenges, that’s for sure.

It had been easier in the 1800s, before fingerprinting and DNA evidence existed and Tayce could get her blood and dispose of the bodies without a care in the world. Now, though? She has to be careful. Murder is apparently now much more trackable in today’s society.

The audacity of it all, really.

But Tayce is careful. She’s adapted with the times, perfected her strategies of getting rid of bodies that she’s fed from without leaving nary a trace. She hasn’t had any fingers pointed in her direction yet, and it’s probably for the best, to stay under the radar.

Plus, she does feel a little bad once she’s done with a body and effectively offed someone. Just a little.

So really, every few months is perfectly reasonable.

She’ll look for someone pretty today. Someone who she can enjoy. No one too old for a human, not when the blood gets a little stale by the time they’re in their eighties. Someone who’s hopefully better than her last human snack, when she had to go for a bloke that was trying to catcall her. Then again, bearing her fangs had never felt so satisfying as it did right then.

Tonight, she’ll go for someone a bit more delicate. There’s a head of white blond curls farther down the street, ducking towards an alleyway a block or so down, and Tayce can feel the excitement run through her veins because she’s perfect. An easy, discrete target.

Tayce speeds up her pace until she can practically smell the girl’s blood as she gets closer, and the girl is still in the alleyway and Tayce can’t sense anyone else near her and really, she can’t ask for an easier catch. She flips her hair over her shoulder before turning the corner, her steps light enough not to make a sound before-

“Oh, hello! Didn’t see you there!”

Tayce freezes in her tracks when the girl’s suddenly turned around, a curious look on her face, and shit, Tayce usually gets close enough to bite their neck before being noticed just a second too late.

“Just trying to look for a snack for my walk. I’ve got half a bag of percies left somewhere in my bag. Food for the road, y’know?”

The girl’s rummaging around in her bag again and this is it, the perfect timing and Tayce can finally have a good meal for the first time in months, none of that vegan shit, but-

The girl looks up again, a triumphant grin on her face with an empty looking bag of Percy Pigs in hand.

“Success. There’s only one left in here, though. Sad. I’d give you one if I had more. You want half of this one? Not too fun to be out walking so late,” the girl shrugs as she opens the package.

Tayce manages to shake her head through her own disbelief, mostly at herself because this really is the perfect time to just strike , but the girl’s trying to pull the gummy in half and it really is a sight to see.

“I’m vegan,” Tayce mutters, because really, watching the girl try to break the gummy in two is a little ridiculous, when Tayce can’t even eat it.

She wants her own snack, which, for some godforsaken reason, she hasn’t even tried to go for yet.

“Suit yourself,” the girl shrugs before tossing the gummy candy into her mouth. “What did you say your name was again?”

Tayce pauses. “I didn’t.”

It’s starting to get truly silly at this point. On Tayce’s other hunts the human would be long departed, and Tayce’s cravings satisfied. But here she is now, standing in an alley with her human target munching on a bloody Percy Pig and looking adorable while doing it.

Unbelievable.

The girl, for her part, looks completely unfazed. “I’m Aurora. Not the princess. Though I would be in a jacket like yours, though, it’s absolutely beautiful. Where’d you get that from?”

“Huh?” Tayce blinks, before realizing Aurora (she never learns her targets’ names, Christ) is looking at her with an expectant look on her face. “Oh. A friend made it back in the day.”

Back in 1865. Not that the human needs to know that.

“The lace trim. My god. Stunning,” The girl is gushing, getting closer to her and reaching for the jacket, and really, Tayce should just go for it, have her snack with a bite to the neck but it’s strangely fascinating, the way the girl’s fingers graze against the jacket.

Maybe the girl can live for five more minutes or so. Tayce isn’t that hungry. But only because Tayce likes to watch humans in their natural habitats.

“She’s a good designer,” Tayce gets out, and there’s a voice in her brain yelling at her for wasting her time, conversing with a human, but really, as much as she hates to admit it, it’s a little fun.

In a strange, morbid sort of manner.

“She really is,” Aurora murmurs. “She got an insta or anything? She take any commissions? I’d love something like this.”

“Not sure. I’d look but my phone is dead, sorry.”

Christ. Tayce is really out here entertaining this woman’s interest. Coming up with a cover story for the fact that Ellie made this centuries ago.

But who knows, maybe Ellie does take requests. Not that she would from a human.

“Shame. I’ll definitely have to look around for something similar, because it’s to die for.”

“To die for, indeed,” Tayce murmurs, and she can almost hear the girl’s heart pumping and pumping and finally, she can have a worthy midnight snack, one who tastes as good as she looks.

She takes a step closer, but then the girl’s brushing past her out of the alleyway and waving at her cheerily with her bag slung over her shoulder. “I better get going. Lovely to meet you, though! Toodles!”

“Toodles?” Tayce mutters under her breath, because honestly, it sounds like something she’d say herself.

The girl’s walking away and Tayce is too caught up in the shine of her hair under the streetlights to go after her.

Besides, the girl says words like toodles. She deserves to live another night just for that.

Tayce sighs as she watches the girl walk away. It’s like catching and releasing a perfectly good fish, really. Rather stupid. But hey, she can find another target, it’s not an impossible task.

She doesn’t have to look very far, because there’s a man by the closest corner, and he’s watching Aurora on the other side of the street, and Tayce has to wrinkle her nose when she notices the look on the man’s face.

Leering. Hungry.

Yeah, it’s fine when Tayce does it, but for a man like this? Who certainly doesn’t have good intentions?

Well, Tayce will just have to take care of it.

His blood is tangy, not at all satisfying in the way that Tayce had hoped for when starting her hunt earlier tonight. But he will have to do.

Tayce will wait a few more months before another good snack, like she’s used to. In the meantime, it’s back to sipping through a straw from blood bank bags. Not her favourite type of beverage.

Tayce makes it to two months before she starts to get the itch for another hunt. It’s not that the bagged blood isn’t satisfying, because it is. It keeps her from being hungry. But bloody hell, does she need a drink that’s a little more fresh.

Cara snorts from her spot on the couch when Tayce ties her hair back, slips a jacket over her shoulders. “You always make it such an event, and for what? You could just do it every day like the rest of us.”

“Excuse me for trying to be a good person,” Tayce grumbles, bending down to tie the laces of her trainers. “I don’t want to hurt humans that much.”

“Only every couple months. How nice of you.”

“The bagged blood isn’t so bad, y’know,” Tayce starts, picking up her keys. “Perfectly reasonable for any vampire to sustain themselves on.”

Cara makes a face. “Yeah. Any depressed vampire who hates everything and everything.”

“Bimini does it all the time. We both could be more like them. Do some good in the world.”

“Some good in the world? Honey, I’m here for both a good time and a long time. Seeing the humans suffer provides some entertainment, at least,” Cara grins, and Tayce can’t help but snort.

“You’re an absolute beast. Both figuratively and literally.”

Cara waves when Tayce reaches for the door. “Get home safe! Don’t let the humans hit you with a morality crisis on your way home.”

Tayce wonders, as she heads out onto the street, how easy it would be to have Cara’s mentality. To not care about the chaos she creates, to eat however she wants.

A tiny, tiny little part in her brain does care, though. About how the families of her meals react to their loved one going missing. How they search and search for answers.

Can’t be very nice.

But then again, Tayce does have cravings. Indulging every few months can’t be that bad, can it? Not when it cancels out.

The city is really nice, late at night. Tayce doesn’t have much to fear, not when she can decimate any men that saunter her way with rather insidious agendas. She can enjoy the crisp air and focus, really focus, on the scents around her, perhaps something human that’ll lead to a nice meal that she can enjoy, and-

Oh, no. Tayce knows that smell.

“Hey, you! I know you!”

That voice. Tayce certainly knows that voice.

Aurora’s hair is dark brown now, but Tayce would recognize that grin anywhere, when it lights up her face like that. She’s got a messenger bag on her shoulder, and, oh, of course. A Percy Pig bag in hand.

Naturally.

“What you doing out, so late at night? There are monsters lurking out yer in the dark, you know,” Tayce purrs, and wants to kick herself for it when the girl’s eyes light up at her voice.

She needs to stop egging this on. Interacting with the girl the first time and letting her go was already dangerous enough as it is.

But still, it’s interesting to see her again. Someone who was almost prey.

“Oh, no. I’m prepared,” Aurora says while reaching into her pocket, her voice incredibly self assured for someone so scrawny. “See?”

The pocket knife between Aurora’s fingers is tiny, and one that Tayce would easily be able to bend in half in her palm. It’s cute in a way, if she’s being honest.

Tayce plasters on the best poker face that she can, never mind that Cara’s made fun of her lack of acting skills in the past. “Very fierce and intimidating. I’m terrified.”

Aurora shrugs. “Since pepper spray and tasers are banned, this is the best I’ve got. I did Google, just in case.”

“What you out so late for, anyway, missy?” Tayce can’t help the question slipping from her mouth, ignoring the voice in her head that’s shouting at her to stop talking, to not dig herself into a deeper hole with this girl.

But Tayce can’t help it, she’s curious. This is the second time she’s seen this girl out so late, entirely too cheery for one, two, in the morning. It does beg the question.

“I’m a fashion student, and I intern at Vivienne Westwood. With all the deadlines? Late nights at the studio are my best friend.” Aurora grins, and Tayce can see from the excitement on her features just how proud she is of herself.

Tayce should have known, really, from Aurora’s obsession with her jacket the last time they met.

“Well, well, well, baby, look at you. A girl on the job,” Tayce murmurs, and she’s not sure if she’s imagining the girl absolutely basking in the phrase.

Aurora does seem easily pleased.

“What about you? What you out so late for?” Aurora asks, genuine curiosity on her face.

Tayce pauses, pursing her lips together to keep her smile from spreading. “You could say I fancied a late night snack.”

She can almost hear her own stomach rumbling. She’s practically starving at this hour of the night.

“Yeah? I get you there girl, honestly. My favourite spot’s this kebab shop down the road from-” Aurora pauses, her eyes squinting as her head tilts slightly. “Huh.”

“What?” Tayce raises an eyebrow, because Aurora’s eyebrows are already high on her forehead and she looks a little too interested in examining Tayce’s face.

“You…nevermind,” Aurora mumbles, and Tayce can sense the way her heart is beating just a little bit faster in her chest.

She’s nervous. A first. But why?

“You notice something?”

The air feels just a little bit more charged once Tayce asks the question, because Aurora’s eyes are widening and her eyes keep flicking down towards Tayce’s mouth and oh, maybe it’s because Tayce has gone and smiled.

Fully smiled.

Fangs out.

Oops.

“Where’d you get those from?” Aurora breathes out the question, the heave in her chest visible, and fuck it.

Tayce has come out to roam the streets tonight for a singular purpose, anyway.

She takes a step towards Aurora, getting in her space and crowding her until the backs of her shoulders are up against the wall, and the blood pumping in her veins is almost tantalizing.

Getting to know her snacks before indulging seems to have been a great idea.

“Where do you think?”

The question hangs in the air, almost pausing time around them for a millisecond before Tayce reaches down, circling Aurora’s wrists with her grip before pulling them up overhead, against the wall. Keeping her in place. Not that Aurora would be able to outrun her, anyway.

“Oh,” Aurora gasps, and her pupils are blown and her lips slightly parted and she’s not scared, she’s…

For a lack of better wording, the girl looks rather turned on.

“Do you like that, baby?” Tayce shifts her position so that she’s holding Aurora’s wrists with one hand, bringing her other so that she can run her fingers through Aurora’s hair, before tilting her face up by her chin.

Aurora’s pliant, leaning into her touch, and it’s almost intoxicating, in a way. The way she’s got Aurora trapped, but also how Aurora’s letting her.

As if she has a choice.

Not that Aurora looks particularly worried, for her situation. “Are we about to kiss? Are you going to lean in, or is this more of a thing where we both initiate it, or…”

Bold. But it’s an invitation for Tayce to play with her food just a little more.

“You do know that I could kill you any second now? You’re on a very slippery slope, girl.”

“Kinky,” Aurora squeaks out, and Tayce can’t help but raise an eyebrow.

“Drain your blood, and all that. Suck you dry.”

“Hot. Take me out first though, yeah? Treat a girl nice before draining her life force?”

Aurora’s batting her eyes, a contrast from the bead of sweat at her temple, the speeding up of her heart. She’s a fight or flight response wrapped up in a false sense of bravado, making the game just a little more intoxicating.

So Tayce grins, stepping in just a little bit closer to Aurora, her lips near her ear so that she can whisper in a way that’ll make the hair on Aurora’s skin stand on end. “Oh, she’s negotiating. She has demands.”

“What, afraid you won’t be able to satisfy them?” Aurora’s response is immediate despite the way she’s squirming in Tayce’s grip, and Tayce doesn’t miss the way her thighs press together.

Tayce has experimented in a multitude of ways during her immortal lifespan, but this? A human pressed up against a wall, inches away from her fangs while pretending to be completely unfazed? Tayce is enjoying it more than she wants to admit.

The girl’s face takes on a simper, the corners of her lips curling upwards, despite remaining trapped in Tayce’s grip. “Y’know what? I think you’re scared to do it. You’ve been hesitating this entire time for a reason, haven’t you? You can’t bear to kill me. I’m too pretty, aren’t I?”

“Don’t play with fire, baby.”

“Prove it, then. Do it, yeah? If you’re going to. Don’t keep a girl waiting,” Aurora breathes out, her breath hitching in her throat and Tayce pauses, her eyes flicking from the girl’s eyes to her lips to her neck and-

She decides. Albeit a second too late.

Because Aurora’s leaning forward and kissing her before she can strike.

There’s no way in hell she can tell Cara about this, the fact that she’s kissing a fucking human while she can still smell her blood pumping, and Tayce is hungry, damn it, she can feel her stomach rumbling as she weaves a hand into Aurora’s hair.

Aurora licks into her mouth, her wrists straining against Tayce’s grip as she whines and Christ, it’s been too long since Tayce has done this. Any self respecting person would not feel as affected as she is, or find it as dizzying or want more. Because Tayce needs more, wants more, from this human whose hips are pushing forward to grind against hers.

Aurora bites at her bottom lip and Tayce can’t help but smirk as she pulls back from the kiss, because Aurora’s breaths are coming out in pants and she looks as dazed as Tayce feels. “Looks like I’m not the only one who likes to bite.”

“Enough incentive to keep me around, yeah?” Aurora murmurs, her bottom lip caught between her teeth and Tayce hates how much the sight of it is absolutely doing it for her. “You going to whisk me back to your Dracula castle, or not?”

“Your survival instincts are incredibly slutty,” Tayce snorts as she lets Aurora’s wrists go.

Aurora wastes no time, her fingers grabbing Tayce’s belt loops to pull her closer. “Not difficult when the creatures of the night turn out to be hot as you are.”

Tayce can’t help but ghost her lips over Aurora’s, grinning when Aurora lets out a small gasp. “Y'know, you’re the only human to successfully whore their way out of being killed. I’m impressed.”

“Now, you know they don’t call me A’whora for nothing.”

“Pardon? They call you what?”

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #a'whora #tayce #taywhora #uk2 #lesbian au #vampire au #holtzmanns #taste your beating heart

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mobius8 · 4 years ago

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Full Chapter: Green Hill Zone 0.5

It was relatively quiet in the Garden Sector the two White Berets chose to patrol. Although it wasn't the greatest park on the city planet of Grand Acornia, the Green Hill Zone was still pretty amazing. It was practically its own little world.

As the brown groundhog wearing a white beret watched and looked around, he sighed. "Why are we even here today? Its not like the Green Hill Zone is even the most popular garden sector. Also, its likely most of us are keeping watch on the more urban centers. No telling how soon Robotnik's going to get here...I mean, he's likely already conquered the Hedgian sector, considering how General D'Coolette disappeared."

The purple bird with the same outfit on near him, shook her head, looking into the sky. "There's no telling, really. ...But, it is worrying that we haven't heard from him. I hope he's just pinned down in Hedgia somewhere, but, we've got word of him moving through our sector. ...Its strange, though. We haven't heard anything from the central sensors, even though he should already be here by now."

The groundhog muttered something that sounded pretty dark. But, perhaps he was justified in doing so. Few liked the resident Acornian 'Warlord', afterall... "Kodos is insane. Its as if he expects Robotnik to roll over and surrender as soon as he gets here. It doesn't feel like he's taking this threat seriously...Maybe we shou-"

"Shhhhh!" She held her hand up to her beak, causing him to look over toward her. "Look." She pointed up, and, there, making a steady descent toward the planet, was something fairly round, and decent-sized in the atmosphere, probably no bigger than an escape pod.

Eyes widening, he stood up. "How did something like that get past our sensors without anyone knowing?!"

She shook her head. "I don't know...But, from what I can tell from the angle of its descent, it looks like it's going to land right here." As she continued watching the object in question, her eyes looked filled with worry. It was definitely looking more like an escape pod, as it got closer...But, there was no telling who or what it would have in it exactly. "We need to send an evacuation order."

Almost as if he had had the exact same idea, he was already reaching for his communicator, nodding in response to her, getting into the area wide transmission for all the hidden speakers strewn throughout the Green Hill Zone Garden. "Attention all Acornian residents in the Green Hill Zone! We have an unidentified object looking to make impact somewhere here! Please proceed toward the exits in an orderly fashion!"

...He practically rolled his eyes, as he heard exclamations over the area. It didn't sound like everyone was panicking, but, a few were definitely acting more scared than necessary, at least by his logic.

His fellow guard shook her head, as if she was already guessing what he was thinking. "Everyone's worried about Robotnik. At least most of them have the common sense not to panic over it, right?"

He sighed a bit. "Right...Common sense. Because thats what it's called when big ol' Kodos acts shifty, reassuring all of us thats it gonna be 'fine'..."

Standing up, the bird placed on her comrade's shoulder, looking concerned for him. "Hey. We will make it through all of this...Right?"

He looked back at her for a few moments, doubt clear in his eyes, but then he shook his head, and sighed again. "Right, you're right. Even if we can't rely on Kodos, maybe General D'Coolette's boy will come through for us."

She smiled a bit, nodding to try and help reassure him, before she looked back up at the sky. Seeing how the pod was much closer now, she didn't look any less worried about it.

The groundhog turned his head. "How long do you think it'll be until it-?"

He grunted, placing his hands on his ears, as the pod seemed to answer that question for him, crashlanding into a spot not too far away from them, shovelling up a whole lot of dirt for up to twenty-five feet, then just stopping. Shaking his head, the groundhog waved at his companion to follow, moving over to the pod. As they got there, he looked over what all they could still see of the pod. "Well, looks like its definitely some sort of variety of escape pod."

Having followed him, she nodded, looking it over and- "Look!" She pointed to a symbol on the side of the pod: A hedge, with an ornate sword in the middle, circled by a golden ring.

His eyes were practically bugging right out of his head. "That's the Royal Hedgian symbol! Who the heck-?"

As if answering his question, the pod hatch began to open, and, they could hear coughing sounds from inside it. That didn't sound too good.

As they both looked inside, they could see a male blue hedgehog, probably not any older than thirteen, wearing what looked to be the scarf.

"We need to help him out of there," the groundhog mumbled, and, the bird girl, with some trepidation nodded. They both reached in, grabbed his hands, and helped to pull out of the pod, onto his feet on the ground.

He seemed a bit dazed...And, now that they could look over him a bit better, he seemed to be wearing odd clothes. On the long black scarf, there where several little white star-like shapes, representing what you might see looking into space from a distance. Some of the little white dots were more filled out, looking to be closer, and, some looked like specks, more distant than the others. But, star-themed clothing itself wasn't necessarily an oddity in any Mobian sector, no. There were a fair amount of people who wore varying types of space-themed clothing.

Rather...The oddity lay in the red symbols adorning his choice of apparel: Mobius Strips. Some would even call them '8's or infinity symbols. There was a large, painted, red metallic '8' shaped ring on the end of his scarf, a red '8' on the center of both of his white gloves, and, on his red and white shoes, there were red, horizontal '8's on each side of his shoes. It was a bit peculiar, to be honest. While the strip was considered an important symbol through the galaxy(Not only did it represent infinity, but, the Mobius Strip lanes were also the method used by space travel for the majority of the galaxy's inhabitants), it was odd to see it used in their apparel, by someone who looked more like an ordinary teenager, than an infinity or chaos priest.

However, rather than focusing upon that for too long, the groundhog looked right at him. "Hey, kid, you okay? That couldn't have been the easiest landing." Seeing that the kid was having a bit of trouble standing, he positioned himself under his arm, helping to lift him more firmly up onto his feet, grunting. "There ya go."

The other white beret, however, didn't look so helpful, just yet. Instead, she looked right at the hedgehog with suspicion. "You're from the Hedgian sector, correct...? Why does your pod bear the Royal Hedgian crest?"

The young man looked up at her, honestly seeming kind of confused. "Wha...?" Seemed like he was just orienting himself. The groundhog didn't know why his partner was interrogating the kid already, especially since he didn't seem dangerous. More dazed, honestly. "I-I dunno what you're talking about...Where- Where are my parents?" Concern started to show heavily on the hedgehog's face. "W-where's Fi? Mighty, Mina, Ray? A-are they okay...?"

The groundhog gave his companion a bit of look. "Hey, Clarice? I know you're worried, but, you were the one who was just telling me a minute ago everything was fine. Why are you interrogating the kid like this...? He's clearly a refugee. And, the only refugee from Hedgia we've seen, at that!"

As Clarice took in what he said, her face softened, and she sighed. "I know, you're right..." She moved under the arm, helping him to stand up better, grunting a bit herself." Still, I think we should bring him before the king. Like you said, he is the first refugee from there we've seen, after all."

The groundhog nodded. It wouldn't be a bad idea, anyway. King Nigel might have been the only king that he knew, but, still, he was the nicest king they knew.

However, before they could get too far-

"Wait!" A young, female chipmunk suddenly burst out from some nearby bushes, not looking any older than the hedgehog. She was wearing a black shirt, adorned with pointy yellow star patterns, and, wearing a blue jacket, the pocket of which stored some sort of boxy electronic device. She was also wearing blue goggles, with golden rims. "I-I want to come with you."

The groundhog groaned a bit. "Look, kid, we need to get him before the king and-"

"Wait," Clarice spoke up. "Ron, don't you recognize her...?"

Ron blinked a bit, looking a bit more closely at her and- ...He had no idea why, but, he was only just realizing now, that this was none other than Princess Sally Acorn. Of course, part of the reason why he hadn't recognized her as first, was likely because she wasn't wearing any sort of royal ensemble. Princess Acorn practically never wore any sort of tiara, or other royal outfit these days, if she could help it. Anyway, he knew what was going to happen, if he declined to let the princess follow them...She was probably going to complain to the king. She did have a fascination with things outside of Grand Acornia, after all.

With a heavy sigh, he looked at her, and just sort of nodded. "Yeah, sure, you can follow us, princess."

With a smile, the princess took a position behind them, and Ron rolled his eyes, moving with Clarice and the kid toward another exit.

...Honestly, though, he couldn't blame her. He was kind of curious about this kid from another sector himself.

--------

After they reached the royal throne room, Princess Sally decided to step back to the sides, and watch, as the royal white berets brought the other before the court, which consister of her father, King Nigel Acorn, in an ornate, blue and red kingly outfit, with gold trimmings, as well as her father's advisors, consisting of General Kodos, a hulking beast of a lion, wearing a heavy version of a typical Acornian General's uniform, Walter Naugus, her king's vizier, all clad in his spooky purple and black wizard uniforms, Sir Charles, also known as Uncle Chuck, wearing some brown and green engineer's apparel, and, the skinny Dr. Ovi Kintobor, wearing his typical white scientist outfit as always.

OH, lest she forget, Antoine was there. To be honest, despite how formal he seemed to act, it felt like her father was accepting him as an honorary fourth advisor

Honestly, it wasn't everyday that a pod from another sector crashlanded on Grand Acornia. Better the Green Hill Garden zone, though, than any of the city planet's major population centers. To be frank, when she first saw the pod, she was suspicious, wondering if this might be some sort of Robotnik trap. But, to be honest, it would have been easier for him to grab something not belonging to the Hedgian royal family, since she had heard he had gotten several hedgian noble families into his pockets anyway.

...It was also weird how they hadn't heard anything about the Hedgian Royal Family themselves.

Suddenly, however, she was broken out of her train of thought by her father finally addressing the blue stranger, after the guards having finished talking. "I say, good lad," Nigel started, in a polite, cordial manner, "Is it true you're from Hedgia itself?"

The blue hedgehog, still looking shook up a bit, managed a nod. "Y-yeah, I was."

"Do you have a name?"

"Sonic, Sir."

"Ah, Sonic!" Nigel promptly smiled at that. "Good to meet you, Sonic. Do you have any friends or family, that you know of?"

Sonic took a moment, but, all of a sudden, he smiled. "Ah, that's an easy one, sir! My parents, Bern and Estelle. I've also got my pals, Mighty, Mina, Ray, and Fiona. All of them are pretty darn amazing!"

Nigel simply chuckled. Sally could only imagine what was going on in his head listening to this. Probably something like 'Ah, kids'. Anyway, the king spoke once more. "I see, I see. And, how long have you been with Bern and Estelle now?"

Sonic paused, double taking. For what reason, she had no idea. It felt like for the longest time, he hadn't said a word. Sally felt all sorts of antsy. What sort of mystery was afoot here? Did he not know how long he had been with his own parents? Was this actually the trap she thought it might be?

Finally, though, he answered, "A-about a year, sir."

This one caused Nigel to frown a bit. Even Sally could tell, there was something suspicious about that...Unless he had been an orphan until recently, which did make sense, she supposed, but, there were the other signs, including the mobius strip imagery. That wasn't a common sort of thing, not by a long shot, even if some did see it as the symbol for infinity, or travel.

Anyway, Nigel finally spoke up again. "And, how much about your parents do you know, Sonic? And, don't worry if you don't wish to answer. I don't want to pressure you if you're unsure, or if it would make you uncomfortable." He told him, admittedly looking a bit concerned for the boy. Even she had to admit, under most normal circumstances, they should be welcoming Hedgian refugees with open arms, but, to be honest? Robotnik made that difficult. Humans and Overlanders made so much difficult at times, especially with their own noble houses, and military. At Least Acornia tended to be relatively peaceful, unless provoked. But, Robotnik and his army were on the war path, made up of not only robots, but, also, ex-GUN officials.

Anyway, seemed like Sonic was doing all he could to remember about them, before all of the eights/strips on his clothing started to glow red, on his scarf, gloves, and shoes, and he started to shake, causing Sally to look a bit fearful. What was this? What was even happening?!

After ten seconds, though, he finally collapsed to the floor, clearly unconscious.

Nigel stood right up. "Guards! Take him to a guest room so that he can get some rest, and recover from...whatever that was." Even he looked shook up from witnessing that.

Sally started to come a bit closer, and asked. "C-can I help...? Nothing about that seemed right."

Nigel smiled kindly at his daughter, and went, "I'm sure so long as we give him time to himself, he'll be fine. Granted, we should also have the royal physician check on him, to see if there's anything specifically wrong."

"I say we execute him!", Kodos suddenly exclaimed, rather dramatically, snarling as he saw two guards take the boy away.

"Are you daft, Kodos, or has all your stubbornness finally acclimated into pure stupidity? We have to study the boy for any sort of enemy magic!" Naugus berated him.

"Heavens no!" Ovi exclaimed.

"Don't be ludicrous!" Nigel snarled at Kodos and Naugus.

"He's only a boy!" Chuck told them...Yet, for some reason, he looked ill at ease. Almost as if he knew something that the others didn't.

Meanwhile, Antoine, who had been standing right by the king's side, had been watching, silently observing. Sally didn't know what to think of it, if she was being honest with herself...

--------

About an hour later, still in the throne room, stood the coyote, who had been pondering over the events from earlier for all this time now. Once things had quieted down, and there hadn't been any more royal business for the being, and the other royal advisors had departed, Twan spoke up. After all, what better time to talk about this than at that very moment? "Your Majesty, s'il vous plait, might we be discussing the hedgehog now?"

Luckily for him, while the king raised an eyebrow at this, he still nodded and said "Proceed."

Twan cleared his throat. "Well, not only seeing as we be knowing little about him, aside from what he himself be claiming, and the fact that he be coming here in a royal Hedgian pod, but, also that mon princess has been developing an interest in him, we cannot, how you say, be too trusting of everyone, especially with what has been going on in Hedgian space, oui? Therefore, I would like to be being the hedgehog's escort for the time being." After all, someone had to be keeping an eye on him, and, if no one else, why not him?

The king thought about this, before nodding. "Very well, I wish to know more about him myself. Your request is granted."

The Coyote gave him a bow, and proceeded to leave the scene, all kinds of suspicions running through his head. But, of course, they were on Grand Acornia, which meant the hedgehog wasn't going to get away with anything suspicious on his watch...

--------

Hours later, in a very lavish bedroom, the blue hedgehog would start to stir. As his emerald eyes finally opened, he took in the room. "Wow, looks really, really nice..." For some reason, he didn't seem as in awe of the room as he should have been. "...Oh, right, the throne room! Man, did I go unconscious or something while I was in there...? Gee whiz, just what is going on with me?"

He was looking around, when suddenly, he heard a knocking at the door. "Huh, wonder who that could be..." He finally got up, and started walking toward the door, before opening it up, and- Woah! There was that coyote dude he recognized who had been by the king's side.

"Bonjour, Blue Hedgehog...Tis being I, Antoine Decoolette, who has been being assigned to watch you as your escort from now on. Please be realizing, I will accept absolutely no kind of treachery from you, comprendre? If you do anything that jeopardizes the royal family, nay, the kingdom itself, I shall deliver unto you a butt kicking so ginormous, it shall make your father weep, wherever he be! Comprendre?"

Sonic backed up a bit, at first unsure about the route the conversation was taking...But, then, he just smiled, and chuckled a bit. The coyote was just trying to serve his people and country, that was all. "Yeah, don't worry, I'll try not to give ya a reason, Twan."

The coyote looked a bit shocked at first...Before nodding. "That is a good idea, mon ami. You can jus- Hey!" He declared in shock, as Sally suddenly just brushed right past him, coming in. "Princess, we don't really know anything about him, he's-!"

"It's okay, Twan, if he had any bad intentions, I'm sure he would have tried something by now."

Antoine stopped, groaning, and looking to the side, grumbling. "Is there being anyone who does not naturally grapple onto my nickname? Even Tails and Rotor did it after they first met me!"

Sally seemed to just kind of ignore him, focusing on Sonic at the moment. "Hey, you, mysterious stranger! Why don't you tell us some about yourself, okay? Like, if you can, what's your home like? What are your friends like? How did you end up on that escape pod?"

Sonic looked taken aback, but, then- "...Oh, right, the princess! Yeah, you were there in the garden zone when they found me, weren't you? I can tell you about myself...But, you have to do the same~ How about a game of ten questions?"

"Deal! Okay, lets, see, uhhhh...What was your home like?"

"Eh, if we're talking about the area where I was raised, homey, but, kinda boring. That's why I used to hang out with my friends so much. Okay, now for you, Twan mentioned something about Rotor and Tails. Who are they?"

"Oh, they're Uncle Chuck's apprentices, they're both basically prodigies when it comes to tech. You should meet them yourself. Okay, next question, what are your friends like?"

"Oh, all of them are pretty cool, especially Mighty and Mina." ...Well, that was a short answer. "Next one, who was that hedgehog that was with the king?"

"Uncle Chuck, I mentioned him to you when you asked about Rotor and Tails. He's one of my father's most loyal advisors, and, a great engineer. Now...how the pod thing happen?"

"..." Sonic scratched the back of his head. "Memories are kind of murky, but, I can remember Bern and Estelle launching that thing with me in it, inside our barn. They told me they loved me, then sent me here. I kinda miss them, and my birth parents...Its kind of weird, though."

Sally blinked. "What is?"

"I remember having two moms at one point, but- That can't be right... Can it?"

Sally just kind of blushed, before shaking her head. "There are all kinds of life styles, Sonic. Anyway, I think we should go get Ice Cream."

Antoine deadpanned. "Princess, he cannot be of the going of anywhere without me, due to my being his escort."

"Then, you can come too, Twan. Remind me again, what's your favorite flavor?"

Twan couldn't help but blush at the current state of affairs, and answered somewhat meekly. "I-it's being mint chocolate chip..."

Sally nodded, and, once the three were ready, they proceeded to leave

--------

The royal engineering lab, the current residence of the Starblazer, a twenty-man fighting starcraft meant to protect not only against Robotnik's forces, but, whatever other threats they might face. Tails and Rotor were working on it at the moment, while Muttski was kind of just watching and studying. As for Chuck? He was in the corner...

Lamenting something. What was he lamenting? Well, not that the others would know, but, his brother, of course. Chuck'd been acting weird ever since he saw that other hedgehog in the throne room, the one who had arrived in the Royal Hedgian pod, and, it was probably because it brought not only memories, but, also, other things: Like regrets.

"Was that really him, Jules? He looks so grown up since I last saw them...Granted, its been a while since I've been to Hedgia. Too many scars, I think. Still, thats no excuse for their uncle to be making. I wonder how the other two are doing? They probably don't even remember me... I'm not sure even he remembered me. Then again, if I just come out of a landing like that- Eh...Better not ask too much. Sounds like something's happened...Something I don't know about."

--------

"I wonder what's up with Chuck," the two-tailed fox mechanic went. "He's not really like this usually...at least, not when we're working on something this big."

Rotor just shrugged. "Probably just thinking on his home country, Tails. He does get like that sometimes. Now, lets see here..." How could they improve upon the Starblazer? Felt like it already had some of the best stuff they could work on.

...As he was thinking on that, though, his thoughts turned to Sonic, the hedgian they had heard about. Wasn't it kind of odd that this was happening, just as Robotnik was seemingly getting closer? And, heck, felt like barely anyone actually knew what was going on with Hedgia. He bet Twan was suspicious of their new arrival, though.

He'd heard that Sally was also curious about him, though, and, Rotor couldn't help but wonder why. Probably because he was another outsider from Hedgia, most likely. With all the political turmoil involved in that sector, a lot of people were likely curious about what was going on.

Ah, well. After he had thought on for a little bit, he resumed his work with Tails on the Starblazer.

--------

As the Chinchilla ate her electric lemonade sherbet at the ice cream parlor, she couldn't help but think on what she thought was the biggest craze at the current time: Robotnik. From what it sounded like, he was the power on the rise, crushing enemy after enemy who got in his way. Who couldn't help but admire someone like that? Most of the fools in Grand Acornia, apparently...to them, he was a security threat, instead of a great and glorious overlord. But, she knew better! He would take them, and make them greater than they had ever imagined. It was only a matter of time!

Suddenly, though, three people came into the parlor. One of them was a coyote, wearing what looked to be an Acorn military uniform. She didn't know much about the others, but, one of them was wearing mobius strip themed clothing, with '8's, or infinity symbols all over, and, the other one was a chipmunk. Did that mean-? Bah, she hated the Acorn royals, always thinking they were the best, and that Robotnik was a menace. And, sure enough, it wasn't long before the three of them were dissing him.

Well, she didn't have to stick around here and take that, did she? Quickly finishing her sherbet, the chinchilla known as Thunderbolt hastily took her leave. Once Robotnik was there, things would be better, she was sure of it.

--------

An hour passed, and the three were doing pretty well! While Twan was just sort of sitting and observing, the princess and the hedgehog were having somekind of conversation. Right now, they seemed to be talking about Sonic's past friends, including two of the male ones that he had previously.

"-And, poor Ray was terrified that entire time! I don't think I'd ever seen him so scared in all the time that I've known him! It took Mighty fifteen minutes just to coax him out of the tree!" Sonic chuckled. "And, all of that because of the biggest hopper you'd ever seen to come out of the pond."

Sally was snrking at first throughout the story, then, after he had finished, it boiled into full blown laughter. "Snrrrrrkk, Y-you know what, I don't think I've ever heard anything quite like that. You have quite the friends, Sonic the Hedgehog."

"Heh, yeah, I know. And, I'm willing to add more to my collection of them too, Princess~"

Sally couldn't help but blush. "Well, that sounds like a pretty good offer. I might have to take you up on it."

"Heh. You know, I really do have the best family and friends. Like my parents, and my bro and sis~"

Sally couldn't help but stare a bit at this revelation. "Really? Because, this is the first time I've heard you mention even having a brother or a sister."

A look of bewilderment crossed Sonic's face. "R-really? I- UGH!" He grunted, as all the '8's on him started to glow, and he seemed to react with great pain.

While Sally looked horrified, Twan regained his stoic composure. "Come," Twan told them. "He is needing somewhere to relax. Perhaps we should be taking a tram to some part of the Green Hill Zone, perhaps far from ze crash landing area?"

Sally nodded, and, they both heaved him up onto their shoulders, and carried him out.

-------

It didn't take too long, before the three of them were sitting on a bench in the Green Hill Zone. Thankfully, the infinity symbols on Sonic had stopped glowing by then.

"Hope you're feeling a bit more relaxed now," Sally said, still looking a bit concerned.

Sonic simply nodded, looking around at the Zone around them, before something seemed to catch his attention. "Awful sharp-looking flowers you've got around here, don't cha think?"

"Hmmm? Oh! Heh, those are to distinguish the Green Hill Zone from its zone of origin, the Emerald Hill Zone, which is in Western Acornia." Sally told him.

Twan was just watching and listening again. Sonic couldn't tell whether he was actually interested in any of this, or just doing his duty as escort.

"Yeah, I mean, that sounds cool," Sonic said to Sally, "but, what about the mountains and the lakes? I mean, aren't those a bit much for one garden zone?"

"Mmmmm, not really. They're here to give it a sense of both peace and grandeur. We have some pretty great equipment we can use, that can sort of just transfer whole areas. Its a testament to what the Peaceful Acornia can achieve, without any feudal politics going on, which is why we have such a centralized government, and most planets have trusted planetary governors."

Sonic just chuckled a bit. "Heh, they would never go for that thing-the government type, I mean-back in Hedgia. Too many nobles, too many powerful and interested parties. Even in the rural areas, its common knowledge that the nobles have waaayyy too much power over things. I bet Robotnik's bribed most of them, probably with benefits, and other things."

Sally blinked a bit. "Is the nobility in Hedgia really that ba-?" Suddenly, however, before she could finish, a bright light enveloped a part of the city, causing her eyes to widen, and her to murmur, 'Daddy...'

Sonic would later find out that it was the Royal Court's council hall that the weird light had enveloped...

------- While things had been going on with the others, the royal council had arrived in the council chambers. Well, arrived, so to speak, in the case of two of them: Sir Charles the Hedgehog, and Ovi Kintobor, royal scientist, were both only there via hologram. Why were they all here? Well, that's what they were there to find out, considering Ovi had been so cryptic when asking them all to come there.

"Sorry, but, I've gathered all of you here today to talk about Robotnik. I believe I've found a solution, to the somewhat imminent invasion."

Nigel hummed in thought. Finally, it was about time. Both him and Charles seemed curious. However, both Naugus and Kodos were acting a bit...Off. He couldn't put it into words, but, there was just something different about them during this meeting. Oh, well, they might just have both been antsy to use their skills to deal with the threat.

Anyway, he nodded at the scientist. "Go on."

"Well, I-"

All of a sudden, however, they felt some sort of impact on the planet, and the alarms started to blare rather loudly, interrupting the doctor.

Ovi looked shocked, as Nigel was. "How this could have happened...?" However, he suddenly started to grin, which Nigel found unnerving this time for some reason. "Oh, that's right!" Suddenly, the hologram of the skinny, tall scientist, started to change that of a similar man, but, a rotund one, wearing a uniform, similar to a GUN uniform, with a stylized admiral's badge, with the top in the shape of his own rounded head, which round spectacles were perched on.

"I made it happen~" Robotnik finished, the hologram of him now standing in Ovi's place.

Nigel and Chuck both stood there, stunned...Before both Kodos and Naugus both started to break out into laughter.

"You really should have thought it more suspicious, how the armada didn't seem to pop up here until just now, 'My Liege'." Kodos said, growling out those last two, before chuckling. "We've been disabling sensors for Central Acornia, left and right, and, yet, you didn't seem to notice, until now. Not only that, but, for soldiers who knew better, and who were loyal to you instead of us, well- I take it 'Sir Charles' knows about his own robot-making tech~"

Chuck look horrified, and for good reason. Nigel couldn't blame him. He himself thought that they had all roboticizer tech under tight supervision. ...And, yet, it was possible that they had gotten such tech with Ovi's help. He had been so sure that Ovi was a good, honest man, that he wouldn't use the authority Nigel had given him for nefarious ends.

"I bet you didn't even know that Ovi was an android," Robotnik exclaimed, pinching his moustache a bit. "I used him to get into the highest levels of power, and, then, when he was in charge of research, he was directed not to do anything to help you in the slightest, dear King Acorn. We've also been using coded transmissions with each other. And, for the last week, I've been controlling him, using him in the talks, fooling you~"

Naugus cackled. "And, to think we've been able to fool you, all this time~"

"Ah, correction, dear Wally," Robotnik interjected with a chuckle. "I'm the one whose fooled you all~"

Now it seemed like it was Kodos and Naugus turn to be confused and shocked, which they seemed to be.

"Sadly, I no longer need either of you. But, instead of killing you, I'm going to send you, with your king, to a dimension where you will likely not be heard from again."

Kodos, fuming, roared in pure outrage. "You won't get away with this!" He quickly ran over to a nearby window, and opened it. Was he under the impression that he could survive the fall? Didn't matter, apparently, since what was a laser shot hit the outside of the wall, and Kodos withdrew back in.

"Ah, ah, ah, don't even try it. I have Sniper SWATbots surrounding the entire building. But, don't worry, its been tested. And, who knows maybe you'll see the Hedgian queens as well." A dark chuckle from the uniformed figure. "They are the ones I tested it on, after all~"

Finally, Nigel could bare it no longer. Fuming, he pointed a finger right at Robotnik’s hologram. "You scum! You think you can get away with this?! I'll see you imprisoned! There'll be a day when your darkness is finally put out, and, then, you can no longer-!"

However, during this tirade, a giant green beam of energy enveloped the council building, sending it and the ones inside it, somewhere unknown...

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

Chuck, who had been in the meeting, quickly exited the workshop's holoroom, and ran over to Tails and Rotor. "We have to leave, now!"

Rotor sighed. "In a minute! Can't you see the turrets need more work?"

"We don't have more time, Rotor! We'll have to do what we can! Ben, Tails, hurry up!"

The two of them nodded, and Rotor grumbled begrudgingly, but all four of them went inside the ship. Once the hangar doors were open, the Starblazer took off, beginning its voyage.

#Sonic fanfic #Sonic fanfiction #Mobius loop #sonic the hedgehog #sonic au #Sally Acorn #Nigel Acorn #Walter Naugus #Naugus #Kodos #Ovi Kintobor #Antoine D'Coolette #Uncle Chuck #Rotor the Walrus #miles tails prower #Ben Muttski #Ivo Robotnik #Thunderbolt the Chinchilla

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urbanseeress · 4 years ago

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𝙷𝙴𝙻: 𝙽𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝙶𝚘𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑.

WHO IS HEL?

Hel (or Hela) is the daughter of Loki, the trickster god and the Jötunn Angrboda and sister to the monstrous wolf Fenrir and the Midgard serpent, Jormunganr. Appearance-wise, she is “half living”; where half her body is described as being heart-achingly beautiful, and “half dead”, where the other half of her body is described as the pale flesh of death and the rotting flesh that comes after.

Odin, the All-Father and ruler of Asgard, sent Hel to the realm of Helheim where she was to rule over the souls of those who had died a “dishonourable death” - this refers to the death of those who did not die in battle but have died of natural causes, sickness, old age etc. This gives her titles such as Goddess of Death, Goddess of the Underworld etc. (NOTE: Those who die in battle do not directly go to Óðinn. Freyja gets the first pick of warriors and those she chooses go to Fólkvangr, only then does Óðinn get to choose his warriors for the Valho̧ll from those who remain).

ASSOCIATIONS:

SOLAR SYSTEM: Pluto

ZODIAC: Scorpio

MOON PHASE: Dark Moon, New Moon

CELEBRATIONS: Samhain, Yule

COLOUR: Black

NUMBER: 9

RUNE: Hagalaz

HERB: Mugwort, Wormwood, Cedar, Rue, Mullein and Plantain

INCENSE: Myrrh, Storax, Jasmine, Sage

TREES: Ash, Beech, Elder, Elm, Holly, Juniper, Willow and Yew

CRYSTALS: Black Tourmaline, Black Obsidian, Black Onyx, Apache Tear, Black Moonstone

ANIMAL: Wolf

ISSUES, INTENTIONS AND POWERS: The Afterlife, Battle/War, Darkness, Death, The Otherworld/Underworld, Shadow Work, Necromancy

HONOURING HEL:

The various ways I honour Hel:

I built Hel an altar that consisted of a statue of Hel, black candles, black crystals (See above in “Associations”) and a black altar cloth.

Make offerings to Hel – she tends to like coffee and dark chocolate, but I also burn incense on the altar for her. I also light a plain black candle dedicated to Hel.

Hel’s Incense – See above in “Associations”.

I meditate on the Hagalaz rune.

I say prayers in her name to my loved ones that have passed away.

I leave offerings for my loved ones who have passed away, this is mostly a candle, incense, a small dish of their favourite food.

Clearing up the graves of the dead whenever I walk pass and see rubbish left around it or fix any flowers or wreathes that might have fallen over.

Doing anything creative for her is something that she loves. I made a gemstone bracelet to represent her so that I can wear it everywhere I go and connect with her even more. The bracelet is made of Black Onyx beads, Skull beads and the Halagaz rune bead; all these things are associated with Hel.

CONNECTING TO HEL:

How I connect to Hel is by taking a walk through a cemetery where I can really contemplate on Death and connect with the energies of the dead around me. I also do meditations in the cemetery to tap into the death current. Whatever I hear, feel, smell and think of during my walk (or during my cemetery meditations) I always write down in my journal.

Sometimes I call upon her with a simple invocation before asking her directly for guidance. I use Tarot Cards to communicate with her following an invocation or sometimes I just meditate on the spot and wait for any images or sounds to appear in my mind’s eye that could potentially be a message from her.

I play dark, tragic and brooding instrumental music out loud, which helps me relax and contemplate on a lot of things. I also listen to a lot of Viking-inspired music to help me connect to her. I also read a lot of gothic literature, which inspires feelings of grief and longing as a healthy way to let all those feelings out, Edgar Allen Poe’s poetry is one of my personal favourites to read out loud for Hel and I to enjoy together.

MY MEDITATION – ENCOUNTERING HEL:

The first time Hel appeared to me was when I was simply daydreaming, I heard faint whispers of “Hela… Hela… Hela…” in my mind. Before this happened, my mind was completely blank and this was at nighttime as I laid in bed. I thought that this was very random, but nevertheless, I understood these words and felt inclined to close my eyes and meditate in case there was a message for me.

Hel was very unfamiliar to me and to be fair, I am still getting to know her to this day. Deities are very complex with their many different layers, personas, and energies. In general, if I ever feel like a deity is reaching out to me, I focus on the energies I feel from them and meditate on it. Doing so helps me get a “feel” of them, their energies, their intentions, their story. I tend not to look them up because I always want to feel their raw, unfamiliar energies personally and not let their mythology affect the way I sense or view them. I then take note of it in a journal and then proceed to read about them afterwards to see if my interpretation of the deity matches that written in the literature. I always believed in trusting my intuition.

In this meditation, I found myself being transported into what looked like the inside of a cave, however, part of me felt like this was no ordinary cave because it was not completely dark and obscure like caves would usually be without a torch to light the way. This cave in my vision had a pale light blue light seeping through from somewhere. I also noted there were white/pale blue crystals around me among the rocks that made up the cave’s walls.

In the cave, a child approached me. She had long silvery-white hair and pale white skin and icy blue eyes. I also noticed she was wearing a grey torn-up viking dress that was up to her ankles and that was also covered in dirt (perhaps she had been in this cave for a while trying to find her way out of it). She did not seem like she was afraid or lost, in fact, she was quite the opposite. She saw me, playfully touched my hand, smiled and giggled and happily ran away.

Not long after, a woman appeared in the direction the little girl ran off to. She had long raven black hair and was wearing a long, black dress. Her appearance reminded me of a crow.

She just stood there and stared at me, studying me. We stared at each other without saying a word to one another for a while. Later, the little girl I saw later reappeared and joined the woman. Were they mother and child? I had no idea, but they most certainly knew one another and seemed very close. They held hands and suddenly, a flash of light appeared above them and then they disappeared…

Standing in the spot they were standing was another woman with her back turned towards me and partly covered in the shadow of the cave although part of her was also under the pale blue light of it. She slowly turned around to face me. As she turned, I saw from the light that she was indeed very beautiful. Youthful, glowing and with an air of mystery around her but I could not help but feel a sense of brooding and grief in the air too. I could not tell if she was smiling or not for she also looked as if she was pained and in sincere regret. When she finally turned to face me completely, that was when I realised half of her face was disfigured.

It was not just her face, the other half of her body that now revealed itself from the shadows as she stepped forward, half of her body was either rotten or in the process of rotting away. I admit that this image frightened me, and I felt my heart beating and I also felt myself going into fight or flight mode. However, I could not move and stayed rooted on the spot, just staring at her. I could not scream but I know my jaw hit the floor at this point, to be in shock is a complete understatement.

This was Her, this was Hel and I was in Helheim. I probably should not have come here.

I stood there as she limped over to me, she was limping because she was trying to drag her “dead half” with her. The dead half of her was completely limp. I noticed the half of her that is “alive” is also had toned arms and legs and has somewhat of a four-pack, possibly from dragging that “dead weight” for so long. She took my hands in hers; one of her hands was pale but felt very warm, I even felt a pulse from it, a sign of life. The other hand, rotten, decayed, skeletal but still covered in strips of tissue felt cold and dry, and majority was bone, it made me flinch. I also noted the smell of rotting flesh and perfume (I assume is what her live half was wearing at the time) as she stood in front of me.

I finally had the courage to look up at her, into her eyes. One eye was a beautiful sapphire blue, while the other eye was blind, white and lifeless and barely hanging on in its socket as there was no eye lid to support it. I tried to ignore all that and she smiled at me. Her lip curled into a small smile, whereas the skeletal half of her face already looked like she was smiling since all I could see were her exposed teeth. The image of Hel then faded, and I slowly came to, back to the mundane world.

I am still in the process of interpreting this message but I believe the main thing that Hel tried to convey to me was DUALITY. Half beautiful, half rotten and decay. Half alive, half dead. Woman and child. Black and White. Shadow and Light.

HEL IN MY LIFE:

Whenever I think of, work with and connect to Hel, I have always felt a sense of brooding and grief, darkness and mystery, there are also times when I feel fear. She is most certainly a compassionate deity when she wants to be, but most of the time, she is detached, cold, stoic and does not really take sides. She also does not mind what you do in your craft or in your life. She basically gives off the impression of, “You do YOU as long as you do not impede on others.”

She prefers to not interfere with anything and would rather watch you. I always feel like she has her eyes on me, watching every move and decision I make, wondering what will happen next. She sometimes expresses curiosity and fascination with me; I interpret this as even though she is a Death goddess, she still likes to be involved in the lives of her children where she can watch them live in the way they want until they pass away from this world and she welcomes them into her realm with open arms.

I never really got over the fear I feel sometimes when I connect with her, but then again, I believe that was her intention. The whole point is to feel uncomfortable and never get used to this feeling. I remember sincerely apologising to Hel later for reacting so negatively towards her, but she told me that she took no offense and that it is a good thing that I reacted in the way that I did towards her.

She wants to constantly remind me of how I feel whenever I encounter a shadow of mine. This fear is a projection onto her. It is almost as if she is a mirror image of all the “bad” and “evil” things of myself that scare me, make me uncomfortable and make me want to run away from. Since she constantly pulls out the shadows from within me to make me feel extremely uncomfortable and makes me face them, I ended up doing Shadow Work with her as my guide. She always asks me, “Are you truly afraid of me or of the things I remind you of when you look at me?”

She is aware that half of her body is Death itself, but it never bothers her. Even though she literally must drag the other half of her body along with her wherever she goes (literally the dead weight of herself), she acts like she had gotten used to it over time and does not let it stop her from doing what needs to be done. The fact that physically, she gained muscle from dragging her dead half around for so long indicates that she gained strength from her ordeal.

I see Hel and see that this dead side of herself is like her very own personal shadow, except that, she is at peace with it and living in harmony with this side of her. She is an example of someone who had integrated their shadow into their life and has reached the point where she no longer needs “Shadow Work”. Only a deity is capable of this because to me, Shadow Work lasts a lifetime. As you grow older, the more Shadows form.

I admire her so much and this is why she is my role model. I strive to become like Hel and so I have dedicated my entire life to Shadow Work with her. I believe that I too can live in harmony and be at peace with the parts of me that I tried to cast away. I want to unapologetically bare my real self and feel nothing but pride. I want to uncensor my own ugliness.

Hel also eased my fear of death and completely changed my perspective on it. I view death as an end to something and the beginning of something new. I view death as a transition. Death also leads to rebirth. It is very hard and painful to let go of things sometimes, but it is necessary in order for you to move forward with your life. You come out of that situation stronger.

I used to be so afraid of the idea of dying and leaving behind all my loved ones. I also struggled with the death of loved ones, losing my Father was the one that hurt me the most. When he left, I felt a part of me die with him. I remember it took a very long time to heal and move on with my life. I was trapped in never-ending grief and was consumed with so many negative emotions like guilt, pain, rage.

What I felt is indescribable, but I remember telling my therapist that “Losing Dad felt like there was a hole in me that can never be filled by anything or anyone and I had to learn how to live with a part of me gone, but at the same time I somehow still felt severely depressed. It is not normal, it did not feel normal, nor did it feel right. I felt so numb and so empty yet despite that a part of me had died along with him, I was still able to feel negative emotions that reminded me that I was still alive.” Thinking back to that moment, it feels like Hel was with me all along, but I never realised until much later, she was there especially during those times where I felt, “half dead and half alive”.

Nowadays, I have accepted and even embraced death. Hel made sure that I was ready for when that time comes. To live your best life, you must also embrace death. As for the death of my Father, I had finally come to terms with it and vowed to live the best life that I can. I also realised that he is not truly gone because as long as I remember the memories of him, he will live on inside of me.

#norsemythology #norsepaganism #heathenry #shadowwork #witchcraft #death

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 5 years ago

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Witcher Of The Night (Chapter 4.1)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 4

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Seems like a Hirikka wants to be adopted. Thus, it was the Hirikka's presence that made things a lot more complicated for Geralt as he seemed to have a difficult time saying no to those doe eyes that you and the Hirikka had; leaving Jaskier to realize there was seriously something fishy about you and it was not just because of the witcher's frustration for his great abstinence that he badly needed a woman. Hence, there was something more.

Warnings: Fluff and tension from Geralt and Y/N! A tamed Hirikka who wanted to join the fam-bam! The word vagina and smash 😂 curse words and a very dramatic bard! Brief mention of Yoda. 😂 Soft! Geralt! 😍 Y’all can sense how Y/N has a crushie on the witcher. Taking care of an endangered species at home; but will eventually be freed when...it’s time.

Words: 4,100+

A/N: THANK YOU FOR ALL THE UNDYING SUPPORT! It's still full of fun, excitement and development. You'll have a sip of the plot soon enough! Problems will arise soon and I don’t know if you’ll like it? Heehee!

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE!

Disclaimer: PNG's used in edits are not mine even the GIF's too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi. Characters, places and said monsters aren't from moi as well.

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

Some people said that when you're on your way to a journey you never knew about, it would be as difficult as taking a trek up the Mount Everest; saying that the way back home was pretty much effortless because the right path home was already engraved inside your head.

Not for you. You were heaving breaths again as you were not even halfway through the forest till Geralt's house.

Your eyes scanned the whole woods. It was extremely vast, thick and humid. Thoroughly astir with life like you have never seen before. Never, even back in your dimension; in earth to be precised. The forest of Kaedwen was like a fantasy genre game that has came into life and you were completely astounded even though, you were hunched over your knees like a dog panting in heat.

You've heard his horse gallop, wheezing before you as you gave them both a huff of exhaustion; giving Geralt a nasty lour when you've breathed in another deep one. The witcher suddenly jumped off his horse as you carry one with heaving breaths when he'd abruptly called out for you.

"Come," He demanded; standing beside Roach completely poised and with authority. Both hands on his leather belt with those hypnotizing set of peepers fixated on you. His expression lukewarm.

A baffled crease of your forehead coming together as you stood up straight; lips forming a tight thin line full of enervation. You've sauntered to where he is, very languidly and feeling your soles hurt every now and then. With Geralt suddenly conscious of your limping form and the huge cape you were trying to keep away from dirt because you've held the ends of it as you walked through the forest. "Why? Is there something wrong?"

The witcher shell-shockingly tutted when you were at arms reach, shaking his head as he does so. You've felt him take a step closer, towering over you with a stare he could muster that can get your face boiling in twitterpatters.

His palpable warmth was radiating off you quite irresistible. Such a warmth that could want one person to be engulfed in all night against the crisp wind that the kingdom of Kaedwen can offer. A tempting gesture you've wanted to take but had no will to do because it'll be very much strange for a person who'd suddenly appeared out of nowhere and hug the warmth out of him because of the cold wind.

"Turn around," He deeply muttered, slightly leaning his chiseled face down to your side as if to whisper in your ear. You've felt the baffling goosebumps rise your skin; the familiar warmth suddenly itching your face once more like a charger that was about to explode.

Faces close to each other and the vision of him leaning down just to whisper in your ear was enough to make you stammer like a high-school girl again. His Aurum eyes undeniably clearer and different when stared at with only a few inches away. It was giving an effect that makes you question yourself what your name was when you already know what it is, that kind of effect as each day passes.

"Why--why are you so demanding---" you started with a wild stammer. One side of his lips lifting in an inconsiderable amount that got your heart pounding, "Turn. Around." Geralt repeated, very much firmer and clearer with that subtle mischief in his peepers.

The cheeky bastard knew what he was doing.

You've stood your ground. Your eyes narrowing at the Witcher with a tenuous amount of pout because of how he'd gotten out of the ordinary since the moment he'd given you his hooded cloak.

A brief amount of headstrong stares were shared before the other raised his white flag, wanting to roll his eyes at the disobediency. The tall, brooding man sighed exasperatedly before you've felt his gentle fingers hooking your hips and painstakingly turning you around to his satisfaction.

This was the first time he has held you in such way. Your breath hitched and Geralt definitely heard and felt how your body react to his touch. It was like he was injecting a fiery kind of warmth that shoot through your veins when he turned you around.

Your legs were submitting to his demand. He was like your master and you were his puppet that he could play with the strings. Totally controllable with just one whisper.

"A stubborn midget, indeed." He uttered, completely lackadaisical. You bit the insides of your lips in consciousness. Very attentive of his fingers tightly clasping your hips and his warmth radiating from behind.

Geralt couldn't help but get a whiff of that delectable scent you had. The irresistible scent that boils his emotions like fireworks popping in the sky. He deeply sighed, eyes fluttering closed as he breathed. A coherent growl coming out of his chest making you turn your head to the side; wanting to ask what was wrong because he seemed to be having a battle within himself.

His touch was sending you the shudders whenever you were having a date with one of your suitors. These suitors that eventually got tired of courting because of how boring you were in reality. They were just attracted to the outer beauty you had; the adorable expressions you make or a sweet voice that gives them the thrill of having you. But, when they finally had the privilege on seeing the real you; they suddenly stop and find another woman who was worth the courting.

Kind of disheartening but you were used to it. All the damn time. They've called you boring but you've called yourself an idiot for liking them a lot in the end when they were officially pulling away.

Though, with Geralt's touch; there was something different. Something that could get your heart feeling the thrill and comfort you wanted and needed that nobody could ever give and you were beyond dumbstruck because of it.

"Hold on to Roach," the witcher suddenly dictated as you were distracted by those fingers clasping your hips, "What---" you asked out of nowhere, feeling his hold go firm as he pulled you closer to him. The mellowness of your face growing hotter when you've also felt his breath on top of your hair. You were panicking, but in a good; thrilling way.

"---and jump when I carry you," he added with the gruffest tone he could perpetrate. Your hands were quick to grab onto Roach's body when all of a sudden, you've saw an animal sitting on the ground in your peripheral vision; only catching the silhouette of his body.

"Wa-wait," Geralt ceased to carry you onto his horse's back. A curious hum leaving his chest as he haven't carried you midway yet. The sound of feet shifting was heard and you've turned your soles to be met with a brown animal who also had a lanky torso, legs and feet to stand, with arms that had the same structure of a human. Big eyes in the shade of dirty yellow, a stout jaw and nose but with sharp teeth of a wolf.

"Geralt?" the sound of your voice consists of slight fright but also completely fascinated and with utter interest. No words were given to you when you've pointed at the Hirikka who stood on its feet, languidly blinking back at you with those doe eyes, "A walking puppy!"

You've given the Hirikka a toothy grin as you were enchanted by how adorable it is. The animal was beyond out of this world for you as there were no types of animals like it. The Hirikka slanted his head to the side, curiously watching what you were doing as he'd seen you smiling before he languorously tried to smile back but it appears as if he was threatening you and showing its teeth.

The witcher's eyebrows were met with a tight knot; thoroughly judging you from behind. It was the Hirikka he'd given an apple before you even met Cuthbert.

"---Or...It's...It's a walking cat!" you pressed on and pointed at the animal with no idea that it was already a monster standing before you. Your giggle was enough for Geralt to know that you were ecstatic for seeing a Hirikka rather than being scared. He kept silent and continued listening to your rambles, "---A big cat with the ears of Yoda!"

You were about to make a run for it; before Geralt held you in place and tugged you back with his hands still on your hips. Totally unaware that he was still holding you because it felt all natural for him to be touching you like that. Your eyeballs were close to having it pop out when you've felt him keep you rooted in your place as he mindlessly droned, "No, It's a monster. A Hirikka. An endangered one," he paused, feeling you sigh and notice the dejected pout you had because it wasn't just a normal animal but a monster to their world.

The latter was quick to back-paddle; trying to lighten your hopes up, "---But, harmless. Never fear, midget."

Your smile flared up into a grin, all teeth shown at the Hirikka with Geralt's enlightening statement before yanking your head back to meet those gold eyes staring back at you in humdrum. The upper portion of your head; hitting his armored chest with a soft thud. Those peepers of yours overflowing with perversity and a hint of beseeching.

"Geralt?" you beamed wider than ever before; hoping you looked worthy enough for the favor to be accepted.

The witcher dropped his hands to his sides, not even noticing he was holding you longer than he intended to. He crossed his sturdy arms with a look of irritability and refutation from the whole idea. He just knew what you were pointing out as you wanted to hug the Hirikka if he didn't pull you back.

"Can I---"

Geralt sighed a deep one; looking away as he wanted to roll his eyes, "No. Only a demented person will think of having a Hirikka as a pet,"

"I'm not taking him as a pet," you countered and wholly turned your body to give him that puppy eyes of yours, "---I'm befriending the cutie!" with a point of your fingers, the Hirikka smiled another one; entirely benign to even begin with. You've seen the Hirikka blink cutely and wanted to do everything just for Geralt to say yes. If you would be staying in their world, you might as well find something entertaining to get your weariness by taking care of a Hirikka rather than staring at Jaskier who slept all night like a big baby.

"No, you're wanting him to be a pet," Geralt retorted with another sigh of vexation; emphasizing the word 'want'.

Another sally was sent, "You told me it was already endangered," pause. "---The poor little thing needs to be taken care of especially that he's all alone and so hungry. You don't want him dying in starvation, right?"

Geralt groaned to himself, closing his eyes to relax himself from telling you that monsters can't be kept as a pet nor taken care of because they knew how to take care of themselves. Yet, there you are; looking at him like what a Hirikka appeared to be like as you were trying to act pretty cute just to have what you wanted.

"Creatures wandering in our world should be left untouched. Not be taken as a pet," the latter seethed with his jaw clenching when he was met with your twinkling, hopeful eyes.

However, you weren't backing down that easily. "Come on! Even just until I'm here then you can let him go, please? please? please?"

His face was in the correct wrinkle of a wince like he was close to punching a wall. Geralt hardly exhaled and gave you a grimace; a look that could get your knees turn to jelly because of how sexy it looked like. You were definitely out of your mind for finding a scowl attractive from a witcher you hardly knew about.

"Fuck," his cursing seemed to be a definite affirmation for your request and his next words confirmed your hunches, "---Fine!" he gruffly exclaimed.

Thus, you beamed back at the witcher and jumped excitedly, giggling in the process and resisting yourself from hugging him tight, "---Just don't fucking starve the horseshit because you're definitely going to be his next meal,"

Geralt didn't actually mean that because Hirikkas don't eat people. Just plants, fruits and sometimes animals when its that time of the month or a full moon.

Despite of trying to threaten you and having the chance to back out from your wishes, your smile even grew wider if that was even possible; snapping your fingers to tell him that you had something in your weird mind. "I'm naming him Kolby!"

The Witcher's forehead creased more, mouth turning into a frown as he beseeched, "Why?"

"What do you mean why? One deserves a name even a stone!"

He turned his back away from you, shaking his head to open his back that was latched behind his horse, grabbing onto another fruit. It was a plum. He threw the fruit towards the awaiting Hirikka who was now closer within an arms reach and the Hirikka gladly accepted it with a loud wheeze, "I'm not an idiot to be naming a stone, Midget." he gave you the side-eye.

You raised an eyebrow back at him; your smile never seem to be fading since the moment you had with him back in Cuthbert's house, "Says the person who's dressed up in an all-black costume like he was out of an action role playing game,"

"It's an armor," Geralt shut his bag closed, mouth forming a thin line from your naivety and how you weren't taking his world seriously. His voice turned a pitch lower and utmost gravely, "You don't know how this world is filled with beasts, Midget."

He turned his booted heel to see you still smiling back at him. Geralt hummed out of his habit and abruptly pulled you to his solid chest. The uttermost close proximity letting your smile fall from the action. You gaped up at him in question, when he'd given you an answer filled with a touch as he gently held onto your hips and turned you around like you were his stuff toy.

"Now, jump." he rasped. Before you could even comprehend, he'd lifted you with no sweat and you were holding onto Roach's body with all your life. Half of your torso still hanging onto his horse as he haven't lifted you all the way.

"Geralt!" you shrieked, his horse utterly huge for you to jump on by yourself with Roach neighing in the background.

To the witcher's unfortunate position, he was inches away from your clothed bum. His eyes narrowed at what was shown to his face; his nose flared as he stared, turning his head to look away with a displeased hum and seeing the Hirikka judging him from the side.

He glared at the poor harmless monster as it looked like he was judging him for even looking.

They've both stared like they were having a competition before you frustratingly quipped and pulled your whole body to raise your leg to the other but finding that it was quite difficult, "Help me! But, don't touch my ass!"

Geralt gave the Hirikka a death stare before he'd touch your clothed thighs; intentionally avoiding the bare skin of your legs. You could feel him shooting daggers across your back with no reason you'd know and finally had your legs across the other side when he'd pushed you through it. Your face was all red and mellow because of the fact that you've uttered out loud for him to not touch your ass; which was sudden. He wouldn't dare to touch it because who even are you to tell that he wanted to?

Well, you do if it was the other way around. If the bum was....his.

But, he didn't need to know that you lowkey wanted to tap it. The secret should be left alone.

"I-I don't know how to ride a horse," you stumbled over your words from the embarrassment and thought he wouldn't also ride, yet you were surprised when you've felt him grunt from behind; feeling his presence and jumping on his horse as he held onto the halter from behind you.

"Oh," was the only word you could muster as you felt yourself be caged in his brawny arms. Your face started to become beet red as you've realized the meaning of your random thoughts that ran behind your head. Those thoughts that planned to keep you from sleeping all night with the painful reality of not being able to go home yet and probably even the face of a certain witcher that was making the butterflies run wild inside your stomach.

You've finally arrived in their home with Kolby following behind you and Geralt when you were riding his horse.

At the present moment, Kolby was standing before their wooden door. It was Geralt's idea to welcome Ciri and Jaskier for his presence as it would be the best gift for the bard as a token for his benevolence and for keeping their friendship in tact and strong still.

There were padded footsteps behind the door and a booming voice resonating from behind it before the door opened and creaked as Jaskier came into view as he went on and on with his talkative mouth, "Why, Geralt! Have you enjoyed your conquest with Y/N--!!" his words were cut short as he shrieked and jumped on his spot when he was welcomed by a Hirikka that he'd seen before but very much smaller and midget looking.

Jaskier's baby blue eyes were wanting to come out of his eye-sockets as he fell back on his knees. Hastily standing on his feet as Ciri emerged from the kitchen to look at the commotion happening on their doorstep. The bard violently pointed at the Hirikka who stepped foot inside with its doe eyes scanning the whole cavern. "---IT'S ONE OF YOUR FRIENDS AGAIN! I thought he'd already tasted its painful demise from that foolish knight years ago?!"

You and Geralt followed suit after Kolby did; giving Jaskier and Cirilla a guiltless smile while the witcher was smirking behind you; specifically entertained by Jaskier's bolt from the blue.

"What's that creature doing in our home, Geralt?!" the bard jogged away from the harmless monster with a proximate amount of space where as he was already in the far end of their house with that scandalizing frown on his pretty face. You gave the Hirikka a soft pat on the head; automatically leaning closer from your sweet touch and purring in a way he does.

"His name is Kolby!"

To say Jaskier was shocked isn't enough. He was beyond flabbergasted. Extremely floored. "It has a name?!"

The Hirikka's feet was waggling in sheer pleasure; like an animal who loved being pet on the head. Jaskier gave you both a look of pique from how normal it was for you to be petting a Hirikka when a normal person would've stabbed the life out of the monster. "You---You are simply bonkers, Y/N!" he stood rooted on the ground, never paying a chance to get close to the three of you.

Cirilla excitedly strolled to where you were, Her eyes gleaming with pure curiosity and fascination. "What is it?" she'd manage to ask as she stepped in to give you and Geralt a hug for being safe as you've arrived home.

The princess dropped her feeble arms around you and aimed to look at the monster who was shorter than her, studying the monster with a crease of her forehead and noting how adorable its eyes were.

"It's a Hirikka, princess." Geralt dearly answered for you as he gently closed the door behind and stepped inside their home. Cirilla gave him a look before she went on with more queries, "Does it bite?"

The witcher gave her a small beam for reassurance as he shook his head, "Utterly harmless. Just don't starve the poor fella',"

Jaskier gave a glout and inspected the whole scene before him. "Are you perhaps short of a marble?!?!?" the message was sent to you or maybe to Geralt and Ciri as well when he'd gestured with his arms like he was gesturing how long his patience were wearing down for the stuff happening and the changes occurring when you've arrived.

You gave Kolby a short set of your tutting but it was actually for the bard who was judging you from a distance; caressing the Hirikkas head as Ciri wholeheartedly did as well.

"There, there, Kolby. Don't be sad. Jaskier is just mean because he's just sexually frustrated,"

Jaskier was quick to retort, his hands now on his hips as he eyed you who had been downright offended by your opinions, "I AM CERTAINLY NOT!" he bellowed with a huff and a sassy eyebrow raising from your banter. The latter pointed at the witcher behind you who had his smirk raised more than he intended to. Jaskier's vexation towards the Hirikka completely entertaining him that he couldn't help but emit a low chuckle from behind that certainly caught your ear as it was the first time you've heard him laugh. Hence, it was like the angels sung for you, "THE WITCHER BEHIND YOU IS! NOT ME!"

"---Tell me, Geralt," The sonneteer fixated his blue eyes on the man behind you. A frown etched on Jaskier's face, "Were you against this idea that the rat wanted a Hirikka as a pet?!"

Geralt crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at the bard as he thought for a moment before giving him a mocking answer, "At first, yes."

"And now?"

The witcher kept his lips closed, just staring at the bard and trying not to smile back at him from how his mouth went completely ajar from his silence. Jaskier already knew what happened and what his answer is even though his question wasn't verbally answered by the man himself.

He knew Geralt wanted to smash. Maybe because he utmost needed it or not because you were just a woman with a vagina that could give him pleasure. There was something more for his hurried fondness for you. There was something more; deeper, greater and utterly unexplainable. Jaskier knew that the witcher had the hots for you as he was openly accepting what all you wanted and he wasn't just doomed because Ciri already had Geralt wrapped around her own finger with the fact that she was his child of surprise.

But, you weren't any child of surprise nor weren’t you a child. Though, you already had him wrapped around your own fingers by bringing home a Hirikka that he certainly doesn’t do ever in his life.

"---Of course, she'd managed to control your overly deluded fondness for her and used it to her advantage!" It was like he sounded to cry out. You couldn't help but giggle from how he was dramatically crying like a baby as Ciri continued petting the Hirikka for you.

Jaskier exhaled a breath, loud enough for you to hear his denial about the whole Hirikka saving thing. He sent the witcher a glare full of aggravation, "I am utmost disappointed in you, Geralt!" and he shook his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose when he continued to wail like a kid.

"---Please tell me he's not sleeping beside me,"

Geralt hoarsely scoffed as it turned into a smile that appeared faultless. He nodded his head towards the Hirikka who shortly licked Ciri's face as he gestured for the tamed creature, "If I'd choose you between Roach to be noshed for his satiation, you know what my answer would be, bard."

Jaskier groaned to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose tighter and having a mental breakdown for meeting a Hirikka on their doorstep and even getting to live with one when he'd seen his species get killed by a knight and now it was going to sleep where he takes his nap. It was stressing him, everything is.

"Great, utterly great," he muttered with his eyes closed, one last sigh given as a sign of submission for everyone who stood before him.

PLEASE DO GIVE FEEDBACK WHEN YOU HAVE THE TIME, BB’S IF YOU LOVED IT! THANK YOU! LOVE YOU AND STAY SAFE!

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deans-baby-momma · 4 years ago

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Past Haunts- A Revisit

A/N: Let’s take a look inside the Winchester/Quentin household and see how everyone is getting along. Also look for the 2nd author’s note after this story.

It's been six months today. Six months since my daughter and I were getting ready for work and school when a simple knock on the front door changed everything. Changed it all, for the better.

To be able to watch from the sidelines as Whitney got to finally know the man who was her father; to finally experience having a male figure in her life was indescribable.

Those two were like two peas in a pod, though. Similar likes, the same dislikes, an identical warped sense of humor. Once Dean had gotten over- no, that isn't the right wording-since Dean had come to terms with Sam being locked in a cage in Hell, he had jumped right into being a parent, a daddy. And he was killing it!

I hadn't expected to find him in the kitchen every morning, cooking breakfast for us before sending us both off with a kiss and I definitely never dreamed of coming home to a clean house, mowed lawn and that pesky back porch light repaired but during the first whole week of loving with us, Dean had picked up the slack. I was amazed and very grateful.

Dean and I have slept in the same bed every night since his return but have yet to put a label on what we are. Although, Whitney happily tells anyone and everyone that her parents are together, I'm just unsure. And yes, we've had sex but then again what woman in her right mind could look at him, cuddle up to him and NOT want to have sex with him?

He had gotten a job at a local garage after the first month of being 'home' and had quickly impressed the boss with his knowledge of older vehicles. It seemed as though the mechanics nowadays depended on the little computers installed in the newer models to alert them to whatever was wrong, so when older vehicles came across their rack, these young boys were stumped.

During the week after Thanksgiving, the city of Fairfax Indiana got its first snowfall. Everything looked so clean and fresh with the white blanket covering all the blemishes and eyesores around town. And that's the day we found out Dean Winchester doesn't like the cold.

"It's just-" Dean grumbled as he drank his coffee at the head of the table. "-so ridiculous. You have to wear extra layers, watch out for other idiots on the road. Watch where you step. And it's just so cold." He finishes his groaning with a full body shiver.

"Dad you sound like a whiny brat," Whitney banters as she eats her eggs and bacon. "It's wonderful! Everything looks so bright and shiny."

"I need sun and warmth, missy," Dean shoots back with a wink. He suddenly sits up straight and looks at me. "Babe, how many days of school until our little girl is on holiday?"

Whitney hmphs at being called a little girl, even though she knows Dean only does it to get a rise out of her. The smirk on his face tells me that is exactly the response he expected.

"Uh, nine. I think."

"Eight and a half," Whitney corrects me, standing up to take her plate to the sink. "And the half day is going to be mostly watching movies and not much else."

I look at Dean to see his mind whirling. I could tell he was trying to work something out in his head. I raise an eyebrow in question but only get a smile in response. I shake my head at his antics and stand up to go finish getting ready for work.

Christmas in Florida is distinctly opposite of Christmas in the North. For one, there is no snow for the lights to mirror. The lights are pretty but seem so dull without the reflection. And instead of coats and gloves and hats, people are in swimsuits and shorts, tank tops and flip-flops. A total 180 from what I'm used to in mid-December. I ponder the difference between the two as I lounge on the long beach chair beside Dean's as we watch Whitney frolic in the cool water.

Dean hasn't fully embraced the warmer temperatures as he is still in jeans and his usually two-shirt ensemble. The only thing missing is the heavy work boots he usually dons; his feet are bare. The sunglasses on his face does little to hide the freckles that have made an appearance the darker his skin tans. I've laid in bed recently, counting the cute little misshapen dots. He is all smiles and happy. I love him so much!

When Dean had first suggested taking a trip down south for Christmas break I was astonished, Whitney was ecstatic. In her 13 year existence, this is the first full-fledged vacation we have ever taken so she was excited and enthusiastic about the chance to take a trip. And when she found out the destination, I didn't think she would survive the 17-hour trip without spending the whole time exploding with glee. Whitney and I spent my whole payday on a new wardrobe for the both of us, getting weird and bizarre looks from other shoppers as we tried to find t-shirts and shorts, bathing suits and sunscreen; during December in Indiana those items were few and far between. I also took a secret trip to the courthouse, getting the paperwork to officially make Whitney a Winchester. All it needs is information and signatures from both parents. I plan to surprise Dean with them Christmas morning.

So far, this vacation has been fantastic. We have spent time as a family doing little things, like walking along the beach at sunset searching for seashells, playing mini-golf, spending the day in our hotel room watching old movies and cartoons when the weather took a turn for the worse. It has been a dream come true, something I had never in a million years thought would ever happen.

Spending time with him and our daughter in what I dubbed as the most magical place on Earth. So what if we're not at Disney World, to me this is the most fascinating time and place; a week spent with my daughter and her father, the love of my life. Life couldn't get any better than this.

I am shaken from my daydreams as I hear Dean growl and begin throwing fictitious daggers with his eyes in the direction of the pool. I turn my head to see a group of teenage boys all surrounding Whitney, who is all smiles at the attention.

"Calm down honey," I cajole. "We knew this would eventually happen. We can't expect her to be a nun."

"Those boys are too old for her," he defends. "They see an innocent, young girl like her and there's only one thing on their mind." He goes to get up and I reach over to place my hand on his arm, stopping him.

"Give it a minute," I tell him. "I've taught Whitney to take care of herself."

As Dean and I sit there I keep our daughter in my peripheral, just in case one of us needs to step in. Suddenly, Whitney yells out "Jerk!" and slaps the boy who looks to be the protagonist of the crew. I smile as I watch her climb out of the pool and walk toward us. She sits at my feet and wraps her towel around her shoulders.

"You okay darlin'?" her dad asks, his eyes still trained on the gang of boys. They just don't know how many different ways Dean Winchester could murder them and make them all disappear.

"Y-yea," she answers but I can tell she's lying. "They just said some things that weren't nice."

Dean finally turned his eyes toward his daughter, the dangerous glint replaced by concern. "Baby girl, I can go have a talk with them, if you-"

"No Dean!" she says, standing up. "I don't need my father taking up for me. I'm not a baby!" As Whitney storms out of the pool area, Dean looks at me, at a loss.

"What did I do?"

I stand up and wrap the sarong around my bikini-clad body. "Just let me go talk to her, okay?" I have an idea what is going on and I know having her dad there I'd never get Whitney to open up. I lean down and kiss him and head in the direction our daughter had stomped off.

In the room, Whitney has thrown herself across her bed and is crying into the pillow.

"Honey, what's wrong?" I ask gently because if my suspicions were true, anything could cause her to fly off the handle.

"I don't know," she whines. "I was feeling okay and then all of a sudden, it's like my energy zapped. So I was just floating in the pool, hoping the ache would go away and then those boys came up and started talking to me. And I liked it," she explains as she sits up on the bed. "But then Kyle said something about me being pure and innocent when I told them how old I was and I just lost it. And then I jumped down Dad's throat and he probably hates me now!" She begins crying again and I join her on the bed, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and she places her head on my shoulder.

"Oh baby," I console. "I think it's becoming that time. You're getting ready to start your first period."

She jerks her head up and looks at me. "Really?"

"Yea, we need to go get you some pads and Midol. You're going to start bleeding anytime."

"God, did I just ruin our first vacation?"

"No!" I claim. "You didn't ruin vacation at all, baby. Now, let's get cleaned up and run down the street to the store."

"Moooom! I can't leave the room! What if it starts before we get back?" I chuckle at her wide-eyed expression.

"Okay, okay." I reach over and grab my phone texting Dean to come up to the room. I roll my eyes as I remember the discussion he and I had almost 2 years ago. Never in a million years did I think I would actually be asking this of him but I can't leave my baby.

The look on his face was comical as I whispered my request. He looked terrified and afflicted at the thought of having to buy feminine products. I take screenshots of exactly what he needs to buy and send him on his way, but not before he insists that I remember promising him he would never have to do this particular task.

The rest of the vacation goes off without a hitch. Whitney does begin her first period and requests to spend the rest of our time in Florida in the hotel room, only going out to eat. Dean and I trust her enough to leave her in the room while we go out, exploring not only the beach but the little town we are in.

Christmas morning comes and Whitney wakes us up with squeals of delight at the massive amount of presents placed under the decorated fake palm tree in our room.

Dean and I sit on the sofa, drinking coffee and enjoying the look of awe on our daughter's face as she opens her presents. Once finished, she winks at her dad and goes to her bag where she pulls a box from inside. Handing it to him, Whitney steps back as Dean slides off to the floor, getting on one knee.

My hand slaps over my mouth as he clears his throat. I have no idea what he says because my inner voice is chanting 'Oh my god! This can't be happening!' Finally my ears take over and I hear him ask, "Becks, will you marry me?" I nod through the tears and watch as he slips the ring onto my finger. He climbs back onto the couch and wraps his arms around me, only moving one around Whitney when she dog-piles on top of us in excitement.

None of us know though, that when we return to Indiana the past is going to come back to haunt us, in the form of Sam Winchester back from Hell.

A/N2: Another announcement! Another story! Remember how I promised a sequel to this story? A look into the years these two spent apart? Well I began it and then life happened (along with a stroke) so I just now am finishing it up. Look for Wounded Hearts to begin in March!!! I’m excited to share it with you. I will keep those of you that were on the PH taglist unless you tell me different. Love to you all.

@vickiq9761 @81mysteriouslyme @travelingriversideblues-x @akshi8278 @keymology @hoboal87 @squirrelnotsam @spnbaby-67 @sandlee44 @natura1phenomenon @drakelover78 @lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @larajadeschmidt13 @tftumblin @blacktithe7 @lilulo-12 @adoptdontshoppets @cpag7 @markofdean79 @supraveng @deanwanddamons @mogaruke @death-unbecomes-you @vicariouslythruspn @atc74 @delightfullykrispypeach @sea040561

#past haunts #dean winchester #rebecca quentin #whitney quentin winchester #dean x rebecca #a look inside #a sequel is coming #wounded hearts #stay tuned #After School Special #season4 #episode 13 #spn 4x13

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gazingupatthemoon · 4 years ago

Text

What Is Infinite (2/?)

Found here at ff.net or A03

Summary: It was meant to be just the two of them. But immorality comes with it's own surprises, and Aleksander must bow to the whims of his stubborn wife. Even if it means becoming a father.(Aleksander and Alina, after years and years, are the rulers of Ravka and have a son and daughter. Angst is sure to follow)

Rating: M

Notes: Because I am weak for stories of Alina getting pregnant and bolting afraid of Aleksander's response. But eventually she comes back, and everyone has to deal with being a big immortal and sometimes happy family.

*~*~~*~*~*~*

Mila twirls a lock of black her idly between her fingers, finding it more fascinating at the moment than the droning of her teacher.

Her brother, to be more specific.

Of course she loves Adrik, but she really does not love history lessons. She finds learning to use her powers much more engaging, as well as exercising her body and fighting skills. Maybe if Adirk focused more on Grisha history and not so much everything else, he’d hold her interest more. Papa had smiled at this particular complaint, showing in that non-verbal way of his he agreed, but then pointed out she was the Princess of Ravka, it was important for her to be educated as much as possible.

“Remember,” Adrik suddenly says a bit more loudly. Mila blinks her way back into the classroom, and sees that he is giving her that look. “Your paper is due next week. Please continue to work on it and not leave it to the last moment. Class dismissed.”

Everyone begins to leave, but Mila stays put, knowing Adrik was not dismissing her. She waves at her friends who hover at the doorway, and then with a sigh begins to gather her own books.

“Mila-”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t get a good sleep last night. That’s why I wasn’t focusing.” The lie comes easily, and without any prior preparation in her head.

Adrik crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re very good at lying, mladshaya sestra, but it’s pointless when it comes to our family.”

A very unfortunate truth. The Morozovas could charm the whole country into believing any falsehood, but when it came to each other it was blunt honesty or nothing. Mila huffs. “So, what? Am I in trouble?”

Adrik’s eyes narrow. “Maybe if this was the first time but you’re always giving the bare minimum amount of effort in this class. You don’t do the assignments, you openly mock the class in general.”

“It’s just boring history-”

“It’s important,” He interrupts. “If you ever want to rule on day you have to know our world’s story and learn from it. To not repeat mistakes of the past.”

A humorless laugh bursts from Mila’s lips. “That’s funny. You know I’m never going to sit on that throne.”

Adrik resists the urge to pinch his nose. At fourteen, Mila is the pure definition of a bratty teenager. Being a princess just adds to that attitude. She always did as she wished, and didn’t care who it offended. Even with their parents she was beginning to toe the line a bit too much. But with him, she had forgone all sense of discretion. They were at odds with each other way too much, not even over her studies. It could be about decorum at public events, the way she talked down to other people, or how she too liberally used her Summoning.

(Adrik is always aware of her Summoning. Always).

Even now he could see a faint shine on his sister’s fingers.

“Calm down,” He says with a tone that nearly mirrors their father. He looks pointedly at her hands.

But Mila is not to be perturbed. If anything, her hands grow even brighter at the command.

She may be a prodigy when it came to her Summoning, but Mila was still a child. And Adirk has both years and experience on her. His fingers do the quickest twitch before shadows swallow her hands and extinguish the light there with a meaningful show of force. He pushes down on them, to the point where Mila’s body even lurches forward.

“Adrik!” She gasps, both in surprise and indignation.

But he doesn’t show her any repentance. “Do not threaten me in that way. Ever.” Adirk isn’t like this. He knows he’s not. This cold, authoritative figure is his father, not him. But Mila isn’t giving him any choice. Part of him blames their parents. He’s seen them use their Summoning on each other an inappropriate amount of times, so something in Mila’s head must had deemed it acceptable to do herself. But Alina and Aleksander have a history that Mila isn’t exactly privy to yet, and a relationship that is a far cry from “healthy”.

Adrik wasn’t sure how to make her understand that yet, though.

Feeling his own anger begin to rise, Adrik turns his back to the fuming girl and takes in a shuddering breath. “Go on to your next class. We can talk about this later.”

What left there was to talk about, he isn’t sure. Mila was either going to try or she wasn’t. And he was sure this little battle of power between them would make her all the more difficult.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Aleksander flicks through papers on the latest yields in the eastern fields when Alina enters their chambers.

Her face is tight, and her eyes looking at him in a way that already has a headache forming in under his temples.

“Yes, love?” He inquires, pausing his reading. She’d only get all the more angry if he gave her half of his attention.

“Your daughter,” Alina unhelpfully supplies.

His daughter, of course, whenever Mila did something troublesome. Which she seems to be doing at increasingly alarming rate now a days. Aleksander has to admit, he is finding himself at a loss of how to handle her. He’s never raised a child before, never expected to, so it’s a skill he never bothered giving any care to. Even the Grisha children in the Little Palace received minimal interaction with him, just the very in frequent visit during lessons or a Grisha empowered speech now and then. Any unruliness was dealt with by their instructors.

Aleksander could command soldiers, but his daughter was something else entirely.

“Alina, we’ve talked about this. I can’t keep her on a leash every day to keep her out of trouble.”

“It’s because you’re so hands off that she’s acting like this,” Alina argues. “She knows she can get away this nonsense.”

“Admitting you have no control over her, then?” Aleksander shoots back, knowing the comment to be wholly unhelpful.

Alina seethes but dutifully chooses to not go down that route with him. “She skipped her classes today to go into town with her friends.”

Aleksander pauses at that. Of course, Mila shouldn’t be skipping lessons, but to do that and make it worse by risking her safety in town? That was another level of idiotic and unacceptable.

And he most certainly has a headache now.

“I’ll talk to her.”

“It has to be more than that.”

“Then what do you suggest, Alina? Should we reconsider the leash idea? If you recall your first days here, I wasn’t too adept at keeping you under my thumb either.”

The admission just embroils the conversation. “Yes, how is it that you manipulating and lying to me didn’t work? Such a mystery after all these years.”

Aleksander flings the papers in his hand onto the table and falls back in his seat. “If you’re just here to argue with me, could we schedule it for another time where I can properly give you my attention?”

“I’m here to discuss our daughter who is going down a very reckless path.”

“She’s a child, a teenager, they all act out.”

“She is a Princess of Ravka and our daughter. She is not just any child.”

Alina has a point there, and Aleksander’s silence only verifies it.

“Adrik is concerned as well,” Alina continues, her voice going lower with the weight of the conversation. “He says things have grown tense between them.”

“Because Adrik is weary of her and she senses it,” Aleksander states. “You don’t do too well of hiding it from time to time, either.”

Alina balks at that. “I’m not weary of her…I’m concerned.”

“I’m sure there is little difference between the two in her eyes. Ever since that day, you’ve all treated her as if she could explode at any moment.”

“Your daughter did the Cut at five years old, Aleksander. She doesn’t even remember doing it. She doesn’t remember beheading someone.”

“Something you should be thankful for, then. Better she forgets then have to relive it in her mind for the years to come.”

She throws up her hands in exasperation. “This is never going to get easier if we’re not on the same page.”

“Perhaps you need to be more compromising,” Aleksander suggests with a shrug. “You got greedy raising Adrik all on your own, and now you have to deal with my say when it comes to Mila.”

“And what is your say, moi tsar? A talk every time she steps out of line? That’s your show of great parenting?”

Alina doesn’t wait for a response. She turns and stomps out of the room, her white hair the last thing he sees before the door slams shut. And Aleskander always thought Alina would be the only one that could ever be a true thorn in his side.

He had never hated his immortality so often since becoming a father.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The dinner table is understandably very quiet that night.

The royal family silently stews in their own frustrations, and let nothing but the scrapes of their utensil fill the void.

Adrik heard what Mila had done today, though it hadn’t been him to inform the Queen of her daughter’s disappearance. Adrik tried to never include his parents when it came to squabbles between he and his sister, but this situation had been unavoidable. Even if no one approached Alina with Mila’s offense, Adrik would have.

Now all there is to wait for is her punishment. By the looks on both their parents’ faces, Adrik knew it was going to be bad. But hopefully it would finally knock some sense into Mila, and stop her from continuing this stupidity.

“The trip is Os Kervo is set for next Thursday,” Aleskander announces as their plates begin to thin with food. “Construction on their new port finally ended and they’d be honored by the presence of the royal family to give their blessing to it. It’s been sometime since we have been there as well, they are due to be reminded what their rules look like.”

Alina dabs a napkin at the corner of her mouth. “We all will be going?”

“No,” Aleksander answer promptly. “Just Adrik and I.”

The first strike then.

Adrik glances at Mila to see the fork has paused midway to her mouth. Out of the whole family, Mila loves Os Kervo. She enjoys the sea, the ships, the bustling market, and the generally more pleasant weather it has compared to East Ravka. Whenever a trip was made there, Mila was always brought along. Always.

She lowers her fork slowly, then chances a look at her father.

The Darkling is already staring at her, waiting for some kind of response.

“Is that my punishment, then?” She asks after a beat. Her tone is low, but not as contrite as it should be.

“Punishment for what, moya doch?”

It seems Aleksander is in a mood tonight. He is going to make this difficult for Mila, and not just by simply taking a trip from her. Adrik glances to his mother but she sits there as stone cold as her husband.

Mila hesitates. “I’m sure you know what I did-”

“I asked you a question,” Aleksander interrupts.

Mila’s mouth snaps shut. She breathes in and out of her nose, willing herself to be calm. She could argue with Adrik all she wanted, even her mother to a certain degree, but she knew better then to test her father’s fury. “I didn’t go to my lessons.”

Aleksander continues to stare at her.

“And…I went to town.”

“And was this a smart decision for you to make?”

Saints, she hates when he talks down to her like this. She was young, but not a child, and obviously, she knew what she had done had been wrong. But what choice did she have? How would it have looked to her friends had she told them no, she couldn’t go because it would upset her parents. Obviously, it would upset anyone’s parents, she shouldn’t act special. There were enough jokes at Mila’s expense of being the Princess and gracious allowances she’s given.

Mila should just help this end as soon as possible and yet, as everyone starred at her, she felt the need to defend herself. “It was perfectly safe. We’re all Grisha. And…I’ve never gone to town with my friends! Whenever I leave this place its only with one of you. How do you think that looks?”

“If you think I’m interested in the opinion of your friends, you are sorely mistaken,” Aleksander warns. “There are rules for a reason, Mila. You’re not just any Grisha. You are the Princess and a Sun Summoner. There are bounties on your heard in every single country.”

“I don’t want to be treated differently-”

“But you are different,” Alina choose this moment to interject, her voice a shade lighter than her husband’s. Adrik knows why, though. After learning the truth of who he was, Alina had told him everything of her past. Of how alone and different she felt most her life, both as an orphan and then as the lone Sun Summoner. In this way, she offers her daughter some sympathy. But only in this way. “I understand your need to fit in, Mila, and in some instances, you will, but in others you will not. You cannot.”

The scrap of kindness falls on Mila’s deaf ears. “I should be able to make those decisions myself, not you all.”

“Perhaps if you didn’t act like a spoiled brat, we would consider that.”

Even Adrik flinches at Alesksander’s jab. He so infrequently scolds his daughter that when the occasion does arise, it’s uncomfortable to witness.

It hurts Mila deeper than she cares to admit hearing her father call her that. The rational thing to do would be to should shut up and apologize, before it got worse, but now not only is she hurt, but embarrassed. “You’d never let me do what I want no matter how I acted!” She exclaims hotly. “You control everyone and everything!”

“Mila,” Alina warns.

“You know he does! He even controls you! And you-you let him get away with it!”

Adrik notices the shadows of the room begin to blacken and crawl towards the ceiling. Even the floor begins to grow into a black pool. “That’s enough, Mila,” He hisses, and goes to reach for her hand now trembling with paleness as it grips the edge of the table.

But she’s too far gone now to be reined in. “I can take care of myself,” She continues. “Someone did grab me in town, you know! Right in the marketplace and tried to drag me into some alley. And I took care of it. I protected myself. I am capable-”

The room explodes with shadows. So many, so quickly, that it’s like a tornado that flings everything off the table and onto the floor. Glass shatters, food and liquid audibly splatter, and even the chairs squeak with movement. Adrik instinctively calls upon his own Summoning to ground himself down, and almost reaches out to do the same for Mila when a force stronger than his own blocks him.

Just as quickly as it begins, it ends. The storm of darkness recedes into nothingness, leaving in it’s a wake a destroyed dining room and a family cursed with too much power.

Mila looks irrevocably stricken, clinging to the arms of her chair with her eyes squeezed shut. Adrik isn’t sure what he looks like, surprised, maybe, that his father went so far but also a part of him knowing that of course Aleksander is capable of this. This and much, much worse.

Alina looks sadly at her daughter’s trembling form. She feels the heat of Aleksander’s rage next to her, knows that display of power he just showed may have been on the side of unnecessary, but she had wanted him to do more. She supposes at this point in life she should know Aleksander would appease her but only in his way.

But that right now is not important.

“What do you mean you handled it?” Alina asks very quietly.

Mila is still trembling but opens her eyes. Grey, like her father, but Alina has never seen such fear there. “W-What?”

“You heard your mother,” Aleksander snarls.

Mila flinches into her seat. “I-I Summoned and made him let me go.”

“How did you Summon?”

Mila looks between her parents, and then to Adrik as if he somehow could save her from the awful mess she has created. But now there is fear on his face as well. Not of what just happened. But of her.

But she can’t see the horrid memories replaying in his head. Of another time when a man grabbed Mila. Of when instinct, not rational, kicked in, and awful mistakes were made. Adrik failed his sister then, and he can’t help but feel he’s done the same now.

“I used the Cut.”

Again, there’s Dimitri’s body falling to the floor.

Again, there the unexpected show of light.

The suspended moment in time when it slid across the man’s neck, as smooth as water.

Alina wants to be as broken as Adirk in this moment, but she can’t. She has to be a mother now. She has to handle this. “Did you kill him, Mila?”

The younger girl looks confused at the question. Of what exactly, Alina is not sure. When she doesn’t answer right away, she practically feels Aleksander about to unleash another verbal lashing. “Mila, did you kill him?” Alina prompts again before he gets the chance to.

“I…I don’t know. I did it and ran.”

And yet again, Mila comes out the situation with little recognition of what’s she done.

Adrik wonders if a dead body will turn up soon from the streets of their kingdom.

Alina closes her eyes, as if that would make this all go away.

“You’re not to leave the castle,” Aleksander begins. No arguments. No explanations. The time has passed for that. “You will take your lessons privately here. You, who have been blessed with so much, to squander it so. You want to be in charge of your life and yet you use your power so carelessly and don’t even know if you killed a man or not. Is that what Ravka will say of their Princess? That she is a fool who murders without thought?”

She doesn’t even know, Adrik thinks miserably. She doesn’t even know she’s already become that.

“You will embarrass this family no more. If you step out of line one more time, I will ship you to the Winter Palace and leave you there till you learn your place. And do not that as an idle threat. Me not seeing your face for the next fifty years means as little to me as if it was a mere day.”

A tear leaks out of Mila’s eyes at his words. At the truth her father has revealed and struck at her like a slap in the face.

“Now get out.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Adrik fiddles with the pocket watch his father had gifted him for his 21st birthday. The first gift he ever received from the man. It wasn’t new, but instead an antique that had been owned by some old King of Ravka.

(Adrik has been simultaneously pleased and resentful that Aleksander somehow knew he’d prefer this piece of history than a fancy new one).

The carriage jolts as it passes over a bump, making Adrik start. He looks across him to see Aleksander starring at the window, hands folded neatly on his lap.

They’ve been riding for a couple hours now, heading to Os Kervo.

It’s been a week since that disaster of a dinner. A week of Mila being a ghost, only appearing for dinners which her mother would not relent on her being absent for. But she only spoke when asked a question, and kept her eyes on her plate or lap. Adrik had seen her more, as per her private lessons, and her mother had attempted some one-on-one conversations.

Aleksander hadn’t sought her out once.

“How is Mila doing?” He asks, as if sensing where his mind has wandered to.

“Fine,” Adrik answers honestly. It’s the only word to describe her really. Despite her silence, Mila hasn’t shown any concerning behavior. She’s paying attention to her lessons, which is an improvement, and hasn’t unleashed any of her usual attitude.

“Did you believe I was harsh on her?”

Adrik is surprised by the question. Their relationship has certainly improved over the years, but there were still some lines drawn in the sand between them. One being that his father never usually asked him his opinion on decisions he’s made. The Darkling was not one to be questioned, let alone invite criticism. No, if this ever happened, it was surely a test of some sort. This might very well be one, for all Adrik knew.

“I think something had to be done,” He answers carefully, wondering was going on in the King’s head. His gaze still remained pointed out the window.

“And what I did?”

Adrik has went over the dinner many times in his head this past week. What went wrong, where it could have been stopped. How out of control everything became with those choice words. It wasn’t so much the punishment Adrik disagreed with. Confined to the castle was the least that could have been done considering what Mila is guilty of. What he had only ever questioned was how it happened that night, the words and actions taken to come to that conclusion. And the way Aleksander had broken a part of Mila’s heart with his other very real threat.

He wonders if Alina said something to prompt this. He wonders if he should even continue it. But then he remembers his sister’s face, can’t help but feel-know-that Mila is not an evil being. She’s just a young girl, confused over who she is and her place in this world. “You forget we are not as old as you and Mama,” Adrik begins calmly. No need for Aleksander to misunderstand him when they were going on a trip alone together for the foreseeable future. “That we’re still….more human, than immortal. Mila deserved to be punished but for you to tell her not seeing her for fifty years means little to nothing to you and that you would actually send her away for that time, it was cruel.”

Aleksander processes this with silence. Then he angles his head towards his son, considering him.

“You grew up not knowing what you are. She did. She can’t be afforded the time or patience you were.”

“He’s usually always insufferably right,” Alina had told him once of his father. “But where he lacks is the humanity that tells him even though something is true, doesn’t not mean it is good.”

Adrik is a grown man now, not the child that had been both afraid and hateful of the man who gave him life. A part of him hesitates to be honest with him, old habits and all, but if Aleksander wanted his opinion then he would give it. “She is a fourteen-year-old girl whose father told her his love for her is conditional. There are other ways to teach her of immortality.”

Aleksander again grows quiet.

“And…” Adrik licks at his lips. “She grew up with your love, I did not. You hurt her in a way you couldn’t do to me. I was prepared for your coldness, she wasn’t.”

A shadow flickers in an on the floor between them. A shadow of a passing tree? A Summoned one?

“You believe my love for her is conditional?”

Adrik flexes his fingers. He really doesn’t want to engage in this line of questioning. He did not want to guess his father’s feelings, on whether they existed or were genuine. He didn’t want to examine his and Mila’s relationship when his own was so pitiful in comparison. Adrik believed for so long he didn’t need his father’s affection. But not that he’s had a taste for it, that unfair resentment the never seemed to shake towards Mila’s dug a little deeper.

Feeling again like the lonely teenage boy brought to the palace as a prince who did not have the king’s love, he answers noncommittally. “I don’t know. You certainly care for her.”

“It is hard, at my age, to truly love things. Knowing they will not last.”

“But she will,” Adrik points out.

“Perhaps I have to grow used to her, the way I did you.”

That shocks Adrik into silence. It’s not exactly a “I love you” but its damn well close in his opinion. Who knew if Aleksander would ever gift him with anything fonder. “And are you? Used to me?” He can’t help but ask. He needs to be sure. He would not get begrudgingly pleased over a game.

Though he doesn’t smile, Aleksander looks amused at the question. “As a horse is to a fly.”

Oh, well…

Was that a joke?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“He hates me,” Mila whispers into her pillow.

Alina hears her all the same and smooths her hair down her back. “He doesn’t.”

“You hate me,” She continues to mumble.

“I don’t.”

Mila lifts her head up a fraction, if only to look at her mother as if she had three heads. “How can you say that with what happened?”

“Mila, you made mistakes, some larger than others, and lashed out as us. It was not going to be a pleasant conversation no matter what happened.”

“He said he’d send me away.”

“I would never let him.”

“But that doesn’t change the fact he would do it if he could.”

Alina blew out a puff of exasperated air. Mila dropped her head back into the pillow, the child she truly was simmering to the surface. Alina tried to recall the time she had been her age. If she had ever been so…lost. But her past is now only made of landmark events in her life, with the little things in between lost to eternity. There was Mal, then the Light, and then Aleksander. So much Aleksander. She had been 17 when she first met him, three years older the Mila now. How mature she had thought she had been. How foolish.

“Your father is going to be the most difficult man you’ll ever meet in your life. He is far from perfect, none of us are. He does not react the way he should sometimes. I should know. He and on were not on the same page as we are now.”

Mila slightly shifts her head, and peeks up at her mother under a curtain of hair. “What do you mean?”

“He hurt me too,” Alina beings carefully. Very carefully. It was her decision to not tell Mila of she and Aleksander’s past till she was older and mature enough to try and understand all the complicated and dark parts of it. Alina only felt more confident in the decision considering Mila’s volatile nature as of late. Aleskadner didn’t seem to mind, not caring if Alina chose to even reveal it at all. “When I was younger, close to your age in fact, he hurt me very deeply, Mila.”

“But…” Mila presses up on her elbows, looking very confused. “Papa loves you more than anything.”

“He does,” Alina agrees, and reaches forward to swipe the hair from her face. “But he didn’t in the beginning. He didn’t for quite some time, actually. And I the same.”

Sometimes she still wonders. Sometimes.

Mila shakes her head. “I don’t understand.”

“I promise, darling, I will tell you the whole story one day. But for now, just know, he may be old but that doesn’t make him always right. Immortality is a very hard burden to bear, especially when you’ve been alone for as long as your father has. It makes him forget how to treat others. Even those he loves.”

Alina can’t help but hope it is enough. What more can she say without explaining the rest of it? It would do no one any good, least of all Mila, to reveal Aleksander’s villainous past now. If anything, it might make this newly formed chasm between she and him worse.

“Mila,” Alina opts to change the course of the conversation before she can dwell on it any further. “What you did to that man, it can’t happen again.”

Her grey eyes blink widely at the switch of topic. “I-he was going to hurt me, Mama.”

“And you must of course defend yourself. But the Cut must be a last resort. It is a technique that’s too powerful, and only meant to kill. That is why our family are the only ones able to do it. There are other ways to protect yourself. Others ways to not kill.”

Mila slowly lowers herself back onto her stomach, but at least does not hide her face this time. “I didn’t mean to…kill him. I just-I got scared. I only ran because I was so afraid, Mama. I didn’t even go back to my friends. I came right back here. I promise.”

Oh, how differently the conversation could have gone the other day had Mila not been so full of pride and hurt. And how much of a relief it is to hear Mila’s pained confession. She’d been consumed all week with dark thoughts that Mila was becoming callous with her skills and drunk off the power of her immortality and Sun Summoning. That she was a child given gifts no child should know how to deal with at that age. But no, thank the Saints, Mila was just that. A child who got scared and made a mistake. And all those years ago with Dimitiri, it must have been a mistake. She had been too young, too innocent. She had been hurt and afraid then as well, and saw her brother attacked to top it off.

Mila is being ruled by her emotions and that, Alina can work with.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

In truth, Aleksander didn’t quite like traveling far from home for such ridiculous frivolities as blessing a new port. Pompous, in his opinion. Unnecessary.

But people, bored with their short lives, needed such reprieves. To celebrate innate things as to fill their days with some reason to be happy. To drink, and dance, and enjoy what time they had left.

And the people do need to be reminded who is their ruler every now and then.

Another truth, Aleksander needed the space frim his wife and daughter. How odd, in this whole annoyingly unnecessary mess, Adrik would be his confidant. He’d been the only one not to resent him for his behavior at dinner or feel the need to give him the cold shoulder. Alina had wanted him to act, so he did. It was not his fault if she didn’t like how he did it.

Though Adrik had been honest that day in the carriage, he didn’t use his words like weapons. Not like he or Alina would. No, he had been patient and simply wanted Aleksander to just hear what he had to say. No ulterior motives or desire to harm. It was charming, in a way. He is an adult, technically, but still a child in Aleksander’s eyes. A child who still has delusions of being honest and good.

Despite all that, what Adrik said did hold some weight. Mila didn’t understand yet the burden of who they were yet, and Aleksander…well, perhaps he didn’t know how to properly handle her. The whole mess was reminding him all too much of his past with Alina. How much he failed at trying to connect with her and make her see what their power and immorality meant. Like mother, like daughter indeed.

As the carriage made its way into the courtyard of the Grand Palace, Aleksander twirled around the gift in his hand. A wooden box, thin and long with a necklace of sea glass and pearls inside. It wasn’t a gift, as punished children should not receive gifts, but an olive branch. Not a frivolous purchase but an acquisition that had purpose behind it.

It took years for he and Alina to finally come to peace with each other. He wasn’t in the mindset to allow the same to happen between he and Mila.

Adrik hid a smile as he eyed the gift one last time before hopping out of the carriage. He extended many olive branches with his son this trip as well. Let him closer than Aleksander had originally planned, and gave him kernels of “fatherly” attention much more liberally than either of them were used to.

Perhaps he was feeling lonely without Alina. More disturbed than he’d admit over Mila. Maybe more accepting of the fact Adrik was his son every passing day.

Maybe he was just bored. Who truly knows.

Alina is pulling away from a hug with Adirk when he sees her. White hair long and braided, face still holding onto the youth and beauty well past her true age. She takes his breath away every time he sees her. Every damn time. It’s been almost two weeks, and their goodbye had been less than pleasant. But she turns to him without any ire in her gaze now, and actually smiles.

“My Queen,” He greets, stopping before her.

“My King,” She dutifully replies. They stare at each other, devouring the other’s images with roaming eyes.

Adrik scoffs at the not so subtle standoff, and makes his way into the castle.

Alina dips her head to his hands. “A present for me?”

“Sorry, love, no. But if you are in the mood for one, I’m sure I could find something for you in my luggage. I believe it’s being brought up to our rooms as we speak.”

“Hm,” Alina takes a calculated step forward, brushing a hand against the lapels of his kefta. “Perhaps I could be swayed to go and retrieve it with you. But should I be jealous?”

“Not at all,” he grins, dipping his head down. “But I believe I should take care of this first. Then I shall shower you with gifts all night.”

A smile breaks across her face and she kills the last bit of distance between them with a deep kiss. Aleksander groans against the plunge of Alina’s tongue, and resists slamming her against the side of the carriage and taking her right then and there.

He is very happy two weeks seems to be the time to quell his wife’s anger.

Alina is pulling away all too quickly, and takes swift step backwards as Aleksander reaches to pull her back. “Go attend to your business, my King. I’ll be waiting.”

“Perhaps you’ll actually be there when I come back this time.” A very old, and very bad joke.

Alina rolls her eyes and turns toward the doors. She pauses one last moment, though, and looks at him over her shoulder. “I know what it feels like to have to have a heart broken by you, Aleksander. Please take care with her.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Aleksander give two quick raps to the door of Mila’s quarters.

He knows she will answer, not because she wants to but because duty demands it. He is her father and King, and no doors will ever remain shut to him.

But no, he had to banish such grandiose thoughts right now. He simply needed to be a father, intent on mending a break between he and his daughter. Simple enough.

The door creaked open and Mila peeked her head out, looking as if she had just woken up. Her eyes widen slightly seeing him, and she fumbles to open the door all the way while simultaneously straightening her back.

“I-uh, good morning,” She breathes, patting down her hair and drawing her robe tighter to herself. Perhaps not just waking up then, but getting ready for a bath. “I mean, welcome back.”

Aleksander nods his head in return. “May I come in?”

The request visibly rattles her, as her eyes widen and her teeth bite into her lower lip. She nods jerkily, regardless, and backs into her room. It’s immaculately kept, as usual, as opposed to her brother’s much messier quarters. It’s the reminiscent of the room Alina had first occupied in the Little Palace. Sophisticated furniture fit for a Queen and décor bathed in bright and soft colors. Her pale pink curtains are swaying softly in with the morning breeze, every window wide open to let in the sun.

Mila is attempting to be calm and collected, but her fingers keep fiddling with her robe’s belt and her body bouncing on the heels of her feet. Nervous compulsions that had plagued her when she had been younger. Not at fourteen. Not in front of her father.

And here she was.

Aleksander is leisurely walking around her room, as if he hadn’t been in it for some time. She supposes he hasn’t, even before he had stopped talking to her. During that whole…mess, she had become very private with her space and belongings, and more often than not locked her door then let it hang open.

When he stops to examine the belongings on her vanity, Mila can bear the silence no more. “Was it a good trip?” The question, riddled by her nerves, comes out as a squeak.

Aleksander absently picks up a hair brush. “It served its purpose.”

“Oh,” She doesn’t like this side of her father. Had seen it enough times aimed at member of court, a soldier, even the rare occasion of someone in her family (those interactions always ended bad). When he makes you feel so small, so off kilter, as he saunters around without a care in the world. Like he doesn’t care about you.

The thought makes Mila more sad than nervous now, and the conversation she had with her mother a couple days ago comes back to her. Alina assured her that Aleksander still loved her, that the fault with his emotions lied with him, not her, but it was still hard to believe. As a fourteen-year-old, she shouldn’t have to be the one that sort that out.

She didn’t want to. She just wanted her father to show her he loved her.

“Your lessons?” Aleksander turns toward her, and eyebrows raised.

Mila holds back a frown and even worse, a couple tears, and she looks over his shoulder to a picture of painted flowers, a rose bush with tangled vines crawling up a tree. “Going well. Attending them all and keeping up with my grades.”

He nods his head. “Good to hear.”

Mila keeps starring at the flowers, feeling her cheeks grow hotter and hotter. Oh Saints, she is going to cry. She is. She can’t stand this treatment anymore. Not this cruel casualness. The still ugly truth that he loved her so little that he would send her away.

Why was he here? What did he want? To further rub salt in the wound? She had purposefully not gone to greet him and Adirk upon their return because she figured Aleksander wouldn’t want to see her. He made that plainly clear the week before he left. Why was he torturing her so?

“Oh, moya solnishka,” Fingers tenderly swipe over her cheeks, now sticky with wetness. Mila bleaks blurrily against the tears to look up into her father’s suddenly very close face. His grey eyes are not cold, but soft, simmering with the affection he had always shown her. “No need to cry.”

“I’m sorry, Papa,” Mila sobs and jerks forward, burying her face in his chest. Keftas aren’t exactly known for their comfort, but it smells like her Papa, and it’s warm, so it’s perfect right now. She rubs against the material till it scratches her skin, but she doesn’t care, because Aleksander’s arms are enveloping her in a hug, and his chin comes to rest comfortably atop her head.

“Shh,” He continues to soothe over and over as she cries and cries. His hand beings to rub circles into her back, and for some reason that brings on a new wave of tears. She was wrong, he does care. Of course, he cares. He had been angry, is all, and so had she. They were going to be fine, they were going to be great, it was-oh! Suddenly, a ball of warmth so strong blossoms in her stomach, and unfurls with such a force it takes Mila’s breath away. She feels the heat coming out of every pour in her body, and pulls away enough to see she’s glowing, light pouring out from her skin and cascading the room in striking brightness.

It would blind any other normal human being, but the Darkling gazes at her without the slightest wince.

“There she is,” Aleksander murmurs with a smile. The first smile he’s graced her with one in so long.

Mila can’t help but smile back, feeling so…alive.

But then Aleksander pulls back and her light slowly dims till it is nothing but her bare skin again.

He reaches out to reveal a box in his hand, thin and wooden with simple decorations carved on it. “For you, love.”

Had he not just embraced her, or smiled at her, Mila would have assumed the offering was a trick. A test, of some sort, as her father was so often fond of doing. Starring at the box, Mila knows that if this isn’t just an innocent gesture, she was undoubtedly going to fail. Still, she reaches forward and takes it tentatively form her hands, then undoes the metal clasp with a delicate touch.

Inside is a beautiful necklace, a long, sparkling braided silver chain with pearls and pieces of sea glass interwoven throughout it. It shines at with her every movement and continues to glimmer even as she keeps it completely still. “It’s…beautiful,” Mila whispers, feeling a bit awed by it. She is the Princess of Ravka, she has seen and even worn the most glamorous and beautiful pieces of jewels the world could produce. But this, in her hands, seems the most precious of all. Because it is hers, and no one else’s, not an antique passed down by Queens before. And because her father had given it, had thought of her when he bought it, and delivered it with his own hands.

Another lone tear sneaks down her face.

With his long, elegant fingers, Aleksander plucks the necklace from its cerulean colored cushioning. “As you are, moya doch.” He steps behind her and with a gentle swipe of her hair, begins to clasp it around her neck.

Mila feels the whispers of that powerful light again, but it recedes when her father again steps away.

“I am sorry, Papa-”

“I know. We’ll talk of it no longer. Continue up with your studies here for the month, and then we can discuss you returning to classes.”

There is nothing to do but beam and nod her head enthusiastically in agreement.

“No more leaving the castle grounds, Mila. No more trouble or this rebellious nature anymore. You will act as you were born to be. Princess of Ravka and the daughter of the Shadow and Sun Summoner.”

Darkling and Sankta. Two equals, yet opposite. Constantly pulling towards each other and inevitable pushing away.

What inkling of normalcy did a product of that bond hope to have?

“Yes, Papa, I promise. I’ll be perfect.” Even as the word passes her lips, Alina’s own voice echo’s in her ears: “He is far from perfect, none of us are.” Perhaps she wasn’t, Mila mused, but she would try to be. She would spend the rest of her immortality trying. “And,” She continues, knowing it would be best to completely clear the air out now between them. “About that man. In the marketplace. I am sorry about it, Papa. Really I am. I was talking to Mama about it and…I know it was wrong. I do. I was afraid and didn’t react right. I will not use the Cut again, ever. I promise.”

Mila’s heart drops when Aleksander’s lip tug downward. But why? How had that been the wrong this to say? It had made her mother happy, it had even made her forgive her! Had she forgotten something? Not said sorry enough times?

“Do not make that promise, Mila,” Aleksander states with the finality of his station. “The Cut is our gift, and we do not hide our power from the world.”

“But…but Mama said-”

“Your mother,” He interjects smoothly, “Has some different ideas on the subject, I am aware. What you need to understand, is that your mother has always had a kind heart, and has always wanted to believe in the good in people. Most importantly, herself. And now, her children.”

Though she is following along, Mila can’t help but feel this conversation is too big for her understanding. That her father is trying to tell her something without actually saying. That it’s going against Alina had said, and is making her afraid.

Aleksander cups the bottom of Mila’s chin and angles it up to face him. “She wants many things, your mother. But remember Mila, the problem with wanting is that it makes us weak. And we are not weak, are we?”

Mila stares uncertainly into her father’s eyes, and answers as she knows she should, “No, we are not.”

“That man put his hands on you,” He continues, his gaze never wavering. “You do not apologize for defending yourself.”

But she had killed him, Mila wants to protest. Or at least, maybe she did. Either way, was that not a good thing? Alina had told her there are others way to protect herself. It didn’t have to be the Cut-

Aleksander tuts her chin. “What you need to learn, love, is patience. Precision. The control of your power and having it bend to you, not the other way around. That, we have all the time in the world to learn.”

Mila nods her head, willing to do anything her father wanted of her.

#darklina #the darkling #alina starkov #alarkling #grishaverse #shadow and bone #what is infinite

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