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lune-de-miel-au-paradis · 8 months

Text

The old villa, rain of shooting stars and the old legend

Summary: A little backstory about Nina's secret special place in Naboo. A sweet little memory from her childhood.

Pairing: Darth Maul x OC Nina Cerasus

Warnings: Mention of abandonment, illness, anxiety

AN: This fic means a lot to me and I worked on it a lot. If you have any advice or comments, please share them with me kindly. I'm posting for the first time in years and I don't want nasty comments to discourage me from posting again. If you don't like it, please go to another blog. I did my best to translate it, so pls forgive me, English is not my first language. Please enjoy reading!

previous chapter

Everyone has places in their lives, usually not too far from home, where they find the much requisite peace and comfort when it becomes necessary to recharge a little, or when the waves are crashing over our heads, right? Well, there were a few such places in Nina's life as well, regarding appropriate situations that fit both the occasion and the mood. Such was, for example, the glass-domed upper floor of the observatory wing of the university library, if she wanted to immerse herself in the endless world of stars and the galaxy, or the library itself, where she could easily slip away from reality with the help of endless stories, and legends.

Then there was the roof that belonged to her apartment in the almost completely empty building. All she had to do was climb out of the window and there was the park and the university, decorated with arcades and columns shrouded in darkness at night, the best sight for rethinking existential thoughts.

She could take advantage of the little light pollution and stare at the sky and the planet's moons, which looked much bigger and brighter from here than anywhere else in the city. Perhaps that is why the observatory was built nearby.

Usually, when she didn't have much time, she found the peace she needed here.

But there was a place, special and secret. At least that's what she liked to believe. A small empire of her own that her mother gave her many, many moons ago on a sleepless summer night, during an exciting adventure together. She might have been seven years old at the time. There were only three people living in that small house, but at least they tried to push out the bitter, medicine-scented air of sadness with an act of love and the warmness of a truncated family.

Grandma Eve-Lynn was already fast asleep, but Nina could not dream, she tossed and turned until the bed finally threw her out. Her mother was sitting in the kitchen. Nina remembers her sitting there, one leg pulled up on the chair, a mug resting on her knee, in it the remnants of mint tea, which had cooled down a long time ago, painted the rim of the ceramic mug in a dark green shade. The holopad was on the table, Nina's mother was directing the touch screen with one hand, the other was supporting her sleepy head. Her hair was short, and the colorful scarf she had put on in the morning was now slightly to one side with a loose bow. She hummed a melody of some old song with amusement and the air smelled of cherry and jasmine. An expensive perfume from a far away place. Gift from a traitor person, to cover up a lie, or maybe it was a kind gesture? Who knows? That person no longer lived in Nina's memories. Perhaps, if such a thing exists, it would have remained in another timeline. The same man who taught her to play the piano, who opened her interest to the sky full of stars and wonders, or who built the best bunker during storms by making a huge mess of quilts and pillows.

In Nina's memory, the man already lived differently. Every single memory was rewritten retroactively, tainted with some kind of strange poison that gave them a darker filter and a bittersweet taste. Just like the memories, the poison of betrayal took its toll on Nina herself. Like her father Felix, the old Nina no longer existed, at least not in this timeline. Since then, it's as if every passing day has brought more and more darkness into her life, as if the universe decided that it would be a fun game to kick the little girl, in as many ways as possible. A kind of transformation began in her personality. She already saw the world differently. She saw adults as liars, doctors as frauds and hope as a children's fairy tale.

And about Felix: his name no longer meant 'father' or certainly not for her, it was shortened to many other adjectives that the girl had heard so far only from holofilms, such as 'liar', 'cheat', 'coward'. The first man in her life she loved was the person who represented to her the true meaning of these adjectives.

Nina didn't like to think about him, but she liked to see her mother like this, peaceful, absorbed in something and not tied to a sick bed.

"Why aren't you sleeping, little star?" the woman asked softly when she noticed the little girl peeking from behind the door frame.

"I can’t sleep. I'm not tired. And the super-duper sleeping count spell is wrong. It’s broken. It doesn't work, even though I tried to count all the loth wolves who howl to the stars like Grandma suggested."

"Looks like none of us are sleepy. It's time for a little adventure then!"

Nina loved it when her mom felt better, everything was happier and more colorful, almost magical. The evening stories were longer, making dinner together was also good fun, accompanied by music to which they sang together. At such times, her mother's eyes were filled with life and sparkled like the constellation Canis Minor on clear nights. Just like tonight.

They didn't change clothes, they just put on their shoes, the jacket over the pajamas and the portable telescope.

Nina looked up at her mother a little confused as they walked towards the lake. It wasn't far, it was a well-known path for a while, then it became unknown and exciting. Nina hasn't been out at the lake at night yet. It was completely different to see the landscape and the creatures at night. Millions of luminous insects fluttered their wings in flight, and even blue-glow fish glistened under the lake's water dark coloured mirror surface as they bathed in the moon. The white flowers bloomed at night, filling the air with an intoxicatingly sweet scent. It occurred to Nina that they are no longer on Naboo, but in an exotic, distant landscape, one of those places that are used to be told as evening fairy tales, or the stories told by the vendors in the market.

"Where are we going?" he asked as she held her mother's arm tighter.

She didn't like the fact that the leaves of the lush forest vegetation were caressing her arms, hair and face from everywhere. Seeing this, Nina's mother Holly put her on her back so that Nina was like a little human backpack. They went on laughing.

"You'll see, little star. Tonight we'll watch the shooting stars from a very special place."

They followed the unknown path, but soon, behind two huge rocks, a secret lake appeared in front of them. It was surrounded by forest and opposite the domed roof of the distant Theed’s Royal Palace and the three moons shone high on the mountaintops. And a small waterfall also filled the silence of nature with a gurgling sound, mixed with the soft sounds of nocturnal animals.

And there stood the house. It was big and -we should rather call it a villa-. It is two-storey, built of stone and carved brick. With tall split windows, some of them patterned with colored glass. The years had worn it down a lot, the glass was missing in several places, or it was just cracked and broken. The walls were covered with various creepers, with bright pink papery petals and white fluffy stamens with a sweet scent. The tower roof had holes in several places, and the tiles were mostly dislodged, so thin mold disfigured the corners of the rooms. The bottom of the upper terrace, decorated with arcades, rose above the columned circular terrace outside.

Statues and worn carvings decorated the house, most of them depicting a species of monster with a terrifying face. Nina was a little surprised, but her mother walked in through the old black wooden door, which was cracked and the paint had almost completely worn off.

But the best part was the glass domed roof, of course it was also holed, broken and dirty, but a wonderful light filtered through it and illuminated the space. Nina has always dreamed of a bedroom with such a roof view.

Inside, on the walls were paintings and pieces of mosaics, carved fireplaces, and old ornate furniture. Among the scraps of red and black patterned carpet and sofa fabric, golden threads glistened in the sunlight. Even the lamps were made of ornate wrought iron, with the remains of tiny candle stubs. The living room, which was oval, surrounded by windows, in the center of which stood an old piano covered, and on the wall a huge mirror, the rim of which was gray with dirt, but still nobly grandiose in its bronze frame.

"What is this place, mother?" Nina asked in amazement, running her tiny fingers over the stars painted on the wall. There was a layer of gray dust on her fingers from the movement, which she wiped on her pajamas, with a little frown.

"This is our perfect stargazing spot. And our secret little palace, my little star."

"I feel like a princess here." the little girl whispered to herself, and dreamily turned around a few times. Her mother took her by the hand and led her and started telling stories. "Officially, the place is not ours, at least according to local legends it belonged to a rich married couple. The husband was a warrior who came from a far away planet and had a huge business. He met the woman, and he fell in love with her at the light festival. From here, the maiden watched the lanterns flying into the sky, gracefully reaching for them and saving several from falling into the lake.

The best view of the stars was from here and on the lanterns flying towards them. They looked into each other's eyes and fell in love.

The men decided to build the villa as a wedding present for his beloved fiancee. The carvings tell the story of the culture of a distant planet. They are said to contain protective charms so that the house will always be blessed and hidden from those with bad intentions.

To protect the family while the husband is away." “Woow, he must have really loved his wife. But what happened to them, mother?

" Well, it's not known exactly, they didn't have a child. They were sad because of that, and tried everything. There are several stories floating around about what happened to them. Some people think that someone took revenge on them."

"But who? And why?"

Nina asked in a high pitched voice, she felt some curiosity mixed with fear and a hint of excitement. She loved to listen to legends.

"There are those who believe that Magic itself came, because sorcery has a price. There are those who believe that the husband's old master attacked them because he wanted his warrior back. The legend says he loved his wife so much that he used all his power to save her. "

“ But how? And did he save her? What happened to him?”

Holly set up the telescope in the garden of the old house while telling the story. The leaves of the trees formed a frame around the sky, on the dark surface of which the stars just shone. She adjusted the right angle and called her little girl over. Standing on her toes, Nina looked into the telescope with one eye. "See that cluster of stars? Are there two bigger and brighter ones close together?"

"Yes. There they are!" Nina pointed her little finger to the sky.

"The myth says that the warrior placed his love in the sky and that's how one part of the constellation was made. All his magic went into this spell. But he knew that his beloved would be safe and he would see her every night. But this made his evil master so angry that he ended the life of the warrior. Then the old gods, the Maker, or the Force itself took pity on the lovers and placed the energy of the dying warrior next to his beloved up in the sky. This is how the constellation of lovers was formed, how we can see it now. This is the only place you can see it this brightly from the planet.

The two were together in the sky and adopted dozens of smaller stars, which pass by them every year and visit them in the form of a meteor shower. You can see this ... right, now!"

Nina's eyes widened, dozens of tiny plumes of light floated across the sky in front of the constellation. The swarm consisted of many tiny dust particles. Her father had taught her many moons ago that these meteors heat up and burn due to their high speed in the planet's atmosphere, they do not reach the surface. He said that the best time to observe them is from midnight to dawn, when they can be seen in the greatest numbers. Her father promised that they would watch together this year, but according to him, this was just another lie. But Nina didn't want to think about that, instead she embraced her mother with joy, who, unaware of the promise, still surprised her with this experience and the legend along with it. They came at the perfect moment. The comets left behind colorful plumes, green, pale blue, purple, even pink.

After that, she went out a lot with her mom for picnics and night stargazing at the lake and the old villa, until Holly became so weak that she was bedridden again.

When her mom's illness got worse and passed away months later, Nina hid here to sob and mourn. This was their common place, every time she came here it was like a warm hug, she relived the lovely moments and warm memories over and over again. This became the place of her secret study place, and she went there whenever something that pressed hard on her soul, or simply to feel something. She talked secretly to the stars, as if her mother could hear her, waiting for an answer, but she never got one. After a terrible day, she was filled with peace and strength here, which helped her to continue her life and pretend to be strong in front of her grandmother, and all the doctors.

This was one of those days, so she decided it was time to look for the secret villa by the lake deep in the forest and seek out some peace.

If not for peace, but for something else - more precisely, someone else - she certainly found it.

Mood board made by me, pictures are from Pinterest.

next chapter

Taglist: @stardustbee @hellhound5925 @cloneloverrrrr @the-chains-are-the-easy-part

Let me know if you want to be added 💖

#star wars #darth maul #oc nina cerasus #starcrossed #nika's writing #darth maul x oc nina cerasus #maul x nina #original character #backstory #starcrossed fic #my fic writing #naboo #romantic story

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buckysbabygorl · 3 years

Text

Names

Summary: Y/N’s always the butt of Loki’s teasing and they can’t stand it, until the hidden meanings behind it are revealed

Word Count: 2k

Pairing: Loki x GenderNeutral!Reader

Warnings: swearing

Cowritten by @babybluereads

When the Asgardians had arrived on earth, the tiny town of St. Abb’s had accepted them with open arms. The community immediately took to caring for the newcomers and providing them with whatever they needed. Y/N, being the assertive and bright person they were, immediately caught the eye of the fighting trio that had defended Asgard in its last moments.

Y/N was quick to help where they could; taking on leadership roles and directing the townspeople on what actions to take next for the Asgardian folk to fit in. They provided shelter, food, clothing, whatever was necessary.

Valkyrie and Y/N developed a fast friendship; she liked Y/N’s confidence and strength, and they managed their people side by side. Thor adored most, if not all migardians and their customs, and Y/N was no exception. Y/N made him laugh, provided him with comfort and advice, and he contributed to the town in any way he could when he visited.

And then there was Loki. Oh, Loki, Loki, Loki.

Y/N had very little patience when it came to him; as a matter of fact, Y/N had none.

Loki was, politely, a grade A pain in the ass.

He was one to disappear for hours or days at a time; returning with no explanation as to why. He forced trickery on the township; amusing the children and the occasional townsfolk, but not Y/N. He was rowdy at the local bar; he was constantly seen partying, making this once quiet town louder than ever.

People adored him in town. Y/N however did not; they wanted structure, organization. He was chaos walking.

Worst of all; he felt the need to be glued to Y/N’s side constantly. He loved to tease them, get a rise from them first thing in the morning, he stopped them from doing their work, and it always left them fighting.

What really bothered Y/N is when he’d insult them in another language; which he did often. Something he’d huff under his breath, and when Y/N demanded clarification he’d simply laugh and walk off. Which seemed to be the only time he ever left them alone.

It was infuriating. Which is what Y/N was complaining about to Valkyrie right at this moment.

“I don’t understand why he can’t just piss off; everyone in town loves him, why can’t he go bother them?”

Valkyrie smiled, “Perhaps that’s why he does it; he knows you hate him. It’s likely the most entertaining thing for him.”

Y/N huffed as they lifted another crate, stacking them against the wall. “Well that’s just sadistic,” they said, “You’d think he’d get his rocks off on something else.”

Valkyrie laughed, but not for the reason Y/N thought.

“I’m not sure why my rocks are of your concern, but please leave sadism out of it.”

Y/N’s teeth clenched at the voice, and tried to ignore it.

Loki smiled, “No greeting? I don’t even get a “good morning your highness”?”

“No, you don’t.” Y/N lifted another crate, which was swiftly pulled out of their hands by Loki. Y/N sighed, reaching for another one.

“I don’t need your help, I can carry it myself.” Y/N stated.

Loki chuckled as he stacked the crate in its place, before plucking the other from Y/N’s hands as well.

“It’s my pleasure, I’m certain I can do a better job anyways.”

Valkyrie shook her head, staying silent as the conversation transpired. She knew better than to jump in: one, because Y/N could handle themselves; two, because the last time Valkyrie stepped in, knives were involved and nearly banned in the town square because of it. Out of respect for peace and civility in New Asgard, Valkyrie ceased her fighting. For now.

As composed of a person Y/N was, they were one to get easily flustered. Yes, their emotions were in check, but something about Loki’s teasing was especially provoking.

“I doubt it,” Y/N said, “Besides, how can you do a better job when you’re hardly ever here.”

“There are other ways to say you miss me, Y/N,” Loki said, “And I’m always here. You’re the one that wishes I wasn’t.”

“That’s not true, I just wish when you were here, you were less annoying.”

“I think that’s asking too much of him,” Valkyrie said, examining the lures of their fishing stock, “It’s ingrained in him.”

“Oh Valkyrie, I didn’t realize you were here.” He teased, momentarily turning his attention away from Y/N.

The warrior rolled her eyes, taking a nearby piece of broken crate and chucking it at his head.

He deflected it but turned to retaliate, before Y/N stopped him.

“Hey, settle down. We have a lot of work to do, and I need you two to focus.” Y/N reprimanded.

Y/N didn’t realize it, but they had their hand placed on his chest. Loki smirked at the contact, before Y/N swiftly pulled their hand away.

“Now,” Y/N said, “Are you going to actually be helpful? Or are you planning on wasting my time.”

Loki hummed before looking back to the open boathouse entrance that he had come from, “No, I don’t plan on staying long. I was only stopping by to see my melilla.”

Y/N scowled with a groan. “If you’re going to insult me, you could at least do it in a language I understand!”

But their complaint fell on deaf ears as he laughed, exiting just as quickly as he’d come.

Now it was Valkyrie’s turn to laugh, their minor conflicts always being of great entertainment. But she knew Y/N would complain about it for the rest of the afternoon; their work was already tainted by the presence of Loki.

Thor was happy to be back, he could only spend so much time with the Guardians before needing some space. He admired the team, but the arrogance of that Starlord fellow was sometimes too much to bear. Not that Thor made it any easier; he was quite the confident man himself. They’d butted heads far too often, and now he was in need of a much deserved break.

He strode into town cheerily; greeting the townsfolk with an overjoyed disposition. Though happy he was to see the midgardians; he was looking for one in particular. He finally spotted Y/N in the small farmers market just off the docks. In fact, he heard Y/N before he saw them, as once again Y/N was fighting with his notorious brother.

“You can’t turn apples into snakes when children are around, someone could get hurt and we don’t have a town doctor until next month!” Y/N scolded.

“Oh amata, I love how easily the simplest of things can make you forget yourself.” He said.

With a slight snarl on their face, Y/N groaned. “Stop calling me that!”

Loki simply laughed in their face, enraging Y/N further. Before they went to scream at him again, Thor decided to intervene.

“My Y/N! You seem awfully invigorated this morning,” He commented.

At the voice of their friend, Y/N turned and their mood was immediately brightened. “Thor! I had no idea you were coming.”

Loki looked at his brother with quiet contempt, “Of course you weren’t notified, my brother is known for making an entrance.

He turned back to Y/N, “Why don’t you ever address me with such kindness, carissima.” He said, dejectedly.

Y/N raised a finger to Loki’s face, once again going to scold him, before being interrupted by amused laughter from Thor.

“Well it’s nice to see that you’ve at least shifted to addressing one another with pleasantries.” Thor said.

Immediately Loki’s face filled with dread. Y/N looked at them both, surprised.

“You call that pleasantries?” Y/N asked, “He’s been insulting me in a dead language since we met.”

They spat the words in Loki’s face, but it was not met with his usual humourous demeanor.

Thor scoffed with delight, “I hardly think dearest is an insult, Y/N.”

Y/N was taken aback. No, that’s not what he’d been calling them, had he?

The expression on Loki’s face displayed nothing but truth at the fellow God’s statement, “Thor, please--” Loki said through gritted teeth.

Thor only smirked, intending to continue the teasing. “What else has he called you, Y/N? I speak fluent latin myself.”

Still shocked by the revelation, but not diffused in their anger, Y/N thought back to what he had called them before dearest.

“Well--he, he also called me amata.” Y/N said.

Laughing once again, Thor turned to his brother, “Oh, did he?” Thor asked.

Flustered, Loki tried to direct attention elsewhere, “Aren’t you supposed to be looking for Valkyrie? Or someone else to pester?” He asked.

Thor only smiled, “No I’m quite enjoying myself here, brother.”

“And as for the name amata,” Thor explained, “It means beloved. I think you’ve mistaken my brother’s flirtations for aggravations, Y/N.”

The three stood, not saying anything more as the passerby’s at the market weaved around them. Y/N snuck a glance at Loki, who was now desperately avoiding eye contact. Could it be that all this time, he was secretly calling Y/N terms of endearment?

He made no objections; only furthering the obvious truth that he had been.

Y/N didn’t know what to think, or what to say.

“Well,” Thor started, “I believe my work here is done. I shall leave you to each other.”

He looked up into the marketplace, “Joseph, so good to see you my friend!”

He parted, calling for the man at the nearby mead cart, while the other two still stood, not saying a word.

Loki quietly scorned his brother; of course he had to expose him. Now Y/N was aware of his secret fondness towards them, someone who already hated him more than he’d like.

“Melilla.” Y/N said.

Loki looked at Y/N, surprised by the word. “Pardon?” He asked.

Y/N hummed, “It’s another name, that you-um.. That you call me.”

“Oh,” Loki nodded, understanding what Y/N meant.

“Well,” he started, hesitant, “It means… little honey.”

“And why do you call me that,” Y/N asked, “Because I’m sweet?”

“No,” Loki defended, “You aren’t sweet. You’re the opposite. Um--bitter, and-and full of disdain--”

He was stopped by the laughter that escaped Y/N, but as he looked at them, he realized he was not the subject of their laughter but that Y/N was laughing with him. Though Loki would never admit it aloud, he found that much more pleasurable than any of the emotions he’d evoked from their banter.

“You aren’t… upset with me?” He asked earnestly.

Y/N looked to the ground, shifting in their stance with hands placed behind their back.

“Not entirely,” Y/N admitted, “I mean… it would’ve been nice to know you weren’t calling me an asshole this whole time.”

Loki chuckled bashfully, “Well, for that, I suppose I can apologize.”

An awkward silence came between them; not knowing what to say. It was surprising, to say the least, the new perspective that had been given to their situation. Loki’s need to be in Y/N’s presence, the constant chatting that what was thought to be filled with insults were now revealed to have been filled with kindness, and arguably, affection. Even on Y/N’s end; the frustrations of his disappearances and the concern for safety during his reckless shenanigans, were those too filled with care?

Loki cleared his throat to break the quiet. “So,” he started, “do you have much to tend to this afternoon?”

Y/N rolled their eyes at the obvious attempt to change the conversation, “Well if you’re going to continue being an idiot, then yes.”

“And.. if I cease, the idiocy?” He asked.

Y/N smiled, “Well, it wouldn’t necessarily be the worst thing, if you helped me with some... stuff down at the docks.”

He chuckled, amused. “You’re actually asking me to accompany you, for once?”

“Yes, I guess I am.” Y/N said. He went to speak before they stopped him, “But on one condition.”

“Oh?” He asked, “and what’s that?”

“That,” Y/N said, “If you’re going to compliment me, at least do it in a language I understand.”

He smiled, “Anything for you, dearest.”

First Loki fic ✅

Inspiration also goes to @damntonystarkandhissmile for the gender neutral ask 💕 I hope you like Loki babe 🤪

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#loki #Loki Laufeyson #MCU loki #loki x reader #Loki Laufeyson x Reader #loki imagine #loki fanfic #loki x gender neutral reader #loki x gn!reader #loki x ace reader

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daydreaming-in-letters · 3 years

Text

The Heir

Part 2

11/05/2021

Pairing: (Modern Day!)Charles Brandon x fem!reader (3rd person)

Word Count: 3,531

Warnings: verbal exchange with strong language, lots of cussing, alcohol, assault, emotional rollercoaster

Summary: After a week of fruitless deer stalking, our photographer stops at the local pub to enjoy a peaceful dinner, but yet again a certain duke shows up to thwart her plan.

A/N: I had so much fun writing the dialogue. I hope I didn't overdo it.

Picture by Andrew Seaman via Unsplash

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

The Rose & Crown

The place was bursting with people. Even for a Friday night the small village pub was unusually packed. Shoulder to shoulder, the inhabitants of Fakeston welcomed the beginning of the weekend which marked the end of yet another week of predictable monotony. At least for them, she assumed. Her week on the other hand had been anything but predictable and monotonous, although there had been numerous moments in which she had wished it would have been, so she could have just known where that darned buck hid and taken the bloody picture already. She had been roaming the forest and the neighbouring dunescape every day, twice, freezing and shivering in the chilly and damp hours of twilight. The only thing that had helped her endure this heinous task was the warmth she felt deep inside her heart every time she imagined the look of defeat on Charles Brandon’s face when she would finally succeed in pissing on his parade.

Sadly, it seemed as if even mother nature had joined forces with the dark side now and her last round of deerstalking had found an abrupt end as the weather forecast for once had proven its reliability. And so she had decided dinner at The Rose & Crown would have to do for tonight if she didn’t want to risk catching pneumonia walking home to the opposite end of the village in the raging rainstorm.

She had hoped to spot some friendly faces in the crowd, but all she had seen was a familiar redhead that belonged to a man she wasn’t very keen on meeting tonight. Or any night really. And so she grabbed her pint and downed the remains of black tranquilliser that had worked its magic this evening. But the malty sweetness turned bitter on her tongue the moment her eyes landed on the mirror that sat on the wall above the empty bench opposite her.

Fantastic. Just what she needed tonight.

His appearance was so out of place it was almost painful. The new Duke of Suffolk was clothed in an expensive looking woollen coat that had undoubtedly cost more than a month’s salary of someone like her, matched with an equally posh flat cap which he pulled from his head with the nonchalance of a person who grew up with a silver spoon in their mouth. The only thing that was missing was the hideous scarf he had worn last time.

It was obvious he was looking for someone and she had just started to wonder whether he was actually stupid enough to meet someone for business in a pub full of people who wished he would drop dead on the spot rather sooner than later, when the reflection of her hostile gaze met his.

“Great!” she muttered to herself, her voice inaudible above the noise of the chattering guests, when he smirked at her as if he had been dying to see her all week. She answered his antics with a pointed roll of her eyes, just in case he had forgotten that she hated him, but to her horror, he didn’t seem to take her silent hint to fuck off. Instead, his smile grew wider while he closed the distance between them.

“Hi!”

“A top of the evening to you, too, Your Snobbiness.”

Hopefully whoever he was intending to meet here would show up any time soon to spare her the view of his snot-nosed countenance. But as usual, luck was not on her side. On the contrary. It seemed to laugh right into her face when the personification of insufferableness let himself glide into the spot across from her.

“Don’t they teach you any manners at those fancy pants schools? You usually ask if you are welcome before you join a stranger’s table.”

The corners of his mouth pulled up slowly, revealing two rows of perfect, pearly white teeth. So did hers. After all, smiling was just another way of baring one’s teeth, wasn’t it?

“Well, we are not exactly strangers, are we, Miss Y/L/N? We might not have been formally introduced to one another, but you see, I know very well who you are.”

Leaning forward in an attempt to reclaim the table as her territory, she held his challenging gaze.

“Then do tell me, exactly what about our encounter in the woods gave you the impression that it would be okay to join me for a pint?”

Without hesitation, he mimicked her gesture, and the insolent invasion of her private space was accompanied by a waft of his rich scent.

“Believe me, I can imagine a thousand places I’d rather like to be than here in your company, but I have some official business to settle with you.”

For him, the argument was obviously finished with that as he began to settle in further. Casually, he shrugged the coat off his wide shoulders to reveal a pristine white shirt that was topped with a dark grey waistcoat and his burgundy scarf.

“Oh good, there it is.” Her tone was laced with false relief while she stared at the piece of clothing she disliked so much. “Your outfit wouldn’t have been complete without that abomination.”

Of course her snarky remark had been fully intended to wound his vanity, and she couldn’t wait to finally see the dimming flicker of offence in his nauseatingly radiant eyes. But the sudden darkness that clouded his once beaming face now was not what she had expected at all. Softly, almost lovingly, he caressed the target of her ridicule and although he was sitting right in front of her, he was completely gone for a moment.

“It is the last gift my mother gave to me before she died.”

His voice was almost drowned out by the cheerful noise of their surroundings and it left her wondering whether she had been intended to hear it at all. But even if he hadn’t uttered a single word, his face would have said it all. Maybe his father had been right. He had so often told her about his son when she had visited the lonely old man in his huge manor and not once had he spoken ill of him. But no matter how many times he had repeated it, not for one second had she believed him that the man who had chosen to abandon his own father as soon as he had come of age could be a good person. And yet, right here in this moment she got a small glimpse of the boy his father had so often spoken about. Sweet and kind at heart, but broken by life’s brutal pace. And lost. So utterly lost.

She only noticed what she had done when his eyes found his left hand that still remained on the table between them and she could feel her cheeks heat up violently before she finally pulled hers away.

“Well, actually the scarf itself is not that terrible. It’s probably more the fact that it is slung around your neck that is a little offsetting.”

The hint of a smile played on his beautifully shaped lips as the bewitching sparkle slowly returned to his enchanting orbs of stormy blue. A shame really that he had to be such a git.

“I might regret saying it later, but I think I’m beginning to see why my father liked you so much.”

“And how would you know that? He told me the two of you hadn’t spoken in years, apart from an obligatory call for his birthday and on Christmas. But I hardly believe you spoke about me in the few minutes those calls usually lasted.”

Her voice sounded even more reproachful than she had meant it to, but this time, to her astonishment, he didn’t rise to her accusations.

“He left me a letter,” he answered calmly. “It seems he was rather fond of you. Calling you the daughter he never had. I guess you are the person he always wanted me to be. Caring about this place and its people, caring about him and the things that were important to him.”

He shot her a feeble smile that couldn’t hide the turmoil of emotions that was raging in his heart right now.

“It might not help much, but he often spoke fondly of you as well.”

“That’s really nice of you to say, but I can hardly believe that.”

“But he did. He loved you. Very much. And he missed you. I just wish you would have had the chance to sort it all out. He never actually said it, but it was apparent that he hoped you would return one day.”

He huffed. “But I never did.”

“Why didn’t you?”

He thought about her question for a while and she began to fear she might have overstepped a boundary when his eyes found hers again and the sheer amount of remorse they held made her stomach turn.

“Fear, I believe, of facing my father again after such a long time. And of my past. A little guilt as well probably, the longer I stayed.”

Maybe it was his honesty that took her completely by surprise or the fear that the dwindling flame in his eyes might die completely. Whatever it was, it drew her towards him with such force that she found her hand drifting closer to his on its own accord until it covered it again. He felt warm and unexpectedly soft underneath her fingertips and this time he didn’t glance down onto their joined hands in surprise. Instead, he just smiled at her, a heartfelt gesture full of gratitude and appreciation for her sympathy.

Completely lost in his eyes, she didn’t notice the grudging look that rested upon the duke and her. She didn’t even catch the movement from the corner of her eye that might have given her the chance to brace herself for what was about to come. It was only when Charles broke their eye-contact in irritation that she followed his gaze and found the man she had been wanting to avoid at all cost standing next to their table. As if she had been caught stealing sweets from her mother’s secret stash, she pulled her hand away. But the intruder didn’t even seem to notice while he spitefully mustered the man who kept her company.

He still didn’t say a single word when he finally turned to her and shot her the same venomous look of disdain.

“Edward? Can I help you with anything?”

“A word?” was all he said in his usual charming manner.

“Well, actually I’m kind of busy at the moment. Maybe later?”

“I can see that,” he pressed out through gritted teeth. “That’s exactly why I want a word with you.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. This couldn’t be happening.

“Okay, shoot.”

He certainly hadn’t expected that she would ask him to state his grievance in front of Charles judging from the look he first shot him and then her.

“Not here.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” her hands shot up in irritation as she realised she would have no peace unless she gave in to his childish antics. “I’ll be back in a sec,” she excused herself with an apologetic look, grabbed her jacket and followed the disruptive element outside. At least it had stopped raining, she thought as the door fell shut behind her and a strained silence settled between them.

“What do you want now, Stafford?”

“As if you didn’t know.”

“Frankly, Edward, I don’t. So you either tell me or I’ll go back inside.”

“I’m sure you can’t wait,” he mumbled, apparently not quiet enough for her to miss. “Funny, I thought you weren’t interested in dating. At least that’s what you told me when I asked you out.”

“I’m not.”

He snorted loudly and a whiff of his boozy breath invaded her nostrils.

“Yeah, right. Seems like you just waited for a more eligible candidate.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Come on,” his agitation erupted from his chest and on instinct, she took a step back. “We all saw how you two got all touchy feely in your little corner booth, flaunting yourself right at him with your cute little smiles. You know, it’s one thing that you gave me a brush-off, but I would never have thought that you would sink this low.”

“What?” she spat despite her inner voice telling her not to anger the slightly drunken man any further.

“Oh, don’t give me shit. It’s clear you’re fucking the enemy now. After everything we’ve done for you.”

“Okay. Wait a second. Not that this is any of your business, but I’m not sleeping with Charles Brandon. And apart from that, what have you or any of the people in this village ever done for me? I’m doing this for the duke and for him alone. So you better shut your puss now and fuck off before I forget myself.”

But of course he didn’t. On the contrary. He chuckled mockingly upon her threat and took a step closer.

“Really? And what are you going to do? Smash in my face?”

And before she even got the chance to show him what she would do, he grabbed her wrists and pushed her into the wall behind her, knocking the air right out of her lungs.

“Didn’t think so.”

With all her might, she struggled against his iron grip which only brought him to press himself further into her. Panic rose inside her with every passing second, but all the bastard did was laugh her right in the face, his breath making her want to puke as it forced itself upon her as brutally as he did. Stars danced before her eyes and her head started to swim when she realised the only thing she could actually do was scream blue murder and hope someone might hear her, when her assailant suddenly turned his head for a brief second and she seized her chance. Her strike was swift and well aimed, and he let go off her, too busy clutching his most precious parts in agony to keep her locked between his body and the hard stone wall any longer. He growled, shooting her a deathly glare while he stumbled over towards the door that would lead him into the safe haven of his mates.

“You’ll regret that. Both of you,” he threatened before he vanished into The Rose & Crown, and it were only his words that made her realise she wasn’t alone. Halfway between the entrance to the pub and herself stood Charles, watching her intently.

“Are you all right?”

She could tell that he was unsure whether it was okay to approach her and so she spared him the decision.

“Didn’t I tell you I’d be back in a sec?”

“Yes, but—“

“But what? I’m plenty able to look after myself, you know.”

“You demonstrated that quite impressively.” He smirked as he visibly relaxed after the first shock. “So, do you want to go back inside?”

“Hell no. I’ve had enough of this shithole for one evening. I think I…” She pointed across her shoulder. “I’m gonna go.”

An awkward silence settled between them as he kept on observing her closely, probably expecting her to burst into tears or faint as soon as the level of adrenaline that ran through her veins would begin to normalise. And that idea made her angrier than everything Edward Stafford had accused her of. How could he even remotely assume that she was anything like the upperclass bimbos he had usually hanging on his arm?

“Can I walk you home?” His words came out of nowhere, but they seemed to confirm exactly what she had supposed to go on inside his 19th-century brain. “Just in case Dipshit Microphallus decides he actually likes his eggs scrambled by you a little more.”

“Don’t worry about him. He’s all mouth and no trousers.”

He took a step closer, his eyebrows knitting together slightly in the process.

“I’m not worried about him.”

“Oh, please. Spare me the feigned chivalry. You hardly know me, let alone like me. So why would you give a shit about me?”

She had hoped he would rise to her provocation, it would certainly make things so much easier. They could argue a little, she would be able to let out some steam and then she could just stomp off into the night and would never have to see him again. But as always, he didn’t make it easy for her and so he just shrugged off her accusation.

“It’s true. We are not exactly the best of friends, probably never will be, but that doesn’t mean I wish you any harm.”

Oh, he was good. He was really good. Not only that he looked as mouthwatering as a five-course meal, he also knew how to push all the right buttons with the damsels in distress. Luckily, she wasn’t one of those girly girls who needed to feel protected by a man.

She almost broke her little act of agitation as she could feel an evil smirk arise with the thought that she could actually use his fake gallantry to finally pull him into the argument she needed to get away from him. And so she forced back her triumphant grin and glared at him through narrowed eyes.

“Wait a minute. Is this how you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Get into all those women’s pants.”

“Excuse me?”

There it was. She almost had him and the adrenaline came rushing back, spiralling into a new high as she aimed for the kill.

“So this really is your trick. Oh, that’s low, even for you, Your Snobbiness. Waiting until you can offer yourself as the knight in shining armour to make innocent ladies fall for your charms? As far as I’ve heard, I would not be the first woman to end up in your bed this way.”

To her horror, this didn’t do the trick at all. And instead of causing the desired annoyance, his face lit up in amusement.

“But I have a feeling you would be the first to complain about it.” Completely dumbfounded she just watched like a prisoner in her own body while he continued his triumph. “Look, if you don’t believe in my honest concern for your safety, how about this: you walk ahead and I’ll follow a few steps behind. This way we both get what we want. I can rest my head tonight in the knowledge that you got home unharmed and you don’t risk that I charm my way into your precious panties on the way.”

She felt the sudden urge to groan her frustration into the night when she realised the impossibility of turning his offer down without looking like a hysterical fool.

“Fine,” she sealed her defeat, “but only if you promise I’ll never have to talk to you again after that.”

His eyes fell to the ground for a split second, but he couldn’t hide the faint smile that curled his tempting lips in the most delicious way.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

Rolling her eyes harder than a teenager at the peak of puberty, she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“And why is that? And please don’t pull any shit like you’ve fallen hopelessly in love with me and won’t rest until you’ve proven your undying love for me.”

“Hah,” a wild smile that reached all the way up to his eyes decorated his face, “as tempting as the thought might be, not even I would stoop so low for a night of, at best, mediocre sex with a prudish tree hugger like you. No, I’m afraid my interest is rather a matter of business. You might not remember that I already told you that, probably because you were distracted by my devilishly good looks, and believe me, I could think of better ways to spend my time as well, but this is about my father’s last wish and I intend to honour it.”

Never in a million years would she have thought that anything that left Charles Brandon’s mouth could excite her so much that she would even choose to ignore all the insults he had managed to slip into his little speech like the words he had just uttered. His father’s last wish. Did this mean he had changed his mind about his plans for Brandon Manor after all? She was dying to find out. But of course she would never give him the satisfaction of showing the spark of hope he had ignited.

“Ugh, all right. I’ll stop by your house tomorrow evening on my way back from the forest.”

“Splendid. I should probably walk Henry early then. That way I can also make sure a certain creature won’t cross your path on your daily evening deer hunt.” She glared at him and was just about to let him have it, when he shooed her away like a pestering insect. “And now skedaddle, little tree hugger, so we can both go our separate ways in a jiffy.”

Part 3

Tag List: please let me know if you want to be removed or added by either ask or DM - thank you!

@summersong69 @myloveforhenrycavill @dorothea-hwldr @omgkatinka @ashesofblackroses @amberangel112@madbaddic7ed @icarusblinders @zealoushound @asuni921@endofalldays01 @nerra75 @indigosaurus @nowyouseeme098 @cap-just-said-language @miss-rebel-without-applause@wheretheriversrunintothesea @maan24 @mochionly@introvertedmouse @sofiebstar @kebabgirl67 @marytudorbrandon@littleone65 @agniavateira @enchantedbytomandhenry@lumiousmoon @tumblnewby @crazybutconfidentaf @lharrietg @supermamabear123

#charles brandon x reader #charles brandon x you #charles brandon #duke of suffolk #the tudors #modern day au #henry cavill #charles brandon fic #charles brandon fanfiction #charles brandon imagine #charles brandon fanfic #henry cavill imagine #the tudors fanfiction #the heir

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bentobarnes · 3 years

Text

『𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞』

note : my requests are OPEN! Feel free to send me story requests

pairings : bucky barnes x reader

word count : 1.7k

request by @lovie-barnes (I love soo much): bucky asking reader, who works at the compounds coffee shop out for a date! Its his first date since the 40’s and he is all nervous and shy🥺

warnings : tons of fluff and coffee

*feedback is appreciated. please reblog so it can reach more people♡

Bucky never thought he could believe in love again especially at first sight. Then he saw you and he realized he was wrong all this time. The moment he saw you, his heart started beating fast for the first time since he finally got his memories back his heart was beating for someone else. During the 40s he had been with many girls. He remembered the feeling, the beat of his heart back then and it was nothing compared to what he was experiencing right now.

After finally being free from Hydra Bucky was living in the compound trying to adjust himself to modern life. He was trying to fit in a place he thought he didn’t belong to. It’s been a few weeks now but he was still lost in this. The compound was huge there were places he didn’t even know exist. The only ones he knew were his room, the kitchen which was in the hall where they watched movies, and the gym. Until one day Steve invited him for a cup of coffee. What Bucky didn’t understand is that Steve wasn’t asking him to make the coffee himself he was inviting him for an actual coffee at the compound's cafeteria.

‘’Don’t look at me like that, Buck. You will like it. That’s the best coffee you can get in the whole New York.’’ Steve reassured him before pushing the button to the elevator.

They went to the top floor. There was only one door leading to the cafe.

‘’Oh did I mention that the view here is breathtaking,’’ Steve told him before pushing the door open.

There was only one person sitting at the table next to the huge windows, the sight of New York in full display, reading a book. ‘’Who is she? She looks soo beautiful.’’ Bucky thought to himself holding his breath amazed by your beauty.

‘’Oh, hi Steve. It’s good to see you again!” The woman closed her book and stood up to greet Steve.

‘’You must be James! It’s a pleasure to finally meet you!” You straighten your hand to give him a handshake but he wasn’t sure if it’s okay to catch your hand. For a brief second, he thought he offended you but you just smiled back at him.

‘’It’s okay. I was once like you. You will get used to it. Okay, Cap what are you two having today? You asked them taking your place behind the counter. Coffee beans were carefully ordered in glass jars behind you.

‘’I really liked that latte you made me last time but I want something a bit stronger if you know what I mean,” Steve asked and Bucky got nervous because he hadn’t had coffee in almost seventy years. What was he going to tell you?

‘’Then macchiato will be perfect for you, Cap. It’s stronger and harsher than the latte because it doesn’t have milk so it would be the best choice.” You didn’t even take a moment to think over Steve’s request. You knew exactly what he needed. How?

“What about you, James?” You turn your look to him.

“I-um. I haven’t had coffee for a very long time soo I have no idea what should I get?” He was nervous around you. His heart was racing because you looked like an angel walking on the earth making coffee. And to whom, to a deadly assassin like him.

‘’It’s okay. Just tell me what taste you want to try. Bitter, sweet, harsh. Coffee is a door to people’s hearts. It doesn’t like to be rushed just like people. Take your time’’ You looked down at your hands holding coffee beans a small smile on your face.

‘’I feel like I want something simple. Maybe not too bitter and too sweet. I don’t know.” He was nervous over a coffee drink. He wanted you to think he is good but he knew he looks like a fool.

“Flat late.” You simply replied.

‘’What?” Where you talking to him or to yourself? What is a flat late?

“Your coffee. It’s flat late. It’s like a cappuccino but it lacks the extra flavor from the chocolate dusting and milk foam so it’s flat late for you today.” You explained to him while taking all the ingredients.

‘’You will like it. She never faults to guess what coffee you need right now.” Steve placed his hand on his shoulder to give me courage.

You looked amazing. Stirring everything soo gently, pouring the coffee like you were dancing. God, you looked soo beautiful.

‘’Coffee is a love language. You can take the worst coffee beans and still get a good flavor if you put enough love and work into the process. Here guys. Have a nice drink!” You put the cups on the counter. Steve took his and went to sit next to the window. Bucky followed him. He wasn’t that impressed from the view of New York he was impressed by you. You prepared yourself a coffee and sat at the other table continuing to read your book. You looked peaceful but at the same time there was something mysterious about you and Bucky wanted to know what. It wasn’t mysterious in a bad way, definitely not. He was impressed by you and he wanted to know more about you. This cafe was his new favorite place. He wondered what kind of coffee you are drinking.

‘’I never got to know your name?” Finding the courage to finally speak, he turned around to face you.

‘’Oh yeah. I’m sorry. It’s Y/N.” You told him taking a sip of your coffee.

‘’What coffee are you drinking right now? I mean what is the taste like?” He was definitely interested in you and he wanted to spent time with you just. He wanted to understand what is going on inside your soul.

‘’It’s called Americano and it’s strong and very bitter. High in coffee, too.” This curiosity made you feel happy.

That day Bucky told himself he will come here every time he can just to see you. It wasn’t that much for the coffee but for you.

It’s been a few weeks now and Bucky got the chance to see you many times. Have small conversations with you. He talked with Steve about asking you out on a date and Steve assured him that it will be fine and he is happy for him. Today was the day. He opened the door for the cafe and you looked at him smiling.

‘’It’s good to see you, James! I kind of missed having you around for a while!” You were excited to see him.

‘’Hey! I wanted to ask you something. I, I haven’t done that in years so I will go straight to the point. Will you go on a date with me, Y/N. From the moment I saw you that day I wanted to ask you this and here I am now being a food.” His heart was racing. Did he make the right decision?

“Of course, James! I would love to! You know I was actually thinking when you will ask me. I kind of wish it was sooner.” You told him with a smirk.

“Oh god! Glad I did it then. Okay, so how about 9 am here tonight?” He asked carefully.

‘’See you at 9 then!’’ Your smile was the most precious thing in the world for him. He would give everything for that smile.

There were you in that black tight dress showing every curve on your body making coffee. If angels exist you were one of them.

“Hi! I made you some coffee! I know it’s dinner time but it’s never late for a good coffee. Plus you seemed a little tensed today and I thought it would help.” You explained to him. He knew what you were talking about.

‘’Thank you, doll. I appreciate it.” He moved your chair back for you so you can take your place at the table.

“You know James I was just like you.’’ You approached him looking at your coffee. For the first since he knew you, you looked sad.

“What do you mean, sweetheart?” He needed to be very careful here.

‘’I was an assassin just like you. With the difference that you were turned into one and I was born to be one. I have killed soo many people and I have fought wars my entire life. Until the Avengers helped me get my life back together. I knew how you feel the moment you entered the room because I’m just like you.” You were still looking at your coffee. He slowly reached out for your hand and when you didn’t push it away he took your hand in his.

“I didn’t know that and I’m sorry for what happened to you. You didn’t deserve any of this and it wasn’t your choice. Look at you! You are the most gorgeous human I have ever seen in my entire life. And believe me, I have seen a lot!’’ He squeezed your hand a little bit just to help you ground.

‘’I think I’m falling in love with you and I’m kinda scared of that but I’m also really happy that I found you.” You lifted your head to look into his eyes and now he finally saw the tears streaming down your cheeks. He put his hand gently on your cheek wiping away the tears with his thumb.

‘’Oh, doll. I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. I want this to work out you know. I want you to be mine.” His voice was soft and full of adoration and respect.

‘’James can’t you see that I’m already yours.” You placed your hand on his which stayed on your cheek and leaned into the touch kissing the back of his hand. He didn’t realize when he started leaning over the table until he felt his lips crash into yours. You returned the kiss, which grew deeper and deeper.

“I love you, Buck.” You whispered into his ear.

‘’I love you, Y/N.’’ He replied smashing his lips once again with yours.

In these moments Bucky was grateful to Steve who wanted to have coffee with him that day. If it wasn’t Steve, he would have never found this woman who he could call his. She was his and he was hers. It took him over 10 coffees to realize that he was just the worst coffee bean but you turned him into full of flavor coffee because you worked hard on the making. Coffee is a love language and you were his.

Tag list: @lovie-barnes , @littlecanadianlani

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kaisa-ryo · 3 years

Text

Attention deficit (pt. 1)

jujutsu kaisen

Characters: Itadori Yuji, Satoru Gojo, Megumi Fushiguro, Inumaki Toge, Sukuna Ryōmen, Nanami Kento, Suguru Geto

Warning: English isn't my native language!

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*

Itadori Yuji

Itadori in this situation acts, oddly enough, completely primitive. The less attention he sees from you, the more he tries to get him back. In other circumstances, this might even seem exaggerated, but here and now this is the most critical moment. What does he do? Yes, everything in a row: drops the book, turns its pages, rummages in the bag, humming softly to himself, and so on ... And all this continues until it comes to stroking the hips and lightly squeezing one palm, while the other rewrites the abstract ...

- I miss the old y/n. - he gives out with sadness in his eyes.

At this moment, the game of interest begins: you feel how simultaneously there is a feeling of spontaneous and purposeful manipulation, how you are gently and imperceptibly pushed towards the long-awaited goal.

In such a situation, one could easily succumb, but you, resisting this, answer:

- Yuji, I'm very busy right now.

It would seem that a strong guy fights curses, trains with the strongest shamans, but with ordinary words it is so easy to break.

It's hard for you to realize that right now he is depressed because of you. It's unusual to see a sad Yuji almost always smiling and making others do the same. Especially you.

And so you compromise, intertwining your fingers, frowning slightly and pretending to listen to something inside yourself ... After that, Yuji remains in this position for a long time, as if afraid to frighten you off, because now such closeness between you is too valuable to miss out.

Satoru Gojo

It turns out that sometimes even acting like a fool doesn't help you pay attention to Gojo. First, the way you constantly focus on the same thing, so that the words in your speech get confused, takes on a comic character, and he comes to the idea that, for no reason, for no reason, you decided that work is more important to you than himself. Then you stop paying attention to him altogether. You no longer look at him from under your brows, do not frown at the idiotic jokes with which he is trying to distract you, as it was yesterday. Satoru notices that you are much smaller. He is puzzled and even confused. Finally, it occurs to him that you just have nothing to do, and comes up with the craziest idea to entertain you.

- What are you doing? - a voice of a man sounded nearby, who had been watching you with interest for some time.

There was no answer. However, it is not surprising.

- Okay, okay, you don't have to answer... - He looked away.

This was his usual technique. After asking several meaningless questions, he suddenly fell silent, as if giving you the opportunity to think over the answer properly, and he himself imperceptibly removed, leaving you in complete confusion. But this time, due to the circumstances, the technique had to be slightly changed.

In the next moment, he was already pressing you to him and, taking advantage of this, with his other hand began to explore the curves of your body. The reaction was as if you were doused with boiling water or doused with cold water.

- What are you doing? - You asked in a trembling voice.

- Checking to see if you got fat after we lost sex. - still clinging to you, he answered. You were taken aback and began to push him away from you.

- I have not grown fat, let me go! You barked, feeling his arms tighten. - Let go! Fool! Let go!

Hands rested on your back, and he began to rock you slowly, stretching the moment when you finally stop resisting.

- It's okay, y/n. You just need to calm down. - he whispered, not hearing your words.

There is a mess in my head, the goal of your resistance has fled somewhere, and you start desperately hugging the man while he grins at the fact that he managed to do what he wanted.

Megumi Fushiguro

Megumi is not one of those who will behave like a child, attracting attention to herself when you do not even know the reason for her loss. He will speak to you as soon as he notices it.

- Do you want to talk about it?

You rub your eyes with fatigue, but you shouldn't ignore Fushiguro's question, because it concerns the two of you. No matter how serious his intentions are, he will always be there to remind you that you can talk to him about what worries you.

- I... will hardly give any good advice, but I will try to make it easier for you after the conversation. Megumi continues after a minute of your silence.

Even such a seemingly small detail as being able to talk to someone else significantly reduces stress and other not-so-good emotions. And the guy knows it.

- You can always count on my help. - already with a drop of confidence he says, and it's like the touch of a soft, pleasant hand on your shoulder. Of course, he does this primarily because he is worried, but this is only a secret cover for the fact that he is upset that you turned away from him, without noticing the real reason.

"Fushiguro, if I do this, I don't know... I... will feel like this..." The words elude you. It’s hard to even think about what you’ll say next.

The guy spreads his arms to give you room to hug and apologize, but you just put your head on his shoulder. You don't want to talk about anything else. The chest against which your head is pressed turns into a pillow. And then a quiet voice is heard:

- I'm not mad at you. You can stay here as long as you like.

But here you won't need anything as long as Fushiguro is around.

Inumaki Toge

Not surprisingly, the first thought that comes to him is "it's all because of the damned speech."

Does he talk to you too little? Maybe he is too quiet and invisible for you? Perhaps you are afraid that someday he will take control of you? From such questions echoing in my head, my jaws come together and a lump appears in my throat. But the worst thing is that Toge begins to doubt his right to meet with you, because he cannot even talk to you with dignity, as a person to a person. Even your sweet persistence, which sometimes breaks through the boundaries of ordinary attempts to turn the conversation back on track, does not help. As a result, when it comes to your attention deficit, he begins to think that all this time you did not notice him, as if he was one of those whom you forgot on the first day.

- Okaka? - the young man has been trying to attract your attention with his eyes for a long time, but it seems that even words cannot help.

- Sorry, Toge. I'm not in the mood today...

The guy was actually a perfectionist and would rather have your smile shine every day. I wish he could turn back time right now, scroll to the moment when something went wrong and fix it at any cost.

Inumaki tucked a lock of your hair behind his ear to see your face behind it. He knew you had flawless skin and plump, sensual lips. He would admire your face for hours.

The next second, the blond rested his head on your lap, looking into your eyes. You liked such cute things from him. They weren't vulgar or inappropriate. They were what she needed.

You smile faintly and stroke the hair on the back of his head, touching his cheek with your fingertips.

Sukuna Ryōmen

This is the case when Sukuna uses passive aggression. Slightly wrong, some small sign of ignorance - his speech turns into direct pressure on your relationship with him. He can really hurt you a lot if you don't appreciate his efforts to make you even a little happier. Most often they are small and insignificant, the kind that anyone would do, but for the King of Curses, this is really something grandiose. And since he has many ways to destroy your relationship, if you think he made a mistake, remember how it hurts him.

- Will you ignore me again? - Sukun asked with imperious anger, the last pieces of despair were dying in his soul. - And where is your mercy? If I have become disgusting to you, why do you continue to need me?

There was nothing to answer. It was not pride that tormented him at all, but an ever-deeper regret that with your equanimity you just caused another outbreak of rage in him. Most of all, the thought that you, perhaps, does not even notice it, and your eyes clouded with pain glide over something that is very dear to him, terrified him.

The dead silence continued, and my chest ached more and more. Then there was a soft groan:

- Y/n, I love you.

Tears ran down your cheeks, but did not brush them away with my hand. You knew it wasn't going to help. Bitter emotions generated by the word "love" are not able to be burned out on the face, like the sun on clay. You can't stop feeling. And all the same, looking at you was as painful as seeing your motionless glazed gaze.

He hugged you from the back as soon as he felt that you were repenting. Like the time you forgave him for calling you your own. He had strong hands - you can be sure. He was very gentle. You felt less pain. Maybe in the future it will be difficult for him to remember this, but now he tightly squeezed you in his arms and was so affectionate that you wanted him to never let you go.

Nanami Kento

He begins to suspect that something is wrong very early. First, morning kisses disappeared somewhere before leaving for work, then sincere conversations at the table, and then completely short meetings with glances. Moreover, the last remnants of intimacy are gone. Nanami began to think that something had happened to you. He always tried to protect you from any problems. And so you found yourself right in front of him, so closed and detached, he could not so easily take away the comfort and peace that he had been creating for so long and skillfully. And first of all, of course, he will lend you a helping hand to make it easier for you as quickly as possible.

A perplexed look will appear from under dark eyelashes after a man touches your forehead with his palm. It seems that the whole thing is not about health.

- You don't have a fever. He began.

- I know, thanks.

But Kento was clearly hinting at something.

- So what's up? - then you know what Nanami means. But she said nothing.

- Y/n, I do not want to impose anything on you, I just need to know what is happening to you so that our relationship with you does not suddenly go downhill.

The man took your hand and brought it to his lips. Nanami felt that if he said something now, he would commit tactlessness. And so he was silent, waiting for your answer.

- Sorry... - Tears began to burn my eyes. - I am very, very ashamed. I... it's just hard for me now, but it will pass by itself. I'm sure.

You pressed as tightly as possible to the man, hugged him and buried your face in the chest. He put his hand on your head encouragingly. I already didn't care about the problem as a whole. Now for you there was only what you felt - his soft stroking, the smell of a strong male body, warmth and care, and there was nothing but that.

Suguru Geto

He will take it calmly, without intention. But she won't ignore it. Often he will offer tea or something else, just to get at least one word out of you, in an attempt to bring you into conversation. He will not touch you without asking, because he knows about the value of personal space. And yet, for a while, it can fiddle with spontaneous statements in order to simply take away the soul and break a long silence.

- I see your day is going well... - Geto smiles with restraint. - Lots of news for me?

Guessing that he is once again trying to create a dialogue between you was almost nothing. But you are, of course, silent.

- I see. - Suguru sits down next to you, as close to your side as possible, not giving a damn if you don't like it.

- Maybe I offended you in some way? - he continues. - Or are you just not too open in your thoughts?

- Nothing. It's okay. - you throw.

- But it seems to me that no. - he takes your hand in his, as if trying to make you smile. “I think you have something to tell me, don’t you? He raises his eyebrows, expecting your reaction. Instead of answering, you grimace with a shrug. Suguru repeats the question:

- So what happened? Why don't you want to share your thoughts with me?

- What would you like? You ask. - Would you be happy to know that there is a perfect girl with great manners, beautiful and intelligent, whom you deserve?

To be honest, Suguru did not expect such an answer. You can see that he is a little dumbfounded, but quickly comes to his senses. And then he starts laughing - so sweet and sincere that you start to feel embarrassed and blush with shame.

- And I was already expecting something more terrible. He laughs. - Okay, be it your way. I'm not a particularly sentimental person. I do not know what to say.

- Tell me you feel terribly in love. - grabbing his wrist, you say.

The brunette makes a startled face again. But you do not retreat - you hold him for a few more seconds, forcing him to surrender. - Only from the bottom of my heart ...

- Y/n, I feel terribly in love with you and will never fall in love again next time. So? He asked, grinning.

Wiping away the tears of happiness, you hugged him without words, while he, hugging you with one hand, exhaled with relief.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*

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calumrose · 3 years

Text

There’s No Place Like Home || C.H

A//N: Let’s just say I’ve not been doing so good since Calum posted that tiktok two days ago... And this is what became of that <3 Also, this might just be the smallest thing I’ve ever written so it’s feels very unfinished to me although it is actually done. Anyway, I hope you like it! Let me know what you think!

Word Count: 1.8k

The morning sun was low as Calum ventured outside, the neck of his guitar securely in his grasp as he took a steady step down onto the smooth stone path which surrounded his home. The golden glow cascaded across the garden around him, shadows being painted across his surroundings as they danced in the gentle morning breeze. The sun provided a welcomed warmth to his back as he edged towards the small decking area where he usually kept his gym equipment for workouts.

He held a mug in his hand as he sat himself down, palm curled around the pale ceramic as he lifted it to his lips to take a tentative sip of the bitter brew. His tongue touched his lip as the scalding liquid stung his sensitive skin, leaving a fresh pinch-like feeling behind as he lowered the mug from his face and placed it down next to him. He swallowed his mouthful of the warm coffee, his taste buds bouncing in delight at the shot of caffeine that was entering his system. Coffee was the only way to start his day according to Calum.

Or so that’s how it used to be.

Looking over to his left, his chin tilting just barely so he could catch a glimpse, his eyes fell to the soft shadows which lay beyond the thin curtains that hung behind the open door that led out into the garden. Small glimpses of you being captured as the soft morning breeze blew, causing the curtains to split and small snapshots of the sight he loved become clear to his eyes.

A smile graced his face as he made out the soft shapes as they moved behind the curtain, the golden light shining against them only to bring out the darkened contrast of the shadow of the body which stood not too far behind it. Every movement was graceful through the curtain, the smooth lines of your body as it moved came across like that of a dance, the gentle lifting of your arm looking like a delicate petal of a rose that flew in the soft breeze.

His eyes were mesmerised as they set on your silhouette through the net curtains, his smile never fading as he watched the gentle movement of your legs as you swayed in place. He knew you weren’t alone, the faded sight of your craned neck looking downwards as your own eyes settled upon the small body that lay peacefully in your arms. He wondered how long she would continue to sleep for, her small body being removed from her crib in the early hours when you both arose from your slumber upon the sound of her soft cries. It wasn’t long before she drifted back to sleep to the gentle sound of your heartbeat as you prepared some morning coffee for yourself and Calum.

Setting the guitar on his lap, the curve of the wood bending so it rested comfortably on his thigh, Calum’s thumb slowly began to brush against the delicate strings. He allowed for his fingers to be placed along the neck of the guitar, knuckles bending as the pads of his fingertips pressed against the strings as he played the familiar chords he had known since he was young.

A familiar acoustic melody filled the peaceful morning, the plants which littered the dirt along the fence gently blowing in the soft breeze. It was a sound that reminded him of the journey that had led him to where he found himself, what twists and turns he had taken throughout his life that had led him to find himself living a life that he could only have dreamed of living.

The soft words fell from his lips as he continued to play, the familiar lyrics lacing together as they left his tongue in a soft voice as he looked out into the golden rays of the sun as they danced and painted the garden in a beautiful light. The garden had always been a little getaway for the two of you, finding yourselves laying out there as the sun would set at dusk, eyes cast upwards to the sky as you’d watch the shades of orange and red brush across the wide-open canvas. You hoped that one day you’d be able to show your daughter the wonders of the world, to be able to bring her out and sit with her to watch as the sky changed colour, pointing up to the descending sun and waving it a warm goodbye before welcoming the blue moon in its place.

Lyrics slowly turned into mumbles, a soft hum sounding from within his throat as he gently bobbed his head to the rhythm he was creating with his hands. His eyes closed momentarily as he lost himself in the song, his lips curling as memories danced across his mind. Memories of days on the road, memories of late nights spent tucked away in small bunks, and memories of sweet kisses before running off onto stage to the sound of fans calling their name. The song held a lot of memories, most of them happy, some not so, but all of them important, nonetheless. They held memories of days spent with his brothers, days spent with his family, of days spent with you. Those were days he never wanted to forget.

Opening his eyes, Calum looked back towards the open door, the thin curtain having been pulled open so the sunlight could break through the open frame. He could see into the house from where he sat, the strip of sunlight stretching across the wooden floor as far as he could see inside. You were still in his eyeline, your body still gently swaying with every small step you took as you walked around the room. He noticed how your eyes were still settled upon the small body in your arms, your lips curled upwards as they moved and silent words were spoken into the air. He wondered what you were saying, what words you were speaking to the sweet girl who slept against your chest. He wondered if he would ever know the conversation that you shared with her, if he would ever gain knowledge into the private whispers and small giggles that escaped in the moments you stole with her in the times when Calum wasn’t around.

He watched with warm, kind eyes as one of your hands brushed her supple cheek, a finger curling at the second knuckle as you allowed for your skin to brush against hers. The blanket she was wrapped him hung from your arms, soft corners hanging in the air and brushing against your legs with every step that you took. He smiled at how the sleeves of the — his — sweatshirt you wore were slightly bunched up at your wrists, the fabric almost ballooning around your arm due to the size. He took in the tired lines that had pressed into your face, ones that he was sure matched his own, but they were marks that you each came to wear with pride. They were marks of parenthood.

His smile grew once more as he watched you turn, your body moving towards the open door, your feet coming to a gentle halt just before the doorway. You kept her shielded from the crisp morning air, your sweatshirt-clad arms tucked around her as the oversized fabric acted as a warm wall to protect her from a threatening chill. He could just make out the details of her as you came to the door, his eyes finding the delicate features of her face and feeling how his heart leaped at the sight. She was so precious to see, her eyes closed, and little hands clenched into small fists as they gripped onto the fabric of the sweatshirt that adorned your body.

“I like the summer rain, I like the sounds you make,” Calum’s voice gently carried out into the morning air as he sang the chorus for a final time, eyes remaining set on the sight of his sleeping daughter as he sang, “We put the world away, we get so disconnected.”

Slowly raising his gaze, his eyes came to meet yours. The sight of your smile made his heart feel like it could burst, the slight push up of your cheeks as your eyes were soft as they connected with his. He felt his heart flutter as he continued to sing, fingers strumming the melody of a song he knew you loved to hear, even after all the years. He watched as your body swayed still, your movements in time with the soft strumming on his fingers against the delicate strings of the guitar in his lap.

Eyes never tearing from yours, Calum watched as your lips moved along with the words which he continued to sing, the lyrics being lost in the springtime air as they fell from your lips in a peaceful breath with no volume unlike him. You both kept smiling as Calum reached the end of the song, fingers plucking the melodic chords with ease as he played the final few notes and allowed for his hands to fall against the strings with a final strum.

“I could get used to the sound of you playing in the morning again,” You let out a blissful sigh as you looked out at him. “I’ve missed it, and I think someone else has to.”

Calum chuckled as he stood to his feet, one hand grasping the neck of his guitar, while the other took a hold of the half-empty mug that he had placed on the floor earlier. Bare feet padding against the ground as he made his way back over to where you stood, one foot becoming perched on the step as he came to stand in front of you.

The golden sunlight bounced off him, the warm glow shining against his skin as he stood in the open air. He was a beautiful sight to see, a sight that made your heart sing almost as beautifully as he had done seconds before.

“I guess you could say I was inspired this morning, being in my favourite place with my favourite people,” He let out a soft laugh, his smile wide as he gazed down at you. You joined his eyes as they drifted further down, both sets of eyes falling to the sight of her as she continued to sleep soundly in your arms. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than right here.”

There was nothing like being at home, wrapped up in the home comforts that Calum had come to love. His home was his safe space, a place where he could be himself, a place to unwind after a long day, a place where he could find the happiness and beauty in the life that he had claimed for himself. It was a place unlike any other.

It was a place where he had those who mattered most. It was a place where he had everything he could ever want or need.

There was no place like home.

---

Tag List: @steviemae @elsysoza @treatallwithkindness @loveroflrh @another-lonely-heart @zhangyixingxing1 @devilatmydoor @karajaynetoday @ophelia-enthusiast @hoodhoran @lyss-xo @tpwkcth @mythicalamphitrite @hemmo1996-5sosvevo @maggiesupertramp @calpops (if it’s crossed out it means I couldn’t find your blog to tag you)

If you would like to be added to my tag list, please ask or fill out this form :)

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cheekygreenty · 3 years

Text

Little Witch - Part 12

the Darkling x Reader

The hour was late as the stars basked in the darkness and cold winter air. The fire roared in its hearth while your still steaming cup of sleep-aiding tea sat untouched on the small table. Your talk with Alina earlier was the cause of your unrest. You didn't know whether to feel sorry for her or be frustrated with her. She is a lovely girl, most pure and kind and quite literally the definition of sunshine, but something about her irked you and you hated it.

Maybe it was her somewhat unhealthy obsession with her friend, the tracker- Malyen Oretsev, or the sheer denial and lack of understanding of her position. Sure, Mal was the only thing that tied her to her old life, a sense of home, but he didn't belong anywhere near the Little Palace and posed a threat to Alina's true potential. She should understand that, no doubt it's been explained to her many times. She was no longer a random girl from the First Army or a Child of Keramzin, she was the Sun-Summoner and had to act the part.

But there was also a nagging feeling in you since your last words with Aleksander, the ones about the stag. From what you could gather, Alina definitely wasn't power-hungry, not yet anyway, and placing an antler anywhere on her would be against her wishes. You knew deep down that whatever he had planned would go far beyond just giving her an amplifier for her sake.

You sighed and moved around on the armchair again, trying to convince yourself those were the reasons you couldn't sleep, that Alina's position in this mess was why your mind wouldn't shut off, but who were you kidding, it was her and him. For starters, she called Aleksander by his name. The second the word left her mouth, your blood ran cold.

'Is he not here?' Alina looked to you from over her mug, eyes scanning the room.

'Who?'

'Aleksander, is he away at Kribirsk again?' Your smile faltered and your grip on your own mug loosened. But Alina waited for an answer.

'Oh umm, I don't know.' You did but the shock caused your mind to blank completely.

You had known Aleksander for years before he even told you his true name, you had to earn it. She spoke of her General with a fondness, at one point even speaking of him as if he were more than just her commanding officer.

'Do you miss the First Army Alina? I know you left friends behind, not just Mr.Oretsev.'

'I suppose I don't feel at home just yet, it's a lot to take in, this whole division of orders thing doesn't help either... But he assures me I am not alone, that I have an equal in the Palace.'

An equal?

The heat of the fire was doing nothing to calm down your rising rage. Apparently Aleksander was doing more talking with Alina than you'd thought, even sacrificing his own true name, one only spoken by you and his mother, for her to utter as if it was just another name. So what if you were in his chambers, making use of his office and sleeping in his bed, he clearly had his eyes on two prizes or maybe just one.

You felt sick now, be it from the heat or the anger, you got up and opened a window. The cold and dark night was a stark contrast to the licks of the flame. It made you feel at peace, but only momentarily. You heard voices outside, slowly growing louder. You rested your head against the wall, begging for one last moment of stillness, but alas the door was yanked open and his boots echoed throughout the room. You cursed yourself for deciding to spend another night in his quarters. You thought he'd be gone longer than just 4 days.

'I do hope you made yourself comfortable' His voice was as smooth as the kvas you had downed after Alina left. You wanted to turn around, but the anger was still there and all hell would break loose if you let your emotions run wild again.

'I did thank you. At least you have a desk'

'I'll get you one first thing in the morning'

'No need, I already requested one' Your voice was void of any emotion. Don't start a fight.

'Are you alright?'

'Just tired, being diplomatic is hard work' It sure was right now.

'Might I suggest actually getting into bed then?' His hand slowly came around your wrist and pulled you in the direction of the bedroom but ironically at the simple touch, your anger grew, when it usually has the opposite effect. You saw out of the corner of your eye that he had a genuine smile on his face, one that tended to make you melt but not now. You shrugged him off and walked in the direction of the door, leaving him utterly confused.

'Y/N what's going on.

'I'm tired, I'm going to bed' You tried so hard to act normal, not in any way pissed.

'Y/N look at me'

'Goodnight Aleksander' You couldn't help it, the mockery of his name just came out. There goes the diplomacy.

You heard him quickly walk towards you and tried to get to the door first to escape the tense atmosphere you created but he got there first, blocking your way.

'What?' You threw your hands up in exasperation not yet looking at him.

'Did something happen whilst I was away?'

'No'

'Then what is it'

'Nothing'

'Don't lie to me Y/N'

'Oh but it's okay for you to lie to me' Your eyes finally bore into his.

'Excuse me?' His expression read baffled; annoyed; pissed.

'Move away from the door Aleksander'

'No! You're going to be mature and have an actual conversation with me for once' He asked for it.

'Alright fine, Let's start with Alina''

'Y/N'

'I had a lovely little tea party with her today. Sweet thing. She loves to talk once you get her going. She told me a lot of fascinating stuff, including your name! How interesting don't you think.' Your voice was so cold it even made you shiver.

'I can explain'

'I'm not finished.' You felt that pull in you, that pull that comes before you put your fire or shadows to use but crammed it down with all your might. 'Her best friend hasn't been replying to any of her letters and I can recount there are many of them. Guess what I found in one of your drawers? They are all very poetic don't you think? I'm all for helping her adjust, but that's not help, that's manipulation Aleksander.'

'She won't let him go, It's dragging her down.' He said through gritted teeth.

'Dragging her down or away?' The double meaning in your words didn't go unnoticed by him.

'Y/N all I want to do is go to bed right now, I've had a long day, please.' His hand reached out for yours but you scoffed and moved away.

'You wanted to have this conversation, General, don't shy away when your actions are questioned.'

'Fine' He unblocked the door and crossed the room, throwing his cloak and kefta on the floor with a heavy thud. 'Is there anything else you wish to accuse me of Y/N dearest?'

'Look at you, so bitter but I haven't heard you deny any of it'

'You may go now if you like.' He picked up a decanter of whiskey and poured himself a generous glass

'Since when are you this childish Aleksander. Have I missed something in my 100-year absence?' You mocked.

'You left me with all of this' He gestured to the palace. '-That's what happened.'

'Don't turn this around on me, and I told you that wasn't a choice.'

'The Y/N I knew would have come back and not hid like a coward'

You stilled and waited for any sign of apology, but it never came. He meant it even though he knew how much such a simple statement would hurt you. You turned slowly and walked to the door.

'While I'm gone, at least have the common decency to change the sheets before you bring Alina in here' you shut it loudly behind you and heard the breaking of the glass, no doubt thrown at the door as you were leaving.

What a day.

Taglist

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @patdsinner33 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl @exo-1204 @houseofdupree @oberonpascal @eireduchess

Ok so idk if people can see this but I posted this like a week ago and apparently nobody seen it so here it is!!!!

Part 13

Here's my masterlist!!

#shadow and bone #grisha #imagine #the darkling #the darkling x reader #alexander #alexander morozova #ben barnes #fanfic #alina starkov #Alexander morozova x reader #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan #keftas

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weasleygirl7 · 3 years

Note

I saw that imagines are open, may I ask a Lokixreader? Remember when Odin appears in a vision/mind of Thor in Thor Ragnarok, his ghost? Well that thing but with Loki after the 5 years of his death and days before the Avengers goes to search the infinity stones. YN is depressed, and in her dream/vison she thinks her husband is alive, that is real his presence but Loki says she should live her life and that he always loved her(my mind full of OST Thor 2-Deliverance mod romatinc).This is long,sorry

Hello Anon! Sorry this took so long, I have not been able to get a moment of peace until now!

Petals (Loki x reader)

Takes place in endgame and A LOT of angst... (TW: mentions of death)

The hinges groaned in protest as you pushed open the door with the palm of your hand, a heavy sigh leaving your lips. The room was just as it had been the last time you had seen it, it seemed Tony really was the sentimental type. Things were freshly dusted and the bed newly made, but walking into felt as if you had been transported back- back to a time when things weren’t so dark, when you weren’t so alone.

You kicked off your shoes and padded softly over to the dresser, as if any movement might cause the landscape in front of you to fade away to mere memory, as if the wrong step could send you spiraling back to the present.

A heavy feeling settled in your stomach as you took in the room around you, the photos on the dresser, the once undying flowers in the vase brittle and faded, the bed made for two… You picked up the flower vase and held it close, as if willing it to once again provide that sweet smell you loved so dearly. That scent had faded as had the once brilliant colors, faded as the magic that had kept them alive had faded from this world 5 years ago.

You squeezed your eyes shut to blink back the tears. 5 years, 5 years you had been alone on this earth. 5 years since Loki had been slaughtered, since the people of Asgard had been slaughtered, since half the universe had been slaughtered, since Thor fell into a trance you could not wake him from, since you had lost everything.

How unfair this world was. The next morning you would be embarking on a journey to attempt to reverse the damage wrought by the titan Thanos. You could see the hope filling the hearts of the others, the hope of a better tomorrow. No such hope found a home in your heart. Even if you succeeded, there would be no bringing back Loki. He had not vanished in the blip, he would not reappear. A bitter laugh sounded from your lips as you slammed the vase back on the dresser, not caring if you shattered the glass and crushed the flowers into oblivion.

Instead, you were met with petals soft and fragrant and bright and the vase incredulously unbroken. Freezing in place, you heard a chuckle you would always recognize.

“Well, darling, any harder and you would have broken that lovely vase.”

Frantically you spun yourself around, a smile overtaking your face as you took in the view. Loki, alive and grinning his typical grin sat perched on the end of your bed. The bed you had both once shared. The bed you had laid alone in until you could stand it no longer. Until you had fled as far as you could.

“Loki? How? You’r-“ Rushing forward, he cut you off with a gentle hand to your cheek as you fell to your knees before him. You placed your hand over his own and saw tears blur your vision.

“Shhh, love,” He softly brushed the tears from your cheek with his thumb, the warmth of his hand seemingly reawakening your body, sending shockwaves to your very toes. “I can’t stay long.”

“Stay? What do you mean— you’re here! You’re- You’re alive! I don’t-“ You shook your head frantically. “No, no… I can’t lose you again, no, please…” You moved your hands and reached up to cup his face, oh his beautiful face. His eyes were so clear and alive and brimming with love.

“It’s not something either of us can control,” His eyes searched your own until your gaze remained focused on him, until he could pull you from your own thoughts and mind. “None of it was something either of us could control,” he moved your hands down to his shoulders. “You can’t keep in your head… living in the past. That was always something I did, you know. Look at this pot calling the kettle black, hmm?” He laughed slightly and you nodded, your own small laugh leaving your lips. “There is it, I’ve missed that laugh. Why don’t you laugh anymore? Surely not because of me?”

“You’re gone!” Your voice had risen an octave or two in panic. He was gone, he was here but he was gone and he said himself he was leaving again soon. Your eyes scanned his face, trying desperately to etch it into a memory that would never fade, trying to hold onto every feelings of his body, the sound of his voice, his heartbeat… “You’re gone and I’m alone.” Your voice broke and you swallowed back tears.

“Nonsense,” he shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Alone, honestly! I always thought you were the smarter one, my love.” His hand once again found its place on your cheek, the other one squeezing your arm tightly. “You have your friends-your family, for Odin-sake you have my brother for all he’s worth, and,” he paused and released your arm, moving instead to place his hand gently on your chest above your heart. “You have me. Always. I shall not leave you, I thought that was made clear in our vows.”

You drew in a heavy breath and met his gaze once more. “It’s not the same-“

Once more he cut you off, and had it been 5 years ago you would have chided him endlessly for not letting you finish your thoughts, but now you would give everything for just 5 more minutes with him, interruptions or not.

“I need you to live for me,” His voice was barely above a whisper, and you clutched onto his shirt as if your life depended on it. “I cannot stay, but I cannot leave without your word that you will live for me.”

“If I refuse to give my word, will you remain by my side?” You titled forward until your forehead rested against his own, attempting to breath him in deeply.

“What a mischievous thought,” he huffed a laugh and closed his eyes as yours fluttered shut, “but you know I cannot.”

Opening your eyes once more and pulling back slightly, you let out a heavy sigh. “I had to try.”

“I would expect nothing less from the wife of the god of mischief.”

“I will try to live, for you and only you,” you grabbed his face and pulled him in for a searing kiss, a goodbye you had been unable to have and poured every emotion into it, all your love and grief and he matched you with his own.

Loki pulled back just enough to whisper gently against your lips, his final piece before he had to leave, “I love you. Always.”

Then he was gone.

A glance behind you showed the flowers that had returned to life remained alive once more, and maybe, you could too.

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solarwonux · 3 years

Text

Minghao x f!reader drabble

w.c: 2.8k

warnings: angst, slight mention of not eating, minghao be an asshole sometimes

note: I’ve had this one collecting dust in the docs so I decided to upload it today, it was meant to be part of a bigger fic but I decided to not continue though who knows it might be referenced later on in a different fic. Enjoy and let me know your thoughts.xx

Also I’m changing my schedule around a little. So instead of me posting Mon, Weds, Fri, I will be posting Mon, Thurs, Fri. You can find more info on Navi

drabble game || masterlist

There were sides of Minghao that unfortunately weren’t reserved for you, except for one. The one you hated the most and the one you wished you could stray as far away from. The side that received you with a frown and a bitter cold glare. The side that spoke to you in short sentences, a sour tone that would weave its way through his voice like vines whenever he spoke to you. It sent shivers down your spine and not the good kind. It was the side that you couldn’t break through to get to the side that was reserved for the people he loved and cared about most in the world. And you weren’t one of those people.

Maybe this was the way the universe decided to punish you. A punishment you wholeheartedly thought you didn’t deserve because you were tied at your feet with no way out. When you had been matched with Minghao by the System it was either you marry or die. And of course, selfishly you choose to live. You knew he resented you for it, but in the year and a half that you two were officially married, you had secretly seen the warmth that oozed out of his pores. You saw the wide smile that would light up the room whenever darkness poured in. His laugh sounded like a sweet melody that you would never get tired of listening and just his presence made you feel like home.

Minghao was a gift, the purest form of art, a being so powerful you swore he would restore the peace in the world. He could resent you, hate you all he wanted, look at you with an overwhelming amount of venom in his eyes. And you’d let him, you could never let yourself regret your final decision because he deserved to live.

Sighing deeply, you pushed yourself off the elevator walls watching as the hallway to your apartment came into view. This was the part you hated most about your day. It wasn’t the part where you woke up alone, it wasn’t the part where you had to go to work and it wasn’t the hour and a half walk home. It was the short walk from the elevator to your apartment. It never failed to stretch out miles as your heart caught itself in your throat because behind that closed door you weren’t sure what you’d encounter.

Sometimes it would be a quiet Minghao , sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table with his headphones on. His studio set up scattered all over, a notebook and his unlocked phone next to him. Sometimes it was him quietly sitting at the coffee table eating take out, sometimes it was him on his phone arguing with his mother as he shot piercing glares at you, probably wishing you weren’t alive. And other times it was a dark and cold apartment, nothing out of place. The silence creeping underneath the floorboards, reigning, occupying its throne in between the walls as it desperately tried to push the two of you out.

For some reason that was the apartment you always found yourself hoping for whenever you stopped in front of your door. Your hand gripping the doorknob tightly every night that it had started getting loose.

This was a routine by now. You’d put the key in the key lock, turn it until you heard it unlock. Then you’d close your eyes, slowly count ten Mississippi’s, proceed to give yourself a pep talk and then finally biting the bullet and opening the door. Anxiety rushed through you quickly when you saw what was waiting for you behind the door, Minghao on the couch typing quickly on his phone, while the TV beamed with life in front of him. Lighting up the dark living room with undertones of blue.

“I’m home.” You spoke, a shake in your voice making you wish you were stronger. The door clicked behind you, signaling there would be no way out until tomorrow morning so you might as well bite your tongue and deal with anything you’d encounter tonight.

“Welcome, I ordered food but wasn’t sure if you wanted any.” He shrugged, locking his phone and setting it by his side. He crossed his arms in front of him and turned his attention to the TV.

“It’s fine I’m not hungry anyway.” You took off your shoes by Minghao’s worn out ones. The hunger swirled inside of you, but you pushed it aside, telling yourself that you’d find something to eat once he was asleep in the guest bedroom that by now had become his room. “Mhm, you are eating right?” He said a hint of concern in the back of his throat, but that could’ve been your mind playing games on you. Though the question had caught you off guard and you weren’t sure how to answer without lying because in truth for a while now your appetite had severely gone down.

“I am, had a big lunch with one of my coworkers.” Minghao nodded at your answer, finally turning to face you, furrowing his eyebrows. You tried to ignore his gaze, relax your body as much as you could and placed your bag down on one of the highchairs in front of the kitchen island. “My family’s coming over tomorrow, my mom wants to cook dinner…you don’t have to be here if you don’t want to.” He blurted out the last part, hollowing out the part of your heart that was reserved for him. You loved Minghao ’s family as much as you loved him, but unlike him they had been very welcoming of you. Embraced you with open arms and you found comfort knowing that at least a part of him loved you.

“I’ll be there.” You whispered, shrugging off your coat and placing it on the back of the chair. “I have a day off tomorrow so I can clean up around here before they come over…I mean if that’s fine with you and all, I don’t want to make things uncomfortable.”

“Do whatever you want.” He spat out leaning back on the couch. His tone returning to the one you were used to hearing and you knew you had overstayed your welcome in the living room. “Right, I’m going to bed then.” You nodded walking past him and straight to your room, closing the door behind you quickly and resting your back against it. You breathed out a sad sigh of relief feeling the tears build up behind your eyelids, the hunger gnawing its way through your stomach ripping it to shreds. As well as your need for some sort of comfort, as you came to your first realization of the night. Just like it washed over you every single night and for once you wished you didn’t feel so alone, when the person that was supposed to love you stood on the other side not caring.

Oddly there was a side of you that loved Minghao and maybe it was the side that kept holding onto the hope you first felt when you were given the news. Or maybe it was the image of him that you created in your head from all the fragments of light he let out whenever he thought you weren’t looking. But you loved him, that was something you were confident in because you saw him for who he was, flaws and all when the two of you weren’t alone.

“Fuck.” You pushed yourself off your door throwing yourself on your unmade made and grabbing the turtle stuffed animal you slept with every night. It brought you a small sense of comfort and any comfort you could get you would grab and indulge in it blissfully. It was small and useless in the long run.

You buried your head into the head of the stuffed animal, finally letting the dam loose and the sobs came in full throttle. Thankfully the TV in the living room was loud enough to muffle your sounds. It wouldn’t matter if he could hear you anyway because you knew he wouldn’t be running into your room like a knight in shining armor and save you from yourself. He just didn’t care and that was the second realization you would have every night. Each time you did, it sent a jab through your body, cracking the little wall that kept the small sliver of light you held onto dearly. Each night though you felt it flicker slowly losing its innocent glow. Sometimes you’d wonder when the light would finally die out, when the numbness would finally overtake your body and you could go on with life without feeling like you were worthless. Without feeling anything.

“Can I come in?” You sat up on your bed at lightning speed. Minghao ’s soft voice sounding from the other side of your door. A knock following in between syllables. Your breathing sped up and you brought your hands up to your cheeks slapping your tears away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of him seeing you in this state. “U-Um yeah.” You spoke moving to rest against the headboard of your bed, grabbing your laptop on your bedside table and opening it to make it seem like you were doing something other than crying.

“I brought you chicken as I couldn’t finish it all.” He walked in, a styrofoam container in his left hand. His aura took over the air in your room and you felt as if you were suffocating. You watched as he slowly took in your room and your face heating up as you remembered the untidy state of your room. His eyes lingering on the wall of polaroid’s behind your even messier desk.

The girl in those pictures, the one whose smile reached her eyes and laughed still lingered in the small cracks on the walls of your room was someone that was unknown to you now. On days when you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of bed you looked at her as a sign of motivation. Telling yourself that that person was still within you and that she would come back you just had to fight through whatever you were going through. At the end of the day she always came back.

“Oh, I’m not hungry.” You closed your laptop and set it aside, the forgotten google tab opened waiting to be used. “I can have it for lunch tomorrow though.” You brought your knees up to your chest and wrapped your arms around them. To avoid his curious gaze, you looked out the window, the moonlight shining down at the skyline. You wondered if they were at peace unlike you.

“Why do you cry every night?” Minghao blurted out. He had placed the container on your desk and sat down on the foot of your bed. His back turned to you. The question had caught you off guard as you searched through the files in your brain in order to come up with an excuse. Yet, you came out unsuccessful and decided to just finally confess to him. You had nothing left to lose. “I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you?” You choked out biting your lip to keep the sob that threatened to spill locked away in the back of your throat.

“You can’t love…you barely know me.” He turned to face you and for the first time in a long time you couldn’t read the emotion that was playing against his features.

“Maybe I don’t love the person I’m faced with everyday, but I do love the person I see whenever you let your guard down around your friends and family.”

“But aren’t you tired of all of this? He raised an eyebrow, lifting his palm up and signaling all around the room as if the extra gesture would help prove his point.

“Exhausted.” You breathed out your shoulders falling as you felt yourself fall apart little by little in front of him. “Then why not hate me?” Minghao brought his legs up to your bed and crossed them underneath him. This was the longest the two of you had spoken or been in each other’s presence and although it was suffocating there was a small ring of light that lingered between the two of you.

“Because as much as I want to sometimes, I can’t bring myself to hate someone that’s hurting inside as well.”

The deafening silence that the two of you had grown accustomed to entangling itself in the warmth that was lingering above the two of you now. Somehow bringing the two of you a sense of comfort in the midst of this confusing situation you found yourselves in. Although you could feel like you could breathe again, the question that still kept you up at night stayed put in the back of your throat waiting to finally be let out into the world. For months you had pushed it back, deciding you already knew the answer to it. But as you sat in front of Minghao , his soft eyes dancing between your puffy ones you weren’t sure anymore. So, you put your preconceived notions aside as well as your pride and opened your mouth, letting the question run out to freedom. Your heart raced as you anticipated his answer.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you, truthfully I don’t think I could ever hate you.”

“Then why can’t you love me back?” You whispered, shutting your eyes. Your hold on your legs getting tighter.

“Because I can’t bring myself to do so no matter how hard I want to sometimes, especially when I listen to you cry every night. I wish…I want to set everything aside and hold you. I want to make you feel less alone…but I can’t.” Minghao let out a frustrated sign running his hands through his hair and tugging at his roots in desperation. The sight made your heart wrench. You wanted to reach over and hug him, give him the comfort you craved.

“W-Why?”

“I feel guilty.” He nodded resting his forearms against his knees, finally breaking his eye contact with you. Searching your room rapidly for another point of focus and finally settling on the humidifier on your bedside table. “I feel guilty because before I met you, I had chosen to live, not knowing that I would be the reason why your light would start to fade as the days went by.”

Without a second thought you let go of your legs, maneuvering yourself around your bed and wrapped your arms around him tightly. Finally breaking the barrier that silently lingered between the two of you.

You buried your face into his neck letting your tears run freely for the second time that night. Though this time instead of feeling the loneliness you had felt earlier, you felt a sense of relief wash over you.

Minghao felt himself hesitate for a moment feeling overwhelmed as he felt your touch for the first time, not knowing he missed it. A thought he couldn’t explain because how was he missing something he had never had the pleasure of feeling. But he pushed it aside and hugged you back, letting the tears he had kept in for far too long out in the open. He wasn’t happy but he felt like he could be happy if this was what it felt like to finally have you in his arms. He held you tightly, gripping onto you and burying his nose in your hair taking in your scent, one he decided right then and there he would never grow tired of. The two of you basking in each other’s arms, your hearts racing against one another and it overwhelmed the two of you greatly.

“I know we have a lot of things to get through but I’m willing to start over if you are.” You whispered, removing your arms from his body and sitting back on your knees. You wiped your tears with the back of your hand, letting out a small laugh and shook your head in disbelief before holding your hand out for him to shake.

Minghao smiled widely, chuckling before taking your hand in his. The feeling was enough to send shivers up his spine. The good kind.

For the first time that night he had a realization. A secret that he would carry out to his grave, unless you prodded it out of him and with how things were going, he was sure that you would succeed at it too. But for now, he would keep it to himself and enjoy the way your touch felt against his skin and the way your smile was enough to have his heart beating out of time.

“I’m Minghao, your husband.”

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jasontoddiefor · 3 years

Text

Title: nothing to mourn or miss Ship: Poker pair Summary: The only thing connecting little Cornelia Walker to Tyki Mikk was the mop of dark hair. A year after his Master's letter had been sent to the Black Order, Allen Walker arrived at their Headquarters, carrying a newborn on his back. AN: I just want trans Allen fanfics. Let’s see where this fanfic will go!

Lavi’s greatest gift had always been his observation skills. Growing up on the streets (in a different city, under another name), he’d had to be clever and aware to ensure he wouldn’t starve to death or be killed. Bookman, of course, had taken the ability to a whole new level, ensuring that Lavi wouldn’t miss even a single detail. Lavi was pretty sure that if there was a way to keep from blinking for the rest of his life, Bookman would force him to learn that as well.

Regardless, his skill was why he knew Krory had to be in the next train wagon. It was the last possible option, given that the vampiric Exorcist hadn’t been in any of the others. The situation, once they found him, was pretty easy to break down. He’d gotten cheated out of his clothes and money by three traveling vagabonds and a sickly-looking child; tuberculosis if Lavi were to guess. They looked rough as if the gentleness was seldom shown to them. From their hands and posture, Lavi deduced they worked in the mines or a similar taxing job.

That was as far as Lavi got with his observation before another one took him by surprise.

“Allen!” the boy shouted and promptly threw himself at said young man.

Here was the thing about Allen Walker: He was lithe in build, small, but he knew how to present himself. Lavi looked at him and knew what he kept hidden, yet it was not a lie because everything about Allen Walker screamed that he was a young man. He’d never said a word about whether he’d learned from his deceased father or his Master, but Allen knew how to navigate society, which social cues to react to or ignore.

Allen often kept people at a distance to keep up appearances and live his life as he wanted. Lavi, personally, was a massive fan of invading people’s personal space. He’d learned to do so early for various reasons, and with time passing, Allen started to allow Lavi in his bubble. But always, he was careful, hesitating, bracing himself for interaction.

And yet, somehow, this protection was disregarded without a second thought. Allen wasn’t taken aback by the boy jumping him but reacted on instinct and caught the boy. Were the child smaller, Lavi would think it was because of Cornelia, but no, the boy was much older than Allen’s daughter.

And here it was, the second clue:

“Eeez!” Allen said. “What are you doing here?”

“Traveling to a new job!” Eeez replied in rapid-fire Portuguese that, had Lavi not spent a year in the country, he wouldn’t have been able to understand a word. “You’re pretty far from your usual roads,” Allen replied only and set the boy down again. “But I see, your cheating habits haven’t changed at all.”

“You’ve always been the worst cheat,” the man towards the right replied, causing the one on the outmost left to laugh in agreement.

The two seemed good-natured if a little tired. They were comfortable around Allen, studied him briefly as if to check he was doing well, eating enough or so. Anyone who knew Allen well enough to greet him so heartedly had to be aware of his metabolism and with this group struggling for money, it was no surprise they worried about food.

But it wasn’t quite the two men or the boy that drew Lavi’s attention.

No, it was the man in the middle.

Thick glasses obscured his eyes, but his hair was curly and dark, the kind that Lavi knew from experience was fun to run your hand through.

How well exactly did Allen Walker know this man and how much did he care to keep such large secrets?

“Are you going to join us, menino?” the man asked. “Your friend has lost a few things, I believe.”

Allen grinned triumphantly, but his hand twitched all the same, betraying his lie. He was nervous, shaken by this confrontation, and were he anyone else, words about little princesses in high towers, bright gray eyes looking up from the Branch Chief’s lap, and bets on milestones would soon spill out of his mouth.

“Allen,” Krory finally spoke up, still sniffling. “Do you know these men?”

“Yes,” Allen replied, shaking himself from stupor. “We traveled together for a while after Master Cross had dumped me. They’re friends.”

Just friends? Lavi wondered. From the looks of it, he was not the only one. The boy, Eeze, narrowed his eyes, glancing between Tyki and Allen. Whatever they had, it hadn’t been that casual. The result was currently crawling around HQ, after all.

“This is Momo, Crack, and Glasses in the middle—”

“You wound me.”

“Is Tyki Mikk.”

Tyki was not a name whose origin Lavi could place easily. He’d assumed that Cornelia had been picked because it was a fairly common British name and sounded well with the small family’s last name.

Cornelia Walker wasn’t even a year old yet, and thus Lavi quietly found himself doing the math. Cross’s letter had announced only Allen’s arrival and been dated about a year before Allen had actually managed to arrive at the Order. He knew that Lenalee thought Allen had been sent to the Order because of Cornelia, so she’d be safe while Allen killed Akuma.

Never mind that nobody expected Cross to be a capable guardian for a newborn. People had been fascinated enough with the fact he’d managed to raise a teenager.

The only thing connecting little Cornelia to Tyki Mikk was the mop of dark hair. Otherwise, she was entirely Allen’s baby, from the pale complexion to the eyes and… Before meeting this Tyki, Lavi had assumed that she had Allen’s nose, but it actually resembled Tyki’s more closely. Still following through with his conclusions, Lavi pretended to be shocked at Allen’s gambling skills, the way he won back Krory’s clothes and dignity before stripping his old friends of theirs.

“Royal Straight Flush,” Allen announced once more with a smile as the others tossed their cards, not at all angry, more amused.

“They’re used to this,” Eeez said, this time in English. It was accentuated but still pretty good. Lavi could hear the same kind of pitter-patter pronunciation Allen sometimes fell back on when he was careless or exhausted. He must have taught the boy how to speak the language. How curious, it spoke for longer exposure to Allen. This definitely added to Lavi’s growing suspicion that Allen hadn’t just taken the long way round to the Order.

As did the fond glances Allen couldn’t keep off his face.

He could have stayed with this group. They were obviously aware of Allen’s status, but they seemed to have no trouble with it. Without needing to pay off his Master’s debt, Allen could earn enough to settle down somewhere. If they stayed near a mining town, the group wouldn’t even have to break up or work in a different branch.

There’d be no little niece for Komui to fuss over or dress up in her father’s absence. The Order would have remained entirely unaware of Allen Walker’s presence until someday along the way, somebody would dig out the one letter Cross had hurriedly written. And by then, they’d have assumed that Allen Walker had died on his way to the Order. Despite the tension of Allen’s shoulder, he was obviously at ease with this group, was at home, whereas he still hadn’t settled completely at the Order.

He could have abandoned the Akuma for them, this odd broken little family, but he hadn’t. The Destroyer of Time had marched on, wrapped his new gift up in cuddly blankets and climbed up a mountain.

Perhaps Lavi should tell him of the Order’s gruesome history, its horrible present. Would the boy have chosen to take his daughter there if he knew what lingered behind the black walls? Lavi had no doubt that if someone else sat in Komui’s office, little Cornelia would be tested weekly for resonance with an Innocence piece given that her father was an Accommodator. Then again, that doll that acted as her babysitter had taken a liking to her and Lavi doubted it was just because of the sentience it possessed.

The train ride passed in relative peace despite the gambling with the miners talking of their travels and Allen returning with stories of his own, carefully modified to leave out any signs of Akuma or his daughter.

He had no intention of telling them.

Lavi’s job was to record history, not to teach it.

He didn’t have to tell them either. Most likely, this encounter would remain a footnote in Allen Walker’s biography.

The odd group had to leave the train before them, and their goodbyes were sweet and kind, warmer and lingering, a farewell that nobody wanted. Eeez hugged Allen once more and Momo and Crack both gave Allen a nudge and tousled his hair fondly.

When it came to Tyki, Lavi paid attention. Accommodator yet or not, someday Cornelia’s history might become relevant, and they’d need all the details.

“Take good care of yourself, menino,” Tyki said, making no move to embrace Allen, touch him in any way. How curious that he’d chosen distance when he so obviously wanted to reach for the opposite. Lavi had seen a hundred stories like this already, how bitter love like this must be.

At moments like this, Lavi was glad that he was forever exempt from such heartbreak.

“I’m not the one always on the road, running off doing odd jobs,” Allen countered with a soft smile, a joke that failed to hide any of the pain. “Take care of yourself as well.”

The group left the train, and it was only as the machine was already departing that Tyki tossed something at Allen, the same playing cards they’d used earlier. Lavi watched quietly as Allen looked through the cards until melancholy turned his lips upwards.

“Hearts this time,” Allen muttered under his breath, likely not meant to be picked up by Lavi’s ears.

He packed the cards into the pocket of his coat and wrapped it tightly around his body as if to keep out the imaginary cold. When Allen looked up, his eyes fixed on Lavi, he seemed torn between determination and desperation.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Allen said, or perhaps ordered. “Please.”

So it hadn’t gone unnoticed that Lavi had uncovered his little secret.

Checking that Krory was still out of earshot, busy carrying their luggage to this empty compartment, Lavi chose to engage. “Why not tell him?”

Allen shrugged, then smiled just a bit pained. “His world is different from ours. They don’t have much cash, so I wouldn’t dump a child on them, and it would be careless to ask Tyki, and the others by extension, to step into the nightmare that is our reality. It’s better this way.”

Lavi hummed in agreement, thinking on the report he’d make to Bookman. Allen Walker, despite his cheerful optimism, could be quite realistic, almost painfully so.

They didn’t tell the families of their Finders about the deceased either.

Ignorance, wounding as it might be, left you with nothing to mourn or miss.

(Later, bound to a chair, the Fourth Apostle screaming at him, Lavi would remember his past assessment and laugh at his naivete.)

#allen walker #tyki mikk #poker pair #dgm #lavi #d gray man #fanfic

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hollowandmerciless · 3 years

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So it was a love story after all

One of the things that has been said over the years about Attack on Titan is that it had no romance. Isayama, was the general consensus, didn’t write a love story. AOT is not about ships. It’s about the nature of humanity, about hatred, about racism and the will to survive. It’s got its roots in Norse mythology, in real life events from the recent past and a more ancient past. But love and romance, so everyone thought, never had a place in this story.

How wrong we all were.

As it turns out, Eren’s motivation for everything he did was always his eternal and undying love for Mikasa.

Here’s where I stumble.

I never saw any convincing signs of Eremika in this story. I didn’t like their dynamics in the first place – Eren seemed annoyed with her a lot of the time, or at best consider her his adopted sister – and what really rubbed me the wrong way during the entirety of the story was Mikasa’s unhealthy obsession with Eren. Yes, he saved her, and yes, she’s an Ackerman, who are known for their intense bonding to their host (although this was a false assumption as well, according to Zeke), but her obsession was unhealthy and annoying to the point that I was unable to see her character development or her actions.

Her looks didn’t make her special to me (contrary to a lot of male fans I encountered on social media and irl), to me she was just one of the characters, albeit a rather uninteresting one, so I wasn’t paying as much attention to her as they did – we all pay most attention to our favourites (which in my case are Eren and Levi and to a lesser extent Hanji and Connie), and as a result I may have been blind for any character development she had.

Maybe it’s because I’m a woman and I feel like she’s one of those poorly written -“the man is my only goal in life” -women. Women who in a story solely seem to exist as an appendage to the main character and have no life or will of their own. Eren and Mikasa were, in my opinion, never equals in this story.

I know many people do see Mikasa’s character development, and do see meaningful interactions between Eren and her, but I’m sorry, I can’t see them unless I use a microscope, and I think this is the main flaw in Isayama’s writing: with all the twists and foreshadowing (which I so thoroughly enjoyed), some hints he left are way too small, while some of his red herrings are too in your face to ignore.

It also feels like Isayama changed the ending too often and forgot about a lot of foreshadowings along the way.

This is why it feels that we’re left with so many plot holes – if you read closely, there aren’t many, but the red herrings were sprinkled so abundantly throughout the story that we may have expected way too much. The origins of the Ackermans, the importance of Historia’s’ baby and “who is the father”, Zeke’s presumed 4D chess and Eren’s 5D chess, the Underground cities as protection against the rumbling, what caused the titan forest trees to grow so large, what happened 854 years ago in the year 0, Reiner heavily being foreshadowed to become the new Helos, what is the Hallucigenia thing, where did it come from and how does it create titans, where did Ymir’s first titan come from if there was no one in PATHS yet to build it – we don’t need all these answers, but somehow Isayama made us believe there was more to this than there actually was, and that’s why many of us feel robbed of the ending we wanted or expected.

The Historia storyline bothers me the most. The dynamics between her and Eren were much more interesting and realistic than those between Mikasa and Eren. To begin with, they were equals. Whatever happened, they always had each other’s backs. So it made sense to me that Eren had at least something to do with her choice to have a baby, especially because he was so vocal against it. Instead, she too married a guy who hadn’t been particularly nice to her in the past and nothing of it had anything to do with Eren or his plans, or their shared memories of previous founders.

Parallels between OG Ymir and Historia seemed abundant, but apparently, in the end, we were supposed to see an essential parallel between Ymir and Mikasa. Her Stockholm-syndrome-love for the first King Fritz felt like a sort of deus ex machina (and yes, if you reread chapter 122 there were hints, but so scarce, so small, that they didn’t seem to hold much significance).

I find the fact that OG Ymir needed to see someone break loose from the clutches of obsessive love in front of her own eyes to finally break loose from her own love for Fritz a bit far-fetched, especially since I consider that this is what the entire story hinges on.

(Now we do understand why Isayama had Levi so severely wounded in chapter 114 (the explosion). Had he been fit, then he had most likely been the Ackerman who killed Eren (because this has been foreshadowed too, multiple times) – and that wasn’t supposed to happen. It had to be Mikasa, or else OG Ymir wouldn’t understand how to break loose from her bond.

Another thing that bothered me was Eren’s sudden confession of his love for Mikasa to Armin. Like I said, I found the Eremika dynamics particularly uninteresting, so this confession felt very unnatural and far-fetched to me – but, again, this is what the entire story is built upon.

He does what he does for them, specifically for her.

It’s actually kind of sad that some fan theories were better/more interesting than the canon ending, but Isayama is the creator of this story and we’ll have to accept his ending – I do know that the more I’ve been rereading the final chapter, the less it bothers me how the story wrapped up. I might even come to like it, and when I reread the full story (which I will certainly do, I LOVE this story) I’ll pay more attention to the small hints Isayama sprinkled between the lines for us about the love Eren felt for Mikasa, to see if his words in 139 will finally make sense to me.

For now, Eren’s motives don’t feel real or grounded. If he’d cried about the millions (billions?) of deaths he’d caused instead of about Mikasa, it would have made more sense in the grand scheme of things. He’d cry for the lives he’s taken, and for the realisation that it has all been in vain, because the ones he tried to protect so that they can live long and happy lives, will now be consumed with grief and survivor’s guilt.

Still, could any of this have gone differently?

No.

Eren was rightfully desperate when he, from behind the bars of his cell, yelled at Hanji if there was another way. Because there wasn’t.

The irony was that Eren always fought for freedom, but all his life he had been a slave to his own destiny. He was unable to change the future, and could only try to influence it. Or else, as Kruger said, this cycle would repeat itself, again and again.

All in all I feel there was more to this story than what we got, it could have gone deeper, more foreshadowing could have paid off instead of being a red herring.

A bittersweet ending

Levi surviving and finally getting closure with the knowledge that this was what all of his old SC friends died for, brought me to tears. And that smoke, was that the disappearing of his Ackerstrength?

The frame where he travels the world with his carers/adopted children Gabi and Falco and his new best friend Onyankopon (friend? lover? just look at that glance they share) made me so happy that this is now the desktop background of my laptop.

(I hope they’ll travel to the AOT equivalent of the UK so he can finally enjoy some decent black tea)

To me, at least this part was sweet. The rest: bitter, even the fates of the Alliance members. This is a story with an open ending. We don’t know if they’ll succeed on their peace mission, we don’t know what the Yaegerists will accomplish, we don’t know what the rest of the world will do; all options are open again, but maybe that is the point. Eren never meant to end the hatred, there’s no fighting the nature of humans. Erwin knew this already: mankind won’t stop fighting among themselves until there’s only one person left.

Eren’s goal was to end the titan era, and at the cost of his own life and that of 80% of humanity, he succeeded.

Learning that Eren, who held freedom in such high regards, was a slave to his own destiny all along was painful and ironic, but in a way he lives on as a bird, finally free, finally Vogel aus dem Käfig.

Thank you, Isayama.

#snk #aot #snk meta #eren yaeger #snk spoilers #snk 139 #snk 139 spoilers #mikasa ackerman #levi ackerman #eremika #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #aot 139 #long post

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arllenn · 3 years

Note

Hey there, I rarely check on Tumblr nowadays due to work and stuff but I've played Dragon Raja for a while now so if it's not too troubling, I would like to request a fic of MC giving Osho and the others a well deserved verbal smack down during the final showdown (the MC didn't blame the Gen siblings for what happened to them and managed to save Erii from Osho). Bonus if MC cut ties from everyone after the mission... Sorry, I'm a huge fan of angst.

Tags for this chapter: angst, violence, all bitter no sweet, respawn system gets abused for angst Tw: cannon typical violence, graphic-ish descriptions of death, blood, suicidal thoughts and almost actions, wounds and the like

You’re clutching yourself as you shake knees getting weaker by the second, hiccuping and heaving the flood of tears that decorates both your face and the street under you with the weight of your emotions are the only constant for you. You’re drowning in your own emotions, phantom pains of all of your recent deaths and revivals clawing at you demanding your attention, demanding your time. You’re hugging yourself trying to mimic the comforting action that you remember from your childhood. “Why isn’t it working.” You choke out sobbing harder as you grip your arms. It’s too tight yet not tight enough, your limbs responding to your pleas is a sign that you’re still alive yes, but, but this is, this isn’t what you want.... this isn’t what you want at all. Your nails are far sharper than you remember them they tore through the flesh of your arms lightly. You could feel Herzog’s claws ripping through your flesh as well, everything hurt, you want to go home, you want to go home, you want to go home.....

But you can’t. Everyone was dead, at one point Caesar had said that Black Swan Bay had sunken, so the actual land was probably gone too, nothing left to remember that place but you Zero and Z. God you wanted to see them right now, the area on your head that he had patted earlier seemed warm giving you a small amount of comfort but also dealing even more damage to your psyche. You wanted to go back to those warm days in your childhood when none of this was known to you. When you weren't running around matchmaking and doing everyone else's work while also getting nothing in return, not a thanks, not even a small indirect amount of appreciation or encouragement. Your legs buckled under you your arms reching out as if to grab onto something to stop you from falling. Your knees met with the ground violently scraping at the skin there. You can't breathe, you can't breathe, youcantbreatheyoucantbreatheyoucantbreatheyoucantbreathe, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, ithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurts, why is he doing this to you didn't he love you? That man, Herzog, had raised you. You had spent so much time at that orphanage, you were so happy. So why. whywhywhywhywhyhwhywhy. You recalled warm winter nights spent in front of the fireplace curled up with Zero on one side and Z on the other.

You remembered one day specifically. Back then you lot were young, so, so, so, young. You chuckled choking on your tears, that day Z and you had spent a solid hour arguing over who would run over to get Zero, that day it had started raining, then the rain had turned to hail mid hide and seek game. Z had found you moments before the storm started. You two ended up huddled under the ice bridge. The orphanage in sight but seeming miles away due to the storm. Zero had been caught first and had gone back to the courtyard as per the rules so she was probably fine. You needed one of you to go and get her so that she could bring back an umbrella for the other. Then you had heard it, the sound of thunder wolves nearby. Then Z, with no hesitation had, scooped you up put your head under one of the flaps or his jacket and ran back to the cottages. All while you could hear the heavy ‘thunk thunk thunk’ of wolf paws behind you. Looking back on it now those wolves were probably the result of Herzog’s experiments and not a naturally occurring species. The souring of your childhood memory made bile rise in your throat, the thought of looking at your early life through that lens rather than just christmas day made you want to scream. Z and Zero were so different from your seniors. If you had been with any of them back then you knew for a fact that they would’ve sent you to deal with the wolves, only coming in when you were a hairs breath away from dying.

But that hadn’t save you before, you can’t count how many times you’ve died sense meeting them. From your flesh being torn from your bones by death servitors to bleeding out in some nameless alleyway after being shot by hydra’s soldiers. You had also drowned at one point, that death had been the worst. You remembered clawing at the water begging for the chance to live once again, you remembered feeling your legs tear off after the submarine had exploded, you remembered reaching your mangled arms out, out, out towards the light that came from the surface of the water. You remember feeling the water force itself down your throat and into your lungs, it burns, it hurts, it burns, it hurts. You had been seeing flashes of reality as well as the last time you ended up in cold waters like those. It didn’t matter because in the end you had died. It never matters how hard you try, how many times you die, because you always end up failing.

You lay on the sidewalk screaming, there was no one nearby nor anything that you could hear other than the pounding of rain on the sidewalk and your own sobbing. Your hand burned with the new blood that flowed inside you. Your mind burned with the scars of the past that it never got to address, your heart burned with the open wounds this mission had left you with. You wanted to die right here, sink away into nothingness. Stay in the room with the grand piano and flowing waters. No one could bother you there, no one could make you do meaningless tasks without your say, there was no matchmaking, no pointless errands, no suicide missions, there was nobody but yourself there, just you, just you. Luminous wouldn’t be there to make you do his work, he wouldn’t be there swearing to be by your side to help you while simultaneously doing nothing at best and dragging you down at worst. There wouldn’t be a Caesar there to send you on every reconnaissance mission with no backup and no direction. Johann wouldn’t be there to demand information on your past like he had even earned the right to know it, like he didn’t need to earn that right because it should just be given to him. Just you in a place where no one could hurt you.

You looked up from the ground that you had been staring at, bringing your hands up to your neck you squeezed. It wouldn’t work in terms of killing you, you knew that, but it worked as an easy substitute, feeling the pressure of your own hands on your neck, the shortness if not complete lack of breath, the light headed feeling, it served as a less drastic solution for now.

“It’s great to see you all safe and sound!” Eva’s voice cut through the momentary peace that you had found, your hands reflexively letting go of your neck.

“Safe and sound?!” You repeated in disbelief, “What part of any of me seems to be safe and sound?” It felt like she was mocking you. The memories of Herzog’s claws slicing through your spine, through every part of you, flashed then the words ‘It’s great to see you all safe and sound!’ Played over them, those words were the last thing you wanted to hear right now. Why,why,why,why,why is your pain always ignored like this? Why is it always your job to make everything right? You can’t do this anymore! You won’t do this anymore.

Bringing your fist up you smashed at your communicator, “Cassell- will...turn th-this into- into no-nothing more th-th-th-then a dream for every- every- everyone” Eva’s voice though distorted still managed to snake its way out of the thing despite all the damage you had done to it.

"AGH, SHUT UP!" You yell slamming your fist down harder and harder, each time screaming, begging for her to "JUST SHUT UP" You're crying even harder now. The glass that made up the outer layer of the screen. The rest of her words came out broken and jumbled, and even if they hadn't been due to the damage your screaming and shouting would've drowned it out anyways. "STOP. TALKING. JUST. SHUT. UP."

"Caesar helping you to-to-to destroy- criminal underworld.... true story- believe." Your fist paused midair at those words. Caesar had helped to destroy the criminal underworld? That was the story that they were going with? Not even the whole team, just Caesar what kind of absolute bullshit was that. You had done 100 times more then the supposed hero of the story, hell Luminous had done more, fucking Erii had done more. So where did they get off on this- this- you didn't even have a word for it it was so stupid, so stupidly infuriating. Herzog had said that the people from Cassell had experimented on you, and while he wasn't one to be trusted you sure do feel so fucking dumb for defending them. At least Herzog had the common decency to put up an air of kindness. These people just treated you like a convenient tool, something to be used and dealt with as they pleased. Something that didn't need thanks or praise or a break because it was an object meant to be used and thrown away as they saw fit. "Re-re-re-return to takamagahara to say-say-say-say-saysay goodbye-bye-bye to-" Your fist swung down with overwhelming strength shattering the communicator completely. Broken pieces of metal and glass embedded themselves in your hand bringing a fiery pain that slowly destroyed all of you in its wake. You fell even further onto the concrete clutching your hands one in the other relishing a bit sickly in the pain that it brought. Your right palm glowed with the same light it first had when you had accepted Erii's blood. Then it started rejecting the pieces of metal and glass in both of your hands. Slowly pushing them out and healing the cuts instantly once they were out.

Chuckling you flipped over your hands looking at both perfectly healed sides. It was like you had never been hurt in the first place. You marvled at them, twisting them over and over again, bringing them to your neck once again you smiled and closed your eyes. You had no idea what you were. Had you always been like this? An undying freak with special powers? Had Herzog's experiments done this to you? It was obvious that your new healing ability came from Erii's and the light king's combined blood but what about everything else? Had you been born this way? Was it Herzog's half baked evolution pills? Had Cassell truly experimented on you? Z said you had the capability to become a dragon lord now, but what did that mean? What did that make you? Your chuckles turned into full of peels of laughter, your cheeks stinging at the feeling of both the semi dried tear tracks being pulled at as well as the force of your laughter. The peels of laughter soon mixed with pained sobs and you were once again back to crying. You weren't going to put up with this anymore. Dropping your hands you slowly stood up like a puppet on strings. Walking at a slow pace one second in between each step you started walking.

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

Anjou is in one of the VIP rooms with a man dressed like a pastor. You don't care what they're talking about, stepping in front of the pastor you look over at him. He takes steps back on his own, unprompted, it's a first but then again you suppose that you probably look like the walking dead, and in a way you were, not to mention that you also felt like it. A lukewarm apathetic haze settled over your emotions as you looked down at Anjou. He's the second person you met after waking up, he's the whole reason you, a freshman at his wacky school that you hadn't even been asked if you wanted to join, were on this mission. How stupid is he? He had sent you, a person who had what he described as 'little control' over your extra skill and who had just woken up after a freeze bath in Siberia on this mission, an SS ranked one that he was hesitant to even send his best students on already. So why had he chosen you? Why did you have to die over and over for a cause you didn't understand and people you don't know. "Freshman." he nodded as though prompting you to speak. He never broke eye contact or even showed any emotions other than a laid back and relaxed expression. It pisses you off. Why is this old dingbat relaxing, kicking back and enjoying his time while your'e such a mess? He gestures for the priest to leave and he does. Leaning forward elbows on his knees he looks you up and down before going back to making eye contact. "What has you so worked up?"

You want to cry, its the closest you've gotten to an 'are you ok' sense waking up but at the same time you wanted no part of a wellness check led by the man in front of you. "Herzog said that Cassell College experimented on me. Is that true?" You can almost make out a hint of surprise in his eyes before he starts laughing. You bight your lips pulling them into your mouth in a desperate attempt to hold back your anger wanting to get your answer first before you rip him a new one.

"Goodness no, why would you ever believe anything that old snake had to say, and here I thought you were a once in a decade genius. I suppose that title still belongs to Johann then." You ball your hands into fists. Its more than obvious that he's making light of the situation. Didn't he know that you had been raised in Black Swan Bay? Didn't he know that Herzog, a man who you had trusted, had experimented on you? Is he incapable of connecting the dots between your trauma and your current situation combined with Herzog's words? No he did know, he knew and he still chose to make light of everything you had gone through. Insinuating if not blatantly saying that you were an idiot for believing that what happened to you once could happen again. Slamming your hand down on the table you levied on him the worst glare you could, the burning behind your eyes letting you know that you probably looked less menacing then you wanted to.

"Where the fuck do you get off saying something like that to me." It's phrased as a question but its really not. It's a challenge for Anjou to defend his words, one he unfortunately takes you up on.

"I understand that this whole mission and especially today has been taxing on your team but that doesn't mean you should and can snap at everyone like that freshman. Take sometime to cool off, go outside and talk to your seniors, hopefully they'll be able to reach you in ways I cannot." He's getting up to leave after his mini lecture, essentially passing you off to be someone else's problem but you wont let him leave that easily. Your hand grabs onto his forearm stopping him in his tracks. For a millisecond you consider punching him. Beating him over the head with one of the glasses on the table, but the part of your brain that still, despite everything, says that you ca't do that to him because he had pulled you out of Siberia's ice who knows how long ago says not to. And it wins.

"I'm not going to apologize for my language-" He cuts you off with a tut of his tongue, now you have no regrets for the words you planned on saying next. Letting go of his arm you continued. "I'm entitled to be angry when an asshole says asshole things. And I'm allowed to curse said asshole out however much I want." You step in front of the exit crossing your arms, you catch a momentary glimpse of your face in one of the metal outlinings of the wall as you do. You truly do look dead, eyes lifeless and lightless, face twisted into a painfully weak version of the you that you wanted to portray. You know that in this position you run the risk of your conversation leaking out of the room but honestly you don't care, like at all. At this point you want to just scream and cry your emotions out. But you can't because you don't want to, you don't want to be any weaker in front of anyone than you already are.

"Freshman-"

"I was raised by Dr. Herzog for so so many years and the whole time he was experimenting on me and everyone I knew. And-and-and you expect me to just trust you when you say that you didn't do anything. You expect me to rule that out as a possibility when you've given me no reason to, not in terms of character or proof. So why would you say that me believing that random strangers who I've known for less then a month and who I, if I'm being honest don't trust, experimenting on me is a dumb fear?" You clutch at your heart bunching up the cloth that protects it. "I just- do you see why thats dumb? Do you see why it makes no sense to me? One day I'm celebrating christmas as normal with my friends the next minute I'm smacked in the face with the fact that the man that I considered a father," you gag a bit on the word, "has been experimenting on me and everyone that I love, that he's been killing all of us as soon as we turn 18 because we wont survive to 22 because of his experiments? Finding out that he thought of us, children he had been raising for years as nothing more then science experiments who had outlived their uses. Do you have any idea how much that fucking hurt? I had to watch everyone die around me while I wasn't able to do anything! Zero even sacrificed her life to save me and I still ended up dying so many times anyways." You're clutching at yourself again, seeking comfort in the only arms that you can trust right now, your own. You're glaring down at the floor trying to blink the tears away. It doesn't work. You're basically two steps away from dry heaving and sobbing. Anjou reaches out his hand, most likely to guide you to sit down but you slap it away. "Don't fucking touch me. You sent me, a freshman who hadn't really even enrolled in your school or been given the choice to do so on a suicide mission with other students and no adult supervision from the college itself. I've died so many times sense waking up. It always hurts, it's never been painless, I've never been thanked and yet you expect me to just what- put my blind trust into you? I spent more time around Chime then I did you and he spent half of the time as Ruri Kazama."

'"Freshman you're hyperventilating you need to calm down."

"I WONT CALM DOWN" You're yelling now, its not the same kind of painful shouting that you had done earlier on the street, this is loud as well yes, but its from a frustrated sadness rather than a devastated anger. "Why did it have to be me? Weren't there other students you could've sent? Adults? Why did it have to be me? You had no reason to trust that I wouldn't kill the others. I had justwoken up and you decided that I was your best choice? You didn't tell me anything you just threw terms out and expected me to understand. You didn't even give me time alone to breathe let alone ask questions." Your chest is tight, you can feel each of your deaths, piercing pain of claws slicing through flesh, the burning heat of bullets, the singeing of fire, being torn to pieces. You can feel it all and it all hurts so much. You want it to stop, you need it to stop. You don't want to hear these people talk like they're your friends like they care anymore. It's all too much, you're almost sobbing now, curling in on yourself to try and mitigate any pain that may come.

"Newbie whats-"

You turn eyes catching onto Caesar, Johann, Luminous and Finger standing behind you. When did they get here, how much did they hear. It burns and it burns devouring everything in sight. All the memories that you have with them that you've been trying to view in a happy light, all of them crumble to the ground in front of you the moment you see them. "SHUT UP, USE MY NAME FOR ONCE WILL YOU?! NEWBIE DO THIS, FRESHMAN DO THAT, YOU HAVE NEVER EVEN ONCE USED MY NAME!" Full on sobbing you bulldoze through every thought that comes to mind yelling them out at the people surrounding you. "YOU'VE NEVER ONCE ASKED ME IF I WAS OK. YOU;VE NEVER ONCE SENT ANYONE WITH ME WHEN YOU SEND ME ON THOSE STUPID SUICIDE MISSIONS. I'M A FRESHMAN A NEWBIE YOU HAD NO REASON TO TRUST ME WITH ANY OF THIS. WHAT WOU;LD'VE HAPPENED IF I HAD DIED AND STAYED DEAD? WHAT WOULD'VE HAPPENED IF I HAD BEEN CAPTURED? WHAT THEN?" You clutch onto yourself harder, seeking even the smallest bit of comfort from the feeling. Your voice has lowered in volume, you no longer have the emotional or physical strength to do anything other than keep your voice above a whisper. "Do you lot remember when Ruri had specifically said that even two of us couldn't handle Herzog alone? And yet you still thought that it would be a good idea to send me up alone, acting like you were tough for taking care of the death servitors at the entrance." You sigh, there are so many other examples you could go through but you also don't want to be here any longer. "What about you Luminous? I get that you had to watch Erii, but making me do everything and anything you could think of by myself while knowing that Johann and Caesar were constantly sending me on missions as well? You even complained that I took too long to do things. Maybe if you did something for yourself for once instead of just saying that you will then running away and hiding like a coward these things wouldn't happen. Maybe then Erii, Chisei and Chime would still be alive and I wouldn't have to deal with- with this fucking guilt!"

"Look I'm sorry about the Erii thing but listen, we had no idea you were feeling like this. You should've come to us-" Finger is trying to mediate, trying to comfort you, but it only makes things worse.

"And how could I have," You croak out, "How could I have trusted that you would listen, that I would get a break? You never even presented the option for me to have any kind of choice in how I carried out my missions let alone not do them at all. I had nothing I still have nothing. I'm presumed dead at best and no longer exist at worst in terms of my original legal documents. And even if I had access to them I'm still 20 years younger then I'm supposed to be." With a watery chuckle you continue, "Even if I did tell you if I was thrown away I wouldn't have any papers to do anything, to get a job, to live a life, I'm completely reliant on the college for everything. Not to mention the fact that I know nothing about the world. If Cassell had deemed me" You shudder at the word "a failure, then I would've had nothing, not information on the world at current, not even an identity." You shake your head walking in between them and towards the exit. "I don't care I'm not doing this anymore. Find some other freshman to be you dog."

You walked out and onto the streets of Tokyo. You glanced back once lamenting the fact that you hadn't gotten to say goodbye to Zero. You turned away glancing in the direction of the convenience store that Luminous would always make you go to to buy Erii's milk. You trudged down the streets of Tokyo back to that place. Hopefully you can buy paper and a pen to leave her a note with what little money you have.

The bell on the store door jingled when you opened it. The man was standing behind the counter as he always was. You're experience with father figures have been lack luster this far but you've always thought that this man gave off the air of one. It made you relax, seeing someone that while familiar wasn't from the orphanage or Cassell. He looked up at you wearing that same smile that he always did. You knew it wasn't for you specifically but rather something that he probably gave all of his costumers but still it made you feel a bit warm inside.

"Hey kiddo you look a bit rough, everything ok?" You take a few steps forward and nod a bit

"I think it will be now. Or at least I hope so." He hums and nods his head at your answer deciding not to pry, a decision you appreciate.

"So then you here for the usual?" You look back at him and glance around the store, you don't see paper or pens of any sort. It's a bit of a let down but you suppose asking wouldn't hurt.

"Ah no actually," Your voice is still raw, and a bit choked up from all the crying and yelling that you did earlier, you hope you don't sound weird." "Do you sell like, um... paper and pens or something like that? I want to write a note to a friend before I leave."

He scratches at his chin mumbling under his breath as he thinks for a few seconds before getting up and going around the store coming back with a bottle of warm milk in hand. He then returns to his spot behind the counter pulling a note pad and pen out from under it. He places the milk next to the writing utensils and pushes them towards you. "Here, milks on the house, I don't sell paper or anything but feel free to use that and leave the note with me. I'll give it to your friend."

You give him a small smile. It's all that you can manage right now. Your eyes burn with tears again. "Thanks, my friends name is Zero she's blonde has blue eyes and is about," you place your hand were Zero's head is about as accurately as you can, "This tall. She has a flat affect and seems kinda emotionless but she really is a sweet girl. Um, her hairs long and she has a big black bow tying it back." The man nods his head repeating your description back to you. After gaining conformation he sticks his thumb up and takes the letter from you promising to hand it to her the moment she walks through the doors of his shop. You thank him one last time and promise to come back there if you're ever in trouble before leaving.

As you walk through Tokyo's streets aimlessly, you repeat the words in your letter, speaking them into the rain. "I hope that we can meet again in a more peaceful time, preferably away from the bay and Cassell as I don't have the best impression of them. With lots of love, your best friend..." You laugh a bit, your words were supposed to be a parody of what Z said to you. You think its fitting for a farewell letter.

You meld into the raindrops after looking back one last time.

#me when respawn #dragon raja #dragon raja mc #caesar gattuso #johann chu #luminous lu #finger von frings #fanfic #writing #major character death #but they dont stay dead #its just alluded to #angst #hurt no comfort

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wallwriterstuff · 3 years

Text

Her Reflection ||Marcus Volturi x Reader||

Warnings: Angst city central, descriptions of grief and depression

Words: 2741

Taglist: @royalvolturisblog @thelastemzy @ferb13 @raindancer2004 @a-avaunce @broskibowser @alecvolturiswifeforever @college-is-coming @perfectcolortreestudent @volturidoll13 @vamp-army

Summary:

A request for @like-rain-or-confetti

Marcus is resolute in his grief, so much so he has refused Corin’s gift many a time. When you show up, he can’t help but realise that perhaps his centuries of suffering were enough, that the contentment you offer is far more permanent than Corin’s. Maybe, just maybe...Didyme sent you to him to give him one last chance at the happiness she loved to spread about.

You were a wonderful find.

Aro had been delighted to see you in his thoughts. He had been forced to leave the safety of Volterra for a business trip, the accounts of their business front needing attention every few decades to keep up the ruse of a modern, evolving company with changing leadership and new blood in its crew. The journey to Rome had been uneventful until they found the rogue little newborn tearing holes in a small residential area they had had to pass through. Demetri had quickly found the little fiend and as Aro took his face in his grasp, the images had raced through his mind, the regret he hadn’t taken your offer to help him strongly resonating through his body as it was mercilessly torn apart.

“Oh…Demetri…find this one.” He had murmured. Demetri did, and you had been amongst the guard now for eleven months. It had been a surprise to Marcus when you showed up with his brother as you didn’t seem to fit the Guard’s image – he wasn’t sure you knew how to be intimidating. It was clear you hadn’t come of your own volition, you were far too intelligent to be deceived into thinking Aro’s offer to join was real and clearly saw you actually had no choice at all, but still you came with a gracious smile, like you’d rather be nowhere else. After so many centuries of living and travelling as nomad you had confessed to Marcus a place to settle was nice, and despite so much time on your own you had a warm and welcoming nature that just drew the others to you.

It was all too easy to find your place when your place seemed to be everywhere and anywhere. As bitter and cautious as they were, even the twins seemed to warm to you rapidly after a few discussions. Marcus was mildly intrigued at first, but he didn’t really see enough of you to form any solid opinion on you. He only knew what he had heard, and what he had heard was that you were helpful and kind, quick to soothe pain and anger in others even if it festered in yourself. It sounded so awfully familiar to him that the raw ache in his chest, one that had never really gone away, throbbed so badly he was forced to turn his face to avoid your visage when you entered the room. Still, your voice was sugar sweet, melodic and soothing, it was a balm somehow to that pain. Months later he couldn’t say he was rid of it, he never would be rid of the pain he was sure, but it had dimmed somewhat.

His intrigue had turned to infatuation quickly when he finally let himself cast a glance at you. You were attractive to him, very pleasing to the eye though not in an exaggerated way. What made you beautiful was your personality, and it was what brought so many to your side in their efforts to win themselves a chance at capturing your affections. You turned down one after the next, the bonds you chose to make with the rest of the Guard purely founded on friendship and nothing more. Even when you grew those you coveted most it never came close to anything romantic and he was somewhat glad of that. He didn’t want to be the reason you never knew happiness, but he couldn’t help but wish that perhaps you might find it in him. There were other complications with that of course, because how could you ever give yourself to someone so broken? Was he even capable of love? How did you find happiness in someone devoid of it? He had felt it once before and this was so similar…

You had shown up more and more in the throne room, guarding them as they read. If you ever noticed his stare you didn’t say or make it obvious, but you did catch his eye once or twice and the smile you gave him warmed him inside. It had felt awful the first few times because how could he betray Didyme like that? How was it right, how was it fair, that he might get to feel any semblance of joy after his mate had gone unavenged? Was it even possible to fall in love again? Perhaps the centuries had worn away that original bond, but even that felt like a disservice to Didyme’s love, her kindness. It was enduring in ways that nothing else was. Then it hit him, you reminded him of her. The bond he could form with you was not so different to the one he had shared with her, you were too similar for it not to be.

Didyme’s gift had been happiness, the aura so inviting she had infected everyone around her with it, and while you didn’t share that gift you shared that personality. Marcus understood then, why the colour had returned to the halls as he walked them, why the sunshine seemed warmer on his skin as he passed by windows. It was you. Yet more complications came with that revelation because he was growing ever more restless (in his own lethargic way) and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hide it. How did he tell you he had grown to love you for the very same reasons he had loved her? It was like looking at her reflection distorted in a mirror, a different face and different person but the same kind of heart. You had different passions and opinions and a slightly lethal edge to your physical prowess that he found gave him comfort, for it reminded him you were not her and you were able to defend yourself in ways she hadn’t been able to, but it also finally gave him the courage to admit that yes, he did love you, he did love you and he loved you because though you were like her you were not her.

Marcus didn’t want you to think about Didyme though when you spoke to him, he didn’t want you to see yourself as a replacement for a great, epic love. Unbeknownst to him, you had enquired about the sad king the moment you arrived. Marcus’s entire being radiated such grief and pain that it had been impossible not to ask about him, and given your easy to talk to nature (and the fear of what would happen to you if you unknowingly stuck your foot in your mouth) many a guard had happily told you the reasons for his depression.

“Didyme was beautiful.”

“Didyme was always so kind.”

“She made a whole room light up when she walked into it.”

“It was the greatest love story our kind have ever seen.”

Every statement had only made your heart hurt for the man more and more. His pain was so palpable, but his interest was also obvious. For a man so broken by the loss of such a momentous love it was surprising to say the least, but you also weren’t complaining. You had no desire to see anyone feel like he did, to be so trapped in darkness, and you had made it your mission to make the throne room feel a little lighter whenever you walked into it. Marcus was rather attractive in his own way, even with the corners of his mouth pulled down and his eyes so devoid of light. You were sure with a real smile he would look radiant as his eternal youth dictated he should. The day you got to see that first wisp of a smile was the day you became more determined to see it more often. Most people had gotten so used to overlooking Marcus unless he was called upon that you were able to share subtle looks and smiles from across the room with nobody really noticing – you smiled so often it wasn’t an unusual thing to see.

It was getting close to an important anniversary, important in Marcus’s mind anyway. You had been with the Guard for almost a year and people had started to notice the effects on the quiet King. Marcus had taken to wandering the halls more often than before, enjoying the library and the music room. The Gardens would be off-limits for a while yet, the tree planted in Didyme’s honour still blooming strong every year due to Aro’s careful upkeep and too much for his heart, his eyes. It was while admiring a painting in the hall that he came across you.

“Surely, after the length of your stay with us, you have seen this piece before?” his voice was soft, a slight rasp from the disuse and lack of satisfaction in his life that had lasted so long it was difficult to get rid of it. He felt like a schoolboy when you smiled at him, and for once he embraced the feeling rather than trying to shun it.

“I have, still it amazes me.” You confessed.

“There are larger pieces.” He mused.

“Size does not guarantee quality.” Your response was accompanied by a cheeky smile that made his own lips twitch upward, that ghost of a smile upon on his lips making you sigh contentedly. Twice in one day? It must have been vampire Christmas. For a while, you stood in silence and contemplated the painting before you. It was a simple piece of artwork, the Tuscan countryside interrupted by a quaint little cottage.

“What do you see?” Marcus asked you quietly. Head tilting, you hummed thoughtfully.

“I see peace.” You voice was decisive and he couldn’t help but frown. Peace? He had studied art a lot over the centuries and he had to admit, he had never once looked at this piece twice as something he could profoundly evaluate. It was a field, it was a cottage, it was…something that felt very literal in what it was.

“Peace?” he questioned.

You hummed. “The colours are so warm, and the hills just keep rolling. This landscape stretches forever, an endless path of golden light. There is always something to look forward to ahead but so much beauty around that cottage that you would be equally as happy to stay in that moment. To be able to see the beauty in what’s around us…that is the key to peace to me.”

Marcus could only stare at the painting, trying to see what you saw. He had seen nothing but grey for so long that the warm colours still felt faded. He couldn’t really remember what true peace felt like until he became brave enough to stand beside you. You radiated it. You were so content in life it was impossible not to feel the peace of mind you carried with you everywhere you went.

“What do you see?” you asked him. He didn’t dare stare into those wine-red eyes, sure his words would flee him. Marcus cleared his throat slightly, contemplating what to say. The truth was, he hadn’t seen anything in art ever since he began to study it. He had never seen metaphors or symbolism. Art had the potential to be beautiful and breath-taking but he had lost his ability to see it, until recently. There was…something, he realised, the more he stared at it.

“I see a cottage,” he said slowly, “But it is plain. Plain yet…surrounded by warmth. Isolated, and yet beautiful…it is…it feels as though, it could be home.” There was a deafening silence after he spoke, his words carrying more weight than he had first realised, weight you clearly felt. Marcus had lived in darkness, in agony and despair, in shadows, but with you there was light, joy, and beauty. He could live that way again if you allowed him the chance to. He could find that beautiful home in you. His hand was slow, reaching for yours. For a while the tip of his little finger touching the side of your hand was all he felt, not brave enough to go any further but so desperate to. When your fingers twitched, curling around his own to link your pinkies and hold his hand loosely, he knew instinctually that you wouldn’t let go. You would help him take that last step into the light. He didn’t need to be afraid.

“Master-“

“Marcus,” he amended softly, “I wish for you to call me Marcus.”

You nodded. “Marcus, then.”

A startled little laugh escaped him, because Didyme had once said the exact same thing to him. Unknowingly, you had replicated their very first exchange. Surprised red eyes stared up at him – you had never heard him laugh before. He seemed just as shocked since he wasn’t sure he was capable of such a sound anymore.

“You…you are so like her.” he sighed wistfully. In an ideal world she would be here, but…wasn’t this ideal? A second chance was unheard of amongst their kind and he was desperate to grasp it with both hands, but he feared holding too tight and shattering the hope he was unknowingly placing in you.

"Her? I...oh...Marcus..." you trailed off. Marcus finally met your eyes, the depth of sadness in his expression something you knew now you would never be able to fully alleviate, but you could meet him in the sea of his despair and keep him afloat, couldn’t you? This kind man deserved better.

“Forgive me. I had no wish to startle you, but you remind me so much of…of Didyme.” He whispered. Your expression softened, but there was no pity there, no sympathy, only gratitude. His honesty was applaudable and the courage it must have taken to say her name, that he felt safe enough to attempt such a feat with you of all people…you were grateful. Grateful to share this quiet moment with a man you had come to greatly admire, grateful to be held in such high esteem by him.

“That makes me truly happy to hear.” you confessed. Marcus frowned, looking confused.

“It does?” he questioned. You smiled, giving your interlocked fingers the slightest squeeze. Marcus slid his palm against your own, fully taking hold of your hand now he was more confident his affections were not about to be rejected.

“The day I arrived you looked so sad. I asked around, not wanting to say anything I shouldn’t and upset you further. The tales I heard, the descriptions I was given…it is an honour to think I might remind you of her in even the smallest of ways.” Your reassurance was like a warm blanket. Feeling cocooned and safe, he lifted your intertwined hands to brush the lightest of kisses against your knuckles. The tender gesture would have made you blush if you still had the ability.

“She was truly a miracle in my life, yet for all the ways you remind me of her, you seem to have just as many differences between you two,” he murmured, “I confess…I admire the reflection of her I see in you, but I love the little things that mark you as separate from her. It felt wrong to do so, yet I could not help it.” Pursing your lips, you tried to calm your racing thoughts as Marcus watched you for any hint of reaction. He had been open and honest, taken a brave step, and he needed you to meet him halfway lest he retreat back into the shadows. Living in hope was no foreign thing for you and you didn’t just meet him halfway, you anchored him in that hope so he might never retreat again.

“It would be a privilege to help you remember what it is like to be loved.” You assured him. Marcus gave you another small smile. Over time, those smiles grew and grew until they crinkled his eyes at the corners. Some days he laughed. On one rare occasion you had gotten him to dance with you in the music room to the record playing on the gramophone. Bit by bit the light returned to his eyes until he beamed so brightly when he saw you that it was obvious to everyone the Marcus they had once known had been partially revived. Grief was a constant companion but it no longer crippled him, and in the safety of your embrace Marcus felt so far from the shadows he was certain for the first time in centuries that he was finally free of them.

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #the volturi #marcus volturi #x reader #marcus volturi x reader #aro volturi #angst #fluff #he has a whole wardrobe of business suits for the specific purpose of business trips in rome and you cannot tell me otherwise

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aetherin21 · 2 years

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Do side characters even get proper curtain calls?

Pairing: Shoko Ieri x Getou Suguru

Genre: angst

Notes: Idk its just a rare pair I like hahaha

The world felt gray, the drifting currents of heads and limbs washed through the city. Each and everyone minding their own business, governing bridges and towers of maximized interaction. Sound effects of chattering played in the background accompanied by well placed props and backdrops.

Shoko Ieri stood in the middle, neutral and unbound. Between her plump lips there she accommodates death rolled in paper. Inhaling and exhaling something that isn't meant for her age. It was her well known go to prop and it calmed her.

She doesn't remember when this oral fixation began; all she knows is that it's been there, kissing her before any man did. A makeshift lover of some sort, that comes and goes lined in different colored packets. A small cheap thrill that can be found anywhere. She did wish there was an alternative, neither sweet nor intoxicating. Preferably soft, thin and smells of sandalwood but that's not possible. It had become impossible. The brand she liked the most had been discontinued before she could even try.

As if on cue, the unreachable had stood parallel to her. All in his full glory with a new found visage of a buddha. An aura of purpose exuding his exterior all the while clad in black. Gentle smile adorned his lips, calming the raging applause of the invisible audience. It felt disgustingly holy how he easily does that. Beautiful yet sacrilegious. Shoko was never religious in the first place. It was never her calling nor her place.

Blowing the nicotine away, the second to the last act had finally started.

"Yo, it's the criminal. You need something from me?" She began to jest, moving the story forward. Peering eyes anticipating his actions.

Suguru only held the box of flame towards her, offering peace on what was already neutral ground. It was the usual cliche scene of a smoker to a fellow smoker. "I guess I'm just testing my luck."

Guess he said, he knew she was powerless against him. There was no luck there to begin with, only logic. After all, her existence was only inferior to them. A mob that comes out when needed on the world stage and with that she could only play her role, whatever it is.

Speaking the line on her script with utter nonchalance. "I am gonna ask just to make sure but are those false charges?" The audience needs to know, after all, the prelude to the ending of their favorite comedy duo. Build it up a bit, let it simmer till it's well done then let them devour it. It's what's popular right now, bitter endings served on a sweet relationship.

Mr. Getou Suguru's divine features contorted back to mortality as childish words were splayed on his version of the script. It gave his age away. A hormonal teenager with a violent streak of 'him vs the world' kind of thing. It was his character to play and he sure is damn good at it.

"Nah, unfortunately not." He answered. An unsatisfactory delivery. There was no oomph factor, no streamers or props, not even a little slap stick. It was boring. Then again she wasn't his partner to begin with so it doesn't really work out. Yet he chose her.

Prodding him further to redeliver a well thought out punchline, she continued with her question. But what came next was just a series of bad jokes. Shoko could only laugh with sympathy. Really? Come on, end this properly idiot.

It was tough not being Gojo Satoru, tough not being a key player because you'll only be given crumbs from the director. Deeming you worthy when the time calls for it and then flipped through the next page where you'll be out stage once again. This was supposed to be Shoko's Oscar worthy performance moment but it just didn't work well with this story. She had to call back up or it was do or die. It's that kind of audience after all. Never a trio, only a duo sort of thing.

"Ah Gojo? I met Getou in Shinjuku..." and with that line alone it was his signal to leave. On to the main stage, as they say. Disappearing like withering smoke from her finger tips. Never even looking back as the tidal wave of silhouettes swallow him whole. This part didn't need adlibs. No crying, no goodbyes and no confessions; this was her curtain call.

Bitterly, dragging another smoke on the stage alone with no spotlight. She really wished she had an opportunity to at least try that brand she always liked. Just once and maybe she'll stop inhaling this cancer stick.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #getou suguru x shoko ieri #shoko ieri #getou suguru #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #bro I legit dont know what to tag #this isnt even a reader insert so I am not sure if its gonna be read at all #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #getou suguru x reader

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ickaimp · 4 years

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[HTTYD] Break your heart, steal your crown

Sometimes ya just gotta write angst. Lotta people liked Coming Down is the Hardest Thing, my version of the ‘Hiccup runs away and becomes the “Dragon Master”, Astrid’s offered up as a Sacrifice years later’ tropes without Hiccup being a dick, and there were requests for sequels, which I didn’t do because this was all I had. Two years post Coming Down is the Hardest Thing, 4220 words, angst and some fluff.

"Berk is dying."

The words sat heavily in the air of the smithy, lingering like a spectre between Stoick and Gobber.

Stoick almost wished he could take the words back, but that wouldn't change the accuracy of his words. Berk was dying.

Gobber closed his eyes and sighed, giving him a weary nod of agreement. So he had seen it too. Or more likely, he had seen it in Gothi's last roll of the bones, before she had gone to bed and passed away in her sleep, leaving the fortune out for Gobber to read when he found her body this morning.

He hadn't actually told Stoick what the bones had said, giving him the same world-weary look he was currently wearing instead.

Even without the soothsayer's predictions, Stoick could see it. The twins had left years ago, declaring that the isle was too boring for their pranks, setting sail with only a chicken as their companion. It had seemed like a blessing at the time, less things exploding in their wake, leaving Berk a much quieter place than it had been.

Then came Spitelout's stupidity with Astrid, offering her to the savage Dragon Master. They'd gotten her back, only for her to disappear a week later. She'd left a note that this time was by her choice, but it'd been little comfort.

This left Berk's next generation without any women old enough to be wives. To become mothers to bear future generations.

With the Jorgenson clan name soiled by Spitelout's actions, Snotlout was no longer able to be Stoick's heir. The other clans would never treaty with someone whose family had literally brought the Dragon Master down on their heads during a meeting of the chiefs. Except for maybe Dagur, and that was not a glowing recommendation, given the Berserker's... instability.

Which left Fishlegs as the only remaining of Berk's next generation to lead. The lad was smart, there was no doubt about it, and he would be fantastic as a second in command, the next Chief's Gobber, he was too quiet and soft to be a leader. The politics would eat him alive. And worse, Fishlegs was aware of this.

There were other children, Gustav and his ilk, but they were too young to start training as the next Chief of Berk. Stoick ran a hand down his beard, more grey than red from the stress and sorrow. He didn't have long enough to train one of them up.

And Berk's numbers were dwindling in other ways. Many had not been able to adapt to life without dragons to fight, finding a peaceful life did not sit well with their warrior blood. They'd left, being adopted into other clans. They'd just lost another family that way today. Stoick wished them no ill will, but if this continued, then they'd find their numbers too small to maintain the community.

Even Gobber was growing bored, not having enough work to keep the blacksmith busy. Without the dragons, there was no need for weapons, and the simple farming tools they had didn't need as much maintenance. Stoick looked around the smithy, his eyes falling on the curtain leading to a small room that Gobber wouldn't allow anyone into, his own private shrine to his missing godson.

And then there was the loss of Hiccup, the first of Berk's children to leave. The Dragon Master's words, that Hiccup was happy and healthy where he was, was little comfort without being able to verify this. There was little Stoick wouldn't do in order to be able to see his boy again, for even just a moment. Sometimes he wondered if this wasn’t his fault. The path had seemed clear when they were constantly being raided by dragons. But without the raids, he was floundering. His people were looking to him for direction, and he had no experience with peace to know what to do. More and more they seemed to realise this, and left. Seven generations of vikings had lived on this isle, going all the way back to the first chieftain, his many times great-grandfather, and it was starting to look like he’d be Berk’s last chief.

"I wish I had some words of wisdom for ye, my friend." Gobber said softly. "I-"

Stoick jumped as something flew in through the window and landed on Gobber's face.

It was a green and brown Terrible Terror, who was making a high pitched growling sound as he crawled all over Gobber's head. "Don't move." Stoick rumbled, reaching for his sword.

"Ach." Gobber made a sound of annoyance, reaching up and grabbing the Terrible Terror by the scruff of its neck, pulling it off his head. "What're you-"

He trailed off, eyes drifting upwards and Stoick realised that it was the sound of a larger dragon's wings flapping. A Deadly Nadder, unless he missed his guess. Stoick gritted his teeth, feeling fire in his veins again, eager to have something to fight again, to take this rage and frustration out on.

"Oh no." Gobber said, a look of horror crossing his face as he glanced at Stoick. That was all the warning Stoick found himself being spun, his arms being bound behind his back with a pair of iron manacles, and he was flung through the curtain into Hiccup's old room. He landed against something softer than he expected, falling to the ground.

"GRUMP!" Gobber commanded, sticking his head through the curtain and pointing to Stoick. "Sit."

With a complaining groan, something large and heavy pressed down on Stoick. He grunted, trying to push himself up with his shoulders, but the weight was too much for him to get leverage.

"I didnae want you to find out like this." Gobber said, sounding apologetic, the Terrible Terror riding on his shoulder as if this was a common occurrence. "But if you value yer son's life at all, do not make a sound."

Stoick opened his mouth to bellow, only to find a rag shoved unceremoniously into his mouth. He growled, ire filling his veins as Gobber turned away, pulling the curtain shut. The torn fabric didn't go all the way to the ground, leaving Stoick with a clear view of the smithy.

When he got free, and got his hands on Gobber...

A blue and gold Deadly Nadder head stuck it's head into the doorway of the smithy, then carefully stepped in, taking care not to bump into anything in the small building. A crowned pale spectre rode on it's back, white and grey wisps obscuring the figure.

"Gobber!" The spectre greeted the smith with a cheerful voice. The spectre raised an arm, throwing what looked like a bridal veil over their crown, revealing inhuman features covered in glittering blue scales.

"Is good to see you, lassie." Gobber returned the greeting, his voice rolling with affection. The spectre laughed, reaching up for their head and pulling it off-

-Revealing Astrid's smiling face.

Stoick stopped fighting, going lax in surprise. It had been almost two years since he'd last seen Astrid, grim faced and bitter before she disappeared. She seemed to practically glow with happiness now, as she slid off the Deadly Nadder's back, giving a little hop before leaping into Gobber's outstretched arms, giving him a tight hug.

"Good to see you too." Astrid declared, holding him out at arm's length. Stoick could see that she was wearing armour now, covered in scales that matched the Nadder she rode. She wore a skirt, cape, and veil made out of ragged strips of a thin sheer white fabric that seemed to dance in the air when she moved.

The Undead Bride of the Demon was Astrid. Stoick recognised the Nadder now, it was the same one that she'd flown when the Dragon Master had kidnapped Stoick from the Althing.

"What brings ye here?" Gobber asked jovially, the merriment sounding slightly forced. "Not that I'm complaining, but was nae expecting t’see you for another week or two."

A stab of betrayal felt like a knife between his ribs.

"We have news." Astrid bounced and gave a little hip wiggle of delight. It was a gleeful carefree movement that Stoick didn't think he'd ever seen from the usually tacturn lass.

"Hey, wait. No fair." A shadow at the doorway protested, and Stoick found himself growling as he recognized the outline of the Dragon Master and his demonic Night Fury. The Dragon Master swung a leg over his so-called brother's neck, standing upright on his cloven foot and moving towards them. "I wanted to see Gobber's face when you tell."

"Not my fault that you're being slow, my sweet husband." Astrid grinned, giving another skip-hop to give a little kiss to the side of the Dragon Master's scaled helm and Stoick growled, wiggling as he trying to get free, but the weight on top of him didn’t budge.

"Wait a moment." Gobber breathed. "Astrid... Your belly... You cannot mean..." He trailed off, too choked up to speak.

Looking at her in silhouette, he could see what Gobber meant. Astrid's previously flat stomach was curved out in a very distinctive solid roundness.

Astrid was pregnant. And from the casual arm around her shoulders that the Dragon master had around her waist, the babe in her belly was that demon's.

Stoick would kill him. He'd kill him for touching Astrid. He'd rip the foul creature limb from limb, and then he'd get rid of that Night Fury who was sniffing around the room-

All thoughts faded from his mind as the Dragon Master took off his helmet, revealing his face for the first time, and Stoick's breath caught in his throat.

It couldn't be.

The messy brown hair, almost reddish in the candlelight. Green eyes. The fond crooked grin on his narrow face, having finally grown into his ears.

"Hiccup." Gobber said, his voice thick with tears. "Astrid. You've got a wee bairn on the way."

His son. That was his son standing there with an arm around Astrid, the two of them shining with happiness.

His son, the Dragon Master.

"I'm about five months along." Astrid beamed at Gobber, resting comfortably against Hiccup, the two fitting together like matching puzzle pieces.

"We were hoping you'd agree to be the Godfather." Hiccup said, and Stoick didn't know how he hadn't heard it before, in the Dragon Master's dry sarcasm. It was his son's voice, a little deeper than as a teenager, but the nasally tones could only be him.

"Godfather-?" Gobber echoed in awe.

"It's not dependent on if you take up our offer to live with us." Astrid was quick to assure him. "But we'd like you to be. We wouldn't be having a kid if it wasn't for you."

"You got Astrid out of Berk, and you saved my life by taking me under your wing here." Hiccup said sincerely. "We're also open to them calling you 'Grandpa', if that's okay with you."

Grandpa.

Stoick was a Grandfather.

He felt tears prickle the corners of his eyes. He'd never thought he'd have that chance, not after his son went missing. And here his son was, was, healthy, happy, and with a wee one on the way.

"Och." Gobber shook his head. "I couldn't."

"You can." Astrid grinned, reaching out and taking Gobber's hand in hers, scales and claws curling delicately around calloused scarred skin. "We talked to Valka about it. She laughed and said she's fine with it. Someone else to share the responsibility of dirty diapers."

The tears spilled over his cheeks. Valka, his dear sweet Valka was alive as well.

He remembered now, the Dragon Master saying that he had his mother's eyes, and he did. Skies above, he did. Hiccup had always had Valka's clear eyes that seemed to penetrate and see more than anyone else.

"I mean, you did more to raise me than my own father did. It's only fair." Hiccup added without any trace of bitterness as he gestured around the smithy. "All of my fondest memories of Berk are here."

Stoick's breath caught, feeling as if a sword had just been thrust through his chest.

"Someone had to keep an eye on you." Gobber shook his head dismissively. "Otherwise some dragon would have flown away with your toothpick self."

The Night Fury, who had been circling around in the background, stuck it's muzzle under the curtain. The beast sniffed the air for a moment before poking its head all the way into the small room, it's acid green eyes narrowed into slits as it stared at him, a low warning rumble coming from its throat, lips curling back to show a giant maw full of razor sharp teeth.

Stoick stared back, uncomfortably aware of how vulnerable he currently was. The creature could bite off his head in one bite, and there was no way for Stoick to protect himself.

"Oh nooooo. How terrible." Hiccup deadpanned in the background as Astrid laughed. "Carried away by draaagons."

The great weight on top of Stoick shifted and grunted, and he realised that it was a giant heavy dragon that was currently sitting on his back. The Night Fury crooned what sounded like a question to the creature pinning him down, getting a snore-like rumble in return.

The Night Fury glanced back down at Stoick, giving him a look that could only be described as 'scornful' before turning away with a smug expression and trotting back over to his son. Stoick watched as the beast gave an amused warbling at his son, casually headbutting Hiccup, sending him into Astrid, who took a half step to keep them all upright.

"Oh!" She gasped, then took Gobber's hand that she was still holding and pressing it against her belly.

"They're moving!" Gobber gasped. "Oh, they're a fighter, just like their parents."

Stoick's breath caught again. His grandchild. His grandchild was moving.

"The only thing that really settles them down is when the dragons sing to them." Astrid looked amused. "Even if the dragons are confused as to why I haven't laid an egg yet."

The Night Fury gave Stoick a pointed look, then nudged Astrid's belly with it's broad flat nose, giving a soft affection croon, as if to point out that the creature could touch the babe in Astrid’s belly, but Stoick could not. Stoick choked on the gag in his mouth, silently swearing vengeance.

"Which is part of the reason why we stopped by early." Astrid said gravely, and Stoick wondered how much more news he could take tonight.

"Valka says I'm probably fine for flying up until I give birth." Astrid said, wrapping a protective arm around her belly. "But we decided that fighting is out until afterwards. So it may be awhile before I'm back in the area."

"Trapper tried to kick her in the stomach." Hiccup growled, and all three dragons in the room echoed the sound, even the Terrible Terror on Gobber's shoulder. The sound covered up Stoick's own noise of outrage at such an act. "Stormfly stopped them, but it gave us all a bit of a scare."

Astrid nodded, leaning against Hiccup, who looked a little anxious, rubbing his hand up and down the blue scales of her arm. "I can still do air support, but the pregnancy is making me exhausted lately. Which is probably only going to get worse." Astrid looked annoyed. "So we're all going to be staying with Valka at least until I give birth."

"It's not like the Hidden World really needs Toothless and I to guard it." Hiccup said with wiry humour. Stoick blinked, finding he had no more room for shock. Of course Hiccup found the home of the dragons. Of course he had. "But if you did decide to accept our offer to live with us, we didn't want you looking in the wrong place and thinking the worst."

"And Valka promises not to cook in your honour when you do show up." Astrid smirked. And Stoick nearly choked on muffled laughter, aware he was crying again. Valka had never been the best cook, but she tried. And it'd been worth every burnt and raw bite he'd choked down.

"Thank you." Gobber's voice was thick. "But I cannae leave just yet. Your Father needs..."

"I know." Hiccup hastened to assure. He stepped forward, wrapping a clawed hand around the back of Gobber's head, resting his forehead against the blacksmith's. "When you're ready, we'll be there. Even if you're never ready, we just want to make sure you know that there is a place for you."

"You just don't want to be the only one with experience making protestetics." Gobber grumbled, and Hiccup laughed, tapping his cloven foot on the ground, making a ringing sound.

Hiccup's prosthetic foot, Stoick realised, watching the spring inside the metal contraption flex. His son was missing a foot.

And Stoick had no idea when or how it happened.

"You caught me." Hiccup didn't sound angry about it as he released Gobber, more jovial than anything. "But it doesn't make it less true."

"I'll think about it." Gobber promised with the air of having said the same thing many times before, taking the Terrible Terror off his shoulder and transferring it to Hiccup's.

"And I'll teach you how to make Dragon Iron when you do." Hiccup said with a grin, his voice both teasing and cajoling.

Dragon Iron, which the Dragon Master was the only one who knew how to make. Because Hiccup had been a smith since he was six years old, put under Gobber's eye to keep him out of trouble.

"Stop trying to bribe me, you brat." Gobber cuffed him upside the back of his head with a grin. Both Hiccup and Astrid laughed, even if the Night Fury gave Gobber a glare. "Now g'wan. Get out of here before you're seen."

"Yeah, yeah." Astrid rolled her eyes and stood up on her toes to give Gobber a quick fond kiss on the cheek. "We'll see you later, one way or another." She informed him matter of factly before putting her helmet back on and climbing on top of her dragon, settling the veil around her shoulders.

"Take care of yourself." Hiccup clasped Gobber's hand, then pulled the larger smith in for a back thumping hug before releasing him. "And say ‘hi’ to Grump for me, wherever he's snoozing at."

"Will do." Gobber agreed blithely. "Stay safe, all of you."

The Night Fury let out a warble as if to say that it was his job to keep them all safe as Hiccup fastened the helmet back on his head, transforming back to the Dragon Master. The beast gave Stoick one last pointed look as Hiccup climbed in it's back, before turning and heading out of the smithy, both the dragons and their riders losing their relaxed easy going postures.

Astrid followed a few heartbeats later, following Hiccup's soft whistle. There was the sound of wingbeats, and then they were gone.

Leaving the smithy empty aside from Gobber and Stoick. It was with a sinking realisation that he realised he probably wouldn’t get another chance to ever see Hiccup again.

The Dragon Master was essentially Chieftain to the dragons, a role that clearly kept him busy and constantly travelling all over the archipelago and beyond. Stoick knew first hand how busy having a newborn kept one as well. It would be months, if not another year before Hiccup would free to visit Berk. And there would be no way for Stoick to know where or when.

Gobber gave a great big heaving sigh before turning back towards Stoick, his peg leg sounding loud against the ground. Gobber moved the curtain aside, and then knelt down, removing the gag from Stoick's mouth.

"I'm sorry y'had to find out this way." Gobber said softly, and the thing that hurt the most is that he could feel how sincerely his oldest friend meant it.

"How long?" Stoick asked, ignoring the way his voice broke.

Gobber gave a thoughtful hum, reaching up and petting the dragon on top of him. "Almost two years now." He finally said. "I recognized Hiccup's work on the blade the Dragon Master gave Astrid when he returned ya both here. Astrid had suspected as much, it just confirmed it for her."

He'd travelled with his son for an entire day, and Stoick hadn't a clue it was him.

Stoick, who had sworn that he'd be able to recognize his son anywhere, any time, in any place.

Horror went down his spine as he remembered the accusations he'd hurled at the Dragon Master after the dragon had crashed into their camp. Threatening to kill the Dragon Master in order to find his son.

His son, who had been right there. Who had told him while hidden behind a mask, that Hiccup was alive, healthy and happy where he was, far away from Berk.

Away from Stoick.

"About a month after Astrid left, she stopped by for a visit, ta let me know she was fine." Gobber continued, nudging the dragon off of Stoick. The giant creature grumbled as it slowly obeyed, leaving Stoick still shackled and on the ground. "The next visit, she brought Hiccup, and we cried together for nearly an hour."

Gobber paused, checking his pockets for his keys, then started to work on the manacles around Stoick's arms. Stoick had broken through stronger bonds before, but he didn't have the energy in him now.

"They stop by every every other month or so to check in on me, let me know how they're doing, or send a Terrible Terror with a letter." Gobber continued quietly. "Valka's been by once as well, weren't real comfortable here and left just as quick. Too many memories of blood shed."

The manacles released with a click, and Stoick slowly moved his arms, his shoulders protesting having been twisted in such a position. He carefully sat up, turning to face the monster that had been on his back.

And found himself looking at the least dangerous dragon he'd ever set eyes upon, for all its enormous size. It was large enough that it had probably only been it's head that had been resting on Stoick's back, and looked like it was already asleep with its eyes half open.

And it looked like a giant turd. Large, brown, and lumpy.

"This magnificent fellow is Grump." Gobber motioned to the sleepy dragon, with a fond expression. "They left him with me for back up, and so I have a way to meet up with them some time. He's been running the forge fires for me. Never realised how helpful having a dragon in the smithy could be before Hiccup mentioned it, even if the great lump sleeps most of the time."

Grump slowly turned an eye in Gobber's direction, thick club of a tail bouncing a few times as if realising that they were talking about him. He briefly wondered how many months the dragon had been sleeping here and no one had even suspected.

Stoick felt as if everything he had believed in had suddenly been turned upside down and shaken about. Dragons possibly weren't evil. His son was alive. He had a grandchild on the way. Hiccup was the Dragon Master.

"Is he happy?" Stoick asked, mindful of the tears still on his cheeks. "Hiccup?"

Gobber thought it over. "Aye." He finally said, stroking his moustache thoughtfully. "The lad weren't never made for being a Viking. Living amongst the dragons brings him not only comfort, but joy. Astrid and Valka too. Once you've earned a dragon's loyalty, there ain't much that can break it. And the three of them fit among them like they were born for it."

Stoick nodded. "And you?"

"Me?" Gobber looked surprised at the question.

"Will you be joining them?" He had the invitation and the dragon.

Gobber hesitated, looking at the slumbering dragon. "I'd like to." He finally admitted. "Some day. But not any time soon."

Because he was staying here, for Stoick's sake. He'd told Hiccup that clearly enough.

Gobber was his oldest and dearest friend, loyal to a fault, and Stoick couldn't blame him for keeping HIccup's secrets. Not when Stoick's reaction to meeting the Dragon Master hadn’t been nearly so generous, even as he realised that the Dragon Master was only trying to help in his own way.

"You should join them." Stoick said, rising to his feet. Gobber looked like he wanted to protest, and Stoick stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "When you're ready."

Gobber closed his mouth and nodded. Stoick nodded back, then walked out of the smithy. The cold air hit the tear tracks on his cheeks, and he ignored it, trudging up the hill to his cold empty hut.

He had gotten his wish, to know that his son was not only alive, but thriving. Astrid too. And Valka as well, his wife living amongst dragons for nearly two decades now. He was so elated to know that they weren’t dead.

Stoick wouldn't trade that knowledge for anything, not even with the understanding that the reason for their happiness was that they were living their lives far away from him.

-fin- (no, there are no plans for anything further in this au, but if it sparks something in you, feel free to play.)

#HTTYD #how to train your dragon #stoick the vast #gobber the belch #astrid hofferson #hiccup horrendous haddock iii #toothless #icka fic

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