#It's gonna be a slow burn | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ghouljams · 8 months

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Viking soap! Viking soap! Viking soap!

Grrrrrrrr Yes ok yes because I am feral for this idea and you're partially engaging a special interest of mine.

You spot him at the same moment he does you. A flash of blue eyes reflecting the shallow river, long hair shorn short on the sides, the fur the edges his clothes marks him as easily as the paint on his face. A viking. He stands as quickly as you step back, his eyes fixed on you. If he's here there must be more at your village. You know well enough that these men don't travel as solitary creatures.

You turn and run towards your home. You hear the crash of him through the forest behind you giving chase. Even knowing the land as well as you do the terrain is uneven, the roots are made to catch your feet, and the branches are low to obscure your vision. You don't have the deer's advantage of darting movement to keep you out of reach. Each step you can hear him getting closer, until you feel his hands grab you.

The man, the viking, catches you around your middle. You kick and scream and make every effort to batter him with your fists, to make yourself difficult prey. You've heard enough stories about what these men do to know you want no part of it. He lifts you, hauls you up off the ground as you fight and twist.

"Would you be still, I'm not going to hurt you," The man tells you in gaelic. You freeze at the familiar tongue.

"You're a liar," You push at him, claw at his grip, "why would you chase me if you weren't hunting me?"

"Why would you run?" He asks, grabbing your wrists to pin them against his chest. You glare at him, your chest heaving as you gather your breath back. He's handsome, for a viking. There's something sort of rakish about the stubble on his face and the set of his brow. "Did I do something to scare you, bonnie?" It's not an honest question, he knows full well why you'd run.

You keep quiet, keep your glare level with him. An easy task with him holding you up, his arm hooked around your thighs. His head tips back to look at you with a smile. "Aren't you pretty," He whispers, hardly phased by the run or your anger. When you don't respond he seems to find his head again, his smile dropping to something more serious.

"Fine, courting later, business now." He sets you back down, keeping a tight grip on your wrists now that you've proven yourself a runner. "I'm here to negotiate a trade, I need an escort," He explains, though you would think a man needing an escort would have a shorter handle on the ax at his hip.

"A bad liar," You amend your previous statement, tugging at his hold.

"Fine," He relents, "I want an escort. Escort me." He insists, tugging you against his chest again. You're really getting tired of bumping into him.

"Why? So you can lead a raiding party back as soon as I turn around?" You spit.

“To what end?” The viking asks, tips his head to the side, his eyes hard on you, “What use do we have for dead healers?”

You stop your struggling, stunned. He’s not wrong, but he speaks to an understanding of your village you hadn’t expected. How much did this man and his company know about you? How many scouts had walked your paths, watched your neighbors work? He’s right, dead healers are useless, but so are port healers. Vikings are only as strong as their weakest man, wouldn’t they prefer to keep healers on hand?

“You said-” You swallow, “You said you were here to negotiate a trade. What- A trade for what?” He looks away from you, and you have your answer. You were right to run, he’s here for one of you.

“Let’s go,” He doesn’t pull you, but you follow him anyway. Your mind races, thinking through the people your elders would offer up. Who was the most skilled, the most expendable, weighing what you might get in return. What couldn’t these vikings offer you? Safety, rare goods, money, animals, friendship. Invaluable intangible things that would aid all of you, for whatever price they set. It’s still only the illusion of a choice.

Your wrist is still held tight in his grip as you walk beside him. An escort, what a joke. You’re not going to put in a good word for him or do anything more than act as a pass for him to walk your streets. You’re busy working on your escape plan when you smell it.

Smoke, just as you step clear of the forest.

"Gods," the man breathes, both of you standing on top of the hill at the edge of the forest, watching your home burn. Your eyes grow wide watching the fleeing shadows of raiders, the sacrifices of you kin. What are they doing? Why would they- A mass of fire belches from the center of your village, the man covers your eyes, shields you from the heat of it with his cloak. The tattered tartan catches your attention, makes your heart pound in your chest. You recognize it, Mactavish. He was one of you.

"We have to go," He tells you. You try to pull yourself free, scream for your family down the hill. He catches you around the middle again, hauls you back into the safety of the forest.

"Tell them to stop," you beg. Your sobbing pleas fall on deaf ears.

“Those aren’t my men,” He doesn’t set you down, transfers your squirming to his shoulder with a grunt and keeps his pace. You can still see the lick of flame and smoke through the trees. The only home you’ve ever known, gone in an instant and all you can do is watch. The forest grows thicker around you as you lay against the familiar unfamiliar tartan and let yourself be carried off like a spoil.

#I'm gonna close the ask box if y'all keep giving me aus #Just so you know this would be a slow burn like Knight Ghost #but I have a few scenes in mind #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap modern warfare #soap cod #soap mw2 #soap x you #soap x reader #john mactavish #john mactavish x you #cod x reader #x reader #this fic brought to you by De Selby parts 1 and 2 #viking!soap #I should rename my medieval to just historic

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auspicioustidings · 5 months

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https://www.tumblr.com/auspicioustidings/734619885087375360/i-cannot-write-for-shit-right-now-so-any-little

Hmmmm I’m seeing so many x single mom readers and not sure if this is something you’re even interested in BUT

Simon meeting his pretty new neighbor while she’s moving I and realizes she is either a.) heavily pregnant or b.) has a very young baby so Simon goes “hmmmm mine now :)” and helps her out a little? (Alternatively, if you don’t wanna do Simon for this, then maybe Price?)

(Also if you haven’t read @peachesofteal’s Light On fic, Simon x single mom reader, I implore if you to do so!!! It’s so good)

Peaches Light On fics, and I am being so deadass serious, give me such a flood of serotonin any time I see a new one. Everyone get your butt over there because they are the standard for single mother content as far as I am concerned!

That being said, I've put a bit of a twist on this so it's not really what you requested at all, sorry :') I could not do a similar idea to Peaches because there is nothing I can do to improve perfection!

Tactical Action

Words: 1.1k

CWs: mentions of death

“It's not a shame Price, it's fucking ridiculous.”

Simon Riley was furious looking at the paperwork. It wasn't often that TF141 kept tabs on a promising rookie so when they did he expected nothing but excellence. What he did not expect was a large ‘Early Service Leaver’ stamp over an otherwise exemplary record.

“Their brother died in that warship collision, can't blame them for wanting out.”

“My brother was murdered, I kept fucking going.”

He had met you once when Johnny had dragged him. His Sergeant was both excited and annoyed that someone had gotten the new record for the 3rd selection phase. It made sense to get some feel for you then, if you were as good at escape, evasion and tactical questioning as the test scores suggested then the 141 needed to have you on their radar because the PMCs certainly would.

You were a determined thing, shoulders back and addressing them with just the right amount of respect. Not arrogant, but not a pushover. Soap had been talking about how much he wanted to get his hands on you the whole drive back to base because he was a horny idiot and you were a challenge he found intriguing. Simon had just rolled his eyes and added your record to the small pile in Price's office.

He knew a little of your background. Both parents gone, one sibling in the navy. Well one sibling now KIA. He could have understood taking leave, but to quit entirely? It made him angry, he thought it was a waste of potential. Price could see how it affected him and he sighed.

“Go talk to them then. But do not get yourself reported for harassment and intimidation Simon, if they don't want back in then we make our peace with that.”

That was all the permission he needed. He probably should have taken Soap really, someone who could be comforting and coax you back. But fuck it, you were supposed to be good under pressure so he was going to give you some hard damn advice on not bloody giving up.

–

Exhausted didn't even begin to describe how you felt. This was the hardest thing you had ever done, but you were not going to just give up. You couldn't, not with this tiny thing relying on you.

She had never even got to meet her parents. Your brother died just before the due date in that accident and then his girlfriend had died from complications in childbirth. You had promised her you would look after their baby if anything happened, made an oath that you'd not let her parents anywhere near such an innocent little thing.

So you were on your own with nothing but grief and exhaustion and an ever dwindling death in service payment. They would pay part of your brother's pension out each month at least for the baby, but you were terrified that it wouldn't be enough to give her a life she deserved. She certainly deserved her parents and not her fathers ill equipped sibling, but you could only do your best even with the knowledge it would never be enough.

You flinched when there was a hard knock at the door of your flat, freezing but taking a breath when the baby remained sleeping in your arms. You needed to move at one point you knew, a flat in a bit of a rough area was fine for a soldier (ex-soldier you reminded yourself) but not so much for a baby.

The security you had upgraded as best you could at the moment and you checked the door camera to see Lieutenant Riley. Ghost. You had met him briefly once, but what was a legend like him doing here? Shit. You knew you looked a wreck but it wasn't like you could ignore him so you opened the door, bouncing baby girl gently to keep her sleeping.

Simon's planned tirade died the moment he saw the situation. You had a baby. Oh that changed his tirade significantly. Your marital status had listed single, so he could only assume you had gotten yourself knocked up by some casual hookup. That was unacceptable in a soldier, so bloody stupid.

“Shit” you cursed when she woke up, heading back inside and giving him a nod of invite.

You bounced her and tried to coo at her to go back to sleep. To please God go back to sleep. You never knew what she wanted, it felt like whatever you did was always wrong. And of course then she started wailing and the Lieutenant was in your flat closing the door behind him witnessing your absolute failure to take care of a baby.

“Oh for Christ sake, give her here.”

Simon took the baby and hoisted the little thing up onto his shoulder, rubbing hard at her back.

“When was the last time you fed her?”

“I- well, just before you got here. 10 minutes ago maybe? Just got her to sleep.”

“Did you burp her?”

“Oh. I…” you replied, straining yourself in an attempt not to cry. “No. I forgot.”

While his eyes were sharp on you his hands and voice were gentle and soothing for the baby. He was good at this. Did he have kids? Fuck was everyone just innately good at caring for babies but you?

“Didn't stop to think if you could take care of her before having her?”

“She's not mine. Well I suppose she is. I'm her only living relative, or only decent one at least. I, um… that warship accident from a few months back. My brother died during it and her mum passed during the birth. I'm her legal guardian now. I'm what she has sir, it was the best tactical action given the circumstance” you said, straightening up despite your exhaustion and prolonged terror at being responsible for such an innocent little thing.

Simon cocked his head to the side as the baby on his shoulder burped and gurgled, now trying to get back to sleep. You were still a soldier he saw then, you were fighting back your emotions to give him a report on the situation. He reevaluated after the sitrep and took a moment to find the best course of action.

“Marry me then.”

“Sir?”

“We can get it done tomorrow. Might take a bit of time to get a decent house but we'll stay in my flat until then, better area. Still going to be out on assignment a lot but any death benefit would go to you and the widows pension would set you up for life. I'm what you have rookie, it's the best tactical action.”

“Yes sir.”

#mhairiwrites #cod #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #well at least the implication is a slow burn in which they do fall in love #they just do it all very out of order #baby > marriage > moving in > sleeping together > dating #Soap is gonna be pissed

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rookdaw · 7 months

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monster X monster hunter

#baldur’s gate #bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #astarion #wyll #I AM SOOOOOO NOT NORMAL ABOUT THESE TWO #IMAGINE BEING PERFECT FOILS OF EACH OTHER #BOTH TURNED INTO MONSTERS AGAINST THEIR WILL #imagining young wyll trying to court astarion and just being so genuine about it #as one of his first loves he wants to do everything right but is still overall (fairly) new to the whole thing #vs astarion who is much more cynical after 200 years of seducing victims #he knows how to play someone’s heartstrings like anlite and is overall very detached from the whole thing only #doing it to make aure wyll wont murder him or something #but then selune forbid it he starts to develoP FEELINGS FOR HIM KSDBBSJAJA #and then just as astarion starts to fall into love wyll almost falls out of it as he realizes astarion was LYING to his face the whole time #about liking him #and then there is DRAMA and a secret slow burn underneath what you THOUGHT was a fast burn #AHEM. anyways.#im gonna draw more of these two cause wyll is soooo slept on #pictured this as early in their meeting/relationship which is why wyll doesnt have horns yet #also *anlite i meant to type *a lute but shaky fingers #rip no tag editing

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54625 · 5 months

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their dynamic

#fitpac #qsmp #qsmp fitmc #fitmc #qsmp fit #hideduo #pactw #qsmp pac #of course this would never ACTUALLY happen #because in the world's slowest slow burn Fit's gonna get his fucking hair back before ever entertaining the idea of kissing Pac #blood

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feyreswaterybowels · 12 days

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⭒The Silent One⭒

#2 Azriel x Fem!OC

⭒Part 1⭒Part 2⭒Part 3⭒Part 4⭒

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Cassandra decides to join the IC for dinner. Things feel weird and wrong but also…safe and comfortable. She opens up to them about her past traumas and gets to know more about them.

Warnings/Tags: mentions physical and visual sexual abuse in the recent past. describes physical violence. trauma. mute character. slow burn. protective!azriel. protective!IC.

Authors Note: All reblogs, likes and comments are welcome, appreciated and encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for the next part! Regular italics are inter thoughts while bold italics are her communicating with other people mentally.

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“Relax,” Nuala cooed as she helped Cassandra ease into the large bath, warm and floral scented.

Cassandra had never been in a bath like this. Only one suited for regular fae without wings. They had been cramped and uncomfortable and nearly impossible to bathe everywhere without hurting a wing. But this bath? It was huge and could easily fit multiple people with and without wings. It stretched all the way to one of those glassless windows where the water spilled over in a soothing stream.

She leaned back when Nuala prompted, letting her wings float in the water. It was so nice the way they felt so weightless. Nuala tilted her head back and their eyes met as she cupped her hands with water and poured it over Cassandra’s white hair. She lathered it with a nice smelling soap, massaging at her scalp.

It was difficult to lay there and relax while someone else washed her hair. It reminded her of the mistress, how when she bathed her and washed her hair it was rushed and rough and…and when she washed her hair like this she would sometimes push her head under the water and hold her there—

Cassandra bolted up with a gasp, hands coming up to wipe away the water that fell down from her hair and over her face, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She whirled around, wide eyes catching Nuala’s, trying to desperately apologize for what she had done. The female just shook her head gently.

“It’s okay,” She said, “would you like to be left alone for a moment?”

Cassandra considered this, she both wanted to be alone and have someone else around. But she nods her head. Cerridwen walked in then, a stack of something in her hand.

“Clothes for you,” she said, sitting the stack on a shelf across the room. “We will be back but if you finish with your bath and wish to dress before we return the clothes will be here.”

Cassandra nods. She doesn’t know what else to do, but the females seem to understand, offering her small nods in return before leaving the room—the heavy door closing as they leave the bedroom the bedroom.

She sinks down in the water once she’s sure she’s alone. So much has changed in such a short time and she’s still not sure if this is all real. These people…they could change any moment. Drag her from this huge room and throw her into a prison cell and use her for whatever they pleased.

Turning in the water she pushed herself towards the other end of the tub, the one that waterfalls over the edge. What she sees there takes her breath away, an audible gasp leaving her lips.

The first thing she notices is all the lights, it looked exactly like the painting she saw with Morrigan. There was so much to look at. But what she really wanted to see was the beautiful sight above that. The night sky. The thousands of stars twinkling above, surrounding a bright moon.

She could have cried looking at the sight. But not because she felt sad, she felt safe. Comfortable. Content. Like this was where she was meant to be.

Eventually she did get out of the bath, drying herself off with the fluffy white towel that was unnaturally warm. She stopped in front of the mirror, surprised at her own reflection. She looked so different from the last time she actually saw herself. Her skin that was once a golden caramel color was lighter and ashen, dark circles under her green eyes. Her white hair slicked back with water was thinner than when it used to fall in thick ringlets as a girl. Her rib cage and hip bones protruding in a way they always had but wished they hadn’t. She had wanted a thicker, fuller body like the girls she saw at the pleasure houses. A strong body like her mothers used to be. A body that could hold up her wings and maybe one day…fly.

She had gotten dressed before Nuala and Cerridwen returned. The clothes weren’t like anything she’d ever worn before. Cream colored pants that were lined with a fuzzy material that was softer than anything she’d ever worn before. The top was a matching cream, flowy top with sleeves that stopped at her elbows and buttoned up the back to accommodate her wings. The shoes were white, flat and slipped on her feet easily.

She chose not to attend dinner that night. She wasn’t sure she could stomach any food. The twins looked disappointed. Her decision had been made to gauge how she would be treated if she didn’t have dinner with this high lord male.

She didn’t leave her room the following day either.

Or the day after that.

No one bothered her. No one came to drag her from the room kicking and screaming. No one beat on the door or called her horrible names. No one held her down or forced the food into her mouth. In fact no one except Nuala and Cerridwen came to her room at all.

And when they came they would bring a small tray of food, she only ever drank the tea and ate the biscuit and left everything else. She didn’t want to take too much before knowing if she was expected to do something in return.

When she finally felt safe enough she agreed to dinner on her fourth night. Nuala bathed her again. She couldn’t help the panic that overcame her once again as the female washed her hair but she cooed at her, soothingly before getting up and leaving her to finish alone as she had the first night.

Cerridwen took on fixing her hair, drying and styling it into waves that fell over her shoulders. Once she was done and dressed Nuala put a cream on her face and spritzed her with something that smelled sweet.

When they were done she felt like a different person. She felt clean. Comfortable. Alive.

There wasn’t much time to dwell on her feelings of finally leaving the room before Nuala and Cerridwen pulled her up and escorted her down the maze of hallways.

“Just two doors down, you’ll find the dining room,” Cerridwen pointed down the hall with a small smile. Cassandra wanted to ask why they weren’t also joining but when she turned to face them they were just gone as if they disappeared into thin air.

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Walking into the dining room was a weird feeling. Cassandra didn’t feel like she belonged there. In the fancy room, with a huge table filled with foods…foods she had never seen before. The four people she had met three days ago—and another she hadn’t met, all sat around the table talking in hushed whispers.

Azriel was the first to look over. His eyes met hers and offered her a small smile. “Cassandra,” his deep voice greeted.

“I’m glad you decided to join us this evening, please come sit,” Rhysand said, standing and motioning to the empty seat next to him, where Azriel would be on her other side—Morrigan in front of her and Cassian next to her. The other female at the opposite end of the table from Rhysand.

Cassandra hesitated for only a moment before walking over and realizing that the chair was designed to accommodate wings. She wouldn’t have to sit at some weird angle to be comfortable. Her eyes meet Azriel’s, the gentle look on his face a comfort she needed. He stood from his spot, sliding the chair out and gesturing for her to sit.

She felt eyes on her as she scanned all of the food in front of her. She had never seen so much food.

“I trust everything went okay the last few days?” Rhysand asked as he took his own seat once again.

“I freaked out a little when Nuala was washing my hair…” Cassandra admitted, shoulders hunching in embarrassment.

“That’s okay, no need to be upset. You’ve been through a lot, it’s expected. Nuala and Cerridwen are understanding and won’t hold it against you. You have my word on that.”

She wanted to say thank you again but didn’t feel it was appropriate. She didn’t know what else to say so she nodded her head and looked towards that other female, freezing as she looked into glowing silver eyes. She had never seen anything so…beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

A snort to her side caught her attention and she looked at Rhysand.

“Sorry, I just heard that,” Rhysand said, Cassandra’s eyebrows pulled together before realization dawned on her. The comment about the other female… “Amren.” Rhys supply’s the name.

She looks back to the female, to those eyes that make her not want to look away.

“Hello, girl,” She greets, and it’s not a terrifying rumble, but a genuine greeting.

Cassandra offers a small smile, feeling a draw to the small female. No one else spoke so she reached for a plate but before her fingers could even graze it, it filled with food before her eyes. She blinked at it in shock, looking to Rhysand to see if he had done it.

There was a small smile on his lips as he shook his head.

“The house is enchanted, it does what it pleases. You wanted food so it filled your plate for you,” Azriel spoke, she looked over at him then back at the plate.

Oh, wow. She thought…the food had even been diced into smaller pieces as she had told Rhysand. Her eyes fell on the wine glass in front of her—she wouldn’t drink it, couldn’t, so she looked at Azriel again then around the room. Water. And just like that, a glass of water appeared in front of her.

Cassandra felt the corners of her mouth twitch up, eyes meeting Azriel’s again then Rhysands before she grabbed the glass of water.

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“It’s pretty awesome, right?” Cassian spoke, his long hair that had been pulled back earlier now fell to his shoulders.

Cassandra nodded in answer, sitting her glass back on the table. Rhys took his seat, grabbing his wine glass, silently observing the female as she reached for her fork.

“I’ve never had this much food before…”

Rhys isn’t surprised but he’s not expecting the words and they make his heart hurt.

“Eat as much as you’d like,” Rhys says warmly, watching as she scoops up some warm potatoes and brings them to her lips.

“Mm” she hums, eyes closing. “That’s so good!” Rhys doesn’t answer, he can tell she’s not speaking to him consciously, she’s just thinking, not a single mental shield to protect her fragile mind.

It’s the next bite that wipes the small mine from all the faces. No longer an exploratory bite but a ravenous one. One after another, eating quickly and without restraint. Eating in a way that meant she had been starving, had never had an adequate food supply, had never been allowed to eat more than what was given.

She didn’t speak and neither did they. None of them would tell her to stop or slow down, all having been there at some point in their lives. They had all known that hunger at one point or another. So they let her eat. And drink. And eat some more.

Potatoes. Greens. Fruit. Meat. Bread. A plate appeared next to her holding a slice of cake and she ate that too—she had never had cake before but no one else at the table knew that.

It’s only when her plate is empty that anyone speaks up. It’s Cassian that asks, “How do you feel you’re settling in?” It’s an attempt to bring about a conversation without making her uncomfortable.

Cassandra takes a slow sip of water, breathing deeply as she does before looking at Rhysand who nods in confirmation that he’ll give her answer.

“Honestly…I feel more comfortable here than I have ever felt anywhere else.”

“That’s wonderful! We want you to be as comfortable as possible,” Morrigan chimes in, excited as if she’d been waiting to talk to Cassandra for the past three days. “When we didn’t see you for three days we were worried—well I was. The boys wanted to give you some space.”

“I didn’t know what was expected of me,” she says, Rhysand repeats her and she’s met with confused frowns. “That’s why I stayed away, didn’t eat much. I didn’t know if anything would be…expected of me in return if I did.”

“You have no debt to us, Cassandra. Nothing is expected of you,” Rhysand speaks, his voice firm but gentle. “If you wish to come to dinner you eat your fill until you’re satisfied. If you need clothes you wear what you like and it’s yours to keep. Nothing will ever be taken or held against you as punishment of any kind.”

Cassandra blinks at him, feels the wetness in her eyes as she nods. There’s just one nagging question in her mind, one she needs an answer to before she gets too comfortable.

“Why am I here then?” She asks, setting her fork down on a freshly filled plate, half as full as before.

Rhysand lets out a sigh before telling the others what she’d asked.

“You are here because I received word from one of Azriel’s spies—I’ll give you a more in depth explanation on what that means at another time—that pleasure houses in my court were buying and selling females against their will,” Rhysand begins to explain. “See we have many pleasure houses in Velaris but it has always been law that consent is the main requirement for anyone involved. Those who work or visit have to be there because they want to be there.”

“So, when we got word this law had been broken, Rhys sent us out to patrol the pleasure houses,” Azriel said, drawing her attention to him, “he needed solid proof of the law being broken before he could step in. Cassian and I, we saw you there. Scared. Frightened. Clearly not there of your own free will and didn’t feel it was safe for you to stay there.”

Cassandra looked at him, taking in the shadows swirling around him. His kind hazel eyes, the blue siphons glowing on his scarred hands. Remembered how when her eyes first landed on him on the other side of those bars she had been absolutely terrified of him.

“What about the…Mistress?” She asked turning away from Azriel to look at Rhysand.

“You no longer have to call her mistress, her name is Kamari. She is still here in our cells, she’s not been harmed. We are working to gather some intel from her. Who her bosses are, where they are buying the females and any other information we can get from her. She’s been cooperative in giving us the information we need to stop this from happening to any other females,” Rhysand said, eying the female in front of him before looking to his second in command.

“Do you have any information that may help us, girl? Anything we could use against that female to get more information?” Amren asks, fixing her smoky eyes on the female.

Cassandra was quiet for a moment, thinking. Trying to piece together everything she could remember. She looks up and nods her head. Everyone seemed to sit a little straighter, their full attention on her alone.

“My father is the one who sold me to a male named Vale. Blue skin, a long deep scar across his face, black eyes…mean and very strong—”

Rhysand hold his hand up, relaying the information to Azriel and you watch curiously as one of his shadows darts away and out of a window.

“Cassandra, do you mind if I open up a channel for everyone to hear what you say to me? It will help us find these people,” Rhysand asks, she doesn’t need to think before she nodded. She wanted to help in any way she could. Help any girls going through what she did and stopping more from going through it.

“Please, continue,” Rhysand encouraged.

“The male, Vale, had bought other females. He kept me me in a dark room under his home with three other females. He—he raped one of the girls many time but not me or the other two girls. He said he would get more money for us if we stayed…untouched.” Cassandra’s stomach rolled at the memories. Nauseated, remembering the cries of that poor girl every time that man came down stairs and hurt her. She could see the anger in the eyes that surrounded her, could practically feel it radiating from them. Their fists and jaws clenched tightly, wings rigid and shoulders taunt. But she continued.

“I stayed there for a few months before he took me to that…pleasure house? I’m not sure what happened to the other girls. I think he may have kept the one he raped.”

“Do you know their names?” Cassian asks and she’s nods. How could she ever forget them?

“Seera, Juno and Neema. I believe Seera and Juno were sister but I’m not completely sure. We tried not to talk too much because it made the male very angry,” She took a deep breath, trying not to remember the time he had nearly crushed her throat for merely asking to use the bathroom.

Unbeknownst to her she had sent that mental image to them who were seething with anger at what this poor girl had gone through.

“Once I was at that place I was introduced to Miss—I was introduced to Kamari,” She continued, needing to get away from the memories of that male. “She was in charge of my training. She stripped me naked, told me I would never own a pair of clothes again. That I was to be naked and ready for any male to take me whenever they pleased. I was to learn things that would…please these males. Anytime I refused I was beaten. So, for months I watched other females pleasure males in many ways. But only watched. They said—she said I would be sold for a lot of money for being untouched. That whoever paid the most could do whatever they wanted to me. When I saw the two of you I thought—” She swallowed thickly eyes shooting between Azriel and Cassian. “I though you were going to—”

Her voice cracks and she looks away. Morrigan pushes out of her chair, walking around the table. “Can I hug you?” She asks.

All Cassandra can do is nod letting Morrigan wrap strong arms around her. Hugging her tightly. Holding her in a way that reminded her of her mother before she died. After a moment Morrigan pulls away offering a napkin to wipe her eyes.

“Cassandra, dear, we can be done for today if it’s too much to continue,” Rhysand offers gently.

She nods gently, feeling as if maybe she wasn’t much help at all. The rest of dinner is spent in silence, Cassandra hunched into herself while the other four fae think about killing everyone who hurt this innocent girl and many more.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

It’s later that evening when Cassandra slips from her room. The stone floor is cold under her feet and the satin nightgown doesn’t do much to keep the cold from her skin so she tucks her wings around her body.

She makes her way to the roof of the house, a training area the twins had told her was up here—they had also told her it was the best place to view the stars.

It’s a breathtaking sight. The wind whips her hair around as she walks to the edge. The lively city sparkling below while the endless sky shines above. Beautiful. She sighs gazing at the sight of the silver moon and tapestry of stars.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up here at this time,” Cassandra spins around, sighing in relief when she spotted Azriel, she hadn’t heard him come out at all.

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep. I always loved looking at the stars,” She said, grateful Rhys had made it to where she could communicate—at least with the few people here.

Azriel gives her a lopsided smile that makes her heart stutter. “No need to apologize, that's why I’m out here too. The night sky has always been…soothing.”

She turns back to the ledge as he walks closer.

“You know, my father he was ashamed to have children with wings,” Cassandra said, as Azriel watched her from the side, her white hair shining in the moonlight—those green eyes glowing again. “He kept us locked away, and didn't want anyone to see us. My mother had her wings taken when she was a teenager. She said normally they just clipped them but her father was especially cruel and completely took hers away. Well, when my father was drunk enough or didn’t come home some evening my mother would bring us out and let us look at the stars, she taught us the constellations. And I got to see Starfall with her only one time before she died. It was…the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. After she died I never saw the stars again—not until the night you and Cassian took me away from that horrible place.”

Azriel did his best to simmer his anger, to clutch his shadows tightly that so badly wanted to reach out and comfort the female—to wipe away the glistening tears on her cheeks. She looks over at him then and he looks up at the sky so as not to reach out for her.

“Your mother seems like a lovely woman,” He says, hoping the opportunity to talk about her mother may make her feel better.

The smile that came over her face wasn’t what he was expecting. The way it lit up her face had his shadows singing in his ear. Beautiful. She’s beautiful.

She wiped her cheeks with one hand and nodded.

“She was amazing. She tried to protect us from him but she was just as afraid of him as we were. She didn’t know how to get out. But she took care of us. She was still young when she died—he says she died from taking some kind of herbs, that she took her own life. But I—I always believed he did it.” Azriel took in a shuttery breath.

“I’m sorry,” He said, struggling to find the words to comfort her.

“Me, too. I wish I could have protected her the way she protected me. But now she’s up there with the stars looking over us. Watching me, I think she would be happy I got out. I just hope I can help protect someone else the way I should have protected her.” She folded her arms across her chest and turned away from the ledge. “I think I’ll try to get some sleep. Goodnight, Azriel.”

Azriel watched her walk away. Night gown blowing in the wind, the beautiful broken girl disappearing into the shadows.

tag list: @aelinwya @starlightandsouls @fullmoon-94 @aetherl0l @caticorn61 @lilah-asteria @blackgirlmagicforever @div94

#Cassandra my sweet girl #she’s trying her best #slow burn #slow burn but as you can tell Azriel’s catching the feels #I don’t want to rush things though baby Cassandra has a lot to process and heal from #I think it may be a he fell first she fell harder deal #Azriel’s gonna do everything in his power to protect her they’re gonna be best friends too #found family is the best trope btw #acotar #azriel #azriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction

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windsweptinred · 2 months

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Hob's kettle really doesn't get the credit it deserves for being his unfailing wingman in Dreamling fics.

#I'm revisiting some of my favorites fics #old school Dreamling #From the 2022s #And noticing a pattern #That kettle has been the reason for hella lot of slow burn acceleration #The moment that kettle goes on #You know it's gonna be ok #dreamling #Windswept ramblings

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cannedpickledpeaches · 2 months

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Insert Your Name (1)

Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to part two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve!

Notes and TW: I wanted to write something that simultaneously includes some fun Jade moments as well as my own thoughts on some tropes. This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!

You’ve known the truth for a while—that this world exists inside a story. This is a world that revolves around a nameless, faceless, flawless main character. This entire world around you exists to serve one purpose: to present trials to the main character until she eventually finds a happy ending with her one and only. This world is created for “(Y/N).”

You are Friend A. Friend A is a foolish girl who puts (Y/N) into a dangerous situation, involving her with the mafia. (Y/N) is saved by a tall, dark, and brooding man who turns out to be a mafia boss. They will face dangers in the underworld until all threats are eliminated, and then they will live out the rest of their lives in blissful peace as though they are good people. Friend A is never mentioned again after page two.

You are Friend A. You are aware of that.

So why don’t you break out of your role in this story? Why should you play your part instead of using this knowledge to change the flow of the plot?

Simply because the plot is beneficial to you.

You are Friend A. You are a core member of the Leech Mafia. When (Y/N) enters the mafia, her actions flick the first domino of a long chain of events, eventually leading to the prosperity of the Leech family and expanding their influence. Because no matter what, this story caters to (Y/N)’s livelihood.

And why should you interfere with something that will eventually pay out big for you?

There she is now, coming down the street with a smile. Her indistinct hair is in a messy bun that she always throws together in seconds. Her pants emphasize her incredibly tiny waist, and her eyes sparkle with the light of constellations when she sees you. A light blush dusts her cheeks even though she doesn’t wear makeup, and she passes all the people captivated by her on the sidewalk, oblivious to their stares, because she doesn’t believe in her innate beauty and charisma—the beauty and charisma that the story says she has.

“Oh, there you are!” Her voice, clear and sweet, rings out to you. You wave back, just as you are supposed to. “You said you wanted to get sweets from the bakery that just opened, right? I’m so excited. I love sweets! I saved up some money just for this.”

A dialogue line full of exposition. You nod and lead the way.

“Have you seen their Magicam posts? The cakes are so pretty.”

Her giggles chime like bells. “I think the strawberry one is the cutest!”

Your small talk has little to no substance. It exists only to pass the time. To be honest, you don’t mind. If this were any normal day, you would have enjoyed this. You would have visited that bakery with (Y/N), gone home with a strawberry tart, checked up on the ledgers for the mafia, and slept while fed and content. But today is the inciting incident of the story, and you have your part to play.

A dark alleyway is where these things always take place in stories. Four men smoking and muttering ominously to themselves lean against a brick wall, hidden in shadow. Their eyes follow your every step. You make sure to walk on the outside of the sidewalk so that (Y/N) passes by the alley. As expected, their hands shoot out and grab her arm.

“Hey, you there.” One of the thugs licks his chops. “Got a minute to spare, pretty thing?”

Generic “bad guy” dialogue. Of course, he’s talking to (Y/N). You don’t need to do anything yet except make sure the pieces are in place. A flutter of black fabric in the corner of your vision assures you that the main lead is ready and waiting.

“Get your hands off me!” (Y/N) struggles against his much stronger grip to no avail. The men pull us into the alleyway and corner us against a dumpster. Tasteful.

“Don’t be so harsh.” Another thug whose voice scrapes like glass shards to the ears grabs your shoulder. You don’t shrug him off. Right now, your role is to lay low and let the main character shine. “We just wanna show you a good time.”

“You can fuck right off! And don’t touch my friend.” (Y/N) shows off her generically headstrong personality now. She probably thinks that she should protect you. You are Friend A, without any special characteristics, a piece of cannon fodder that cannot do anything on your own. Even though (Y/N) doesn’t consciously think that way, this is how she perceives the world. She is not wrong for doing so—she’s being sweet, in the way that she is designed to be.

You don’t have anything to do while she shoots off her scathing remarks, so you take your time to observe the thugs. Just as the story you read describes, these men come from an easily identifiable rival mafia. All four have a tattoo of a handsaw on their bodies—the symbol of the Carpenter Mafia, the current major group in the Queendom of Roses. Common soldiers, no doubt. Not anyone of importance . . . yet.

Thug Number One brings your attention back to the conversation by yanking on your hair. It hurts a little. Irritating, but you can bear with it. (Y/N) looks outraged.

“How about this? Since you’re so determined to save your friend, I’ll let her go if you give yourself to us.” He continues with his harassment by grabbing your cheeks with his grimy fingers. You inhale deeply and immediately regret it due to the smell of his breath. Your mind urges you to refrain from giving him a nice fist to the face. Not just from his treatment of you, but also from his gross proposition to (Y/N). Despite your respective roles in this story, she is still your friend. Hearing him throw those slimy words at her leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

(Y/N) puts up a struggle. “I won’t give you anything!”

“Do you think you’re in a position to make demands?”

She hesitates, looking at you with conflicting emotions warring on her features. Takes a deep breath, just as the story says she would. Then, with a wavering voice and a tough façade, she agrees.

You take your cue to run from the alleyway, abandoning her the way Friend A is meant to do. You don’t have to worry. After all, the thugs won’t be able to do anything before the male lead steps in and saves her.

There isn’t much time to waste until you get an update on the story. You hail a taxi to a neighbourhood by the sea. You tip the driver handsomely, bid him a good day, then walk another block before arriving at a mansion. There’s nobody here to greet you except the security guards at the front gates.

You scan the trees. Looks like he’s in a good mood. When he’s upset, he doesn’t usually climb. He hasn’t noticed you yet—his back is turned, his head buried in a particularly thick patch of leaves, and you’re downwind.

“Floyd!”

He turns so suddenly that you’re worried he’ll get whiplash. A grin lights up his face, and without a single reservation, he jumps right off the tree and lands smoothly on your side of the fence surrounding one of the Leeches' many properties. The sun shines across his handsome, sharp features. Of course, the twin brother of the male lead must be gorgeous in accordance with the axioms that govern this world.

“Handfish, how was it? Did Jade meet her?” Even though you are Friend A in this story, to Floyd, you are just his friend. He hasn’t given you a generic nickname like the “minnows” that he calls the family’s soldiers and staff. To him, you are an individual who is interesting enough to grant a personal nickname. Even if that nickname is “Red Handfish.”

“Yeah, he did. I saw his blazer.” You think back to the black fabric you saw before entering the alley. “I bet he’s doing the whole ‘I can’t let you live’ conversation with her.”

In the story, one of the thugs reveals Jade’s identity as a mafia boss in front of (Y/N) before he passes out. How a common foot soldier of the Carpenter mafia can recognize Jade, whose face is kept classified from lower-ranked members of the underworld, is worrying enough to warrant investigation. This could simply be a result of poor writing from the original plot, but you are also an example of the original story’s loose ends. If someone like you, who was meant to disappear after page two, can still have any significance and will instead of vaporizing immediately after you left that alley, then you can’t be too careful.

“Bet he’s being real smooth with it.” Floyd cackles, his raspy laugh reminding you of a chain smoker after five consecutive packs. “She’s gonna fall for it hook, line, and sinker.”

“Of course. We’re talking about Jade.” Even under regular circumstances, he’s charming enough to lure any poor, unsuspecting fool to their demise. “They’re going to come here any minute now. Let’s go inside.”

You pass the security guards and enter the Leech property. A perfectly paved ground with colourful stones and not a weed in sight. A marble fountain surrounded by neat, rectangular hedges. And of course, the enormous white mansion with huge double doors, which in turn have proportionally huge fancy glass windows. For (Y/N) to have a “perfect” ending, the world must allow her to escape her current life of scrimping and saving by marrying her into a wealthy family.

“I wonder what the little minnow looks like.” Floyd hums, sauntering into the living room. “I bet she’d break easily if I squeezed real hard, huh?”

“Don’t do that.” The two of you sit on a velvet couch. Floyd’s long limbs sprawl out and take up the majority of the space. You settle on the far end. “And are you going to keep calling her a minnow?”

“Dunno, haven’t met her yet.”

“She’s very pretty. When you meet her, I’m sure you’ll get the feeling that there’s something special about her.”

The story emphasizes how much Floyd adores (Y/N). She is supposed to become a sort of mood stabilizer for him, keeping him consistently happy in her presence. You wonder if that will actually happen. Floyd can and will throw tantrums around people he holds dear. His mood that flips at the drop of the hat seems difficult to stabilize on just affection alone.

He shrugs non-committedly. Just as you’re about to suggest a nickname he could use, your phone buzzes.

Five minutes away. Jade’s text is short and to the point. You stand and stretch, getting ready to play Peeping Tom.

“Remember, don’t say anything about the original plot, okay?” Floyd’s unpredictable nature worries you. You know that your reminder won’t do much if Floyd decides it would be fun to spill the beans anyway, but you can’t help yourself.

“I know, I know.” He frowns and waves you off. Laughing, you move to the room across the hall. He hates being told what to do, but he’s in a good mood right now. It won’t be a problem.

The front door creaks open. Through a crack in the door, you watch Jade carry (Y/N) in his arms like a princess and set her down on the couch. Smooth, easy, efficient, the way he likes to do everything. Even though you know he is acting, his movements, the soft look in his eyes, are almost believable to you. And you’ve known him for fifteen years. There’s an odd stirring in your chest. Guilt? Envy? You tamp it down.

For a fraction of a second, you swear you make eye contact with him. If he notices you, he doesn’t show it. He seems to redouble his efforts on acting sweet to (Y/N). It might just be your imagination.

Floyd pokes around at the two of them the way he always does when he’s curious about something new. His grating laugh fills the air while Jade bandages a scrape on her knee. Good, the scene is going exactly as described in the story. (Y/N)’s first colourful and memorable experience with her future family. Her new family must be fun, rich, kind to her, and love her unconditionally no matter the circumstances. Her new family has to be better in every way compared to her current one—a mother who passed away at childbirth and a scummy father who neglects her. For an author, these are simply lazy ways to give her a tragic backstory and simultaneously pretend her parents don’t exist for the rest of the story because they don’t add to the romance.

How horrible. How could a late mother and neglectful father not affect a person? How could they simply be written off as another thing the male lead “saves” her from? And for that matter, how can the author casually write in a scene where she is cornered by adult men who are physically far stronger than her, who harass her and make disgusting comments, just so she can meet the male lead? How can they just pretend that won’t lead to any trauma?

You know firsthand how (Y/N) lives her life, because despite the story labeling you as the disposable Friend A, you genuinely have been her friend for the past year. You’ve seen her live on plain rice porridge for days to cut grocery costs. You’ve seen her wear clothes until they are threads because she can’t afford to buy new ones. Oh, but isn’t it wonderful that she’s skinny and looks good in everything?

What a load of bullshit.

#disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader #twst fanfic #floyd leech #twst jade #(y/n)'s the main character but you aren't her #slow burn #you're gonna have to read some plot #before you get to the fluff #this is actually just my excuse to write something sort of meta

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twinstxrs · 4 months

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there’s something so personal about the scene in fantasy high s1e7 where gorgug calls himself stupid & fabian, who up to that point had basically entirely been acting like the bad kids (especially gorgug) were beneath him & had also been the one calling ragh stupid two lines ago, instantly says “okay, do not put yourself down like that. don’t you dare do that to yourself.” like it was obvious he liked the bad kids at that point but the instinct to protect his friends manifesting as an immediate strong refusal of gorgug’s self-deprecating talk kills me. that boy loves his friends so bad oh my god i feel sick.

#fabian seacaster #fantasy high #gorgug thistlespring #these two specifically are so dear to me #top 5 most underrated fh dynamic the girls that get it get it #acts of service (gorgug) meets words of affirmation (fabian)#spring break i believe in you. i hand you an orange. you never hug me / shut up.#THE TENDERNESSSS #it’s about gorgug fixing the hangman & fabian having no idea how to repay him other than saying ‘i’m gonna buy you an orange.’#when fabian a year ago had an insecurity about buying other people things bc he thought they’d just use him for that.#it’s about gorgug’s tin flower that’s tattooed on his arm being both symbolic of his roots & deeply tied to his relationship with fabian #it’s about fabian being the reason gorgug was in that fateful detention in the first place.#& gorgug being the first person to see fabian again in the nightmare forest.#all the bad kids are tied by destiny but god. fabian & gorgug you are so tied by destiny.#anyways i will not lie this far into my tags i expect nothing but in another universe they would be the slow burn of all time. to me.#it is so subtle & casual but there is so much love there it makes me kinda crazy.#but either way my beloveds who i think have helped bring out the best parts of one another but who r also both soooo lame (affectionate).#also i think it’d be funny if a) gorgug was the final bad kid to join the giant family tree via dating fabian #and b) telemaine was eventually gorgug’s grandather in law. can u imagine.#thistlecaster #fabigug #whichever one it is idk idc #they r just so gentle :(#UPDATE sorry i stopped right when this happened to write this whole post & literally like 5 minutes later gorgug has that idea to look at-#zayne’s pearl & his hunch isn’t right but fabian IMMEDIATELY jumps back in with ‘it’s moments like these that prove you’re smart’ GODSDD #when the fabian & gorgug dynamic hits it truly hits. besties/bfs ever i can’t decide they r simply so great

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destinywillowleaf · 6 months

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one of a kind living in a world gone plastic

baby you're so classic

@most-tragic-character-tournament

(all my thoughts in the tags)

#anyway i found their theme song and lost my mind #tragedyshipping #lloyd garmadon #ninjago #antigone #tagamemnon #pollshipping #i'm gonna be thinking about this for the next hour before i go to sleep #i just wanted to make a playlist for them i didn't think i would find a perfect fit #they have taken over many of my braincells and i can't even complain this is the enrichment i needed #all i'm saying is the idea of a movie trailer for these two is taking shape more and more and this should 100% be the accompanying song #not even a full trailer because that would take forever but like. a 30 second TV spot. family drama. them not really getting along at first #(e.g. glaring at each other while being forced to dance or something)#but then warming up to each other on the road because road trips have my soul when it comes to movies ok #i want them to stargaze in the bed of a hotwired pickup truck while on the run from people who demand bloodshed (a poll winner)#the slow(?) burn of not wanting to be in this mess to actually enjoying spending time together to something more #(trailer/commercial ends on or just after “baby you're so classic” with the cut to the title and in theaters date)#maybe most of the tv spot is them arguing and making life hell for one another but it's hard to deny there's something more brewing #(one of the reviews is just ''A modern classic'' because i think i'm funny)#i really want the title to be a play off of them meeting through the tragic tournament but it's completely different from the tone i want #''tragedy: null and void'' is a fun one #i've never been the greatest at titles if they don't hit me like a truck #anyway hi folks i'm sorry if you have no idea what's happening and see this in your tags

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chirpsythismorning · 4 months

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I’m gonna be right there beside milevens cheering if there is leaks about casting for a young male teen, presumed by fans to be Will’s love interest, but for different reasons 😅

#byler #reasons = jealous mike #+#will experiencing mutual attraction with a boy outside of mike #but mostly the gay angst 🤷‍♀️#like i know some fans panic about that sort of thing #but it honestly does not make me feel an oz of concern whatsoever #just the irony of mike finally facing his feelings for will being gobsmacked with a boy showing interest in will #that’s just teen drama 101 #it’s a right of passage for slow burn on mikes end #not to mention #it’s gonna be hilarious seeing milevens take this as evidence against byler #that might actually be the best part #bc I feel like a lot of them are experiencing some major doubts compared to pre s4 #but a leak like that would probably dissipate their doubts #and witnessing that righteousness in real time and the aftermath of it…#priceless #and hey I’m not expecting this person to get a big role bc there’s just no time for that #a few scenes TOPS #IF it even happens bc they said we’re not getting new characters #all I’m saying is #im sat

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amiti-art · 11 months

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ToA Headcanon

At same point during Apollo's trials (or after them) Hera and Leto reconciled.

I think that best moment for that is after Jason's death.

After Hera saw how her husband did nothing to save his own son, her own chosen one. After she saw how little he cared for his life. How when she cried and grived, he sat at his throne unmoved and unbotherd, annoyed by her tears.

How he did nothing when Apollo, his godly son, his fellow Olympian, tried to kill himself so his friends, demigods, could live.

That was Hera's breaking point. When she finally admitted to herself that her anger was always misplaced. It was not her husband's bastard children she should hate but Zeus himself. She always knew that, deep down in her cold, broken heart. But it was easier to go after weak mortal women, nymphs or minor godesses. It was easier to go after defenseless innocent children who didn't asked to be born.

She was always doing that because she could not go against her husband, her king.

The same way Apollo went after cyclops when it was Zeus who killed Asclepius, Apollo's beloved child, because it was easier, safer.

So Hera, heartbroken after Jason's death, haunted by image of Apollo lying on the floor, bleading to death with an arrow in his chest, went to see Leto.

Because Leto would understand her pain as she was also suffering. Because Leto needed comfort as much as Hera did. Because they were friends once, before the Twins were born. Because Hera after over 4000 years finally understood that she had to apologize.

And maybe Leto wasn't ready to forgive her yet, but when she saw queen's pained face she knew that no one could understand her better right now, so she let her stay by her side for moment. One mother greaving the child that was wasn't even hers and one mother who could lost hers at any moment now, both longing for comfort when the father of both sons sat unbotherd on his throne while his childern were suffering and dying.

Maybe I'm giving Hera to much credit here but those 2 scenes she had in ToN are so heartbreaking to me. Come on, how many gods openly cries and mourns for their children? And Jason wasn't even hers. Nor is Apollo, but she was the one to tell everyone to shut tf up when they started to discuss who could become an Olympian in his place after he dies.

#I wrote it as a platonic friendship but it could also be Hera x Leto enemies to lovers slow burn 130k+ words #Hera's gonna be Apollo's stepmother one way or another #hera #apollo #leto #zeus #jason grace #trials of apollo #pjo hoo toa #headcanon #lester papadopoulos #rick riordan #riordanverse #greek gods #apollogists #asclepius #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus

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ohdearlingwhathappened · 4 months

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A Pair Made in the Pits

TFP Megatron x Reader

Summary: A soulmate au where near everyone has the first thing their soulmate says to them marked into their wrist. What a shame Y/n's is in some unknown language. Living with this for 7.5 years, she decides to settle down in Jasper, Nevada, not knowing that being the teacher in charge of the exchange student's overall academics and wellbeing in the school would lead her to being involved with giant robots and finding her soulmate in an unconventional method.

A/n: Sorry for the long summary! This is my first published transformers fic, so please be kind. If there are any inaccuracies, feel free to message me. I hope you enjoy my story!

WC: 2099

Chapter 1: Falling Behind Pt. 1

“Miko! Miko Nakadai!” The woman briskly walks down the hall, after the young exchange student who looked back and groaned in annoyance.

“I know. I know.” As the woman comes to a stop, Miko waves her off, “My grades need work. I need to pay attention in class. I can’t keep drawing on the desks. Can I go now?”

“Very funny, young lady-”

“You’re only ten years older than me- stop calling me that.” She crosses her arms and looks away.

“Miko, you know you were supposed to come by the office to pick up some papers for your host parents.” The woman places a hand on her hip, and raises a brow expectantly, “Any reason for you to skip out on me?”

“There’s a bike.”

“A… bike.”

“Outside!” She rolls her eyes again, throwing her arms up in exasperation. “I saw it from my last class, and I wanted to draw it. It’s gonna be gone if I go to the office and get the papers. You know the desk lady talks for, like, a million years.”

“Mrs. Albert does have a penchant for talking… tell you what- why don’t you go sit on the stairs of the school and draw that bike. I’ll grab the papers and bring them out to you. Just promise to stay on the entrance stairs. Ok?”

The girl whoops and breaks out into a run, excited to be let off the hook of being subject to Mrs. Albert’s stories of her childhood. “Thank you, Y/n!!”

Y/n shakes her head, a soft smile on her lips as she watches after the Japanese girl then makes her way to the office, silently knowing she’ll now be listening to one of the aforementioned talks. The woman was sweet but goodness, she needs to join a bookclub, or something.

“Ah. Y/n, dear! I thought Miko was supposed to be collecting these?”

There, sitting behind the desk, is Mrs. Albert, smiling as brightly as the sun. Her curly gray hair frames her rounded, wrinkled face- giving her the vibe of a grandmother who is about to offer you either butterscotch or one of those little red candies wrapped in those strawberry wrappers. The older woman was just as sweet as she appeared, which made Y/n feel the slightest bit guilty when she would dread one of the long-winded stories, Mrs. Albert never fails to tell.

“Hello Mrs. Albert. I let Miko go off to draw something she saw outside. She was too excited to say no, I’m afraid.” Y/n gave an airy but clipped laugh. “I told her I would bring her the papers for her host parents.”

“You’re too easy on that girl.” Mrs. Albert teasingly chastises, “Though, I guess I can’t blame you. That girl is the first exchange student you’re in charge of, it’s no wonder you’re so lenient with her. It reminds me of how I treated my baby, Samuel. Did I ever tell you about Sammy? He was such a delightful boy. He was heartbroken when he never got his quote…” She teeters off, the solemn look now on her face doesn’t suit her. Y/n had heard this story before, but it isn’t often that it comes up, nor is it often for ‘Sammy’ to be brought up at all. Not that it isn’t understandable as to why.

Quotes- a subject Y/n always loathes hearing about.

The thing about everyone’s quotes is that they link people to each other- your other half, according to many. Most people receive their quotes sometime at 18 years old, a few will get them younger, and even fewer never get them at all. Many times, if a person does not receive their quote, they don’t live for much longer- whether it be due to the societal pressures that they failed to meet, due to no fault of their own; or they have some kind of accident. Long story short, if you don’t get your mark by your 19th birthday, you spend the rest of that year mourning and wondering what will become of you. Not to say everyone without a quote dies, but they are a particularly rare find, that’s for sure.

On top of that source of dread, each quote comes in the native language of wherever your partner is from, so once people get their quote, they are either thrilled and/or they hit the books to understand their other half’s language. Meaning that with the gibberish printed on Y/n’s arm, she’s cursed with the unknown regarding some so-called soulmate.

“I’m sorry, dear. I shouldn’t mention quotes. I know you don’t like talking about them.” Mrs. Albert looks at her, a level of pity swimming in those big, brown eyes behind those glasses she adorns. She pats Y/n’s hand comfortingly, looking at the long sleeves she wears, even in the midst of September in the middle of Jasper, Nevada.

“Don’t worry about it, Mrs. Albert. I’ve been living with my quote for about 7 and a half years now. I’m ok.” Y/n smiles, knowing she didn’t mean any harm. “...About those papers?”

“Oh! Oh, yes. Let me grab those for you, dear.” She jumps up and walks over to one of her filing cabinets and quickly snags one of the multiple files out and hands it over. How she keeps track of where all of those papers are is baffling, but Y/n supposes the years of practice have definitely helped. “Here you are.”

“Thank you.” Y/n keeps up her smile and nods at the older woman. “You have a great rest of your afternoon, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Have a good night, Y/n. And be careful- I’ve heard that those street racers have been causing more trouble recently.” She calls out as the young woman leaves the office.

“I will!”

As she closes the door to the office, the smile on Y/n’s face slowly fades and she takes a deep breath, trying to brush off the snaring emotions surrounding her quote. After another breath, the woman rights herself and begins making her way down the hall, Y/n sifting through the papers in the manila folder, ensuring all of the papers are there. Her progress report and reviews from her teachers didn’t spell out anything good even so early into the year. All subjects but art, music, and english were less than adequate.

I’m going to have to talk to her about her grades again.

“Alright, Miko, I have your papers fo- Miko?” Exiting the front doors, Y/n looks around for her student, only to find her running off down the sidewalk. “Miko!” She takes off after her, cursing herself for not working out more.

This girl is gonna kill me.

Miko finally stops to peek around a corner, and the woman slows to a stop and leans against her own knees, heavy breathing covering up any sounds around her. After a moment of steadying her breath, she looks to the girl on her left, irritated, “Miko, I told you to stay on-”

“Shhh!!”

“You did not just shush me, young lady.” Miko gestures to whatever is so important that she ran over for, revealing a giant robot and a boy. A very familiar boy. “Jack Darby! You get away from that thing this instant!” Y/n yells, making both the teen and robot jump and look to her and Miko’s direction. She runs up to the boy, looking him over for any possible injuries, and pulls him behind her next to Miko.

“What?! He should totally go with!” Miko looks at Y/n, who keeps her eyes on the visibly bothered robot, like she’s crazy, and argues that he should do the opposite.

“Absolutely not! We don’t know what that thing even is!”

“Scrap.” The blue robot looks to Jack and then to the other two, standing up from her previously kneeling position when she had been speaking with the teenage boy, her tone obviously exasperated, “I have to bring all of you with me.”

“Excuse me? I am not going anywhere, and neither are these children. You wanna abduct someone for whatever wacky robot thing you have going on? You leave these children out of it.” Y/n crosses her arms, looking up at the blue and pink being before her, not willing to step down- much to the distaste of said robot.

“I don’t have time for this-” The bot raised her hand to the side of her head with quite possibly one of the most bothered expressions Y/n had ever seen on a human or anything else. “Bee, you need to come back… the kid is fine, but we’ve run into a couple of issues.”

“Did you not hear me? You can’t just-”

“Oh, I heard you, but I can and I will.” Apparently done with what Y/n can only assume was some kind of phone call- that or this was not only a giant robot but a crazy one at that. “I have orders and you’re now part of those orders because you were nosy.”

“We’ll act like we never saw you, not that anyone in their right mind would believe any of us if we told them we saw a giant robot lady that wanted to- what? Take us to some government facility and lock us away because of seeing whatever kind of prototype you are?” Y/n argues back, left hand on her hip and her right pointing up at the mech accusingly, to which the mechanical woman’s jaw falls agape before screwing up, insulted.

“We weren’t made by humans, and you are wasting my time. I have better things to do rather than argue with some woman who’s putting a hitch in today’s plans.”

“Oh, well I’m so-”

A yellow Urbana 500 with black racing stripes drives up behind Miko and Y/n and revs the engine, making the woman jump and the teen whirl around, excited to see yet another possible robot. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Y/n weighs her options. If she tries to take the children with her, it is possible these robots, while they may not have shown any aggressive or violent responses, it couldn’t be confirmed that they wouldn’t, if there was any opposition. The safest option was, unfortunately, to go with the kids and keep them as safe as possible. No matter how much she didn’t like this.

“Ok… alright.” Another deep breath in and out. The kids are what’s important right now. “We’ll come with you, but these kids stay as safe as possible.”

“That was the plan.” The dead tone rings through the alleyway, continuing to irk the only other adult present, but before Y/n could say anything, the metal woman transformed into a motorcycle, having Jack move around her, reluctantly getting on and Miko enthusiastically hops on with absolutely no hesitation. “Get in Bee, and we’ll meet you back at base.”

And then they were gone, leaving Y/n frustrated and clenching her fists with the other vehicle behind her, probably another transforming thing- hopefully with less attitude. Grumbling about the behavior of not only the bot, but the reckless behavior of the children as well, she turns around and awkwardly half-smiles at the yellow and black car- all of the frustration draining out of her.

“I don’t suppose there’s a person in there whose, like, codename is Bee, is there?” The bright lights of the car flick on and off a couple of times before the right side backdoor opens, confirming her fear. Letting out a quiet groan, Y/n walks to the awkward door, hoping there is a human ‘at base’ to help explain what the hell is going on. Getting in, she looks at the empty driver’s seat, then notices hair sticking ever so slightly above the passenger seat. “Oh, thank god. Another person. What is going- How many children exactly are you lot abducting?!”

A series of beeping, whirring, and whistling is the only response Y/n receives from the car’s radio as said child shyly smiles up at her. “Hello. Bee says we aren’t being taken, but someone named Optimus needs to see us after what happened yesterday.”

A moment’s pause settles over the car before Y/n leans back in her seat, rubbing her hands across her face, the car finally beginning to move and quickly pick up speed, “What exactly happened yesterday?”

“Um…”

I would much rather be listening to one of Mrs. Albert’s stories right now.

#slow burn #transformers #fem reader #afab reader #x reader #megatron x reader #tfp megatron #tfp megatron x reader #this is going to be an angst heavy series #I'm sorry in advance #this chapter is part of a sort of introduction to this series #soulmate au #it's gonna be angsty folks #future angst #fanfic writing #transformers x reader #a pair made in the pits

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