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ciara-knightly · 10 days

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knight squad: if we had a 4 season run

i’ve been thinking a lot of thoughts about how amazing knight squad would have been with a proper four season run. i don’t think i would ever have the energy to write a full fanfic, but it’s been five years since the show’s conclusion, so i wanted to share some of my ideas. here’s a 2k outline on how i think the plot could have gone:

season 1

season 1 is already pretty god-tier in my opinion, so i wouldn’t change much! i think they covered a lot in terms of character and relationship development, and did a great job building an interesting plot that tied back in the finale.

one of the things i would change though is the whole presentation of ciara/princess, and how it’s done through her hair. i’ve seen some discussion about it floating around before, so some of y’all probably know where i’m getting at with this. i don’t know if it was intentional, but the implications of her straightened/relaxed hair being part of what makes her elegant is really questionable to me and i do find it racist. i do like her loose curls for ciara because being ciara is when she gets to let loose and be who she really is. but for the princess, i think they really could have done another style like braids, or have her hair tied up in a bun to represent how she is holding herself back, or have her hair wrapped. i also think they could have incorporated other ways to show the difference between the princess and ciara that don’t rely on hair – facial markings/face paint for the royal family, or the princess covers her face with a face veil.

also just. give her a name!!! for the fanfic writers if not for anyone else. i know it’s a kid’s show and they probably didn’t want to make it too confusing or something, but also kids are not that dumb.

in terms of character, in the show, arc adapts to being part of a team really well. personally, i would have drawn that out, and had a plot where arc needs to get used to being on a team after being a lone wolf for so long and learning how to trust the others to have his back. i think the writers almost went in that direction, because in the pilot when the phoenix squad is assigned to fight the stone knight, arc tells them to step back and says he has it, and ciara says “but we’re supposed to be a team!” but he ignores her. and it works out okay that time, but i expected it to come back later and it was just dropped. so this is something i would have developed over the course of the season, and then everyone coming together to save him from ryker in the season finale being the culmination of him realizing he has people to watch his back now and he isn’t alone.

season 2

okay so you know how i kept most of season 1? yeah we’re doing the opposite for season 2. we’re throwing pretty much all of it out. yEET. prudy and warwick are not going to find out right at the beginning of the season, we’re not getting the ciara and sage relationship development quite yet, no one is getting knighted, and there’s no weird superhero episode with trolls that are antisemitic caricatures.

however, there will be more plots centered around prudy and warwick. we get to see more of prudy’s giant background, and warwick struggling to live up to his family name and what being a magical wizard means. so there are episodes like the election episode and the one with warwick’s dad.

at the same time, we get more of the relationships in the phoenix squad, and arc and ciara will also start to realize how hard it is keeping their secrets from their best friends. they have some really close calls when it comes to balancing their secrets with their friendships.

arc and ciara also start having some romantic development in the latter half of the season, but it happens subtly. like people thinking they’re a couple leading to awkward denial, seeing the other dressed up for an event and having that “whoa” moment, being unusually jealous or protective, etc.

okay i really want an episode where there’s just a shit ton of miscommunication and the princess accidentally agrees to a date with warwick and he’s over the moon but ciara is panicking because she can’t break his heart while arc’s pretending he isn’t jealous

A TRUTH SPELL EPISODE. sort of combining both of the two big threads this season. arc gets hit by a truth spell by accident and they have to wait for it to wear off and it leads to all sort of chaos as arc and ciara try to make sure their secrets don’t get out so ciara is just covering his mouth and trying to make excuses. and then, at the end of the episode, he’s alone with prudy and warwick who have caught on that arc does have a secret and they’re grilling him, and he blurts out that he has feelings for ciara, which even he didn’t realize until he said it. the spell finally wears off and prudy and warwick are shocked enough to let him go, and he runs off only to bump into ciara (who had been called away for a princess-related thing), and she’s apologizing to him for having to leave him alone and asks if he revealed anything important to anyone, and he’s just like “....no.”

midway through the season, we also begin building up to the next overarching plot. it might be interesting to focus a bit on astorian court politics, which leads to the reveal of an internal conspiracy to take down dragonbloods and take over the throne. (note: the leader of this conspiracy was the one behind ciara’s mother being taken away.) sort of leads to the realization of how messed up it is that only dragonbloods have power in astoria. the season finale has them facing off against this antagonist, and they win, but the antagonist runs away.

warwick and prudy find out about arc and ciara’s secrets at the end of the season!

also sage and buttercup are canon. because this is my plot outline and i say so.

season 3

this season begins with warwick and prudy learning what it means to be secret keepers, even though they’re struggling a bit. arc and ciara and understandably frustrated, but when it matters, warwick and prudy do come through, and they get better about it over time.

warwick and prudy are also trying to figure out their roles on the team, especially as they feel like they’re the weaker links.

meanwhile, ciara is stepping into her role as the princess and trying to force actual change regarding the dragonblood laws in astoria, having learned from the events of last season.

arc is supporting her, but he’s also starting to feel a bit homesick. we get at least a couple episodes centered around seagate when phoenix squad takes a trip to his hometown which is in the process of rebuilding in the aftermath of ryker. they get caught up in a pirate plot!

they also discover that ryker’s army hasn’t entirely been dissolved, and some of them still hope to bring ryker back.

arc and ciara starting to have some legit romantic development as they realize their feelings. throw in a fake dating episode because it would be cute. they also kiss at least once during this development period - for quest purposes of course, and it’s “completely platonic” (it isn’t, both feel things). both of them are too scared of ruining their relationship as friends to pursue more though, and they’re worried about how it would affect their team.

prudy and warwick do not think their squad will be affected and are very much rooting for this!!!

ciara also starts becoming friends with sage (although they would never admit it)! bonding as the princess, and respecting her more as a classmate. phoenix squad and kraken squad work together more often.

despite their attempts to prevent it, last season’s antagonist returns and helps bring ryker back. the villains team up, vowing to not just take over astoria, but destroy it.

the season ends with astoria learning about the danger of ryker coming back and needing more knights, so phoenix squad, kraken squad, and unicorn squad are all knighted. ciara passes her laws against dragonbloods being the only ones allowed to be knights, and their secrets come out to the kingdom.

arc and ciara’s relationship development also reaches the natural conclusion and they officially become a couple after a scare during the final battle where they realize they could have lost each other.

season 4

season four shifts a bit in vibes because all the secrets are out and everyone has officially been knighted, so ideally we would have gotten some fancier new set locations

phoenix squad and kraken squad are officially knighted, but that doesn’t prevent their rivalry. however, this leads to issues, and they quickly realize they’re no longer in training and they genuinely need to have each other’s backs.

arc and ciara are also adjusting to working together while dating. they’re both really protective and keep trying to look out for each other on the battlefield, and it leads to some slip ups at first because they feel like they’re out of sync and maybe they worked better as friends. but they ultimately realize they help make each other better, and fighting together becomes even better because they’ll always have each other’s backs

we bring in the plot with ciara’s mom - eliza comes back with evidence that their mother is still alive and out there. phoenix squad follows up on the lead, and eventually they find her mother and bring her home. however, their mother doesn’t remember anything which is why she never came back even after she escaped her confinement, so they have to find a way to bring her memories back.

but is everything as it seems? ciara is unsure her mother is the same woman she remembers. she catches her mother sneaking out, and she worries that her mother has turned traitor. but it’s revealed that her mother is actually protecting a secret - a dragon egg, for the last dragon in astoria.

pet dragon for the squad!!! it imprints the most on ciara and sage, and they grudgingly co-parent. arc and buttercup are definitely not jealous of their partners spending so much time together (they absolutely are).

slobwick also hates the baby dragon for taking his place as beloved adorable pet. however slobwick is an evil furby and we should not feel bad for him.

fizzwick has begun training as a knight with his own squad! prudy and warwick end up teaching every now and then (as do the others at times, but this is mostly for them), and they are determined to be good role models. however, they have no idea how to keep up with the Kids These Days, and end up learning some things about valuing themselves and their own self-worth.

also, prudence and warwick do get their own romantic plots during this time! whether they stick around or are minor remains the question….

meanwhile, the ryker plot continues to develop, leading to some dramatic, escalating clashes. this time, ciara believes they need to work more with the other five kingdoms. we return to seagate, as well as visit other locations and have other kingdom representatives come to astoria for a summit meeting. there are lots of disagreements, and ends up one kingdom is working against them, their ruler being a puppet who is actually the astorian court official from season 2. at the end of the day, the remaining four realize they must unite to bring peace.

the series conclusion ends with a dramatic final battle working with the other squads and kingdoms as they take down ryker and the other antagonist once and for all, restoring peace.

close out on phoenix squad, reaffirming their promise to always be there for each other and protect the kingdom as they look forward to the future.

#if anyone wants to discuss any of this PLEASE hit me up #knight squad #knight squad day #knight squad anniversary #arc #ciara #warwick #prudence #sage #buttercup #technically i guess this is some writing?#scrapped #shona

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fiddlespoons · 2 years

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Order 23 Job THOUGHTS

Okay so I watched the order 23 job and I just have a lot of feelings about Eliot. Here are some bullets bc i love reading meta and i thought i’d try to contribute. One of my first attempts at tumblr rambling to work my feelings out so pls bear with me. Very long, not used to paring this into words. Spoilers for that ep!

Eliot takes his earbud out. I don’t remember if he’s done this before, but i don’t think so? not intentionally? To me that says that he felt he couldn’t let the team hear when he goes to talk to the abusive dad, not only because of how much it reveals about himself (which makes sense, bc it’s only season 2 and this is Eliot we are discussing) but also for how much he may or may not be willing to hurt this guy. Bc for Eliot, this is really personal. We get this through the end of the episode. I think from some of the fic I read I thought that the rest of the team figured out what Eliot was doing, but they actually don’t, this is a realization/task Eliot deals with by himself and it speaks to his years of not telling anyone about this aspect of himself/his past the same way Randy can’t talk about it, and that’s an interesting and devastating parallel to me.

It’s weird bc I don’t think we are used to seeing Eliot NOT come out on top when he threatens/hurts/beats someone up a bit? But for some reason, the abusive dad manages to come out on top of that little scene in the stairwell, even after Eliot has dangled him over a railing. The abusive dad comes out on top bc of his existing position in the community and that position’s unseen power; the power the abusive dad feels he can wield with any other local cops to keep his authority long-term, to keep beating up his kid, to make any red flags get brushed under the rug. You can see the moment when Eliot realizes he hasn’t helped in his eyes, and how much it wrecks him; but it also says something that his usual hitter skills of intimidation and violence and fear don’t work here; it’s sad the violence/intimidation tactic is what Eliot goes for first, but it also makes sense in the context of who he is. I have many emotions about this.

Side note here, that also makes me think about Eliot’s perception of cops, and how he knows, knows that they aren’t always (read: often) good. but maybe this is a moment where he’s blindsided by it a bit, bc this is a kid in trouble, and Eliot, even though he’s jaded and weathered and knows more about the ways people can hurt each other better than most, he still wants to believe that the system would be set up to help a kid like Randy, a kid like he was. Eliot wants to believe in the good of things, even when he’s proved wrong, again and again.

also, the “see how well his daddy taught him to lie” line really kills me, bc Eliot knows better than to go to the kid first, bc he knows what the answer will be, and the way this show weaves implications into script lines is really SO good, isn’t it?

Back to the earbud, Eliot also also forgets to put his earbud back in right away, which i think speaks to how much the exchange with the abusive dad really rattled Eliot. He should put his earbud back in right away! they are on a con! and separated! But he doesn’t, bc he needs a second to gather himself back from the place he went on that stairwell, and because maybe for a second, Eliot is a lone wolf again, someone who has had to live/fight/struggle for himself, used to fending off violence at every turn and the idea of putting back in the earbud and being part of a team isn’t something he’s ready for/feels he can trust, knowingly or unknowingly. It kind of backfires, bc the fake marshall is about to turn on them, and if Eliot had his earbud in (i.e if he’d let himself trust his team!!) he would have been more prepared. BUT Hardison still manages to get a message to Eliot over the intercom, and I think that was one of the best touches, bc it shows how Hardison was like “I am NOT going to let Eliot being an idiot and taking out his comms stop me from getting him a message when there is danger, hell no.” and that aspect of the team having Eliot’s back is really important for this episode in particular, given what Eliot is dealing with but not letting the team see, especially when usually Eliot has to have their backs and be focused on that.

Do you think Eliot kicked himself over that, later? Kicked himself for not keeping his comm in, for missing vital information that could have impacted the whole con? Do you think Eliot asked himself what would have happened if Hardison had walked in on the fake marshal instead of Eliot?

Many feelings about how Hardison is kind of randomly talking about using different Star Trek shows as a code for communication when Eliot first sees Randy, as if Hardison truly thinks Eliot would know the difference between good Star Trek and bad Star Trek?!? Come on, Hardison. Like, that’s hilarious. But it’s just the kind of silly chatter Hardison uses to help everyone feel grounded, and possibly you can tell he wants Eliot to push back on him/rib/heckle back at him the same way they had earlier in the episode (“a bully is just a cowboy with low self-esteem” and doesn’t THAT have loaded implications for the rest of the episode, for the ways Eliot has internalized some violence even in jokes, the hints of it we’ll never really see bc the show won’t go there, but as fans we can parse it out?) but instead the scene is undercut by the fact that Eliot sees Randy and suddenly nothing is grounded, Eliot is falling fast, and he claws himself back in time to answer Hardison but it’s pretty obvious he’s distracted. I wonder if the only reason Hardison doesn’t call him on it is bc, to be honest, they have a lot going on right now and lots of balls to balance anyway and Hardison doesn’t have time. But I wonder if he notices.

I also notice how there is a very obvious security camera in the stairwell when Eliot talks to the abusive dad. It makes me wonder if Hardison, after the job is over and he’s peeling footage and cleaning up after them all, he happens to see it?? And then he tracks Eliot through the hospital, and he sees him talk to Randy? There’s a fic right there waiting to happen......

Oh GOD when Eliot tries to talk to Randy, the hopelessness of Randy’s voice and face and eyes (side note, very good child actor right here) is so sad, because right there, Eliot knows he can’t do anything, that he tried to scare the abusive dad and he tried being a pathway for the kid and it’s not working. It’s really hurting him, you can see how he’s opening up to Randy in a way that he hasn’t opened up to anyone, just the little hints like “you don’t have to be scared anymore”, and leaning in toward him/looking around, the same way Randy has looked around him the whole episode, wary and watchful and ready to bolt. And then, when Hardison comes up to them, for a moment Eliot is so far away, bc he almost punches Hardison for startling him. That really gutted me. Eliot kind of blinks and comes back, bc this is Hardison, Eliot is safe and in control right now even if Hardison is worried about their cover, even if Randy isn’t safe at all. Randy is still looking at him, and in that moment Eliot doesn’t know how he’s going to be able to help Randy; but there’s lots of people in Eliot’s life he hasn’t been able to help. You can see the moment when Eliot has to turn away, the conscious choice and the door shutting, bc Eliot will do what needs to be done for the con, he’ll have Hardison’s back (he won’t take out his comm again on this job) first.

And finally, Eliot does get the chance to still do something for Randy, by giving the tip/request/flag on the abusive dad to the real marshall, and I think it says a lot that this was the final scene of the episode, that Eliot was there watching in the car. He was going to take an eye on the abusive dad whether or not the real marshall actually followed up. There’s no dialogue from Eliot, he’s just there, waiting and watching. The only thing he can do, the only thing he’ll trust himself to be able to do.

I haven’t touched on much of the rest of the episode, and this is already long enough, but to be honest the way that instilling fear was used as as a tool, from the mark, from the leverage team, from the abusive dad, from Eliot himself, it ran as a consistent theme through the whole ep. The show writers gave that to us, all these different situations and ways instilling fear can work in your favor or against you; how people use fear as a tool or a con or for control. Then, last line of the episode, from the marshall telling Randy he is going to be okay, and finally siphoning away a tiny bit of fear, one of the worst kinds of fear, well, I think that’s some damn good writing.

#leverage #eliot spencer #tw abuse #leverage meta #the order 23 job #eliot spencer whump #emotional wump #alec hardison #we don't even NEED to go into the whole damien moreau angle #bc i think that would be so long #but rest assured i also have thoughts on that.#tw child harm #leverage rambling

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zazzander · 2 years

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Nico di Angelo: His Arc in BoO and why he should have joined the Romans, part 5

Let's talk about the moment the arc goes off the rails & how I would change it.

The Moment Nico Riordan Changed his Mind

Sure, Nico had mixed emotions about the camp. He’d felt rejected there, out of place, unwanted and unloved… but now that it was on the verge of destruction, he realised how much it meant to him. This was the last place Bianca and he had shared a home - the only place they’d ever felt safe, even if only temporary.

They rounded a bend in the road and Nico’s fists clenched.

Page 411, BoO

The motivations are very limited. Bianca was a Hunter. Besides Nico has a sister whom he loves and a surrogate sister who he has just bonded with, both of whom are Roman.

Instead of being upset about the Greek’s position...

Nico should realise just how much he’s come to care about the Romans, and by extension, the legion.

He discusses their mentality, how it's about working together, holding each other up, being one big family. They don’t divide each other based on ancestry - they are one legion.

Also, Nico has been working through his isolation and his rage. He’s been warned that his rage will make him lonely. But he has also have realised that his anger isn’t “wrong” either. He can still be accepted by people despite the “darkness” inside him.

Additionally, while he’s managed to open up to Reyna, we see in this section he’s still prone to feelings of rage (“Nico’s fists clenched” is a physical manifestation of this). I think this should stay, but it should be shown as an uncomfortable thing - because Nico's arc isn't over yet. He still needs to learn to forgive.

Nico & the Centurions

Unforunately, it’s also around here that Nico stops feeling so close with the two centurions. He closes himself off a little. Especially in the way he departs.

So instead, in this scene, I would have:

Dakota explaining why so many of the legionaries follow Octavian. Discuss their rage at the Greeks for the attack - people injured, some severely, and how Percy had promised them so much, just for that to be broken. On how the Titan War had left many of them scarred. They're longing for peace - and Octavian's promises.

Perhaps Nico questions Dakota’s previous loyalty to Octavian, who then justifies himself and the others.

Basically, Dakota says, “It’s more complicated than you realise”.

He explains how Reyna, Jason, and Octavian were the leaders who got the camp through the Titan War. Both then Jason disappeared and returned on the side of the Greeks. Then Reyna left them for the ancient lands. The only one left was Octavian.

The divide between Reyna and Octavian had been getting worse and worse since Jason disappeared. So when Nico suggest Dakota and Leila make a distraction, Dakota isn’t so keen to force the final break. He doesn’t want to seen the legion fight itself.

Nico starts to realise why the Romans are so angry. And that he’s felt a similar rage himself. He knows how consumed by anger he had been when Reyna had been threatened and injured by Bryce; but how can he hope to show the Romans violence isn’t the answer when he himself turned to it so quickly?

The Sabotage Sequence & My Changes

In the original, Nico shadow-travels away from Dakota and Leila with little warning. I would love to change this - having a proper departure.

It goes something like this:

Nico states that he feels he must join the Greeks.

Dakota questions that choice: “You aren’t staying with us?” and “Reyna ordered us to work together”.

Nico is confused, he’s not a Roman, after all. He’s never been to the Wolf House nor has he sworn an oath to the legion. Dakota says, “Does that matter?”

But Nico doesn’t want to consider the implications of that idea. He thinks about the "other choice" that he had been searching for, but he doesn’t have time to consider that. So he shakes his head, wishes them good luck, “I… I have another part to play.”

He shadow-travels to Half Blood Hill. He still considers assassinating Octavian. He then runs into Will and co. And they sabotage a couple of the onagers.

At which point, Octavian shows up.

It goes something like this:

Octavian explains his thoughts more. This would be a continuation from Dakota’s reasoning. And we, the readers, along with Nico, start to understand where Octavian is coming from. Which is basically: Octavian is fueled by the desire for revenge. He wants peace for New Rome and believes that the only way he can get that is by destroying the Greeks.

Octavian still offers Nico a place within Rome. But this time he actually echoes the same thoughts Nico has been having. Nico is thrown by the fact that Octavian, Reyna and Dakota all seem to think he belongs among the Romans. Especially when Octavian is saying it.

Will interrupts the moment - saying that Nico would never turn against the Greeks. But Nico recovers enough to say, “It’s not about being Greek or Roman.”

Will is surpirsed by that statment. Because they're at war. "You can't be serious. Being Roman means working for this loser." And Will points at Octavian.

But Nico fights to point. Then he turns to Octavian.

Nico tries to reason with Octavian, telling him the Parthenos plan. But Octavian scoffs at the idea - saying that the Romans had been fighting the Greeks long before the statue was stolen, that they inherited the legacy of Troy from Aeneas. And that a conflict between them would surely start again. The only way to guarantee the safety of New Rome is to wipe out the Greeks and turn the gods into Romans permanently.

Octavian might even have a line like, “I refuse to be Cassandra, doomed to watch her city burn and be powerless to stop it!”

At this point, Nico understands that he’s being hypocritical. What caused him to open up to Reyna wasn’t being rejected for his darkness, but being accepted despite it.

He sees the exhaustion in Octavian’s face and knows it mirrors his own. They have both been harmed by pushing others away. And scarred by the horrors that they faced in the Titan War.

Nico reflects on the brief time that he knew Octavian; the strange augur who always hung around Temple Hill rather than the legion. Despite being a member of the legion, Octavian faces his own form of isolation. He sympathises with Octavian (who is the manifestation of the resentment and hatred many of the Romans feel).

Nico realises his own quest is more than just bringing the Athena Partheonos. His mission is to help the Romans forgive. That’s why his father sent him to Camp Jupiter in the first place.

And Nico starts to express his understanding to Octavian, admitting his own flaw of wrath - that he knows what it’s like to hold a grudge. And he sees Octavian hesitate, a flash of understanding and connection passes between them.

But their meeting is interrupted, possibly by Will, possibly by the other sabotage crew. And the opportunity is lost.

Octavian says something about it being "too late" and launches the onagers.

The Pre-Gaia's Awakening Sequence & My Changes

The sabotage works still and Octavian is upset. This time, in his panic, Octavian starts talking about the future that he knows is coming. That New Rome is doomed. That “this is only the beginning” and various other ominous stuff.

Octavian still sounds shrill and lacks the force of charisma that Jason has - but listening to his words, Nico realises just how scared Octavian sounds.

Will questions Octavian though. Will doesn't believe Octavian's predictions, much like the other characters in the story. No one can see the future at this time - not even the Oracle. But Octavian says that Will doesn’t understand anything.

Before that can be explained further, Dakota and Leila arrive with their cohorts. Nico shares a look of camaraderie with the two centurions.

Octavian is upset that the two cohorts are following Reyna’s orders, once again, but Nico actually listens to what Octavian is saying, and Octavian is also generally more clear with his wording. Reyna left them, she’s the outlaw that abandoned them! Also, keeping the stuff about saving Rome.

This time, Nico recognises the feeling of being abandoned and betrayal that not only Octavian, but the rest of the legion, hold towards the Seven & Reyna. How Reyna’s choice to go on the Parthenos quest also meant her leaving them behind. He recalls Dakota’s words about how Jason and Reyna had been important in getting the legion there, that no matter what either of them did, the legion would always respect them. But how they ended up following Octavian because he's the one who stayed.

His actions might not be moral or correct, but many of the legion will forgive that - like how Dakota forgives Reyna for breaking the ancient laws. Nico understands the means of much he can show the Romans i.e. Octavian, how to forgive the Greeks.

But then, the Greek army arrive.

It was an impressive sight, but all Nico could think was: No. Not now.

BoO, page 430

We keep this! It fits better with such a scene because Nico is starting to think that his task isn’t just to bring the Parthenos. It’s to help heal the wounds between the two camps. As well as between the two sides of the legion. The Romans had followed Octavian for a reason. Many of them still do.

So even as the Athena Parthenos arrives, Nico knows it won’t be enough. He meets Octavian’s gaze across the battlelines and sees the rage within them. The unadulterated hatred for the Greek fighters. This Octavian is among his soldiers, much like he was in the battle against Polybotes. But it’s actually acknowledged.

Reyna gives her speech. But instead of everyone joining Reyna, the loyalties of the legion are split down the middle. The two factions suddenly solidify.

And then Gaia starts to wake.

At that moment, Octavian loses it - as he does in the original. He runs and Nico wants to follow, but he can't. They have a bigger fight.

It’s too late, he thinks. And realises Octavian had said the same thing just a little while earlier.

The Final Fight Sequence & My Changes

Switching out Nico’s POV, we still have the big fight, but significantly, Jason sees Nico fighting among the Roman demigods, not the Greeks. He doesn’t understand why Nico is doing so at first, but then - because he’s Jason - he realises that Nico might have found his answer. Much in the way Jason has.

Regardless, Will comes to Nico and points out Octavian loading an onager. Nico is the one to try to talk Octavian down. Not Will. We switch those roles, because that honestly makes more sense in how they were characterised up until that point.

Nico tries to reason with Octavian, saying that understands Octavian’s rage, but that they need to work together.

But Octavian just starts talking about having “run out of time” and such. It’s less about “stealing my glory” and more “I hate how you delayed my plans and now all of this is your fault!”

And, because I’m an Octavian fan and I think it would round out Nico’s arc really well, Octavian doesn’t die. They come to an understanding, moments before the end - but Gaia still needs to be taken down. And Octavian still believes it must be him to do it. Mike shows up and Octavian uses Mike to resist the two demigods.

But! When Octavian launches his onager, Nico uses his magic to summon a skeleton. Controlling the skeleton, he holds Octavian down as the onager goes off.

He sees Gaia fall just as he feels himself disappear. And, out of the smoke, the stunned figure of Octavian staring at him.

We have a moment where we think Nico is dead - gone for good. But to his surprise, he wakes up.

The Resolution Sequence & My Changes

Will and Octavian, both descendants of Apollo, have worked together to bring him back. Will uses his healing powers, Octavian uses the unicorn draught that the narrative established earlier. Their combined healing is strong enough to bring Nico back from the darkness.

Anyway, with that job done, Octavian stands up. He thanks Nico for saving his life, saying something about taking Nico’s words on board - or something suitably Octavian-esque.

Yet, as he moves off, he collapses. Mike holds him up. Octavian is unconscious from the pain and the emotion of it all. Mike says thank you, both as a translation of Octavian's words (because there's no way Octavian would actually say thank-you) and also from himself. He knows that Nico could have easily let Octavian die (in this version, Mike didn't notice the tangled robe situation).

He moves to carry Octavian away, but Will makes them stop. Mike is suspicious and Nico braces for conflict, but Will insists on healing Octavian. Octavian’s arms are laced with burns. He wakes up and there is a very brief moment of peace between them all, before the rest of the armies arrive and everyone pulls away.

Nico doesn’t know where to go in the next few days. He hides out in the Hades cabin but it doesn’t feel like home. What he does know that while on the surface everything is fine, they’ve won the war, there’s still tension in the air. The Seven are dealing with the loss of Leo. And the Romans are also dealing with the Reyna vs Octavian faction.

Both Reyna and Frank are outraged by Octavian’s actions. They want him brought to trial. Meanwhile, Octavian also wants them to be brought to trial. He doesn’t accept Frank as praetor.

Nico tells everyone that he wants to join the legion. Hazel is super happy. But, Nico reveals that he wants to be ratified in the “right way” i.e. by the augur. None of the others really understands this - but Nico insists that Octavian does it. He believes it will be the best way to remove the divisions in the legion. After all, the Third and Fourth cohort did turn on the rest during the fight. Even if they were following Reyna’s orders, that just means there is more resentment between the “Reyna faction” and the “Octavian faction” than ever.

Nico Joins the Legion

So at the celebration dinner, post the various funerals. We have a moment between Octavian where Nico helps Octavian forgive the Greeks, especially Percy. But also Reyna.

Before the crowd, Octavian announces Nico to be a member of the legion. Nico takes the oath. Reyna and Nico have their big hug:

She gave Nico a big hug and the crowd roared with approval. For once, Nico didn’t feel like pulling away. He buried his face in Reyna’s shoulder and blinked the tears out of his eyes.

Page 475, BoO

However, because it’s important, after the dinner, Octavian and Nico talk. Nico asks what Octavian was talking about during the battle and Octavian warns Nico about another threat. This is not explicit because we want to keep the ‘mystery’, kind of like how Rachel ended PJO with a prophecy.

Octavian admits he knows about it because he’s been working with the threat for years - “None trusts me, di Angelo. And that’s without knowing that I’ve been working with the enemy.”

“Why would you? Aren't you loyal to Rome?”

“Because… because family is complicated. I’m sure you know that better than most.”

Anyway, Octavian isn’t fully “redeemed” here. But instead, he’s taken his first step on the path. What happens here is that he’s humanised. And in a way that facilitates the character development of a main character and hero: Nico di Angelo.

If we had the ending like this, Nico stops just being “death boy”. His pain and suffering, his anger and his mistakes, they mean something - and the love that he finds with Reyna, Hazel and Jason allow Nico to work past it. To become the hero that can save people, not in the way the Seven do, but more on a psychological level.

#nico di angelo #octavian pjo #camp jupiter #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa

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mandoalorian · 3 years

Text

Borrowed Time [Din Djarin x F!Reader]

ੈ♡˳‧₊*: • Chapter 6: The Proposal ✩࿐ ˚.✧

Summary: You are the princess of Mandalore, held hostage on your own planet by Moff Gideon and his army of Imperial troopers. Left with no choice, you send out a distress signal; a plea for protection— and who comes? None other than Din Djarin, a foundling of The Death Watch. He, by creed, is your sworn enemy. And where you have asked for his protection, he has been told by his mentor that he must marry you and gain the ability to restore Mandalore to its former glory.

Word Count: 3000>

Warnings: arranged marriage mention, childhood trauma mention, food mention

Series Masterlist

Why was he so nervous? He shouldn’t be this nervous. Din was subconsciously pacing backwards and forwards, the weight of the beskar wedding ring pulling him down with every step he took. You were sitting in the corner, cradling Grogu in your arms and cooing sweet nothings into his ear. Grogu looked up at you with complete adoration, his big, dark eyes gleaming with admiration. Din could understand why he was so fond of you. You were so easy to love.

“I’m hungry,” you announced with a small frown. You had been stuck in the covert for around four hours and it was already well into the evening. “And so is he.” you said, smoothing your hand over the little green bean’s wrinkly forehead. Din omitted a small ‘hmph’, simply acknowledging your comment but choosing not to do anything about it. Everytime he looked at you, the butterflies in his stomach only became more erratic, and his heart swelled with yearn and anticipation. He was actually going to ask you to marry him.

There was no telling how you’d react. But rather than manipulating you into believing he loved you in order to gain the throne of Mandalore, like he had initially planned on, Din had gained far too much respect for you to do such a thing. Besides, how could he possibly pretend to love you when the chances were, he was already falling. So he had opted to be honest, and it would be brutal. But he had no other choice. It would be foolish for you to refuse his proposal considering everything that was at stake.

“We need to talk.” Din announced, taking Grogu from your arms and settling him down into the hovering cot. Taking a handful of sourberries from the sack in his pocket, he dropped them into his son’s claws and used his gauntlet to close the crib, offering a sense of privacy.

“We need to talk,” you quoted him, your frown only deepening as you stood up. “That doesn’t sound good.”

Din shuffled around awkwardly. He’d never imagined marrying anyone. He was a lone wolf, and always had been. But now he was with the most beautiful princess in the entire galaxy, and you looked like something straight out of a fairytale his mother would read him when he was just a child. You were too good for this world. You were filled with care and compassion and unconditional love, but not only that, you were a warrior and a fighter. You knew what you wanted and you wouldn’t stop until you got it. And it was his duty, as a Mandalorian, to protect his Manda’lor.

“We’re surrounded. By Imps… hunters… people who want you dead. People who will turn you in for a reward. You’re safe, here, in the covert. But we’ll have to leave eventually, and it won’t be easy.” Din confessed, shaking his head. He sounded uneasy, and the tone of his voice wasn’t lost on you. Just for once, you wished he’d remove that helmet of his so you could take a look into his eyes. It would help you gauge what exactly was going on.

“But the Mandalorians here will protect me, right? That’s what you said?” you asked, and Din wanted to curse himself. You were right, he did promise that, but as it turned out, not everything was as it seemed.

“On a condition…” he exhaled, trying to hold himself together. You furrowed your eyebrows in bewilderment, waiting for him to spit it out.

It annoyed you, slightly. Din hadn’t mentioned anything about conditions before. As far as he and the other Mandalorians were concerned, you were the Manda’lor, and so you expected the warranted protection from them without question. And honestly, Din had thought that too.

Din squeezed his eyes tight shut and tried to compose himself. He felt guilty, in a way. He could ask you this and even if you agreed, you could still hate him. And he really didn’t want you to hate him. He’d grown attached to you, and gained feelings for you, and it wasn’t ideal for a man of his nature, but it was just the way it was. You’d come into his and Grogu’s life and changed it completely.

Maybe marrying you wouldn’t be so bad. You were kind and gentle and absolutely beautiful. And Din had considered settling down before. Maybe this was his moment. He just had to suck it up and go for it.

“They will protect you only if you join the creed… our creed,” Din informed you, taking a deep breath. You stiffened up, wondering what exactly this implication was. You could never join his creed. He was Death Watch, responsible for the war and murder of not only Mandalore’s civilians, but also your mother. “Since you were born into another creed, and you are not a foundling, the only way you can join the Watch is through eloping.” Din continued and you couldn’t contain the small gasp that fell from your lips. You watched as the Mandalorian fished out the beskar wedding ring and held it before you between his gloved fingers.

“Are you… are you proposing?” you asked, feeling the tears well in your eyes.

“This is the way,” Din replied softly, and you had to force yourself to look away from the silver ring. “Please, please understand.”

“We… I…” you were speechless. Asking you to join his creed who you had spent your whole life despising (and for good reason) was one thing, but then asking you to be his wife as well? Those were two very separate ordeals that you were not expecting when you woke up this morning. “We’ve only just met…”

Din closed his eyes and sighed, preparing to face the rejection. “I know.”

“And I-- I can’t join your creed. I can’t. I can’t do it Din.” you pursed your lips together as you tried to hold back the tears. “Please don’t force me.”

“Hey hey, no, I would never force you,” Din shushed, stuffing the ring back into his pocket and taking a step closer to you, breaking any distance. He wrapped his strong arms around you and pulled you into his chest. “I wish there was another way, but there isn’t. The Armorer has made that very clear. If you refuse, then you’ll have to leave, and I won’t be able to help you anymore. I-- I don’t want you to leave…” Din admitted quietly and you swallowed.

“I don’t want to leave either.” you confessed, wiping away your tears and looking up at him.

“It’s your call. But you have until nightfall.”

It wasn’t necessarily the marriage you had a problem with -- but how could you join a creed that you spent so long hating? A creed that had caused you so much distress and dismay.

“The Watch has done bad things, and I can’t… I can’t. Din… you must understand.”

“I do,” Din said, taking your hands and sitting you back down. “My parents--my real parents--were killed by Separatists. It’s been thirty years and I still can’t think about it. They are my enemies, and to be asked to join them would feel like treason to my own bloodline.”

Obviously, Din had no idea why the Imperial’s had targeted a bounty on you. He had no idea why they wanted you so bad. But you knew exactly. The burden on your shoulders of being a runaway princess who was also pretending to be the Manda’lor was unbearable, but the knowledge of you being the Manda’lor was the only thing keeping Din by your side. If he learned the truth, he’d have no reason to protect you anymore. He’d leave you, just like everyone else had. And you couldn’t even blame him.

All you had to do was retrieve the darksaber once more and regain your right of passage to the Mandalorian throne.

“How can you just sit here and let them do this, let your creed do this? I get that they’re traditionalists but their actions have caused the onslaught of millions. They’re a danger.” you shook your head.

Ever since you had told Din of what his creed had done to your home and family, he’d thought about it, a lot. The process of leaving the Watch was never an option. They had brought Din up, trained him, and protected him. He owed it to them to stay. But if what you said was true, could he really stand and represent such a harmful community? He had a son to look after, and you. The last thing Din wanted was to get unbeknownst wrapped up in some terrorist organization he once called home.

He was grateful for the Watch, and the Armorer, but they had blackmailed him and gaslit him. He’d been so blinded by it all this time, brushing off their actions as ‘the way’ and knowing to never question it. But now it was all becoming more clear, especially after telling him that your protection relies on you joining their creed.

He understood how great it would be for the Watch if the literal Manda’lor became a member, but that didn’t mean it was right. Din’s delay in a response prompted you to speak up again.

“I’m sorry, this isn’t your fault.”

Din looked back up at you and tilted his head slightly as he admired your delicate features and tear stained cheeks. “Look, I shouldn’t say this, but as long as you pretend that you’re part of the creed and pretend to follow our rules, then there shouldn’t be much of an issue. We can utilize our warriors and get off Nevarro in one piece, and that should be our priority at the minute,” You nodded your head in understanding. He was right. “But we still need to elope. If you agree, the Armorer will bear witness and marry us tonight. And we can head out first thing tomorrow morning, before dawn.”

You bit your lip as you contemplated his suggestion. It wasn’t a bad call at all. It was simply just a negotiation. Din began to prepare himself to face another bout of rejection, but instead, you reached back into his pocket and took out the beskar wedding ring. Examining it carefully in your hands, you slid it down your wedding ring finger and held your hand to the candlelight, admiring the way it sparkled against your skin.

“Okay.” you hummed, not tearing your gaze from the ring. It was a symbol of commitment, although you certainly weren’t happy about it. What other choice did you have?

“Okay?” Din repeated incredulously.

“Okay,” you said, eventually looking up at the Mandalorian and offering him a shrug of your shoulders. “I’ll marry you.”

An air of silence filled the room, but, just like always, it was comfortable.

“I’ll go tell the Armorer--” Din said eventually, straightening out his posture. He couldn’t get the image out of his head. You were going to be his wife.

“--Din?” you said before he could leave the room. He paused in his tracks but made no effort to turn around and face you. “Thank you. For everything.”

The guilt was eating you alive. You had been lying to him. He’d taken you in, done everything in his power to protect you, and even trusted you with his kid. And this entire time, you had been lying to you. He was going to marry you because he believed you were the Manda’lor.

And you weren’t.

That was going to be an issue.

When Din returned from his conversation with the Armorer, he informed you that the ceremony would take place at midnight. And that you were both to exchange vows.

“With all due respect, we barely know each other. Vows might be a problem,” you giggled, feeling a blush cross your cheeks from his presence alone.

“We’ll do the traditional Mandalorian vows, then.”

You weren’t really surprised, with his creed in particular being such traditionalists. It wasn’t a bad option, though. “Do you think… uhm… before the ceremony, we could spend some time together? Learning about each other? In the midst of all this chaos, I think it would be nice to just… talk.”

Why were you so nervous? Clearly, Din was a man of a few words. He wasn’t one to just ‘talk’. But after this sacrifice you’d made, Din thought it was the least he could do. You were going to be his wife, after all.

“Okay.” Din mumbled, sitting down next to you.

“Uhm…” you felt your voice trail off as you wondered what you could ask him. “What’s your favourite colour?”

“Don’t have one.” He answered quickly.

“Everyone has a favourite colour.” you retorted, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Not me,” Din responded, and he was thankful in that moment his helmet shielded you from seeing the smile that graced his lips. He loved it when you pulled faces like that. He thought it was adorable. “What’s yours?”

“Uhm…” you thought for a moment, and then remembered the colour of your favourite and most delicious fruit. Sourberries. You hadn’t stopped craving them since the morning. “Pink.”

“Okay…” Din replied, storing that piece of information to the back of his mind as he pondered a question to ask you. “What was it like, growing up in a palace? Being royal.”

You and Din had led very different lives growing up, there was no doubt about that.

“It was all I’ve ever known. I recognise my privilege but… it wasn’t always easy.” you replied. You had never really talked about your experiences simply because you had no one to talk to them with.

“I remember when Duchess Satine died,” Din said, his voice quiet knowing that the mention of your mother might still have been sensitive. “Were you alone, after that?”

“Not really. My aunt looked out for me. And… there was this one Jedi Knight.”

Now that was certainly something you had never expected to talk about. In fact you had been warned by Bo-Katan to never mention the relationship between your mother and that one particular Jedi. You couldn’t remember him clearly, but still to this day, you felt some kind of attachment to him. It was hard to describe. It was a type of unconditional love. He was always there for you and Satine, protecting you both. Similarly, it was just like how Din protected you and Grogu.

He never spoke to you, but when you needed him, he was there. You could always rely on him. You weren’t sure where he was now, or if he was even alive. It had been many years.

“A Jedi?” Din questioned, his curiosity piquing. He remembered what the Armorer had told him when he took in Grogu -- about his ‘kind’ being Jedi. About how they were enemies. Sorcerers. “Wasn’t there a war between the Mandalorians and the Jedi?”

“There was, yes,” you said, looking down at the floor. Din pulled off his gloves and took your hand. The skin on skin contact was enough to take your breath away. He rubbed comforting circles into your wrist as he waited for you to continue. “But my mother, like the Jedi, was a pacifist.”

“I wouldn’t say the Jedi were pacifists…” Din uttered a little too quickly.

“You have a point,” you replied after a brief moment of silence. “But this Jedi in particular… he was a good man. I wish I could’ve met him in my adolescence. I wish I could thank him.”

“Do you remember his name?” Din asked, his mind immediately thinking about the prospect of somehow locating the Jedi. If there was a way he could bring his parents back and thank them for all they had done, he would. This man was clearly a parental-like figure to you, and if he was important to you, he was important to Din.

“I don’t,” you shrugged helplessly, biting back more tears. “A few years ago I asked my aunt. I know she remembers but she just chooses to withhold that information from me. She tells me that she’s doing it to protect me.”

“I’m so sorry.” Din whispered, smoothing out your hair and pressing a keldabe kiss to your forehead. The coolness of his beskar helmet stung your forehead and, in that moment, you found yourself yearning for more.

You yearned to feel his body heat and the warmth of his lips. You yearned to see his face and memorize every detail. You yearned to tangle your fingers in his hair… you assumed that he did, in fact, have hair.

At least now, you wouldn’t have to wait so long.

“I should get ready for the ceremony, and you should too,” Din declared, eventually pulling away from you completely. He dug into his pocket and pulled out the small sack of sourberries that he’d gotten earlier. “These are for you.” he said, putting the sack into the palm of your hand.

You loosened the straw ribbon and took a peek inside. It was the pretty pink fruit you had been craving for so bad.

When you told him you didn’t like the bone broth, he’d gone out and found you sourberries.

Even though he said they were far too expensive.

He’d done it for you.

Because he loved you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

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subbing-for-clones · 3 years

Text

The Alpha and The Omega Part 4

Alpha Maul x Omega Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

WARNINGS: Cursing, Mentions of death (bounty hunting), mentions of drinking to be done in the next chapter, reluctant pining

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Maul had stayed in the cockpit much longer than it was necessary, allowing autopilot to guide the Wolf through hyperspace. He was silently obsessing why you had felt the need to call another hunter; another Alpha. He couldn’t explain to himself or anyone else who would be stupid enough to ask why this upset him so much. He remembered what Zeni and Coth had said; Bane got you into the guild and the both of you had traveled around together for a bit over a year, long after your membership had been established with the house. He had been told that you were unmated but he couldn’t stop his mind from wondering if a close comradery was all you had shared with the Duro. The thought left a sour taste in his mouth.

He eventually left the cockpit when he smelled something in your pheromones change, not being able to place it exactly, he ventured out. When he found you, he almost smirked at the sight before him. One he hadn’t ever seen before. The mighty lone Omega had buried herself completely in his sofa bed under the blanket she had lent him. Every few seconds her hand would dart out to snatch a piece of jerky from a plate on the nearby table and pull it under the blanket.

He slowly approached; mind set on taking some of the food for himself but he stopped in his tracks when a low growl rumbled out from the mess of fabric. He took a step back until it subsided. Warily he took another step forward and outstretched his hand earning a second growl that he was sure humans wouldn’t normally be able to make.

He had become familiar with some of the cultural dynamics of the cross subspecies but as for the specific habits and instincts, he was uneducated to say the least. Equally confused as he was humored, he took another step back, gauging the perimeter around you that you suddenly required. He finally decided what the smell you were giving off was; aggression. But not outwardly so, a defensive aggression. One that said back the fuck up, so he did; not without poking the proverbial bear though.

“I understand that this is your ship, and everything in it belongs to you. However,” he watched as you peered out from your wrap, “we have six hours before we reach Hoth and I would like to rest.” He didn’t really need to. He had and could again go, days without sleep. However, he was not one to avoid getting under someone’s skin when the opportunity presented itself.

You eyed him carefully with your eyes narrowed. Finally, ‘the bitch’ gave up for a moment so that you could understand his reasoning. With a huff, you stood with his blanket still wrapped around you and grumbled nonsense under your breath until you reached the door to your room. You glanced over your shoulder just long enough to catch his confused gaze before you turned and entered your sanctuary. Ignoring how he sniffed the air in the path you had just walked. You locked your door and turned on the incredibly dim colorful lights and pressed a remote that played soft music. You continued to grumble about stupid inconsistent cycles. It wasn’t a full-on heat like you normally experienced, more like a nagging annoyance in the back of your mind, dulled needles underneath your skin.

After trying several different placements for the blanket saturated in his scent you finally found one that ‘the bitch’ was satisfied with. Clamoring into your vast array of blankets, pillows and other various soft things you settled in its center and closed your eyes; preparing for the tremors that you were convinced would come. Just as you got comfortable, your vambrace started beeping and an obscenely offensive red light blinked in time with the wretched noise. Growling audibly, you reached for your table and strapped it on to your wrist, violently pressing the answer button.

“Fucking. What?” your teeth clenched so hard they could crack.

“Last I recall you’re the one who wanted to talk. Had a question or something,” the Duro’s head lit up in that blue only holo-comms could emanate. You pinched the bridge of your nose and scrunched your eyes shut apologetically.

“Sorry. Yeah, yeah I do,” you opened your eyes slowly and looked at him, almost hoping he could just pry the information out of your head so you wouldn’t have to say it out loud.

“Well, you gonna ask or what ‘Meg?” he folded his arms across his chest already tired.

“So, I’m sponsoring an Alpha who didn’t know what he was until a few months ago…” you started, hoping that either Zeni or Coth had filled him in in the few days that you’d been gone.

“Heard something about that. I know the guy, did a job with him back before I picked you up. Something about a captured Jedi he wanted to hunt. Didn’t talk much.” Your eyes widened at the new information. “You haven’t told anyone about that bit, have you?”

“The fuck do I look like kid?” he was almost offended at the implication that his lips even held the ability to flap. Even if they could they wouldn’t. The sigh that escaped you was exasperated in your relief.

“So, what about him. Is he fucking with you?” his eyes narrowed further and the last word came out as a protective growl.

“No, no he’s fine but I’m not.”

“’Meg if you don’t start speaking plainly, I swear to Maker I’ll find and kill you both.”

“He smells…. Different. Intense. More so than any other Alpha I’ve ever come into contact with,” you chuckled, “even more than Fett.” His eyes widened and he thought for a moment before responding.

“When was your last cycle? Has he triggered another one?”

“I mean maybe a week or so ago? I wouldn’t call it a new one, feels different. Lighter? ‘The Bitch’ is talking more in my ear and I’m starving. Like, fucking famished.” He nodded with his fingers on his chin looking off to the side.

“Where are you right now and where is he?”

“On the way to Hoth.”

“No, I mean on the ship. Where are the both of you?”

“Oh, I’m in my room; doors locked. He’s in the common,” you glanced at the door like it was possible he could’ve manifested on your side of the durasteel door. The force could do some crazy shit but teleportation wasn’t on the list as far as you knew. Even for a Sith.

“Good. You’re not gonna like the answer ‘Meg. Don’t shoot the messenger,” your eyes snapped back to his projection, waiting for him to continue.

“Someone always smells best, stronger. Mine did, Coth and Zeni got that. Not everyone gets it or waits long enough to find it but I’d put five quarries’ credits worth on the fact that that guys’ your Alpha.”

“W-what? No, that story’s bullshit. That’s not real, is it?” He growled slightly angrily in his response.

“I said.. I fucking had it. It’s why I can’t ever have another. Don’t doubt anything cause you’ve never known it before. Like me saying your Jedi force shits fake. Ignorance I can handle ‘Meg; arrogance I won’t put up with.”

You couldn’t respond. This is not what was supposed to happen. You were going to live your life as the lone Omega, ‘Meg the hunter. Live your life in solitude only occasionally coming to the surface to socialize with your pack members to stave off the inevitable loneliness.

“Sorry, no you’re right. I just, don’t want that? I guess, you just shocked me was all. I didn’t mean to offend you or your Omega.”

He visibly relaxed and sighed as he rubbed his head under his hat.

“Do what you gotta do. Whether that means scenting him, mating, kicking him out now, or waiting till you finish what you started with him. You don’t need to explain yourself. But that’s my best guess to your question kid.” You nodded and stared off for a moment away from the door. You thanked your old friend for his time and his insight before hanging up and rolling over and failing to find rest as the tremors started.

Maul truly had no clue what had crawled into your skin and possessed you. He wondered for a moment if some cousin to Dathomirian magick had made its way into the ship before shaking his head. That would be ridiculous. He had grabbed another of the no less than what guessed were a thousand blankets from the shelf and laid back. He didn’t really try to eavesdrop but when he recognized the voice that was speaking to you, he bristled. He only caught a few words while he passed, faking a trip to the fresher should you be able to feel him through the force. On his way there he realized that you were in fact as affected by his scent as he was yours and that it wasn’t necessarily normal. On his way back he couldn’t hear your words but it sounded like you had received some information that you really didn’t want to hear.

The pheromones that you gave off were those of fear mixed with frustration and anger. He wondered how long you would’ve lasted as a Jedi if they hadn’t thrown you out. Despite his bitterness the overwhelming urge to comfort you assaulted his every sense. He pushed it down with a snarl at himself before stalking back to the cockpit trying to put some distance between the heady smells.

He must have watched you eat at least three pounds of the dried meat hastily while gearing up to venture out onto the frozen wasteland. A small part of him wanted to ask what all this was about with you but the larger part of him knew it wasn’t his business unless you made it his business. He settled for simply asking if you were alright. You threw a sarcastic ‘perfect’ over your shoulder before throwing yourself out into the blizzard.

You had yet again, not permitted him to bring his saber. Jabba usually wanted a head over a warm body but bodies couldn’t pay their debts, and this particular Talz owed him big. He had thought it worth the expense to make an example himself out of this smuggler. Maul was just as frustrated as he had been last time but was silent about it, much to your personal relief. You were in no mood for argument and he no doubt could sense it.

He had landed the ship just outside a large cavern, the tracking fob blinked rapidly, signaling that the one you sought was close by. As you entered the cave you had expected to run into a Wampa or two. Bones of different creatures varying in size had alluded to it being home to one of the creatures. What you had not expected was to walk right into an onslaught of blaster fire.

Maul had force pushed you roughly to the ground a couple meters away from your position; landing you behind a large enough boulder for you to take cover behind. Cautiously, you looked to the side through the bolts to find him taking refuge along the wall behind stone that jut out from the wall with his blaster pointing to the circling, looking to you for approval.

You took a flash grenade out of your utility belt, hit the countdown button and tossed it; taking cover before the blinding light filled the cavern. It must have been cheaper to hire guns than pay Jabba, six humans doubled over covering their faces allowing you to take a few shots. After putting down three yourself fairly quickly you looked over at your companion again. He was firing alright but not hitting a damn thing.

“I thought you said you were ‘quite familiar with other forms of weaponry!’” you shouted over the returned fire in a slightly mocking tone.

His response was only to look at you with wild, angry eyes that made you double over laughing in the thick of the standoff. You rolled your eyes and shook your head. You raised your blaster and took out two more, leaving one man and your quarry. You turned to face Maul and crossed your arms in your seated position behind the boulder smiling toothily at him, nodding your head to the last man.

It took him a few shots but he managed to hit the hired gun square in his chest. You missed the glint in his eye but felt his pride through the force before he covered it again and chuckled to yourself once more. You could see the Talz shaking as he raised his blaster in his trembling hand as he slowly backed up. You pulled out your blow gun and loaded one of your tranquilizer darts. The long needle glinted ominously in the low light of the cavern, Maul watched as you took a deep breath and bring the long tube up to your mouth and wrap your lips around it. The dart flew with a short huff of breath as the Talz turned to run; striking him directly in his spine.

The toxin took hold before the quarry could take another step, dropping to the floor with a thud and a grunt. You stood from your position and made your way over to the first of the dead body guards. Maul went to bind and secure the smuggler while you scoffed at the small number of credits you pulled from the dead’s pockets. They really didn’t get paid shit, and they died for it. You almost felt bad for them; now wasn’t the time to get soft though. They took the job and they paid the price for it, just like you risked each and every job you took. No different from the rest of the pack.

You handed Maul half of the measly amount and one of the better blasters that one of the men carried. He hoisted the Talz onto his back and raised his brow at you before taking what you had offered.

“I told you half of what we make is yours. This falls under that category despite the fact that it’s not technically a bounty prize, I don’t go back on my word once I give it.”

He nodded his head in thanks and followed you back to the ship. Once the smuggler was frozen in the carbonate, you led him back to the cave. He watched as you dragged the bodies of the fallen gunmen to various positions and distances. You made your way back to him and when he opened his mouth to speak you raised your hand to cut him off.

“That was a fucking atrocious display if I’m being honest. Mildly disappointing if I’m being kind,” he snapped his mouth shut with a quiet clink of his teeth. “You can’t bring your saber to the higher paying jobs, as I’ve said, too many witnesses. Do you want to pick off the bottom of the barrel, cheap thieves for your career?” he crossed his arms and glowered at you.

“No, but what would it matter if I only go after those who are wanted dead?” you jut out your hip and rested your hand on it while rolling your eyes.

“You allow yourself to wield a crutch. What if you’re attacked in public? The longer you play the game the more likely it is to happen. You going to flash your pretty red blade and take out an entire town to maintain secrecy or are you going to be smart about it?”

He growled at your logic and took out the blaster you had plucked off of the corpse. You watched him take a few rushed shots before snarling to himself at all of his misses. You silently walked over to him and kicked the insides of his ankles lightly to widen his stance and kicked one of his heels to push it forward a few inches. He allowed you to but not without a glare. You pulled out your own blaster and demonstrated how with your dominant hand you gripped it tightly, pointer finger lined up with the barrel. With your other hand you held your palm to the bottom of the grip and wrapped your fingers around both it, and your other hand to stabilize it; bending your elbows slightly and raising the sights to your eyes.

He followed your movements with the accuracy of a mirror. You didn’t speak until you saw him close one eye to aim, “both eyes open, its more accurate,” you demonstrated again and fired your blaster a single time, hitting the furthest target square between his eyes.

In only three shots, Maul had hit two targets square in the chest, knocking them over. You backed up and watched him practice. It was slow going but after resituating the corpses he knocked over multiple times he had started to get consistent hits on them. When you were satisfied with his progress you lifted a head sized rock with the force and moved it side to side a decent distance in front of him. Moving targets were always a different game compared to stationary ones and the victorious glint in his eyes when he landed a single shot took you back a few years to when Bane was teaching you to shoot.

The twin suns were beating down on you harshly in the desert that stretched out as far as you could see in any direction. The sand here was what water is to the ocean, swallowing up everything in its path. The durasteel of the ship was growing hotter and hotter by the minute under your belly and you could hear Bane curse under his breath. You didn’t have to see him on the ground below you to know his eyes were pointed in the same direction as yours, the massive skeleton of a creature you couldn’t name even if you tried. Hopefully they were extinct or at least, nowhere in the area. It lay against the horizon three hundred meters away, unscathed by your attempted blasts.

“Bane, it’s really hot up here. Can’t I come down and try again tonight?”

“Hell no, next job ‘m gonna need you to cover me from ‘nother building ‘Meg. Either you’ll hit the target or melt onto my ship tryin. Focus, the scope is doin all the hard work for you. Breath like those Jedi taught you over so many years. Take the shot when you let your breath out. Closest thing I ever come to meditation is behind the scope and you’ll do the same now until you make your mark.”

You had taken his suggestion to heart and waited before your next shot, breathing deeply and slowly. Sweat pooled on your forehead before gathering enough to drip down your face and streaming between your breasts as the minutes ticked by. Bane was silent as you focused your shot. With one last deep breath you slowly let the air out of your lungs and squeezed the trigger. You looked through the scope again and saw that you had indeed scorched the beast just below its eye socket like you had been instructed to do. You leapt to your feet and whooped unceremoniously in your gleeful victory. You cast a prideful look down at Bane who never turned to look at you.

“You can come down after you do it five more times.”

Your shoulders sagged and you audibly groaned, the skin on your belly getting ready to blister from the hot hull of the ship. You could have sworn at the time you had heard your literal and figurative cold blooded companion chuckle.

You smiled at the memory as you now spoke the words of your mentor to an all too full of himself Zabrak after he hit the floating rock a single time. “We can warm up in the ship after you hit it five more times handsome.” Just as yours had, his shoulders visibly dropped but he said nothing and carried on his target practice.

When he had accomplished the goal you laid out for him you had reached your limit in the frigid environment. When you left the cavern, the air whipped around you violently while a vicious flurry burned the exposed skin of your face. Snow had piled up even deeper around you and a thick white blanket shielded your view. You hit a button on your vambrace to open the hatch that both you and the Zabrak scurried inside. You shivered wildly as you stripped out of your already soaked outer layers. Blizzards always caught you off guard on Hoth, you hated the planet for a plethora of reasons and would take a planet like Tatooine over this frozen wasteland any day if you had the choice.

By Maul’s body language you assessed that he would as well. His jaw was clenched yet his body still shook of its own accord from the cold. You set a pot on your stove, readying it to brew life-saving hot caf. While the water boiled you had taken first dibs in the sanistream. Under the hot water you thanked whatever gods were responsible for staving off whatever kind of ‘light heat’ you had experienced. Maul barley waited for you to fully exit the fresher before he was stripping off his tunic an indulging himself in the shower just as you had. You bit back a chuckle while you made your way to the cock pit with steaming caf in hand. You watched the blizzard from the safety and heat provided by the combination of durasteel and trans-durasteel walls of the Wolf, allowing your mind to wander.

You had never really been a caf drinker when you were a Jedi. Your master couldn’t drink it and most of the others you surrounded yourself with looked down on the drink despite filling themselves with various teas like your old friend. You had always teased Obi Wan for loving the sugary flowery varieties over any else. Like with many other things it was Bane who introduced you to the dark ‘life sustainer’ as he called it. He laughed at how you scrunched your face up the first few times you drank it but after thirty-three hours awake steaking out a quarry you needed the boost to function.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when you downed the last of your cup and you sighed at the chore of walking the six meters to the kitchen to pour yourself another cup. Like he could read your mind, and he probably could, Maul’s hand extended from behind you and took your mug. He returned a few minutes later, two steaming cups in hand, and took his seat in the co-pilot’s chair. The two of you continued to watch the snow storm in a comfortable silence.

The quiet was broken by an incoming holo-comm. You always found the beeping to be unnecessarily jarring when the air was still. Maul simply leaned back in his seat while you answered it, the top half of your favorite Mandalorian appearing in the familiar blue hue, you grinned cheekily at the man who had half-heartedly tried to court you on multiple occasions.

“Mando Fett,” you teased, “What’s up?” His helmeted head lowered slightly in a silent sigh but your companion quickly caught his attention and he straightened his back again.

“Heard you were rolling around with another Alpha.”

“Mmm, yeah, some of what Zeni spills is the truth. Or at least half true. Heard you were the one who gave him the card.”

Maul nodded his head once in greeting to Jango who returned the gesture.

“Yeah, I did.”

“So what’s going on? Need a hand getting out of a sticky spot or do you come with holo-roses this time?” you leaned back and put your feet up on the dash, taking another gulp of caf while waggling your eyebrows at your fellow bounty hunter.

“Neither actually,” he chuckled, “I know how you love a good hunt and I’ve caught word that the Jawas on some back water planet are offering an unusually high price for Mud Horn eggs. Plus their horns always fetch a nice price, someone’s always ready to buy the hides. I figured I’d extend the invitation to you and your cold-blooded outlaw friend. New guy can come along too of course. What do you say, wanna go have some from away from the office?”

“Hmm,” you animatedly tapped a finger to your chin, “the promise of a good hunt, decent credits and you bring the beer, what’s the catch?” you smiled coyly.

“First off, bring your own booze. Secondly,” he unsheathed a large viroblade, “I say we make it interesting.”

“No blasters?”

“No blasters.”

“You’ll have to pry Bane’s from his cold dead hands.” Jango laughed loudly, “please, he’s not just a gunman, he’s an alpha. All I have to do is poke at his pride a bit and he’d take a few down with his bare hands and his teeth just to put all us younglings in our place.”

You laughed this time and turned to your tattooed companion, “what do you say? Wanna take a break from chasing quarries and go on a hunt for a day or two? It’ll still get you credits.”

Maul took a second to glance around the cock-pit and looked at all the pictures that had been taken from various hunting parties and for the first time in his life he actually had the want to experience something like that. Yes, he had battled and defeated an array of fearsome monsters but it had always been a solo operation and for only the benefits of getting stronger and proving his worth to his master. It seemed like his new peers viewed such acts as a time to be enjoyed and remembered, the promise of credits was an added bonus as well.

“Alright, a day or two wouldn’t put us behind schedule, would it?” his velvety yet raspy voice that you hadn’t heard in hours cut through you like a lightsaber and you caught your whimper in your throat but not without creasing your brows in annoyance.

“No it wouldn’t. you’ll just be stuck with me a little longer.” He shrugged his shoulders in response so you turned your attention back to the image of the other hunter.

“Alright, we’ll be there. Send me the coordinates. We’re on Hoth at the moment so we’ll be there in however long it takes to meet you leaving from here.”

“I’ll wait just for the sake of missing your complaints of taking a head start.” You couldn’t see his face but you could hear the smile in his voice. You pointed a finger gun in his direction, “head start or not I’ll still bag more eggs and more horns than you.”

The both of you laughed as you hung up the call right before the transmitted coordinates synced in your nav computer. Three Alphas, one Omega, and a promising hunt. This is going to be really fun or go horribly wrong. Either way, you’d get some good pictures out of it.

Taglist:

@thundersheild

@gotham-city-uber-driver

@scorpioxsith

#maul x reader #tpm #tpm au #darth maul #bounty hunter #maul #hothunks #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o #star wars au #star wars #maul fanfiction #darth maul fanfiction

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hitozy · 3 years

Text

twin stars ‹ masterlist › have you ever

𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢

Iwaizumi had forgotten how rowdy his friends are, and one isn't physically present.

He had not seen any of his friends since the wedding and even then he didn't get to see and chat with them very long, he was out of it that day. But here he is on a Friday night, with YN sitting beside him per request of the three dumbasses sitting across from them; Maki and Mattsun with Oikawa on their phone screen, demanding attention like the needy shit he has always been.

He feels you more than he hears you laugh at whatever the others are telling you and he takes a chance to take a peek, as if he hasn't been doing that since you walked out of the room to go out with him.

Your short black skirt that he had already thought was short when you were standing is even shorter now as you sat, it barely covered your ass, leaving your beautiful legs on display for all the perverts. On top of that you wore a skin tight shirt that had a boob window and he has been wanting to punch every creep that keeps on looking at it. He wants to snarl at every single person that makes a double take on her, of course she's beautiful.

She's also too good for anyone out there.

He relaxes as he watches her laugh freely, her cheeks tinted pink, her eyelashes wet from laughing so hard at his friends antics. He decided he should bring her to these reunions from now on, take her out more, she must feel lonely just doing school work and being at home since most of her friends are to engrossed on their future or on their relationships.

"Earth to Iwachan!" He felt someone smack his head, finding the culprit to be a smirking Mattsun, "We get it! You're married and happy, I mean..." Mattsun, Maki and Oikawa all turn to look at YN, "I can blame you, YN has always been the most beautiful woman in our life."

YN, used to their flirty but harmless antics snorts at it, "That's not what I heard when Hajime and I walked in as you fucked that 2nd year cheerleader. What has her name again? Mina?" She smirked at it, making Iwaizumi laugh at the memory. He had been horrified and had accidentally pulled you into the bathroom instead of running outside. Both stuffed uncomfortably in there while hearing Mattsun pound (roughly) into the poor girl until the cheerleader moaned out a 'Daddy' to Mattsun, making you both laugh and interrupted them.

Mattsun laughed at it, "I can still hear you both laughing about it! What's so wrong about having a Daddy kink, huh? YOU KINK SHAMERS!"

"You weren't even close to daddy age, Mattsun!" YN joined Iwaizumi's laughter, leaning against him for support, "You were only 18, what's so 'daddy' about that!?"

Mattsun only huffed at that and Iwaizumi thought that maybe he was angry, the slight scowl on his face as he watched YN grip his bicep as she hid behind him from laughter remained there for a long time afterwards.

―

YN had just gotten up for the bathroom when his friends sharp glances turned to him. Usually, he would ignore it since it really wasn't their business, but he know from experience that if he keeps on avoiding it, they'll get worse.

Taking a sip from his beer and without sparing a glance to any of them, he gives. "Just spit it out."

It wasn't a surprise that shittykawa was the one to initiate it, "I can't believe YN took your stupid ass in marriage."

He turned to glare at his friend on the screen, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that she could've and SHOULD HAVE gone for someone who is emotionally available and isn't still chasing after his ex."

"I- this marriage is just - it's-"

"It's what?" Mattsun interrupts him, "Convenience? Because she's your friend, so its comfortable? You think that's fair?" He scoffs at Iwaizumi and it makes him feel small, "She's so in love with you and you don't even see it," he points at his, harshly poking his chest, "its so infuriating seeing you chasing after that other bitch when YN has always been right there!" He takes a swing of his drink, obviously irritated with his wedded friend.

"I- its-... she isn't in love with me, we're friends, best friends." What the hell is wrong with his friends? "What the hell is this? Why do any of you care about me and yn? You guys said you were happy about me marrying her!"

"We were, until we saw that you aren't in love with her."

Iwaizumi feels his heart drop at his friends deadpanned expressions. He doesn't regret marrying YN, he just wishes he had done it under normal circumstances.

"I'm trying."

"We know Iwachan," he looks up to see Oikawa giving him a pained smile, "But you need to cut off Jae for good. YN deserves at least that."

"Speaking of the queen of Rome... someone is following her."

Iwaizumi feels his body tense at Mattsun's words, someone is following you? He turns a bit to catch you fast walking towards their table, a worried expression on your face. He can also see the creep walking behind you, eyeing you hungrily.

He doesn't like it.

Once she makes it to the table, all of the boys can see how out of breath she is and wonder just how long she's been trying to avoid him. She sits beside Iwaizumi, meeting no one's eye and soon enough the guy is there with a smirk, "Hey baby, why did you runaway? Come on, ditch these losers and come with me instead."

He has no right, Iwaizumi knows that he has no right to get so mad at this perverts words but he can't help the possessiveness that is pouring out of himself, blinded by rage, he acts on impulse.

Iwaizumi pulls her close to him, seating her casually on his lap and looking square at this randos eye, says, "She's taken, beat it."

When he notices that the other one is about to open his mouth, he cuts him off by kissing her instead.

The last time he had kissed her was while she was drunk and it hadn't felt right to return it since she was very out of it. Now though? Now, they're both pretty sober and in public. His friends are at arms length and he can't find it in himself to give a damn when your lips feel like the softest pillows ever.

He gripped the back of her neck to angle her face and kiss her deeply, he was surprised to feel her kissing him back with the same fervor. She took the hand he had on her knee up to her thigh, which he gripped on immediately and pressed her chest against his, her small hands clutching his shoulders as if her life depended on it.

At the back of his mind, he could hear his friends wolf whistles and a couple of others exclaiming at the way they were making out, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. She was here, she was present and so warm underneath his fingers, her lips following his, her tongue exploring his mouth just as he was with her.

He didn't know for how long they had been kissing, but when he slightly pulled apart, her lips were red and swollen, her eyes sparkled and shined like diamonds underneath the sunlight. She looked adorable and he felt his heart throb painfully in his chest.

"Well... I guess I'm not the only exhibitionist anymore, huh?"

His friends laughed when YN started to blush and the implication that was made. With Iwaizumi still feeling a bit high from what had happened, he pulled her against him close, his grip tight and barked, "Leave her alone, you pervs."

After a few jabs directed to him, they continued as if nothing had happened, though he did catch them stealing glances at him with raised eyebrows, questioning his actions at the passionate kiss he shared with her.

I don't know what's happening either, he thought as he peered down to look at her face, feeling himself blush at how small and comfortable she looked in this lap, in his arms, but I know I'm in trouble.

―

When they got home later that night, he feels himself feeling hot and bothered by every move you make. You way your hanged your purse at the entrance, the way you shook your hair out of its up do, the way you leaned forward to take of your heels.

He followed you down the hall to your shared room, watching the way your hips moved side to side tantalizingly. His hand itched, he wanted to move closer and glue himself to your back, to hold your waist in one hand as the other guided your head to kiss him, to have the hand on your waist dip down and shove his digits in your panties to find them soaking wet, to hear you sigh out his name "Hajime, please."

"Hajime."

"...Hajime?"

Your solid voice pulled him out of his trance, a blush adorning his face in shame. I need to snap out of it, its too late to be so horny about my best friend. "Yeah mochi?"

"I um..." He noticed they way she was twirling her hair around, a nervous habit she's had since they were kids and wondered what could have her in such a state. "I- urgh, there's no easy way to say it."

She smacked herself in that moment. "Mochi?!"

He would've moved forward, if it wasn't for the solid gaze she had, her shoulders pulled back, full of intent.

"Hajime, I want you to take my virginity."

... What

When words run dry, he does not try, nor do I.

We are on par.

He just is, I just am

and we just are.

He and I - Lang Leav

taglist ! @daphnxy @zukoslosthishonor @i-am-a-hoe-for-shinya @mrsdoradominguez-barnes @anejuuuuoy

a/n! went on vacation and forgot to queue the post for this chapter, im so sorry, my bad D:

#owwaw #owwaw💔#iwaizumi fic #iwaizumi hajime fic #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi smut #this a suggestive chapter not a lot is happening but just to be safe

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wh6res · 3 years

Text

“𝑰’𝑴 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑳𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻, 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑶𝑵𝑳𝒀 𝑺𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑶𝑼𝑹.”

part of the 21 ways to kill your lover collab hosted by the lovely miss solange @du0tine

pairing. entity! xdj & f! reader | word count. 5.4k

synopsis. he wasn’t a god, he wasn’t a devil, and fuck, he’s surely not an angel, but he will be your saviour and your light ‘till kingdome come.

warnings. tread with caution. yandere/possesive themes, religious themes, violence, mentions of gore, swearing, mentions of ptsd, mentions of physical abuse, a lot of character deaths, manipulation, stalking, and implications of suicide

disclaimer. i do not condone whatever tf i wrote in this nor does it reflect my beliefs or values or morals and such. it is all pure fiction and i also dont think xiaojun from wayv would act like this in real life.

a soul’s vulnerability gives him strength. he has scourged far and wide and has yet to encounter a soul as interesting as yours. he never thought a heart filled with hatred and a fragile mentality can be such a sweet combination. xiaojun would be stupid not to latch his greedy talons onto you.

he hides in the darkest corners of your room at night, unseen and unheard, just watching over you like a predator to his poor unsuspecting gazelle before diving into the anticipated chase.

he moves in with you into the cheap apartment you got for yourself here in the big city—which he thinks is an awful move because of how lonely it’ll be. but hey, it wasn’t anyone’s fault that you got chased out of your own home by your stepdad, your very own biological mom too scared to say a peep of defense to your name.

your downfalls became xiaojun’s highlights.

he would’ve felt sorry for you after finding out about that abusive old man. ugh, he scowls. your stepdad makes the entity’s blood boil and he doesn’t even have blood to begin with. the same man who holds the bible in his left hand when he preaches sermons for the people, is the same hand he uses to hit you across the face.

the same hand he uses to pull at your hair. the same hand he uses to punch your gut. the same hand he uses to shove your mom down when she tries interfering.

xiaojun may hate men of god but above all, he absolutely detests the kind your old man is—a faker, who thinks he can get away with the shit mess he’s making. xiaojun would never take that preacher’s murky soul even if he offered it to the entity voluntarily. fake. fake. fake. fake. fake. xiaojun should’ve killed him. xiaojun should’ve slit his throat. xiaojun should’ve torn his eyes out—

ah, ah, ah.

he can’t afford to make you any less vulnerable than you already are, now, can he? after all, he can be anything you want but he’s no angel.

so he watched from the sidelines.

watched you cry. watched you bleed. watched your scars form. watched the hate and resentment you have for your own family fester in your heart until it grew to a size you can’t hide within yourself anymore.

and then you left home.

xiaojun has to admit, for a second, maybe leaving home will make your soul unworthy, will break the mold he’s already had of you and will completely spoil his well-thought out plans.

so really, he can only scoff when he watches you walk around the apartment wearing that pretty dress on a sunday morning, darting around with calculated steps to shove everything inside your bag to go to church. the dress hangs nicely against your skin but he’d rather you stay and wear nothing.

maybe you’d finally find contentment and happiness in this place, in this city, on your own. soaring high without a cage, without someone to hold you back—these things fill his thoughts like a plague until you come barging back into the door 30 minutes later.

he’s been watching you long enough to know church service wouldn’t end for another 30 minutes or so. xiaojun’s eyebrows quirk up. why would his fragile little gazelle come back oh so early? but his question is immediately answered when he detects your shaky breaths and the unshed tears in your glistening eyes

you’re suffering the post-traumatic effects your shit stepdad has caused. seeing another preacher must’ve been a trigger, he thinks, eyeing you with a look on his face. xiaojun felt a little stupid. of course, swimming to the surface will be tough with all that trauma anchoring you down.

it’ll be tough, indeed… so why not sink you even deeper?

it didn’t take much energy for him to start manipulating your dreams. every nap, every deep sleep, he’d replay all the horrible things your stepdad has done to you and he realizes how dreams depicted from his perspective took a larger toll on you versus the ones from your own point of view—witnessing for yourself how weak and helpless you had been seemed to chip away bigger parts of you, he notices. your terrified screams when waking up in cold sweat getting louder and louder with every passing nightmare.

he pushed, and pushed, and pushed until you were standing right at the edge of sanity. until you start questioning your own self-worth and judgment, the invisible chains of the trauma too strong to break. until your radiant skin looked deathly, with gaunt cheeks and white lips. until you developed a fear of sleeping because no, you don’t want to witness those horrors again. no. no. no. no, please don’t hit me—

xiaojun can’t help but admire his handiwork but no, he doesn’t have time for that!

the next time you fell asleep you had been desperately holding onto your 5th bottle of gatorade like it was a torch breaking through the darkness. you’ve intake so much of the energy drink that your body has grown used to it. you would’ve switched to caffeine, but from how much you drank it prior to the energy drinks, your blood is practically coffee at this point.

“you’re living in my house now, young lady! i’d like to see some respect from your or i’ll fucking beat it into you!”

“stop! please. hit me instead, hit me!”

“this is all your fault, bitch! how can you raise one daughter wrong? no wonder your husband left you!”

murky and black, you can’t even see the bottom at this point. it keeps pulling you down, and down, and down, until you couldn’t breathe. until your head feels light. until your heart beats erratically within your ribcage as you fought to the surface.

with all the negative emotions surging through you in thunderous waves, it’s a wonder how no other lonesome, starving entity has latched onto you like xiaojun. although realistically, he was here first, as if he’ll let any other being like him go near you.

it took a greater amount of energy to twist and manipulate the plotline of certain events in a dream. if xiaojun hadn’t grown strong from all your negativity, he’d never be able to do it.

he can never forget the day he first appeared to you in a dream. to have you cling onto him as you willingly took his hand—not that he was caught by surprise, anyway. every second of every hour of every day xiaojun spent plotting your demise has led to this fruitful day of “meeting” you for the first time.

“i’m right here,” he said, shaking fingers tracing over your cheeks. a soft caress you have never experienced.

the man in your dreams is someone you’ve never met before—you’re positive that you haven’t because you’d never forget a face as handsome as his. he appears like an angel casted over divine light, with a soft smile that can cure the plague as he offers his hands for you to take. it was beautiful, how your nightmares turned into dreams the moment the mysterious man arrived.

how’d you ever know, that the hand you grabbed is the wolf in sheep’s clothing?

it’s sad really, how you’ve only managed to escape one horror only to jump into the next but xiaojun can’t find it in himself to feel bad. well, maybe a little, it’s a fleeting thought. something that disappeared as quickly as it had passed by.

it was only after a few weeks of constantly appearing in your dreams did his plan start to backfire. the change in your behavior isn’t subtle, either, and it angered him all the more. he didn’t see this coming, not even from lightyears away.

simple to say you’ve grown a little more… how can xiaojun put this into words? well, a little more outgoing. adventurous. meeting new people and going to new places and experiencing new things. he can see everything as clear as day—you were healing from your past, leaving the dark chapters in your life to write newer and brighter ones that revolved on having actual healthy relationships for once.

his seething anger of his failed plans had made all the windows in your apartment burst into thousand little pieces. if you had fine china dishes displayed on your kitchen cabinets he would’ve broken those too. how can you go against him like this? look at you all happy and smiley even as the room turned ice cold because of xiaojun’s suffocating presence. you never even thought once about it—how naive.

tormenting you through dreams isn’t working anymore. xiaojun has to up his game if he wants to break you down and revert you back to that paranoid, sensitive, and frail self that couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, and couldn’t talk to any other human being without feeling the ghost of your abusive step-father’s hands against your skin.

who says he can only control you through mind games alone? after he’s done what needs to be done, grief and self-pity will go hand in hand. a combination so cruel and heavy on your shoulders that xiaojun can already savor the metallic tangy taste of victory.

“no! yeji—!”

xiaojun watches unblinking when he makes one of your new friends walk out the sidewalk and right into an overspeeding car.

tires skidding across the pavement, the breaks not working, glass shattering, bones cracking against the force of the hit—dead, right on the fucking spot.

he’s never heard you scream that loud and he shudders in pleasure as the vibrations of your shrill voice courses through his veins.

he missed this, your complete and utter misery.

but he wasn’t done yet.

“don’t you think it’s a ‘lil chilly in here?” ryujin asks, looking over to your side before drinking the hot chocolate she prepared for both of you.

grieving together with a friend can be good, hence why you’re now in her apartment a month later after yeji’s funeral.

you answer after taking a sip. “no, not really.”

xiaojun grins, giddy and a skip in his step while making his way towards you as he side-eyes your friend, who religiously drank her hot chocolate all the while bundling up next to you so you both can watch the movie together playing on the laptop.

this one, well, he particularly doesn’t like this one.

if your other friend was meant to be a casualty, a death borne from not one smidge of personal vendetta, this one, this ryujin is different. heck, he even remembers her fucking name.

no, no, no. xiaojun can feel his skin crawl as ryujin cuddles intimately closer as she stares at you from her peripheral, feeling out whether you’d react or not as she sneaks an arm around your waist. his anger turns a fever pitch, seeing you with someone else driving him up the wall. you were meant to be his sad and hopeless little gazelle and his alone.

xiaojun hoped the poison travels fast or so help him he’ll fucking rip her off of you—and he would’ve, when he saw you and ryujin slowly leaning into one another, head angled and obviously going in for a kiss. he would’ve, when one of ryujin’s hands come up to cup your face. he would’ve… until the poison reached its destination in her body, right when your lips were about to touch.

ryujin’s lungs seized, breathing becoming an agent to her demise as the oxygen from her lungs disappear into nothingness. the last thing she saw is your horrified face, tears streaming. she swore you were shouting something, probably her name, but it’s overpowered by the incessant ring in her ears.

when her mouth foamed and she laid limp on the couch right next to you, you knew ryujin would never wake again to give you that kiss.

xiaojun steps back to admire the havoc he wreaked. two of your friends dead, that should be enough to incapacitate you—whether it be permanent or not, he just wants to see you drown in misery.

and as he slowly dissipates into the void, there’s a little smile on his face as he stares you down, burning the image of your histeria in his head, the echoes of your woeful cries music to his ears.

you never dared step foot out of your apartment.

groceries were delivered to your door, trash is slowly but surely building up, and the place was a whole mess. the entity haunting you has never seen you this… shattered, even when you left home. it was like your brain has stopped working and your body turned into nothing more but a cusp of who you used to be.

it’s scary looking in the mirror and not recognizing the reflection—so, you painted all of them black. it was an in the heat of a moment kind of thing that took place the moment you came home from the police station, on the exact day she passed away before your eyes.

xiaojun just has to “misplace” a few pints of paint you had used from when you renovated the apartment in the past, putting the cans where you can easily see them and think that the idea belonged to you when in reality, it’s the entity that put the idea in your head.

there was a blanket over your shoulder when you came back from the station. it wasn’t yours, they gave it to you while you sat opposite to a stoic detective in a cold interrogation room, yet you made no move to shrug it off even after arriving at your apartment, fingers clutching the fabric like a lifeline and refusing to believe whatever that had transpired in ryujin’s apartment.

eyes unseeing, stumbling with your steps, back hunched with the curse of the universe weighing down on your back—xiaojun couldn’t’ve been more proud of what he had done.

you were spiraling out of control. a self-destructive cycle you cannot seem to fight your way out of as your nightmares came back to haunt you. the tall waves of anxiety and paranoia drowning and pushing you under the surface.

for once you don’t fight the current, you just let it pull you under.

every time you close your eyes, you can hear the deafening screech of rubber tires against concrete before the car hits yeji. can vividly see the foams of the poison coming out of ryujin’s mouth as if it was caught on tape and is now playing on loop.

your other friends have donned you as bad luck, cursed to have a fucked up life and will fuck up other people’s lives too if they get even as close as an arm length to you. too scared to lose any more people, you decided to completely push everyone away and had completely shut yourself out from the world beyond the four corners of your apartment.

it’s like your trauma from before has come crawling back to you, only now, he brings himself a little friend called guilt.

what are the odds that your two friends died after the other when the person they’ve each last spent time with was you? even the police found it too much a coincidence. if it wasn’t for the cctv cams in the corners of ryujin’s apartment, you’d be facing trial for a murder you didn’t commit.

you eye the usb stuck in one of your laptop’s ports. it’s black, with an srj poisoning case written in red ink on the small patch of masking tape pasted onto the back of the plastic.

after being stuck in an interrogation room for the last two hours, you had sneakily swiped it out of the detective's desk on your way out of the station. you remembered it was the usb with a copy of ryujin’s cctv cams, some underling busting into the interrogation room while in the middle of your questioning, holding the tiny usb between his fingers.

your stomach churned when the detective looked at you spitefully, as if he couldn’t fucking care less of the evidence presented to him in a silver platter and would thoroughly take pleasure in throwing you in jail himself, guilty or not. the last look he shot you still sends shivers down your spine, the sharpness in his gaze as he regarded you. “you killed them. i know you did.”

a week of self-induced isolation later and you start to believe in it yourself.

in the middle of screaming your lungs out and cursing the gods above for your sorry excuse of a life, you had thrown the usb somewhere in the apartment. not that you bothered to look for it right after, you were too busy wallowing in self pity before passing out on the living room floor. when you wake up, you’ve forgotten all about it.

so it was interesting, seeing the usb again after days and days of wallowing in grief. you had fallen off the couch while in the middle of a slumber and you spotted the small piece of tech lying underneath it with the other empty coke cans.

eyeing the laptop on the coffee table, you remember you haven’t taken a look at the evidence yourself—the detective had given you the stink eye when you tried shuffling closer to peep a look. carelessly, you shove all other objects off the table to pull the laptop closer. you plant yourself on the ground cross-legged, not batting an eyelash even when you feel the crumbs of chips against your skin.

you boot the laptop on, thankful you’ve yet to forget its password, and plugged the usb in again. it was simple to navigate, to say the least, the folder popping up in a matter of seconds. you thought it stored a whole collection of her cctv footages but alas, it didn’t, saving you the time and energy scourging through unwanted boring files.

hands shaking, you clicked on the video.

and it was as if you’re thrown back into that event in your life that has now become a distant memory. the hug ryujin gave you when she opened the door, her words of comfort when you opened up about your deteriorating mental health after your friend passed away, and finally, the warm feel of the mug against the palm of your hand.

wait a minute.

you perk up from your seat, groaning aloud when your knee hits the underside of the coffee table at your haste, fingers darting around to press the back 10 seconds button. the sweat starts forming in your forehead and palms, making your hand feel clammy and disgusting but it was the last of your worries.

did you see that correctly?

the quality is a bit low and the camera angle isn’t optimal. you can only see ryujin’s side profile but her glassy eyes are unmistakable and her actions look robotic at best.

this is after she made your hot cocoa and had delivered it to your shivering, sniffling form on the couch, all bundled up snug and cozy in the blanket she provided. you remember ryujin winking as she walked back towards her kitchen after you thanked her.

the way she poured poison in her own mug ruled her case as suicice. the evidence is right there in your face but the unease still sits heavy on your stomach and confusion clouds your brain like cannabis.

this doesn’t make any sense.

you knew her, ryujin. she’s never one to succumb to her negative emotions, always facing her problems with head held high. her overall mindset, in general, made her the last person you’d think would ever commit suicide. you’ve replayed the video a thousand times by now, still unable to wrap your head around the fact that she killed herself.

having the sudden urge for another bottle of gatorade, you pressed the pause button as you try hauling yourself up with your arms.

you pause. pushing your face closer to the laptop screen, rubbing at your eyes incredulously as you eye the corner of her kitchen.

ryujin’s apartment isn’t that luxurious, nor is it too rundown, but there can be little exceptions here and there.

like the cheap LED bulbs attached rather messily onto her ceiling, one of the six sources of light flickering on and off. you remember how many times you’ve told her to get it fixed yet she never really paid you any heed.

with shaking fingers, you replayed it one more time, hoping on everything you believe in that it wasn’t what it looks like. this can’t be it—how is that possible—

it’s him, the man who has appeared like an angel in your dream to sweep you away from evil. but standing in the corner, under the flickering lights of your friend’s kitchen, he looked anything but an angelic.

your mind is going haywire, your body shook in confusion, and sweat started dribbling down your neck. you would’ve thought you made a mistake because how is this even possible? the angelic man in your dreams isn’t real—he can’t be real, he can’t appear like this when you aren’t even sleeping because he’s not real!

he can’t… right?

he doesn’t look too harmless, what with his hands crossed and leisurely leaning against the wall. but one look at his eyes and you know you’re wrong. even through the shit quality of the cctv footage you can still feel the fury and the absolute hate his eyes held as he stared her down menacingly, unblinking.

stared her down as she made her own cocoa, as she hunches down to open the sink cabinets to get that pesky rat poison, as she poured it on her mug, as she swirls the spoon around to mix the deadly concoction all together in a hauntingly robotic way that looked too much like ryujin was being told what to do.

and as you let the video play the rest of its content and felt like the tragedy was unfolding right before your very eyes again—you couldn’t breathe, panic gripping onto you like a vice, the sharp talons of fear sinking deep under your skin.

you don’t register the coffee table toppling over in your haste to stand up. desperately putting a distance between you and the laptop as you turned and stumbled towards the hallway leading to your bedroom.

you stop, pathetically landing on your knees before the open archway. if you hadn’t been shaking in fear before, then you surely were now.

he’s here—can you even call it a he?

the man stands at the end of the hallway. in that similar, non-threatening stature with his arms crossed and body leaning against the wall.

but the mischief in his eyes is enough of a warning.

he’s come for you.

he’s come to finish the job.

“finally figured it out?”

you screamed, throwing the closest thing you can at him as you shuffle someplace else in your apartment. his laugh sounded pleasant in the ear when you were off in dreamland, but now? it sounded like nails grating against a chalkboard.

your legs eventually led you to the front door. appearances be damned. you weren’t even wearing a bra and you haven’t showered for days but fuck no you’re not going to stay here with that—that—that monster!

“baby, don’t leave! the fun hasn’t even started yet!”

you grab the doorknob and twist, practically throwing yourself out into the hallway, eyes frantic as you stumble and land face first against—

sticky. the floor’s sticky and there was a smell you can’t seem to pinpoint. it’s tangy, metallic, and you can almost taste the scent yourself in your tongue and when you look down—you want to throw up.

lying next to each other in pools of their own blood, lies yeji and ryujin side by side, faces towards each other. their eyes hauntingly empty and unseeing as they stared up at you.

you shrieked, voice scratching against your dry throat as you threw yourself back into your apartment, the door slamming shut in itself. you didn’t care if there’s now a huge mess of blood staining the carpets on the foyer. you curl in on yourself, hair sticking to your face as you covered your ears and shut your eyes.

“oh, my love…”

you felt his presence before you can hear him.

a flashback plays in your head—hot chocolate, soft blankets, and a friend who you loved with all your heart. “don’t you think it’s a little chilly in here?"

you answered. “no, not really?”

the tears start streaming like waterfalls, mixing with the blood and sweat already caked in your face. ryujin knew, she felt it back at her apartment yet you disregarded her completely.

“it’s not your fault,” the entity’s hands are ice cold when he gently pulls at your wrist. “everything is as it should be. now, open your eyes. there’s nothing to be afraid of. i’m not going to hurt you.”

stubbornly, you shook your head as you squeezed your lids even tighter, refusing to look at the monster dead in the eye.

“don’t be like that, my love. if i wanted to hurt you, i would’ve done it a long time ago.”

you don’t listen, hunching and curling your knees even more against your torso as you try to block out his voice. it’s unfair how gentle it sounded but your blood ran cold when you realize this is how he got ryujin to poison herself, this is how he got yeji to walk in front of a speeding car—

“hail mary, full—full of grace,” you pray under your breath, shaking like a leaf. “the lord… the lord is with thee. blessed art thou among women…”

“you’re praying?” there’s an underlying mocking to e in his voice. “this is fucking hilarious!”

your incessant mumbling partnered with how you rocked your body back and forth, made something snap within xiaojun. he already stated he won’t hurt you! did he break you so much that now you’re unable to hear stuff properly, too?

“holy mary, mo—mother of god, pray for us sinners, now and—and at the hour of our death, amen. hail mary, full of grace…”

“stop.” his body twitches, having the sudden urge to pull all his hair out and burn this fucking building to the ground.

yet you continue. “the lord is with thee, blessed art thou among—among women and blessed is the… the fruit of thy womb, jesus…”

“i said stop, [name]. don’t fucking test me.”

“holy mary, mother of god—pray—pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our—”

you screeched in pain as your forehead comes in contact with a mirror, the sound of it shattering is deafening to the ears. his icy fingers let go of your nape, letting you fall hard to the ground. your ears perk up at the sound of streaming water.

you weren’t in the foyer anymore, you feel cold tiles instead of the rough texture of the dirty carpet underneath you. eyes fluttering, you slowly pry them open, and the first thing you see is the faulty pipes found underneath your bathroom’s sink. patches of your clothes start getting wet.

“you think a prayer of all things can stop me? i’m insulted!” you hiss when he grabs your face, hands so cold that it feels like you’re skin is burning off. “i was going to play nice.”

he pulls you towards him, hand encased around your throat. he shoves the open hair dryer into the half-filled bath tub as you feel him vibrate against you. “you don’t know how long i waited, how much energy i needed to appear to you like this.”

it’s with dread you realize that he’s actually giggling.

you whine, eyes feeling like it’ll pop out of their sockets when he squeezed your neck tighter. with a sudden rush of adrenaline, you anchor your wrists against his arm but it proves to be useless when he’s too strong.

“please,” you wheezed. “i did… i did nothing wrong. let go—please.”

in the corner of your eyes, you stare at him from the mirror, stomach twisting in discomfort when you see him throwing his head back, eyes rolling up after taking a long whiff of your hair. “this—this fear you have, my love, only makes me stronger.”

“nothing… i did nothing wrong—please! please… let, let me go…” you’re starting to feel lightheaded, black spots floating around your vision.

“nothing? are you sure about that?”

you cringe when he licks up the tears in your face, toes curling at the sheer disgust you feel. but the words he spews next is far worse than the hand he’s wrapped around your throat.

“didn’t you left your mom alone with that abusive asshole? didn’t you make yeji walk into that incoming car? didn’t you make ryujin drink that poison?”

he whispers them so softly, so gently that you almost mistook them as proclamations of love.

“no…” your voice breaks.

“yes. yes, you did,” he knew you like the back of his hand, knew what to say and how to say them for you to break in his arms. “you killed them, my love. you’re a murderer. you don’t even deserve to be alive after all of the things you’ve done.”

it’s almost pathetic how you shake your head, eyes closed, refusing to acknowledge the truth.

“that’s… that’s not true…”

“you’re a curse to the people you love, the embodiment of they're suffering. don’t you see it?”

“stop lying!—”

“am i?” he retorts, maneuvering you around to face the mirror. you swore you covered the whole thing with black paint. “just look at yourself.”

oh, how badly he wants to shove your face against the mirror but he mustn't get ahead of himself.

“did any of your friends even visit you to see how you’re doing?” no, they never did. he smiles like he knows what you’re thinking. “the answer is all before you now, my love. you need to see through the haze and accept it for what it really is. no one loves you. even the god you’re praying to didn’t answer. there’s nothing, no one, left.”

and for the first time since he has you in his tight hold, you stopped fighting. sobs wracking through your body as your shoulders slump and accept defeat.

xiaojun automatically lets you go, cooing like a lover in your ear as he tucks you into his embrace. “you want this all to stop, don’t you? someone to save you?”

you nodded, unable to look at him as his hand came up to wipe away your tears. no one has ever done that for you in months ever since yeji and ryujin died.

“i’m here,” xiaojun says, running fingers through your hair comfortingly. “i’m your light, your only saviour. you want that, right, my love?” choice is a mere illusion but he likes keeping up with formalities.

you fail to notice the steps he took towards the now overflowing bathtub, too lost in the new highs and lows of emotions you feel.

“yes.”

it only took seconds to push you into the tub. its water buzzing with a live electric current brought by the hair dryer he dropped only minutes ago.

the effect is instantaneous. he watches your muscle spasm, your skin growing darker as the live water fries your body alive. quickly, xiaojun reaches down to lift your head out the water, not wanting to ruin your pretty face.

the last thing you feel is xiaojun’s cold lips pressing against your own, the gentle caress as he wiped your tears away… and the electricity finally passing through your heart.

when the entity pulls away from your dead body, he only whispers three things—“mine, at last.”

#nct imagines #nct scenarios #wayv imagines #wayv scenarios #xiaojun imagines #xiaojun scenarios #tw violence #tw religious themes #tw ptsd #tw swearing #tw mentions of suicide #tw murder #tw death #tw abuse #yandere xiaojun #yandere wayv

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babeyvenus · 3 years

Text

The Wolf Among Us

Bigby x OC

Summary: Sonya Blaze, A.K.A. Hell Rider, is a half fable, half mundy girl who comes to Fabletown to learn more about her side of the folktales. She works alongside Sheriff Bigby Wolf's as his newest partner and together they strive to find out who's behind the unexpected murders in Fabletown.

TW: Mentions of death, gore/blood, alcohol, drugs, sex implications, suicide, guns and ofc language.

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Chapter 3: Rough Night

After the ruckus with the Woodsman, we went back to the Woodlands. “You have a key to your place?”, he asks. I nod, “Yeah”. He looked at me in disbelief. “How’d you manage to get that door open? I couldn’t get in without almost breaking the handle.” I chuckle. “Well, it took a few tries until I lifted the door a little and gave it a little kick. A little.”, I emphasized.

He rubbed behind his neck. “I guess you’re a little gentler than I am.” I smile. “You’ll get there.” We walked up to the entrance of the Woodlands, him holding the door open for me as I walked in. We both paused to hear rustling leaves behind a tree. Bigby crossed his arms. “Don’t make me come over there.”

A woman comes from behind a tree timidly. Bigby lowered his arms. “Beauty.” This is Beauty? From Beauty and The Beast? She’s a lot different than Disney’s version….

“Hello Bigby. And…?”, she greeted, before seeing me. I wave, giving her smile. “Sonya.” She smiles at me. “Its a little late to be out here.”, Bigby says. She stepped off of the grass. “I know it looks a little odd, but I’ve got an explanation for this.” Bigby sighs. “Okay.” She steps away timidly. “Just don’t tell Beast you saw me. Its not what you think it is, I’m just working.”

This late…? “Sure…”, Bigby says. Beauty nodded and slipped out of the entrance. Bigby sighs heavily and walks to the building. I followed behind, taking note of the sleeping doorman. “Very hardworking, Grimble.”, I mutter. Of course he wouldn’t have heard me. We walked to the elevators, ready to get upstairs until another person stopped us.

“Bigby, have you seen my wife? Have you seen Beauty?”, the man asks. That’s Beast!? What’s going on between them….? Bigby shook his head. “We haven’t seen her.” Beast huffs. “Dammit! There’s something going on…”

Bigby quickly pushes the close doors button, making the doors shut and lift the elevator. “I gotta Swineheart to do a check up on you.”, he says. I look at him in confusion. “Why? I’m fine.”

He pokes my side, making me wince and hold my side. “Sure…”, he mutters, crossing his arms again. The elevator opens and he walks out. “Let’s go.” He leads me to my apartment and waits for me. I unlock the door and show him how to open it. I pause. Why am I showing him? I glance at him and he looks at me. “What?”

I shake my head, letting out a soft sigh. “Nothing. Just don’t make fun of my place. I don’t have much. Yet.” I open the door and turn on the lights, the brightness making my eyes squint. He looked around and closed the door. “Huh. Looks no different than my place. Aside from the fact it looks cleaner and smells cleaner.”

I looked at him. “You really do have the smallest apartment, don’t you?” He looked at me with an eyebrow raised. “What, you thought it was a joke?”, he asks, walking over to my couch and sits down.

“I mean...I just think its kinda unfair to give you the smallest apartment since,” I gestured to him. “Y’know…” He leaned up a bit, placing his arms on his knees with an amused expression. “No, I don’t know. Since I’m now intrigued by your concern, what do you mean?”

I narrowed my eyes at him for a bit. “Now, I don’t wanna tell. Aren’t you supposed to be calling this Swineheart guy?” He perked up at that. “I forgot.” He looked around. “You don’t have a phone here?” I walked over to my lamp table and pulled my phone from my bag. “I kinda figured I wouldn’t need it while we were out since you guys don’t use cellphones nor know how they work. Just give me his number.”

Bigby told me his Swineheart’s number and I handed him my phone. He took it and held it to his ear, giving Swineheart my address. Moments later, we heard a knock on my door. Bigby went to answer it and greeted a grey haired man. “This is Dr. Swineheart. He’s Fabletown’s physician.”

I got up to greet him and he gave me a tired smile. “Its nice to meet you. Now, what’s the problem?”I rubbed my side. “We kinda fought the Woodsman and I’m sore.” Bigby rolled his eyes, sitting on my couch. “He broke her ribs. I heard it.”

I frowned at his snitching. Swineheart hummed. “Can I take a look?” I hesitantly lifted my shirt to show him the damage. It was a dark bruise showing, not too big but big enough to catch anyone’s eye. He sighed. “They’re definitely broken.”, Swineheart says, making Bigby huff in satisfaction. I turned to glare at him, but he was facing a window with his chin propped in his palm.

I faced Swineheart, shaking my head as he let out an amused snort. “I can give you a medicinal patch to get rid of the bruise and heal your ribs from the inside since you’re half mundy.” I look at him with curious eyes. “You know?” He nods. “I suspected as much considering there shouldn’t be any mundies here but you survived an attack that would’ve killed you and you have no idea who I am, so it wasn’t all that hard to piece together.”

He reaches into his bag and hands me a patch. I took off the plastic wrap and gently stuck it to my side. “Alright. Now, in a few minutes, you should feel a little tingling and it should be working to heal you.”, Swineheart says. I nodded. “Thanks Doc.” He smiles, gives us both a nod before leaving.

I sigh and turn to Bigby. “What about you? Didn’t you need a check up?” He looks at me. “I called him for you, not me.”, he says and gets up. He places a hand on my shoulder. “Just make sure to get some rest. I’ll check on you later.” With that, he leaves. I take his advice and sway over to my couch. Laying down, I snuggle into the cushions and close my eyes.

Bigby’s POV

After leaving Sonya’s place, I went to mine, ready to just sleep in my chair. Hopefully Colin isn’t in it. I walked in the door and went to the kitchen to clean my face before taking my phone off of the ringer. I need some peace…

I opened a window to get fresh air in the place before walking over to my chair. To my disappointment, I saw the pig in my chair, knocked out. I nudged him awake. He yawns, “Oh, hey, Bigby.” I stared at him with a frown. “I’m in your chair, aren’t I?”, he asks. “Its the only one here.”, I tell him. He waddles out of the chair and sits across from me. I sit in with a huff and pull out my cigarettes, tapping the bottom and popping one in my mouth.

“Got a smoke?”, I hear Colin ask before looking at him. I sighed through my nose and lit the cigarette. Before I got up, I took a drag before blowing it out and handing it to him. I sat back in my seat, sighing out my drag. “Thanks, Bigby. A couple more thousand of these and you’’l be out of debt.”

I rubbed my eyes. “This has to stop. You cannot be sneaking off the Farm like this.”, I say. He didn’t like that. “The fresh air and sunshine pitch they sell you is complete bullshit. I didn’t escape the Homelands just to end up in some prison, okay? Don’t send me back there, Bigby. You don’t know what its like over there.”, Colin says, as I get up to get some bourbon. “That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?”, I ask, pouring the drink in the cup.

“That for me?”, he asked once I brought the cup to my lips. “Nope.”, I say, walking out of the kitchen. “I’m just saying, the house didn’t blow itself down. Do with that what you will.Now I’m not saying it’s reason enough for me to have definitely been offered a drink, but…uh….it would have helped ease some of the pain you once caused me, yes. It also would have shown everyone how different you are now.”, he says and I take a sip. “I take it all back. This is why everyone hates you.”, he says. I pause and turn to him. “So, everyone hates me?” He smirked. “No, I’m just shittting you.”

I roll my eyes and go back to my chair. “No, hate’s the wrong word. Its more of fear. They fear you more than anything. You did eat a lot of people back in your day.” I shake my head. “I thought we were all supposed to have a fresh start here. I can’t change the past.”

“Well, you can’t change people’s memories either.”, Colin says, as we sit down. I frown at him. “Look, I’m not saying its fair, but its real. People are scared of you. Look at your knuckles.” I looked down to see my knuckles reddened and bruised. “Who’d you get into a fight with? A fable, right? There’s no way you’re punching Mundies.”

“I was actually doing my job, believe it or not.”, I say. Colin frowns in disbelief. “Your job is to beat the shit out of fables?” When they get out of line, yes.

I stayed quiet. “Fuck you.”, Colin muttered. I sighed harshly. “You think my job is easy? You try keeping a bunch of fables from killing each other. How do you think this all works?” Colin rolled his eyes. “I dunno. How?”

I relaxed in my seat. “By being big and being bad.” Colin cringed. “By being biggg and being baddd. Don’t say that shit. Its embarrassing.” I blink at him and take a sip again, trying to tune him out.

“That’s the attitude that gets you in trouble. I’m sure you were shitty to everyone you came across tonight.” said Colin.

“Not everyone.” I mutter with my lips on the cup. This intrigued Colin. “Name one.” I hum. “I’ve got a new partner, she doesn’t seem to hate me. And this other girl we met tonight… I don’t actually know her name.”

“Awesome. Great example.” said Colin, sarcastically. I prop my chin in my hand, now irritated. “Life is easier with friends, Bigby, and we live a long fuckin’ time. This whole lone wolf thing isn’t working, I mean, I’ve seen the way you look at Snow, okay? You’re not fooling me.”

I looked down at my lap. Its true that I do care about Snow but...I think she cares more about her job than anything. I sigh softly. “Colin, seriously, can I just get some time to rest?”

“Well, maybe if my throat wasn’t so parched I wouldn’t have to keep talking.”, Colin replies. I gave him an incredulous look. “That doesn’t make sense-”

“Just give me the drink, please?”, Colin exasperatedly begged. I rubbed my face, “Colin, enough already. I haven’t slept in two days. I went out a second story window and I just wanna get two seconds of shut eye before-”

He gave me the saddest look he could muster up. I looked at my drink then back at him. “Look, if I give you this, will you please let me sleep?” He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, alright. Probably.”

I sighed, getting up and handed him the cup. He smiles. “Thanks Bigby.” I say nothing and get back in my seat, laying my head back and closed my eyes.

Sonya’s POV

I woke up abruptly to the sound of loud knocking. I wiped my face and walked up to my door to cuss whoever is here this late. I opened the door, glaring at-

“Snow? What the hell?”, I groaned, rubbing my eyes. “I’m sorry, but you have to come with me.”, she says, looking fidgety. “Alright.”, she takes off and I put my shoes on. I leave my place, closing my door and seeing her and Bigby walk towards me.

He looks at me in confusion. “You slept okay?” I grumble. “I slept dandy.” He shakes his head. “I can tell. Your hair tells it all.”, he says, leaving me to pull out my phone and look at my hair. My cheeks burn as I fix it and catch up to them.

We exited the Woodlands, our eyes catching onto a security guard jacket splayed out on the ground. I frowned at Snow. “Please don’t tell me you brought us out here to show us a small dead animal that you could’ve gotten Grimble to bury. I don’t wanna see that.”

She looked at me with a frown. “Of course not. Its worse.” I crossed my arms. “How bad is it?” Bigby went over to the jacket and pulled up. His eyes widened and glanced at me. “What?”, I asked, walking over to him as he pulled the jacket back to reveal a decapitated head.

My heart dropped to my stomach as I saw the girl from earlier. We just saved her. We just talked to her…. “W-What the hell…?”, I whispered in shock. I gagged a bit, looking at her dead expression. I dropped down next to Bigby as he looked away. “I assume you two know her.”, Snow says.

“Barely caught her name.”, Bigby says. “She’s a working girl.” Snow looked at him in confusion. “I’m a working girl. I don’t,” I look at her with a frown. She looked back at me, realization coming to her face. “Oh…”

I couldn’t help but stare into the girl’s dead eyes. I couldn’t get anything. Last moments...nothing. I let out a shaky breath and covered my face. “We saved her today. The Woodsman was beating on her.”

“Who found her…?”, I asked. Snow responded, “I did.” I brought my hands down and looked at the girl again. “She was just like this. I didn’t touch her. I grabbed Grimble’s jacket to cover her with, then… I came to get you two right away.” Snow explained.

“No one else came?” I asked. She shook her head. “Bigby, Sonya, did one of us…do this?”

“There hasn’t been a murder in Fabletown in a long time…” Bigby says, looking at her. I sighed. “Then we shouldn’t cause a panic yet. We can’t let anyone know. Not yet…”, I say.

I heard Bigby grunt softly as he got up. I look up to see him holding a ribbon. “This was hers.”, he says, frowning and analyzing it. I looked back at her and gently closed her eyes. “We should look for clues.”, I say, walking away. I walked over to the left side of the gate, not seeing anything. Maybe whoever came here came over and dropped her head off.

They’d look crazy to come to the front and drop it off. I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to get her face out of my head. I looked over to see Bigby crouching by Snow. I raised an eyebrow, walking over to them. “What’re you doing?”

He looks up at me and shows me a piece of blue fabric. I looked at Snow since she was the only one with blue fabric. She shrugged and I shook my head.

“We should move her. No one else needs to see this.”, I say, walking over to the head and covered her up before picking her up and holding her with care. “You don’t have to do that.”, Bigby says, looking at me with concern.

“Its okay. We need to figure out what happened. I just-”, I shake my head. “I should’ve known something was wrong. Wherever she worked seemed to be treating her horribly. I should’ve asked more questions.”

He walked over to me. “You cannot blame yourself for this. You saw how she barely answered our questions from the beginning.”

He’s right but...how could it even get this bad…? “I’ve gotta tell Crane about this.”, Snow says. “How do you think he’s gonna take this…?”, I asked her. “He may be upset. Since he is Deputy Mayor, this has to be announced to him.”, she says. Bigby grumbled. “I guess it’d be a pain if we kept it from him.”

“Hopefully he won't be too upset.”, I say. Bigby shakes his head. “Don’t hold your breath.”

He turns to me, “Let me take this to Swineheart. You go on in with Snow.” I reluctantly gave him the head and he takes it, giving me a soft smile and nods his head toward Snow. I left him alone with the head, and followed Snow.

As Snow and I walked inside the Woodlands, she smiles at me. “You seem to be getting along with him just fine.” I look at her in confusion. “Was he supposed to be a hard person to get along with?”

She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “He can be a little difficult. And not everyone here gets along with him well because of his past.” I frowned. “I thought the whole point of being here was for everyone to have a fresh start and live among society. Why are they still bugging him?”

She shrugs. “I don’t exactly have an answer for that just yet.” I shake my head and walk to the elevator. “I’ll be back down after I freshen up. I feel gross.”, I say before the elevator doors close and take me to my apartment.

After washing up, I put on my red sleeveless turtleneck and black pants before putting my shoes on and leaving. As I get down to the lobby, I see Bigby talking to someone and I walk up. He notices me and holds the door open. “You’ve gotta be shitting me. I stand here for almost a whole hour and she gets to go in!?”, a black haired man with one blind eye growls.

Bigby looks at him annoyed. “We work here.”, he says, putting his hand on my shoulder and starts to lead me inside. I walk inside, letting him deal with the guy and hear Crane fussing at Snow. “Lord…”, I mutter, rolling my eyes. I knew he wasn’t a good boss.

“And now you’re telling me there’s a killer on the loose while you all titter behind my back!?”, Crane yells. “We didn’t know it was gonna happen! Why’re you fussing!?”, I exclaim.

“Because you two are the ones bringing this to me! The ones who so simply “stumbled” upon this catastrophe on our very doorstep! The last thing I need with Mayor Cole away is a hysteria, do you two understand me!?”, he yells in our face. “Of course, but-”, Snow starts.

“Do not interrupt me, Ms. Snow!”

“The f- you asked us a question!”, I yell in disbelief with his behavior. “Don’t change the subject! You two are to blame for this unpleasantness, Miss Sonya!”, he shouted. I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“We brought you this news as soon as we could!” Snow replies tiredly. “You are trusted to keep things running smoothly here! This is a disaster!” Crane rambles. “Who else is to blame, if not either of you?”

“It isn’t anyone’s fault.” Bigby declares. “Instead of trying to assign blame, maybe we figure out how to catch the fucker who did this.”

“Oh, is that how you see things? Sheriff, you, Ms. Snow and Miss Sonya are the ones in charge of protecting Fabletown. Your failure to do so has cost someone their life and the safety of our community.”, Crane says, walking over to his desk and sits in his chair. How’d someone like him even get a position as Deputy?

I rub my temples. “Tell me you’ve been doing something! Are there any leads? Suspects? Anything? Anything at all? Any shred of evidence you three know what the hell you’re doing?” Crane asked.

Bigby walked up to us and crossed his arms. “Her pimp is a suggestion.” I shrugged. “So is the Woodsman.”

“Her…was she a…?"

"She needed money and we didn’t have enough to give her…”, I say. “Well isn’t that just wonderful. Not only was a Fable killed, but it was a Fable hooker to boot!” Crane said, sarcastically.

“You three need to get a handle on this quickly, and quietly. The last thing we need is all of Fabletown knowing there’s a killer amongst us.” Crane shut his eyes for a bit, then opened them to look at Snow.

“Snow!”

“Yes…sir?” Snow asked. “Call Vivian right this moment and let her know I’m coming in early for my...massage.” Crane demands. I looked at Bigby with slight disgust and confusion. He shakes his head.

“I will.” She complies.

Crane looks around his desk. “Where is the bottle of wine you were to purchase?” Snow looks at him in confusion. “Oh, bother! Forget it! Can’t do anything right.” Crane mutters, walking past me.

I glared at Crane as he walked to the door of the office. “Do your job, Sheriff and Deputy….Or we’ll find someone who can.” He said. Bigby growls lowly, turns around and says. “You know what…”

I give him a pinch. “Stop.”

Crane turns to face us. Snow walks up and gives him a smile. “We’ll get right on it, sir.” Crane turns back and walks out of the office. Bigby sighs with a grumble.

#my art #poc oc #my oc #Sonya Blaze #TWAU #twau oc #telltale twau #twau imagine #twau bigby #twau bigby wolf #bigby imagine #bigby wolf #bigby x oc #bigby x reader

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flightfoot · 4 years

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Analyzing Reyna’s romance (or rather, lack thereof) arc and her feelings towards it throughout the series

Recently, Rick published a tweet about Reyna’s orientation, stating “Personally, I see her as romantic asexual and have written her arc with that in mind. (hence the prophecy in HoO) It’s been a struggle for her to figure that out, as she explains in Tyrant’s Tomb. But as always, interpret the text as you wish.”

After reading Tyrant’s Tomb, I figured she was somewhere around ace or aro, so it was cool to see it confirmed that he wrote her with that in mind! Especially since I’m ace myself, and we don’t get a ton of representation. It was just really neat.

In light of that, I wanted to lay out and analyze her arc as it relates to her orientation, to who she’s attracted (or moreso, not attracted) to, starting from her first appearance and continuing through to Tyrant’s Tomb.

Starting all the way from “Son of Neptune”, there’s hints and conversations about Reyna’s love life woven in, with Percy noticing how Reyna reacts to Jason being mentioned.

Reyna grimaced. Percy got the feeling this guy Jason might’ve been more to her than just a colleague. (SON 41)

Percy doesn’t know much of anything about Jason or Reyna or the culture in Camp Jupiter, so he doesn’t have much of a bias towards thinking they’re a couple because of those factors. For Percy to still pick up on Reyna being especially close to Jason is a pretty good indicator that that wasn’t just other people reading into it, seeing what they expect to see from Reyna - something which DOES happen a lot, and that Reyna goes into in Tyrant’s Tomb.

Jason… Percy couldn’t go very far in this camp without hearing that name.

“The way you talk about him…” Percy said. “Were you two a couple?”

Reyna’s eyes bored into him – like the eyes of a hungry wolf. Percy had seen enough hungry wolves to know.

“We might have been,” Reyna said, “given time. Praetors work closely together. It’s common for them to become romantically involved. But Jason was only praetor for a few months before he disappeared. Ever since then, Octavian has been pestering me, agitating for new elections. I’ve resisted. I’ve resisted. I need a new partner in power – but I prefer someone like Jason. A warrior, not a schemer.”

She waited. Percy realized she was sending him a silent invitation.

His mouth went dry. “Oh… you mean… oh.”

“I believe the gods sent you to help me,” Reyna said. “I don’t understand where you come from, any more than I understood it four years ago. But I think your arrival is some form of repayment. You destroyed my home once. Now you’ve been sent to save my home. I don’t hold a grudge against you for the past, Percy. My sister hates you still, it’s true, but Fate brought me here to Camp Jupiter. I’ve done well. All I ask is that you work with me for the future. I intend to save this camp. (SON 181)

Initially when she’s introduced, and in the early books especially, Reyna gives off this extremely dangerous vibe, with Percy especially being nervous about her. Her initial proposition here seems very opportunistic at first, with the emphasis being on the power that comes from being her partner first and foremost, and any more romantic (or otherwise) partnership being implied as an add-on. It isn’t really clear whether she has any actual feelings for him or not.

“The point is, Percy, you are the real power on this quest. You are a seasoned veteran. I’ve seen what you can do. A son of Neptune wouldn’t be my first choice, but if you return successfully from this mission, the legion might be saved. The praetorship will be yours for the taking. Together, you and I could expand the power of Rome. We could raise an army and find the Doors of Death, crush Gaea’s forces once and for all. You would find me a very helpful… friend.”

She said that word like it could have several meanings, and he could pick which one.

Percy’s feet started tapping on the floor, anxious to run. “Reyna… I’m honored, and all. Seriously. But I’ve got a girlfriend. And I don’t want power, or a praetorship.”

Percy was afraid he’d made her mad. Instead she just raised her eyebrows.

“A man who turns down power?” she said. “That’s not very Roman of you. Just think about it. In four days, I have to make a choice. If we are to fight off an invasion, we must have two strong praetors. I’d prefer you, but if you fail on your quest, or don’t come back, or refuse my offer… Well, I’ll work with Octavian. I mean to save this camp, Percy Jackson. Things are worse than you realize.” (SON 182-183)

Reyna’s giving off a “together we can rule” kind of vibe, though for benevolent purposes. And the emphasis on him not being her first choice necessarily but preferring him to other options, along with the casual way she talks about him possibly failing his quest or not making it back compounds the perception that this isn’t really about Percy personally, and not about any attraction she may or may not have towards him, but just what he can offer as far as strengthening the camp goes.

He could tell the audience was over. Reyna was having trouble holding herself together, keeping up the image of the confident commander. She needed some time by herself.

But at the door of the principia, Percy couldn’t resist turning. “How did we destroy your home – that spa where you lived?”

The metal greyhounds growled. Reyna snapped her fingers to silence them.

“You destroyed the power of our mistress,” she said. “You freed some prisoners who took revenge on all of us who lived on the island. My sister and I… well, we survived. It was difficult. But in the long run, I think we are better off away from that place.”

“Still, I’m sorry,” Percy said. “If I hurt you, I’m sorry.”

Reyna gazed at him for a long time, as if trying to translate his words. “An apology? Not very Roman at all, Percy Jackson. You’d make an interesting praetor. I hope you’ll think about my offer.” (SON 184-185)

The bit about Reyna having trouble holding herself together and keeping up this image shows a crack in her earlier portrayal, that maybe she isn’t quite as... impassive I think? As she appears while making her ‘offer’ to Percy. It does make me wonder though, how much of this portrayal of her during this scene was a deliberately planned part of her character arc since the beginning, and how much was Rick writing this in the early stages and slowly figuring out her character along the way. In later scenes, especially in later books, it seemed like less of a purely pragmatic offer, and more of one with at least some twinges of actual desire behind it, albeit only twinges (not like she knows Percy that well anyway).

She glanced up at the warship. Her expression turned a little wistful. “You say Jason is aboard… I hope that’s true. I’ve missed him.” (SON 512)

Even here, though, at the end of SON, the stalwart commander image she tries to project softens a little, and her closeness with Jason, her desire to see him again, is emphasized. Platonic or romantic, she definitely cares for him.

“Enough,” Reyna snapped. “Annabeth is what she says. She’s here in peace. Besides…” She gave Annabeth a look of grudging respect. “Percy has spoken highly of you.”

The undertones in Reyna’s voice took Annabeth a moment to decipher. Percy looked down, suddenly interested in his cheeseburger.

Annabeth’s face felt hot. Oh gods… Reyna had tried to make a move on Percy. That explained the tinge of bitterness, maybe even envy in her words. Percy had turned her down for Annabeth. (MOA 24)

Here’s where there starts being some pretty strong implications that Reyna did actually care about Percy more personally, her romantic offer was for more than just convenience sake. Especially with the ‘maybe even envy’ part. The bitterness could just as easily be from just the rejection, but the envy implies she actively wants what Annabeth has.

“Uh, Reyna,” Jason said. “if you don’t mind, I’d like to show Piper around before the senate meeting. She’s never seen New Rome.”

Reyna’s expression hardened.

Annabeth wondered how Jason could be so dense. Was it possible he really didn’t understand how much Reyna liked him? It was obvious enough to Annabeth. Asking to show his new girlfriend around Reyna’s city was rubbing salt in a wound.

“Of course,” Reyna said coldly.

Percy took Annabeth’s hand. “Yeah, me too, I’d like to show Annabeth-“

“No,” Reyna snapped.

Percy knit his eyebrows. “Sorry?”

“I’d like a few words with Annabeth,” Reyna said. “Alone. If you don’t mind, my fellow praetor.”

Her tone made it clear she wasn’t really asking permission.

The chill spread down Annabeth’s back. She wondered what Reyna was up to. Maybe the praetor didn’t like the idea of two guys who had rejected her giving their girlfriends tours of her city. Or maybe there was something she wanted to say in private. Either way, Annabeth was reluctant to be alone and unarmed with the Roman leader. (MOA 32)

Reyna did have some things she wanted to go over with Annabeth privately, but with the emphasis on Annabeth being able to tell how much Reyna likes Jason, her reacting coldly to him asking to take Piper around the city, along with the way she snapped at Percy for asking to take Annabeth around instead of stating her refusal more calmly, her reactions strongly suggest that she IS hurting from seeing both Percy and Jason with their girlfriends, that she does have feelings for them somewhat, and is trying to suppress it.

“Long story,” Reyna said. “But I remember you well. You were brave. I’d never seen anyone refuse Circe’s hospitality, much less outwit her. It’s no wonder Percy cares for you.”

Her voice was wistful. Annabeth thought it might be safer not to respond. (MOA 37-38)

I didn’t pull quotations emphasizing this specifically, but Reyna’s loneliness and the strain she’s under as a commander, especially having been the lone praetor for so long, is putting her under a lot of stress. I think at least part of the reason for her hints of envy towards Annabeth and coldness about Jason having a girlfriend, is derived from her not really having had the sort of support that Percy and Jason currently have, that intimacy, that ability to drop the walls and image she’s built up in order to lead and to protect herself.

“I wanted to hear it from you,” Reyna said.

Annabeth turned. “Hear what from me?”

“The truth,” Reyna said. “Convince me I’m not making a mistake by trusting you. Tell me about yourself. Tell me about Camp Half-Blood. Your friend Piper has sorcery in her words. I spent enough time with Circe to know charmspeak when I hear it. I can’t trust what she says. And Jason… well, he has changed. He seems distant, no longer quite Roman.”

The hurt in her voice was as sharp as broken glass. Annabeth wondered if she had sounded that way, all the months she’d been searching for Percy. At least she’d found her boyfriend. Reyna had no one. She was responsible for running an entire camp all by herself. Annabeth could sense that Reyna wanted Jason to love her. But he had disappeared, only to come back with a new girlfriend. Meanwhile, Percy had risen to praetor, but he had rebuffed Reyna too. Now Annabeth had come to take him away. Reyna would be left alone again, shouldering a job meant for two people.

When Annabeth had arrived at Camp Jupiter, she’d been prepared to negotiate with Reyna or even fight her if needed. She hadn’t been prepared to feel sorry for her.

She kept that feeling hidden. Reyna didn’t strike her as someone who would appreciate pity. (MOA 38-39)

The loneliness is really apparent here, and very explicit. I don’t think it’s even really about ‘romantic love’, as far as the whole thing with Jason goes, exactly, but... being that high level of priority. Having someone there for you closely. I think she at least thinks that a romantic relationship with Jason, or even Percy, may provide that. And that’s something most people need, regardless of orientation.

“You see?” Reyna said bitterly. “The spear is thrown. Our people are at war.”

“Not if I succeed,” Annabeth said.

Reyna’s expression looked the same as it had at Camp Jupiter when she realized Jason had found another girl. The praetor was too alone, too bitter and betrayed to believe anything could go right for her ever again. Annabeth waited for her to attack. (MOA 253)

Between this sudden attack out of nowhere, Jason disappearing and returning with having bonded with these new people, especially Piper, and having ‘changed’ as she said, no longer having anyone around she’s close to... well. She’s just managing as best she can.

In the center of the line stood Reyna, her metal dogs Aurum and Argentum at her side. Upon seeing her, Jason felt an incredible pang of guilt. He’d let her believe they had a future together. He had never been in love with her, and he hadn’t led her on exactly… but he also hadn’t shut her down.

He’d disappeared, leaving her to run the camp on her own. (Okay, that hadn’t exactly been Jason’s idea, but still…) Then he had returned to Camp Jupiter with his new girlfriend Piper and a whole bunch of Greek friends in a warship. They’d fired on the Forum and run away, leaving Reyna with a war on her hands. (HOH 247)

I couldn’t find much about Reyna’s relationships with others in HOH since she’s barely in the book. From the looks of things, he’d at least believed that Reyna wanted to be with him actively long-term, something which jives pretty well with previous passages concerning Reyna’s relationship with Jason. Makes me curious how exactly they interacted in the past, what went down between them.

Also more emphasis on Reyna being stressed and on her own. That seems to be pretty heavily associated with anything talking about her love life.

So far in the ancient lands, she’d only seen one place on her wish list: Diocletian’s Palace in Split, and even that visit had hardly gone the way she’d imagined. Reyna used to dream about going there with Jason to admire their favorite emperor’s home. She pictured romantic walks with him through the old city, sunset picnics on the parapets. (BOO 75)

And then comes Blood of Olympus, where we actually get to see Reyna’s perspective, her thoughts, instead of having to infer them from other characters’ perceptions of her. The daydreaming about going on trips with him and explicitly ‘romantic’ walks and picnics seems like she genuinely desired that to some extent. Though I do notice those are pretty cliche desires, so that may also feed into the part of her arc with feeling pressured to perform a certain way, to ‘be’ a certain way, and believing that this is how to find happiness.

She found Thalia’s eyes distracting: electric blue, intense, and alert, so much like Jason’s. (BOO 221)

Just wanted to note this bit, since she’s paying special attention to Thalia here, especially her eyes. Though I’m iffy about this representing attraction to Reyna, since Thalia’s eyes are often commented on (at least in their heads) and a major factor in paying attention to them seems to have to do with them being like Jason’s, which could account for the focus.

The giant’s eyes clicked and dilated. Red laser dots floated across Reyna’s breastplate. “Ah, the young praetor. I admit, I’ve been curious. Before I slay you, perhaps you’ll enlighten me. Why would a child of Rome go to such lengths to help the Greeks? You have forfeited your rank, abandoned your legion, made yourself an outlaw – and for what? Jason Grace scorned you. Percy Jackson refused you. Haven’t you been… what’s the word… dumped enough?”

Reyna’s ears buzzed. She recalled Aphrodite’s warning, two years ago in Charleston: You will not find love where you wish or where you hope. No demigod shall heal your heart.

She forced herself to meet the giant’s gaze. “I don’t define myself by the boys who may or may not like me.” (BOO 238)

It just occurred to me that I really have no clue how Orion knows about Reyna’s love life. Like I know Python can provide some intel, but was that detail REALLY that important?

Anyway, this statement by Reyna, “I don’t define myself by the boys who may or may not like me.”, is an important step in how she relates to romance in general, and in her portrayal in the series, particularly in the Tyrant’s Tomb. Before this a lot of emphasis was placed on her being rejected by Percy and Jason, and of at least somewhat wanting to be with them in some capacity, or at least believing that she did. After this she seems more at peace with herself and less focused on past or present pursuit of relationships for herself.

“Once in Charleston, Venus told me something. She said: You will not find love where you wish or where you hope. No demigod shall heal your heart. I- I have struggled with that for…” Her words broke. (BOO 492)

Near the end of BOO, she finally talks to someone about this. A lot of people know, but... well, with the emphasis on how alone she is, how she has to keep up appearances, it doesn’t seem like she’s really gotten a chance to break down and talk to someone. I’m glad she got to do it with Piper. And this proclamation, this prophecy, the seeming hopelessness of it that appears to re-emphasize her being alone, along with implying that she’s broken in some way with the reference to her needing to be ‘healed’... I can only imagine how it would torment her.

Reyna rolled her eyes. “If I had a denarius for every time I got that question… Aside from the fact that Thalia is in the Hunters, and thus sworn to celibacy… why does a strong friendship always have to progress to romance? Thalia’s an excellent friend. Why would I risk messing that up?” (TTT 228)

By TTT she’s had a lot more time to come to terms with her thoughts and feelings about relationships and romance, plus she’s not alone anymore, though the situation is still dire and stressful. While during HOO her being without support and having to manage everything by herself was interwoven with the narrative about her feelings towards Jason and Percy and her lack of romantic relationships, that’s not present here. In fact, it’s the opposite, with her having a strong friendship and having no desire to turn it into something romantic. It seems like those concepts became unbundled, with her having strong support and friendship unrelated to any romance.

Reyna broke a dry branch off a shrub and flicked it into the underbrush. “I went on that quest with Jason, what, two years ago? Venus took one look at me and decided… I don’t know. I was broken. I needed romantic healing. Whatever. I wasn’t back at camp a full day before the whispering started. Nobody would admit that they knew, but they knew. The looks I got: Oh, poor Reyna. The innocent suggestions I got about who I should date.”

She didn’t sound angry. It was more like weighed down and weary. I remembered Frank Zhang’s concern about how long Reyna had shouldered the burdens of leadership, how he wished he could do more to relieve her. Apparently, a lot of legionnaires wanted to help Reyna. Not all of that had been welcome or useful.

“The thing is,” she continued, “I’m not broken.”

“Of course not.” (TTT 233)

This conception about “being broken” is something aces tend to end up feeling, at least without knowing more about asexuality. I didn’t get it as much since I wasn’t surrounded with as much emphasis on dating and sex as a lot of other people are, so I started figuring out maybe I was different from most other people only awhile after having run across the term; I just figured it was normal to have this attraction thing start up sometime later, like late teens or so, and that I didn’t exactly know what people were talking about anyway so maybe I just didn’t recognize it. By the time I figured out that I probably wasn’t going to develop this “sexual attraction” thing anytime soon I already knew about different sexualities and was able to research the topic to see what best description best fit my own experience. So I’m glad Rick touched on Reyna’s discomfort here. With some of the earlier passages I think she may have come to view herself the same way other people were viewing her, as needing a romantic partner to help her, but now she’s realized that was never really necessary for her; she doesn’t need that in her life.

After this, the whole scene with Lester awkwardly asking Reyna out occurs, and she figures out how ridiculous all this stress over who she should be with is, that it’s not something she needs to force herself to do, to dedicate all this time and energy too.

“My whole life, I’ve been living with other people’s expectations of what I’m supposed to be. Be this. Be that. You know?”

[…]

“But the whole time I’ve been a leader here,” she forged on, “I was looking for a partner. Praetors often partner up. In power. But also romantically, I mean. I thought Jason. Then for a hot minute, Percy Jackson. Gods help me, I even considered Octavian.” She shuddered. “Everybody was always trying to ship me with somebody. Thalia. Jason. Gwen. Even Frank. Oh, you’d be perfect together! That’s who you need! But I was never really sure if I wanted that, or if I just felt like I was supposed to want it. People, well-meaning, would be like, Oh, you poor thing. You deserve somebody in your life. Date him. Date her. Date whoever. Find your soulmate.”

She looked to me to see if I was following. Her words came out hot and fast, as if she’d been holding them in for a long time. “And that meeting with Venus. That really messed me up. No demigod will heal your heart. What was that supposed to mean? Then finally, you came along.”

“Do we have to review that part again? I am quite embarrassed enough.”

“But you showed me. When you proposed dating…”

She took a deep breath, her body shaking with silent giggles. “Oh, gods. I saw how ridiculous I’d been. How ridiculous the whole situation was. That’s what healed my heart – being able to laugh at myself again, at my stupid ideas about destiny. That allowed me to break free – just like Frank broke free of his firewood. I don’t need another person to heal my heart. I don’t need a partner… at least, not until and unless I’m ready on my own terms. I don’t need to be force-shipped with anyone or wear anyone else’s label. For the first time in a long time, I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. So thank you.” (TTT 405-406)

I understand her confusion here about whether she herself wanted to be with someone, or whether she felt like she should enough that she forced some facsimile of those feelings onto herself. I suspect that there were at least twinges of genuine romantic feelings concerning Jason at least - a lot of the focus around romance is in regards to him, and some of her reactions regarding him appeared to be more instinctual to me, like her reaction to him suggesting showing Piper around the city. Now how strong those feelings really were and whether they’d sync up well with a romantic relationship, I’m not sure. Just because you can imagine a relationship being one way, actually experiencing it you may find it’s not for you, that conceptually it’s appealing but not when actually trying to have one.

She doesn’t seem entirely sure of her own feelings as far as dating someone goes either, but she’s letting go of the idea, of the feeling that she needs to figure it out now. She can just... be.

When I was first trying to figure out what the heck my orientation was, I fretted about it for a bit, trying to analyze my own feelings and compulsions. I thought demisexual or asexual, and as for my romantic orientation... bi perhaps?

Eventually I just... stopped worrying over it. At least all that much. Pretty sure I’m ace, but romantic orientation I’m still unsure of, though I’m currently leaning aro. And even in my twenties, I’m not totally clear on it. And I don’t have to be. Neither does Reyna. If she ends up with feelings for someone, of whatever gender, that’s fine. If she doesn’t, that’s fine too. Maybe she’ll end up changing what she thinks of herself, what she believes her orientation is as she has more experiences. Or maybe she won’t. It’s good either way.

Joining the Hunters decoupled the themes of loneliness, of isolation from HOO with the idea of romantic relationships even more thoroughly. She has that sort of camaraderie with them. She doesn’t need to be strong for them, to be the high leader. She has that support, along with not needing to be responsible for so many people’s welfare and morale anymore, all without any romantic pressure. She can just chill. There’s a reason she regards it as a vacation. And seriously, good for her!

Side note: based on the focus Reyna has on male characters as possibly being viable partners while not seeming to consider any female characters in the same light, even listing Jason, Percy, and Octavian (though I kinda doubt that was romantic) as ones she considered, but listing Thalia, Jason, Gwen, and Frank as people she was shipped with, I suspect that she’s hetero-leaning. It’s hardly conclusive evidence though, headcanon what you like.

#reyna avila ramirez arellano #reyna ramirez arellano #trials of apollo #heroes of olympus #toa #hoo #asexuality #analysis #my analysis

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himbowelsh · 4 years

Note

Well now I need touch starved Liebgott something! I always imagined Webgott to work the other way around. Y'know Web being unused to hugs and Lieb having no sense of boundaries. But I'm really intrigued by a concept of switching it up.

hello i’m in tears bc this took so long to write, but... enjoy an extremely touch-hangry boi. be warned, for copious amounts of obscenely soft cuddling.

Long story short, it goes like this.

David’s just finished an article, two hours ahead of the frankly unreasonable deadline sent by his editor; he collapses on the couch, promptly kicks his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table, and slumps against Joe’s side.

Joe goes very still.

At first, David thinks it’s because of his feet. Joe can be weird about things like that; he values cleanliness, and “not acting like fuckin’ animals in the house, Jesus, Web”. All the things David was never allowed to do growing up in his family’s Manhattan penthouse --- like leave dishes out or discard his clothes in messy piles --- are exactly the sort of things that drive Joe insane. He kind of relishes doing them, just to see the twitch Joe gets by his eye, and for the way he grips his hips roughly when he growls at him to “quit leaving your shit everywhere”. David’s natural sloppiness leaves Joe needing an outlet for his frustration… and their shared bedroom is kept very clean. It works out great for both parties.

So, sure, it’s probably just the feet on the table… he thinks for a grand total of eight seconds, before looking up to catch Joe’s eye.

His boyfriend’s gaze has gone impossible soft. It takes David’s breath away, a little, because Joe isn’t like that as a rule. He’s sharp edges and broken glass, jagged teeth and bladed grins. He’s harsh as sandpaper and smooth as steel. He’s frustrating, and his gentle moments come and go like fickle summer storms.

To be fair, impromptu cuddling on the couch isn’t like them either… but David needs it tonight, and stepping outside the bounds of their normal relationship can’t be the worst crime in the world. He holds Joe’s gaze for a moment, questioning and careful… but, instead of pulling away, Joe just takes a moment before sighing. His arm wraps around David’s shoulders, pulling him close.

“Rough night, Web?” he asks, an undercurrent of implication in his voice. This ain’t like you. You alright?

“You have no idea.” David rests his stubbled cheek against Joe’s chest, sighing deeply as the tension slowly drains from his muscles. Joe is hesitant to react; his actions, even as he rubs up and down David’s shoulder, lack his usual fearlessness. Joe can grab his ass in the middle of a crowded bar, or ruffle his curls just to get on his nerves… but this casual intimacy is uncharted territory for him.

He needs a distraction from his own head. David’s got just the thing. “How would you,” he sighs, “like to hear about the plight of Heteractis anemone? Because I just wrote four thousand words on it.”

“Heter— huh.” Joe sighs into the crown of his head, ruffling his curls. “Pretty sure Guarnere caught that once.”

“Knowing him, he’s still got it,” David replies. When Joe laughs, it reverberates in his chest, a low rumble in David’s ear.

“Yeah, alright, Web. Tell me all ‘bout your anemoles.”

“Anemone.”

“Yeah, what’d I say?” Joe presses his grin into David’s hair. “Amenemes.”

“Anemo-- damn it,” he mutters, burying the words against his boyfriend’s chest. Joe laughs even harder… and, like it or not, the sound it a balm to David’s frayed nerves. Even better are the strong arms which wrap around him, fully encompassing his shoulders and pulling him against Joe’s body. It’s… more than he was anticipating, more than they probably need, but it feels nice, and he doesn’t want to pull away. David melts against him, curling his legs with Joe and letting himself drift off. Fingers card gently through his hair; his boyfriend’s warm breath caresses his temple… and being this close feels so good that he forgets to remember it isn’t ordinary at all.

If he looked up at that exact moment, he might have found Joe enjoying it even more than he was… but David, as usual, preferred to sail away.

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

That really should have been the end of it… but after their night of unexpected intimacy, it’s like a dam has broken.

Joe does it at unexpected moments. While David is flipping pancakes in the kitchen, he comes up behind him and wraps his arms around his waist, chin looping over his shoulder. They just sort of… stay there. David is so surprised that he ends up charring the pancake, which Joe eats anyways, because he’d inhale charcoal if he was hungry enough… but while his boyfriend is wolfing blackened pancake lumps down his throat, no explanation is offered. David doesn’t know how to ask.

He’s brushing his teeth; Joe comes up behind him and holds his hips, just staying there for a few minutes. He’s reading a book in bed; Joe lies down, curling into his side like an automatic reflex. They’re watching whatever B-rated action flick Joe just insisted on going to see at the Cineplex, and Joe holds his hand the entire time.

Calling it strange is an understatement. It’s fucking bizarre.

Which isn’t to say Joe’s been shy about physical contact before, because he hasn’t. He’s just always been measured with it. Joe doesn’t hold back from touching people, grasping their shoulders or clapping them on the back… but he never goes overboard with it. His touches don’t linger. He’s a handsy person by nature, but David never considered before that he weighs every touch before giving them out.

If that’s the case, what’s changed? Why has he suddenly become so free — even apparently craving — touches he’s never asked for before?

David doesn’t know much about the scientific method, but any good journalist can test a hypothesis as well as a lab tech. Early one night, before either of them have gone to bed, he sits down next to Joe on the couch and sets the remote in his boyfriend’s lap.

“Anything but reality TV,” is all he says, and Joe smirks as he turns the station to some late night show.

He’s paying attention; David is not. Instead, his attention is fixed firmly on Joe, not even trying to hide it. The curve of his profile, the shadows along his neck and collar, the way he always lounges when he sits… like he’s trying to take up as much space as possible. Something about him seems inexplicably, undeniably lonely.

David leans over and wraps an arm around Joe’s shoulders. The reaction is expected; Joe goes tense, like he’s trying to figure out what the hell is going on. David counts back in his head: ten… nine… eight… seven…

Before he gets to five, Joe’s relaxed into him. Easy as that — it’s like teaching a puppy to eat food, or a baby to cry. Joe and touch go together like authors and caffeine. Touching is easy for him, but being touched is the most natural thing in the world.

A flame kindles to life within David’s chest, and soon it’s warming him from the inside out. He can’t keep a fond smile from his lips. After a moment, his hand strays up to Joe’s hair, threading gently through the well-maintained strands. Joe’s always had a weakness for having his hair touched, and tonight is no exception. He makes a tiny, content noise and leans into David, the tension slowly draining from his body. It doesn’t take long before he’s leaning against him, head balanced against David’s chest. Arms still around him, David holds Joe tenderly, caressing his hair while occasionally pressing kisses to the crown of his head. Joe’s heartbeat is steady, his muscles lax. David charts the gentle rhythm of his breathing until he’s sure his boyfriend has dropped off to sleep.

When he looks down, a wave of tenderness washes over him. Joe Liebgott with every guard down is a thing to see. He so rarely looks peaceful. There’s something restless about Joe, a relentless hunger thrumming just beneath his skin, determined to break free. He’s always had an edge of urgency to him… but now, dozing against David’s chest, he looks without a care in the world.

He ought to be this way all the time. He deserves to be happy all the time. God help him, if David has any say in it, Joe will be.

“Is it my birthday or something?” Joe asks, when David, completely unprompted, begins massaging his shoulders. “Shit, don’t tell me I’m another year older and just forgot.”

“Not for another few months, old man,” David replies. On reflex, Joe tries to twist and grab him, but David’s massage doesn’t let up; after a minute, he relaxes into it, slumping further back against David’s chest.

“You been acting weird lately,” Joe declares — as though David needs to be good, and as though he wasn’t the one acting weird to begin with. “Everything fine at work? You didn’t… gamble away our savings to the mafia, or promise Sobel our firstborn kid or something? If you got news for me, Web, I can take it without a bonus massage.”

“Why do you think — wait, we’re going to have kids?”

“Head in the game, Web. What’s going on?”

At once, he’s glad Joe is facing the other way, because David’s not sure what he could say otherwise. He frowns at Joe’s back muscles, kneading into them with a bit more force than necessary. Sure, he’s been… more physically affectionate these days. Joe no longer has to seek it out, because he gives it willingly… and even if touch doesn’t come naturally to David, the obvious way Joe eats it up when his touches linger in public or they draw close to each other in private makes it all worthwhile. Joe seems happier nowadays, so clearly it’s working fine.

Why’s he getting interrogated now?

“Am I not allowed to touch you?” he asks. “Just because I want to touch?”

“You ain’t a touchy-feely person. Never have been.”

“People change.”

“Not you.” Joe’s observation is too neutral for David to justify flaring up at it. “Come on, Web. What’s going on?”

He’s silent for a long moment before summoning a reply. “I want you to be happy,” he declares, finishing off Joe’s back massage with a caress of his neck. “I want you… to feel loved.”

Joe is silent for a beat before turning his head to look back at him. “That’s all, huh?”

“Yeah,” David huffs. “That’s all.”

It’s hard to make out Joe’s expression when one half of his face is cast into shadow, but David spots the amusement in his eyes… and something else, too, something softer that he can’t put his finger on. It sparks a familiar warmth in his chest, and he smiles.

“Well, don’t stop on my account,” Joe sighs. There’s no warning before he’s leaning back against David’s chest, but David’s ready this time. He opens his arms, embracing him as they go. Slowly, Joe relaxes into the comfort of his touch, and the world feels a little warmer.

#webgott #david webster #joe liebgott #joseph liebgott #my writing #Anonymous

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inspirationdivine · 4 years

Text

Ruthless || Lydia and Ariana

Timing: Now Parties: @letsbenditlikebennett @inspirationdivine Summary: Ariana confronts Lydia Warnings: domestic abuse discussion, reference to gun use

The only thing stronger than the crushing guilt was the fiery anger that seemed to roar anytime Ariana dared to think of Lydia. Every ounce of common sense she had was telling her this was a terrible idea, but she didn’t care. The worst had already happened, what more could Lydia possibly do to hurt her? A large part of her wanted to rip Lydia from limb to limb and make her pay for what she’d done to Ace. The only thing that was remotely holding her back was the promise she’d made to Ace when they first talked about all of this. She didn’t know what she was going to do, but she needed some sort of… Hell, she had no idea what she needed, but she’d figure it out when she got there. There was no sense of caution in her as she marched up Lydia’s driveway and banged loudly on her front door.

Already, Lydia had construction workers downstairs, filling up the secret tunnel that had apparently been there decades without anyone noticing. Her nightmares had adopted a new quality, with teeth and glowing eyes. The death of Winn Woods was no longer on the news, but it had started haunting her this week and this week alone, thinking about that silver bullet piercing right through him. Wondering whether it had hurt, that split moment. Whether he had been afraid, or lonely. Maybe he had known, maybe he hadn’t, he had thought he could escape his past right until he hadn’t. He hadn’t been born a werewolf, but he had been one all the same. The thoughts went around and around in her head, like a spinning top. She didn’t just think about Winn Woods.

Mushroom season would peak this year on a full moon. Wasn’t there something ironic in that?Every day, the pollen called on her a little harder, enticing her closer and closer to the local fairy rings. It tickled her skin, bounced her legs. Just yesterday, she’d promise bound three young men to do the macarena until their legs fell off. She was frenetic, and furious. Lydia stared at the email she had been writing for the past two hours listlessly. Jeremiah and Mohammed had quit their security positions as soon as they had smelled what had happened, so two new guards had come in. Pushing the thought away, Lydia tried to return to describing her in-depth paint analysis services, to confirm authenticity. She’d barely written another word when someone banged on the door. Lydia reached for her phone, checking the camera. Ariana, the young werewolf. Her stomach soured as she put on her best, cruelest smile and went to answer. “Ariana, darling, why don’t you come in!” The little girl was a thief after all.

Whatever this was, Ariana didn’t understand it and practically spat out, “Don’t call me darling.” Already, she could feel the hum of a low growl threaten to rise its way up to her throat. Her claws were practically screaming under her skin to come out and spill Lydia’s blood the way she had spilled Ace’s. Only a small part of her could register

that going in was a bad idea, but she needed Lydia to pay for this. The only one more at blame for what happened to Ace was her and she couldn’t just get away with this. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she huffed out, “Fine.” There was no reluctance as she followed her in. This wasn’t a conversation meant for the neighbors to overhear. There was no holding back the anger that was brewing under the surface and she demanded, “What’d you do with him?” She wasn’t sure she really wanted to know the answer outside of the gun wounds, but her own actions had led to this. She should have just told Athena about Lydia then none of this would have had the chance to happen.

This explained it, then. Why Ariana had been sneaking about, who had bitten Sammy. All of it made sense now. Which meant they’d been conspiring against her much longer than Lydia had ever realised. She wanted to wring Chloe’s neck for this, for ever even having put them in this situation, but she needed Chloe until at the very least she could secure a full house once more, so the woman would have to stay. For now. Lydia caught O’s eye as she walked past them, tilting her head so that the zombie would follow. It was still close to the full moon, after all. Lydia led the both of them through to her office, where she promptly sat back at her desk, scrutinising the girl. “I won’t be shouted at in my own home,” Lydia said, with a lightness that didn’t match the situation, as if they were arguing about where Lydia left her bins, rather than murder. Killing a human, Lydia quickly corrected herself. “I think the question is rather, what did you do to him?”

“I’m hardly shouting at you,” Ariana huffed with her arms crossed squarely over her chest. This wasn’t even close to loud for her. Lydia didn’t want to see loud or stare down the face of a transformed wolf. Every instinct in her wanted to just rip her to shreds, but that wasn’t the way to go about this. She rolled her eyes at the fae’s question. “Seriously? What did I do to him? You kept him in your basement and murdered him and you’re asking what I did to him?” How could she possibly be thinking what Ari had done to him was wrong? He wanted to be a wolf. He wanted a life outside her fucking basement. She’d been trying to help him when all Lydia wanted to do was keep her meals around for far too fucking long. Her blood was boiling under her skin and she answered, “I bit him because he was my friend and he wanted me to.”

What a petulant child. It was the only thought Lydia could muster inside her, all that rage and betrayal fizzing right under her skin. Lydia had been deprived here more than anyone else, and this girl was rolling her eyes at her?Lydia tapped her acrylic nails against the mahogany desk impatiently. That Ariana was a werewolf at all was the only reason she received even a modicum of Lydia’s patience, although it was already wearing thin. “What, exactly, did you think would happen after?” Lydia asked quietly. “What was your grand plan? Did you expect me to starve myself after you removed my sustenance? Did you think he would stay with you once he’d used you to escape? I’m ever so curious.”

The question Lydia asked next felt like a dagger sinking into her gut. What did Ariana think would happen? The guilt of that question had tormented her for days now and she still didn’t have an answer, but she refused to let Lydia see her cry. To give her any indication that she’d get the upper hand here. She wouldn’t. She’d pay for this somehow even if she had to go down the route of getting Athena involved. “That you wouldn’t eat or kill a werewolf and that oh, I don’t know, he was of course welcome to stay with me. I could introduce you to someone new if I had to,” she grumbled with her fists clenched at her side, “I’m sure as shit not giving you her name now though.” That much was true though the implication that she ever would had been stretching the truth. She had only spoken to Kelly a handful of times since that open mic night, but she still knew she’d feel like shit if she were to send her to her death. “I find it really hard to believe you have to keep your food long term hostage in your home instead of I don’t know, just eating them and being done with it. Seems kind of excessive to play with your food.”

Lydia glared at her. She hadn’t killed a werewolf. He’d had the bite, it meant nothing, as little as killing someone bitten by a zombie. He hadn’t yet turned. He’d been a threat, he’d- Lydia wasn’t letting this rug rat get to her. “If you had asked for a trade, we wouldn’t be in this situation, my dear. I’m not unreasonable.” Now it was Lydia’s turn to roll her eyes. “That isn’t how it works, sweet pea. You’re all the same, lecturing me on my diet without any understanding of it. You couldn’t eat an elephant all at once, could you? And yet once you start, well, the elephant is fucked.” Lydia pursed her lips, her false smile an icy sneer. “I hardly have to justify myself to you, do I? I have no doubt you’ve already cast me as an irredeemable villain, simply for having a different diet to yours. Then again, perhaps you have never accidentally snacked on a hiker, so you have all the moral high ground.”

Ariana felt her breath catch in her throat again. She’d wanted so badly for there to be another way that she let herself believe her half-assed plan could work. That there would be an answer to this where no one else got hurt. Who the hell was she to think she could accomplish something like that? Celeste hadn’t been able to and Celeste had been way smarter than she’d ever be. Her lungs felt like they were on fire, but she refused to falter. Not here. Not now. Not in front of her. “Right, because you were so receptive when I showed up here before and not at all full of it,” she remarked. Lashing out felt better than admitting Lydia was right. She should have just brought Kelly here or worse. Athena was still sitting in the second spot on her speed dial. “Don’t call me that,” she spat, “I’m not-- I don’t care that you have to eat people to live. That’s hardly your fault. You just don’t have to be all Silence of the fucking Lambs about it. And no, actually, I haven’t accidentally snacked on a hiker. I’m careful about that shit. I mean… I ate the hunter that killed my sister, but that was on purpose and not the point.” The last part slipped out and she internally groaned. This wasn’t going well, but what did she think would happen? They weren’t alone here and she doubted she could just rip Lydia apart like she so badly wanted to do.

“You mean when you were trespassing on my property? You weren’t there to bargain, girl, you were there to spy. I should never have been so gentle in the first place,” Lydia retorted sceptically. “Don’t lie. It’s bad enough you’ve caused this mess, don’t make it worse.” Which would sting to hear, wouldn’t it? If Ariana hadn’t interfered, Sammy would be happy. He was content here. As he had told Lydia all the time, what he felt was more than just devotion. She had been his world, and everything had been better that way. “Silence of the lambs?” Lydia scoffed, crossing her arms. “That is a tad dramatic, don’t you think? That said, I’m ever so young for a fae. I’m fascinated to hear what a child has to advise me about how to best prepare my meals.” I’m careful about that shit. Some individuals were so proud of how little danger they were to humans. As if they were living their lives ready to defend themselves to the courts of a Hunter’s ego. It was a great, pathetic source of pride for Ariana, clearly. There was a cheap shot to make there, lined up so well that Lydia opened her mouth to make it searingly, before thinking better of herself. Fury didn’t need to make her cruel. “I am sorry about your sister. I do know what that feels like.”

“Fine, I was spying which was how I figured out what kind of fae you were and went to that stupid open mic night in the first place,” Ariana said as she crossed her arms over her chest for what felt like the millionth time. Why was she here? What was this possibly going to accomplish? This had been another bad idea in her long series of dumbass decisions. Then all of a sudden she couldn’t tell who she was more angry at-- Lydia or herself. “I may have bitten him, but you didn’t have to shoot him,” she retorted though she still felt her stomach doing flips inside of her as she did. She should have gotten better help. She should have done literally anything else, but Lydia could have also just chosen not to kill him, too. “Uh, not really. I don’t know, think you’re old enough to figure out how to find a less serial killer Netflix documentary way of preparing your dinner, Vicky.” Her words were sharp, especially as she emphasized the name she’d found on Lydia’s subreddit. She shifted uncomfortably as Lydia apologized about her sister. It felt all wrong. “Oh,” she started, unsure if this was a trick or something, “No one should have to know what that feels like.” Had Lydia’s sister been as terrible as she was? “That doesn’t make this better. Did you at least bury him or do something?”

“He would never have survived as a wolf. He didn’t have the constitution for it. He wouldn’t have been happy as one, and he would have grown to resent you in the end. His family are hunters, after all,” Lydia replied, her words as barbed as icicles where Ariana had struck a nerve, “Do you really think he would have been happy, long term, when he spent his whole life learning how wrong we were. All you offered was a flightful fantasy, enough for the moment and no more.” She raised her eyebrows at the reference to a different name. It should be mildly concerning that Ariana had found it, or had even bother to in the first place, but it was laughable the way the girl threw it as an insult when it had been a name Lydia had chosen for herself. The tone sombered, dead siblings lingering in the air. “I took care of his body.”

Her resolve struggled as Lydia threw the very fears she had this entire time right back in her face. Even if Ariana had managed to save him, what if Alcher and Lydia were both right and he just ended up hating her for it? He probably hated her now too and the realization made her feel sick. “You don’t know that,” she responded weakly, not even believing herself at this point. What was she supposed to do now? Her heart felt ready to burst and it was becoming harder to breathe again. No, she wasn’t doing this here. She did her best to maintain a half-assed glare that likely didn’t do much to convince Lydia that she was mad at anyone but herself. “You took care of it,” Her breath hitched in her throat for what felt like the millionth time and she swallowed it back down, “How?”

“I know him better than you ever would have,” Lydia replied with a poignant shrug. “You could only have met him a handful of times. I felt everything he felt, for more than a year. How could you possibly compare?” Misguided and terrible as this all was, Lydia did feel for the young wolf, naive and deflating under the weight of her actions. Of course, Lydia would have to take precautions, she was still infuriated, but she did feel a twinge of guilt at tearing a child down so effortlessly. Then she remembered that Chloe was refusing to speak because of the situation Ariana had caused, and her mood soured all over. “Why? Do you want to pay your respects?”

Another surge of anger went through her as Lydia spoke. She didn’t know Ace better, not when she was influencing his emotions and actions. Then again, didn’t Ariana only know the version of him that had been under Lydia’s direction? Suddenly, she felt deflated again. “Yeah, fine. You knew him so well and still,” her voice cracked as she spoke and her mouth felt entirely too dry, “Maybe not as well, but I knew and cared about him, okay? I didn’t-- I just wanted… Fuck.” She could feel her heart thudding heavily against her chest and her clenched fist ready to crash into the next thing she saw. She needed to breathe. She needed to keep control of herself. There were other people here that she didn’t want to hurt. Hell, she didn’t want to hurt Lydia either. Not really as much as she envisioned how good it would feel to rip her to shreds. Her next question drew her out of the rabbit hole she was letting herself fall into. “I-- would you let me?” She asked even though she was almost sure of the answer.

“You were just spoiled. You tried to take something that wasn’t yours, you don’t get to cry now you broke it. I’m sure you cared, but you were selfish,” Lydia replied harshly, cocking her head back to sneer at Ariana down her nose, looking down on the girl even though she was the one sitting, not Ariana. Lydia sighed, brushing invisible crumbs from her skirt, brushing the entire affair away. Ariana already knew what her answer would be. So that Lydia could let the girl lead someone to incriminating evidence. If she was so soft on a human to deliberately bite him, she would be soft on the wrong kinds of humans too. “I wish things were different, Ariana. I had no desire to take a human you liked away from you. If you wanted to make him your pet so badly, all you had to do was make the trade. I’m already taking more risks than I can afford just trying to pacify you.”

Ariana knew it wouldn’t matter to her that a person couldn’t belong to anyone but themselves. Nothing she said or did mattered anymore. Ace was already dead. Lydia already knew it was her who bit him in the first place. She grumbled, “Yeah, whatever you say Lydia. I don’t know why I bothered coming to talk to you about this.” She’d been so heated, she’d needed some kind of answer, but what she found only confirmed what she already knew. Her actions had essentially sped up the timeline for Ace’s inevitable death. The familiar feeling of lead in her lungs was catching back up to her. The air in here felt too thick and she needed out. “He’s not a-- you know, whatever fine. I don’t see why it’s a risk, but I shouldn’t have even bothered coming here.”

“I hope you got what you were looking for.” Lydia replied. All of that righteous passion extinguished. Lydia almost felt bad. The girl was friends with Deirdre, perhaps she might find some solace there. Deirdre was good at being kind. Although that would be inconvenient, bringing Morgan into this all too. Morgan was far too human to understand this either, and unlike the welp in front of her, Lydia cared what Morgan thought. “Hmmm, perhaps not, but you have saved me some work in coming, however much trouble you’ve caused.” Lydia narrowed her eyes, sitting forward. Under her desk, her legs jittered. The spores were thick in the air today. “I see that we still don’t see eye to eye. Oh, sweet Ariana, you’ve forgotten you owe me a gratitude.”

Ariana hadn’t been sure what she was looking for, but this certainly wasn’t it. She’d already known Ace was dead. She’d heard the gunshot and smelled his blood. It wasn’t as if Lydia was going to provide any insightful answers or let her properly say goodbye. So she bit her tongue and said nothing. It seemed only now she was reminded of just how dangerous Lydia could be. Athena and Kaden had both warned her of this yet she still stomped over here fueled by grief and rage without any sort of a plan. She felt defeated, but a small spark in her still fired back. “Oh yes, I’m so glad I could save you some work,” she said sarcastically even though her glare was softer now. She’d been ready to walk out the door when she froze. A gratitude was owed. She remembered Kaden mentioning “thank you” could be a dangerous thing to say to a fae, but it had already been too late and she’d been hopeful it hadn’t been something Lydia was actually able to turn into a promise. Her heart felt as is if it was caught in her throat as she looked to Lydia. “What do you want?”

“For you to get off your moral high horse. For you to pay the price for what you made me do. The danger you put me in.” Lydia paused, her eyes flicking off into the distance as a small smile curled her lips. “You know what? I have had the most amazing idea. It’s ever so fitting. Let the punishment fit the crime, and all that. If you’re so eager to dilute your species by making humans into werewolves, then you should do that. Spend the next full moon in the Common. Or at the very least, start it there. Of course, I expect you not to talk about this situation with anyone.” Lydia shrugged, spinning her chair back and forth, and as another idea struck her, her smile grew. “If you like, once you’ve secured a few humans to fill Sammy’s place in your life, we can talk again, settle our differences and all that.” If they ever got to that. It was the kind of thing that would change Ariana the same way eating her own mother had changed Lydia. She would understand just how cheap human lives were once she’d had a taste of her own. And if she didn’t? That guilt eating her up right now would only magnify, suffocating her until she left, unable to cope. Lydia was fine with both of those options, honestly.

“I didn’t make you do anything,” Ariana snarled as she took a few steps back. She already hated where this was going. Lydia wanted to punish her on top of killing Ace. Seriously? Was she not already struggling enough? Horror crossed her face as Lydia continued. Did she really have to do this? She supposed she wouldn’t really be able to test the waters until then, but she already felt sick. There was no way she could shift in the Common under the full moon and maintain her control. Outside of the moon was one albeit still very difficult thing, but during. Shit. Then she was mentioning settling differences once someone filled Sammy’s place in her life? Something struck her with hearing his name for the first time and so cruelly from her lips. She wanted to rip into her and make all of her promises fucking meaningless, but something was pulling her back. It’d be so easy, to just shift right here and have this be done with, but she couldn’t. Instead, she let her anger simmer inside her and decided she needed to leave before she caused even more damage. “Oh, fuck you,” she said with a newfound ferocity before storming out of the place. She was sure to slam the door behind her, hopefully hard enough to cause some sort of damage.

#wickedswriting #para #chatzy #ariana #domestic abuse tw

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mwolf0epsilon · 4 years

Text

Why not kill two birds with one stone?

---

The way they'd established supply runs was an intricate ordeal. It was an effort split between a group and a solo act of sorts, with the group scavenging for anything useful (like food , tools, or any bits and bobs that might come in handy later) while one lone soul would run around leading the Ink Demon in circles to keep it well away from the supply run's path. That "morning", after the usual breakfast of bacon soup, stale coffee and ink brew, Henry had assigned the roles through the drawing of straws (actually just pieces of paper he'd tried to cut as evenly as possible) among the few toons that did not have a particular task to complete for the day. Norman, Buddy, Shawn and Grant had thusly ended up together as a group, while Sammy was the unfortunate bait of the day. Not that he had any trouble getting around mind you... He could run faster now that he had a stable body, and he knew the layout of the top floors pretty well now that some of his memories as the Prophet ressurfaced. He could also sense the demon's presence more acutely so he could run circles around the damn thing without it realizing it was being duped.

Overall it was a solid team. Too solid even.

Which of course called for some action on 'Wally's part.

'Wally' had it all figured out or at least that's what he liked to think. He was, for a matter of lack of words, a wolf in sheep's clothing... Or... a sheep in wolf's clothing? Or was it an idea in sheepish wolf's clothing?

Ok maybe he didn't have it all figured out, but who cared? He didn't have to do the big thinking anyway because there were two people doing that for him anyways. All he really needed to do was play is part as the clumsy but charming guy that got everyone else to laugh. Get all cozy and cute with these people and get the plot running real smooth without them realizing it.

Simple in theory but very difficult in practice for, you see, 'Wally' was the idea of Wally Franks constructed in the image of an off-model Boris with a goofy grin, a Brooklyn accent, and a love for pranks and foods he'd never tasted before. Every single tape the Ink could find it used to create him. Including one very specific trait: Wally Franks was a bit of a dick sometimes, but he was genuinely nice to those he care for. And it just so happened he cared for all these other dicks who were currently living cartoon characters. Yes even Sammy Stick-Up-The-Ass Lawrence... What a dang predicament...

Sabotaging them on Joey's and the Ink's command was getting harder and harder each time, and both his creators were not happy with this.

He either did as he was told, or he'd be in a world of trouble. He needed to do something big, and fast!

Thus came the idea to sabotage the supply run. A plan that quickly went off the rails big time because he'd turned off his brain for just a second...

Sneaking off was really easy. Tom had told him to fasten some of the bolts on the less stable pipes upstairs and, after some very convincing grumbling under his breath, he'd gone up to do just that. Except he kept on walking right past where his stop was at. He had eyes on a much bigger task than fiddling with some faulty pipework that was gonna burst later anyways.

Sammy was awfully suspicious of him, so 'Wally' made sure to wait around to check where he was headed before searching the upper floors for Norman's crew. The Ink had whispered to him, told him that if he took Polk's reels he'd be able to cut the run short and force them to go back. Then the Ink would simply scare off Sammy by leading the demon straight to him when he least expected it.

He'd stupidly not questioned why taking the reels would force the group back. He'd been too curious to see what was on them anyways to consider they might be important to Norman in a physical sense.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

"Anyone else feeling a bit watched?" Grant whispered as 'Wally' crept around from within the walls, keeping his eye on the prize. Polk had fastened the reels into place before leaving, so snatching them off without being noticed wasn't going to be easy. He wasn't a dull joe, however, so he got around that issue with quite the clever grift.

Some of the walls were rotten from being soaked with ink for so long, so one careful tug was all he needed to make a part of the wall and ceiling collapse.

"Watch out!" The object-head toon turned around to shield his partners, blocking their view and being unable to see as 'Wally' quickly descended upon him and took both items in one swift motion. Using the dust clouds and sound of crunching wood as cover to flee from the scene.

As easy and sweet as pie! He could already hear his creators praising him for the good job. Now to figure out what was so damn important about these dang films that Polk obcessed over them so much...

As soon as he'd found a projector he popped them in and eagerly awaited a show. The first few minutes of footage confused him, as he wasn't seeing cartoons but real human people. Then a few more minutes of this strange "real people film" made him realize it wasn't some fictional bad soap opera that the projectionist had somehow saved.

These were moments in Norman's life. Norman's memories. They were a part of him.

Which is when 'Wally' realized he fucked up. Wait no, that wasn't true. He realized this when a terrifying roar and three terrified screams shook the halls...

---

Sammy's wool stood on end as soon as he heard the roar just one floor below him. The bellowing of the Projectionist when he was still a feral ink abomination. A screech that had followed him and Jack as they ran like their butts were on fire towards the base where a temporary cage awaited the monster Norman Polk had become.

That screech that was somehow ringing downstairs, diverting the demon's attention from the sheep toon. Something terrible had happened and the others were likely in a world of trouble. He had to move.

Rushing down the stairs Sammy listened to the horrific roars and the screams of his coworkers. He then followed the mess left behind. Splintered doors, broken furniture and a trail of ink. Someone's ink.

Someone was injured while the demon was on the prowl.

He turned a corner and stumbled as he walked into 'Wally'. He was surprised at first, unsure why the cartoon wolf would be all the way upstairs, before his eyes landed on two very familiar blank looking reels. It clicked in his mind that the roars and 'Wally' holding these two items Norman had been protective of were connected somehow.

"You..." He snarled, actually snarled, wool turning to bristled fur on the back of his neck and tip of his tail as anger replaced apprehension.

"I... I can explain!"

"What did you do?!"

"I was... I was fixin' the pipes and a wall collapsed! I swear! I found these and... I think they were Norman's? I figured I might need to give 'em back an--"

"Cut the €π@¶, you're a $#!¥ liar mutt..." Sammy hissed furiously as he grabbed 'Wally' by the ears. "I told Henry you were bad news, but did he listen? No!"

"O-ow Sammy that smarts!"

"Trust me once I tell the others, me pulling on your ears will feel like a light spanking..." The sheep toon began to drag the wolf along, continuing his search for his missing teammates.

His anger dissipating as the trail of ink (blood) continued on. And then it stopped. Right in front a little miracle station situated in a trashed room.

Sammy stared at it for a little while before pressing his head to it. He could hear muffled familiar crying.

"Grant, you in there...?" He called, hoping for anything. A meek yes, a sob, anything...

He didn't expect the station to open up and have two child-sized toons tackle him in desperation.

Shawn and Grant were terrified. Worse yet... Buddy was with them and he did not look well.

'Wally' stared at the heavily wounded toon dog, barely able to look at the extensive damage. The kid was missing chunks for Pete's sake!

"What happened?" Sammy tried to get the others to talk.

"A wall collapsed, and... £¢€&... Oh my god..." Grant was hysterical and Shawn wasn't any better.

"It was mad, madness! I can't... And Norman..."

"Words, use your words, come on! What happened? Where's Norman?!" Sammy insisted, shaking the two smaller toons for good measure. They hiccuped and sobbed, and Grant could barely hold up one of his hands to point to a corner, where a lone projector lay discarded. 'Wally's stomach plummeted at the sight, and Sammy's grip slackened as he realized the implications.

"He went n-nuts... He attacked us! Buddy t-tried to stop him... W-we could barely escape into the station and then... Oh god Sammy, the Demon killed Norman! It just..."

"Head straight off, like he was nothin'!"

The reels clattered to the floor, rolling a few feet to meet with the projector that was spurting ink like a macabre fountain piece. 'Wally' had messed up big time.

#Eps Writes:#Bendy and the Ink Machine #BATIM #Fanfic #SillyTunes AU #Wally Franks #Norman Polk

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justimajin · 4 years

Text

A Lone Wolf’s Howl ☾ Part 9

⇾ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

⇾ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Action, Eventual Smut

↳ Werewolf AU

⇾ Words: 3k

⇾ Warnings: more angst but with a touch of fluff

⇾ Summary: Jungkook and you have been like two peas in a pod for the majority of your lives; whether it was going through the ups of downs of the horrid teenage change, to transitioning to the racing world of attempting to be adults. Simply put, you’ve been inseparable and glued to each other’s sides longer than you can remember. But one fateful day seems to completely change everything you had faith in and you begin to wonder if there was ever a time where you and your best friend even knew each other’s true colors.

⇾ Moodboard Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

You can’t seem to recall how long you were in the same spot, Jungkook holding onto you as tears kept streaming down your eyes. It was like you had just opened up Pandora’s box, hoping that taking the daunting step forward to do so would grant you more solace about what had happened to your parents, but instead, you’re only met with a swarm of information that hits you in the wrong way.

Within the impending silence of the room, Jungkook speaks up, “I knew you hated werewolves more than anything, but I didn’t know about your parents.” He sighs, leaning away from you and attempting to look into your silver eyes, “I thought they were still alive.”

You shake your head, wiping away a fallen tear, “I knew telling you about them would reveal my identity as a slayer, but-“ A frown settles on your lips and you wonder how you could have been even more wrong when you were so sure of yourself, “I never expected Namjoon to say that it wasn’t possible.”

“You saw werewolves, right?” You nod and he sighs, shaking his head, “It doesn’t add up Y/N. Rogue werewolves are a rarity these days, I can’t even remember the last time I saw one.”

You shift closer to him, “What are rogues exactly? Namjoon mentioned them but I don’t think I’ve ever heard about anything like that.” Your mind shifts back to your training, not being able to put a knowing finger on if it was ever brought up to you.

“They’re like werewolves, but in a constant feral state.” Jungkook explains, “They have no sense of identity or direction and they just attack whoever they see.”

“Like a zombie?”

Jungkook chuckles, “Weird comparison but yeah. Imagine the zombies from a Train to Busan except they have claws and weigh a ton.”

You softly smile at that, but then your lips pursue, “Hey Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

“Could I ask you a question?”

“Go for it.”

“Do you…“ Your voice fades and you sigh, squeezing your eyes shut, “Do you…hate me?”

Jungkook turns around, frowning, “Why would I hate you?”

“Because I put you through so much.” You exhale, “When I found out your identity, I hated the idea of you being a werewolf and then you got injured because of me…” Your eyes trail over to the healing wound on his side, “And now just knowing that everything I’ve been taught since I was little could be wrong, I-“

“Y/N.” Jungkook softly calls your name, causing your wide eyes to look up at him when you go silent, “You’re my best friend and mate before you’re even a slayer in my eyes. That’s not going to change.”

There’s a warm look residing in his eyes and you nod, feeling a bit relieved after all you’ve gone through. However, his words spark a peek of curiosity within you, making you wonder even more, “Can I ask you another question?”

He nods, “What is mating? Like the process and such?” You sigh, “I wasn't really told anything about it.”

“Oh.” Jungkook suddenly becomes a deer in headlights and the room plunges into a brief silence as you can catch glimpses of red rapidly scattering over his cheeks. You raise an inquiring eyebrow at that, until something sparks in your eyes and you point it out with a small laugh.

“Jungkook, are you blushing?”

“What?! Of course not!” He suddenly gets up, startling you a bit when he paces around the room and doesn’t make any eye contact with you. You rise as well, wondering if perhaps you shouldn’t have asked in the first place if he was going to react in such a way.

You smile, “You’re blushing.”

“I’m not!”

“Jungkook, I’ve known you for years.” You draw closer to him, tilting your head and getting a perfect view of his completely flushed features. “You know you can’t hide from me.”

Jungkook stares at you, like he knew what you were saying was right despite him turning away. He sighs, attempting to collect himself so he can at least explain it somewhat decently well to you.

“M-Mating happens when a wolf claims someone through a bite.” He gestures over to your neck, yet still dares not to look at you, “And the process,” He sighs, catching a glimpse of your clueless eyes, “is complete when the wolf claims his mate entirely.”

“Entirely?”

Jungkook simply nods and you contemplate about it, thinking his words actually confused you more than clarifying things. “I don’t think I follow…”

You move closer, reaching out a hand to place onto his shoulder so you can properly meet his eyes when he speaks to you rather than getting a collection of muffled words in return. He instantly flinches, moving away from you and causing you to misinterpret the gap when you’re suddenly stumbling forward.

“Are you okay?!” He asks, spinning around immediately when he saw your form falling down and you nod, still amused by the slight pink still blooming along his skin when you begin to piece together the answer.

Since he’s finally facing you, you decide to tread closer onto the thin ice, “If wolves initially claim their mates with a bite,” You bring your fingers to the side of your neck and his eyes linger against the column, “Then they probably need to claim more to be fully mated right?”

He just nods, not trusting his voice at all when you move closer to him and smile, taking your best shot at the true implication hidden within his explanation, “So we have to spend the night together?”

Suddenly you’re falling again, heading face forward onto the ground. Your hands shoot out, breaking your fall instantly a mere inch away from the hard floor.

“Jungkook!” You harshly whisper and he immediately leans down, assisting you in getting up as a string of apologies escape his lips.

“Sorry…” His voice contorts, attempting to get a hold on himself and letting out a deep sigh, “You’re right. That’s the process.”

Once you get up, he stares at you intently, like he was watching how you would react or what you would say, if you would say anything at all.

“I see…”

“You don’t have to!” Jungkook immediately clarifies, “It’s part of the process and it’s new for you but I’m not going to push you into anything an-“

“But you did claim me.”

“Well, that was because- “

“You couldn’t bear seeing me with Jimin?”

A giggle blooms out from your throat and Jungkook just glares at you, shedding off all the nervousness he was feeling in an instant. “I was actually going to say wolf instincts.”

“Right, right.” You smile, “Keep telling yourself that.”

Jungkook looks at you in disbelief and just as he about to retort something back, the door opens and a serious Yoongi enters the room.

“Hey, we got our hands on some new information. We need the hybrid to come.”

“Her name is Y/N Hyung.”

He shrugs, “Y/N. Hybrid. Same thing.”

You roll your eyes at that and gesture for Jungkook to come along with you. He obliges and you close the door, trailing after Yoongi who brings you to the library.

Jungkook walks next to you and you smile, everything slowly falling back into place and filling you with a sense of relief that you haven’t lost the ability to talk to him normally anymore. Even though it was only for a moment, you’re glad that in the midst of all that was going on, it didn’t fade away.

You enter the room with a grin, not realizing that the small bubble of happiness you had managed to create was going to burst.

***

Namjoon sits on the opposite end of the doorway, leaning back into his seat as his finger mindlessly taps against his chin. The door softly opens, and his concentrated gaze is transferred over to it, watching you and Jungkook enter into the room with expectant eyes.

“You had called for me?” You seat yourself down next to Namjoon and he nods, but you notice how his eyes intensify with every passing moment.

You’re aren’t sure what to expect. Learning that your parents weren’t killed by the very thing you’ve chosen to hunt was a harsh blow. You had seen it with your own eyes and unless you were hallucinating at the time, it doesn’t seem to connect any of the lingering dots. However, it does beg the one question that has been swimming endlessly within the confines of your mind.

What did happen to your parents?

“We track every single one of our moves, keeping records to carefully strategize with our pack as well as neighbouring packs.” Namjoon reaches out and Yoongi enters the room to hand him a collection of letters which he places in front of you. “I’ve spoken to all of their Alpha’s and none of them have records pertaining to an attack on a family.”

You furrow your brows and Namjoon continues, “We kept investigating and I talked to one Alpha in particular.” He slides a letter over to you, gesturing for you to open it, “His pack had history with the Crimson Clan, specifically the Elder.”

You take the enveloped paper, carefully tearing the opening and sliding the letter out. There are intricate swirls all around it similar to the designs on the rooms you have seen, however, this one had blue instead of gold printed on it. Looking down, you see the initials JB on the bottom.

“Jaebum had informed me of encountering the Elder when she used her slayer skills in a fight against him.” Namjoon explains as your eyes continue to grow wider with every inked word you read, “He managed to overcome her, however shortly after there were more and more sightings of her from his members.”

“She began to attack his clan repeatedly after that, with a higher number of slayers by her side every time. It was confusing for Jaebum because slayers weren’t needed as much at the time and seeing their numbers suddenly grow alarmed him.”

“After some investigating had been done by his pack, it was discovered that the elder had been collecting slayers.” Namjoon says, “Recruiting as many as she could to create a new clan of her own.”

“The Crimson Clan.” You whisper and Namjoon nods.

“Still, creating such a large clan on her own isn’t easy to accomplish, so our assumption is that she had something else helping her. Something a lot more powerful and something that would listen to her commands without hesitation. Almost like–“

“A zombie.” You finish, eyes growing hollower by the minute with Namjoon’s words.

“Correct.” Namjoon states and you swallow hard, feeling Jungkook stiffen next to you.

You want to stop. You don’t want to keep questioning her motives or her beliefs, but its stinging you, a pricking sensation that makes you just want to rip the bandage off already. “These slayers, that the Elder ‘collected’,” You take in a deep breath, “What do you think her end purpose for them was?”

You know asking Namjoon for an opinion is the last thing you ever wanted to do, however that fine line of what was right and wrong is starting to blur even more in your mind and you don’t know which is which anymore.

“I’m not too sure.” Namjoon truthfully says, brows contorting and thoughts searching to give you an answer that would ease the violent spike ensuring inside you, “If she really had such powerful forces on her side, then it begs the question of why she even thought to collect so many slayers.”

“Maybe it was to recreate the once faded slayer population again. Maybe it was because the rogue population was starting to emerge. There’s various reasons as to why she took the decision, but considering as to what slayers hunt, it does lead to one thought in my mind.”

Namjoon somberly gazes at you, like he knew that you had the same thought too and it wasn’t his place to bring it into light.

You clench your teeth, gloss spreading over your eyes as you glance down at your feet. Letting out a shaky breath, you say it.

“She needed weapons.”

Namjoon doesn’t respond, simply sinks back into his chair and stares at you with apologetic eyes. It’s like he was trying to prevent the whole conversation from happening until the chain of events from his research had led into it and his expression tells you that he ultimately didn’t want the truth to hurt you in any way. You appreciate it sincerely, however knowing the truth was something you had greatly pushed upon and needed to know no matter what.

You just wish it didn’t feel so horrible.

Namjoon immediately senses the atmosphere thankfully and he gestures to Jungkook to take you back to your room. Jungkook nods, holding your shoulders carefully with his hands and you let him, not having will in you left anymore when you become as limp as a doll.

***

Grabbing onto the glass from the table, Jungkook pours water into it and turns around, seeing you seated on your bed silently with your gaze fixated on the ground. He walks away, quietly sitting down next to you and offers you the glass, which you gladly accept with a weak smile.

The silence dips in as you bring the glass to your mouth, taking a few gulps and then keeping the empty glass in your hands, occasionally smoothing your fingers over the similar design that’s on the door and the hallways.

Jungkook just watches you, his eyes not moving away but seemingly diving more and more into concern.

You take a deep breath, but before you can say anything, he beats you to it, “…sorry.”

You frown and glance over to him, noticing him fidgeting with his sleeves now instead of the prolonged eye contact he was having with you before, “Why are you apologizing?”

“Because you would have been fine if you didn’t know.” He looks up, a remorseful smile on his lips, but you know his words go far past then your current situation, “Sometimes not knowing can save a person from the truth.”

You nod but then a bitter smile crosses your features, “Sometimes not knowing can leave your whole life feeling like a lie.” Your eyes drift over to the glass in your hands again, carefully craving over the ridges with your fingertips, “And instead of fighting for someone else, you would have fought for the people you really care about.”

“But you did care.” Jungkook intervenes right away, leaning closer to you, “You cared about the Elder and that’s what you were fighting for.”

“So that I could forget the people I really wanted to fight for?” You turn to him with wet eyes, not being capable of holding it back anymore, “My parents, I thought they were killed by werewolves this entire time, but to find out that was all a lie, that I was fighting for the wrong cause when all I wanted to do was the right thing.”

Jungkook nods, intently listening to you but you chuckle, looking up at him, “And you. Fighting against you, my best friend. Someone I want to fight for, never against.”

Jungkook stares at you but you can see the warmth cascading slowly through his eyes, like they had been genuinely wanting to hear those words. He doesn’t say anything though, letting you have a moment to process all of these thoughts.

“To know the result of all this could be her.” You bite down on your lip, harshly contorting your features, “It makes my blood boil.”

“Then decide.”

A deep voice beckons you from the doorway and you turn to see Namjoon standing with his arms crossed, leaning against the wall. He pushes himself off and walks closer, glancing at you with challenging eyes. “You’ve been torn, haven’t you? Of where you stand now?”

Your eyes widen from his observation and for a moment, you wonder how transparent you’ve exactly been.

Namjoon speaks again when your silence only responds back to him, “Y/N.”

You look up when he calls for you, “Despite whichever you choose, we will help you.”

Namjoon states the words like a promise that won’t ever be broken, and you stare at him in surprise, wondering how he was able to even suggest helping you when the very idea of not joining them meant your own demise.

“Why…why would you do that?” You ask out of mere disbelief and curiosity, but his answer takes you by even more surprise.

“Although we don’t know the full story,” Namjoon pauses, shaking his head in disapproval, “No one deserves to be conditioned in such a way regardless. Be it slayer or wolf.”

You nod, a collection of thoughts soaring inside your mind at his words. Jungkook places a hand against your shoulder and you turn to meet eyes with him, faintly smiling when you know he’s telling you that he agrees with Namjoon.

No matter what side you choose.

They will help you.

You’re thankful, however in the past few days, you’ve been exposed to a lot of new information you didn’t even think was possible. You second-guessed yourself and you were forced to face some hard truths, for it to lead up to this single moment.

Standing up, you walk over to Namjoon with firm steps, silver eyes darkening when the decision you’ve made has come to light and there’s nothing more that you want then to see it take place.

Looking Namjoon straight in the eyes, the words you utter not only throw him completely off guard, they startle your best friend as well.

“What would it take to destroy an entire clan?”

#btswriterscollective #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook fanfic #bts werewolf au #jungkook fluff #bts jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook fanfic #jungkook werewolf au #jeon jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook werewolf au #jungkook angst #bts jungkook angst #jeon jungkook angst #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts imagines #bts scenarios #justimajin

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