#WHOEVER DID THIS DESERVES A PAY RAISE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thatonebrazilian · 1 year

Text

Peace

Summary: How could someone like you ever give her the peace of mind you knew she deserved?

Word count: Around 8700

Warnings: Self-loathing, a little bit of blood and violence, mentions of torture, Weapon Hex!Reader (meaning Reader has both Wanda's and Wolverine's powers).

A/N: First fic after the hiatus. It was cathartic to write this, it felt so different from my usual writing style full off dialog and action. Hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

You met her during a raid. More specifically, you met her as she and the Avengers raided the Hydra base where you have been kept.

At the time you didn't really pay attention to her, even if she was the most beautiful woman you've ever laid eyes upon. Your mind was occupied with the all-consuming fear that paralyzed you, for despite the power that resided in you, you were no warrior. You were a nobody, someone who was taken simply because no one would miss you.

As luck would have it, though, you survived a mix of the most dangerous experiments Hydra has ever made. They called you Weapon Hex, but you were no weapon, you were merely a frightened girl with overwhelming powers.

You had never had much courage, and instead of changing that, your stay at Hydra only reinforced it.

But then, suddenly, your captors were lying motionless on the ground as you crouched down in a corner with your hands covering your head. One of the Avengers tried approaching you, almost as if you were a wild animal. Your reaction was merely instinctual, your magic flared up, throwing whoever got near you to the far side of the lab; your claws came out, and you accidentally stabbed yourself, yelping in pain, feeling your magic explode outwards in response to the well-known stimulus.

"Please, don't hurt me!" You begged, backing up as they tried approaching you again, dragging yourself through the floor as far away from them as you could.

"No one here's gonna hurt you, kid," said the beautiful redhead, raising her hands in a peaceful gesture.

"Nat, back away from her, she's dangerous," said a man with a bow and arrow.

"She's scared, Clint." The woman, Nat, replied.

You didn't know that woman, you didn't know those people, but looking in her eyes you felt safer than you ever did since you were taken.

"What are you doing here?" A blond man asked, taking a step closer.

You tried backing away once again, but your back met another wall. You were cornered.

The redhead reproached the blond man with a single look, making him take a step back, she looked at you then and smiled faintly.

"We're not gonna hurt you, kid, I promise. We just want to understand why you're here," the woman said, taking another step closer. You didn't try to back away this time, but you looked hesitantly at the men behind her.

She understood your hesitance, your fear, so she ordered them to clear the rest of the base, and they promptly obeyed.

"Now," she said, "can you tell me what happened?"

And that's how you found yourself telling her everything from the moment you got taken to where you were now; you told her about every single torture session, every single pinprick.

That was the first time you opened up to Natasha Romanoff.

You were not Avenger material; you knew that, they knew that, and yet, you stayed. Your powers were exceptional, the overwhelming magic, the super strength that could easily rival Captain America's, and the neverending healing that prevented your body from being damaged for more than a couple of seconds. If you didn't learn how to control it, you'd be exposing everyone around you to danger; that's why you stayed, were forced to stay.

They said they weren't keeping you a prisoner, that once you mastered control over your powers you'd be able to leave. In the beginning you didn't really believe it, but then, little by little, they earned your trust.

Steve started training you to control your super strength, and contrary to Hydra training, he never hurt you; quite the opposite really, he talked to you, made jokes and told you about all the times he kicked Hydra ass.

Thor tried helping you with your magic, but that didn't turn out great. Since there was no magic user on the team, hence no one to teach you practical magic, Natasha thought it best to help you master your self control and willpower in general.

Contrary to Steve's lessons, Natasha's were more strict. She didn't make jokes, she talked only when necessary, and glared at you whenever you were too out of it. You found it was a complete opposite of her normal behavior towards you.

For some reason, Natasha Romanoff, the most intimidating member of the Avengers, was soft on you. Maybe it was because you were the only other girl on the team, maybe she pitied you for your cowardice, or maybe she was a bit protective since you were the youngest. Whatever the reason, though, you were grateful for it.

She was troubled, you found. In the dead of the night, she'd trash on her bed, riddled by nightmares, only to wake up startled. You could feel her fears, her nightmares screamed at you from the opposite side of the hall; with your powers, you could feel her every move, hear her every labored breath, almost as if you were by her side.

That was how you found out that she didn't wake up everyday at 4am because she wanted to.

Steve, now one of your best friends, told you they'd run together at 4:45 every single morning, and you had mistakenly thought she did it out of discipline. Truth was, she only did it because she knew she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep.

That's how you found yourself in the kitchen at 4 am, with two mugs of tea ready. You didn't need as much sleep as the average person, what with your body healing itself every few seconds, so you thought, why not?

"What're you doing up at this hour, kid?" Natasha asked, walking into the kitchen.

You shrugged and offered her a mug "I don't really need much sleep, and I thought some tea would be nice".

You were no spy, no actor, but you honestly thought she would buy that little white lie. You realized how foolish that was when you saw her shoulders tense, an expression of anger taking over her face, one you saw many times before, but never directed at you. You could hear her thoughts, she thought you invaded her privacy, and betrayed her trust.

"You know about the nightmares, don't you?" She asked, taking a menacing step towards you.

Your time at the Avengers tower helped you control yourself better, but you were still the same scared, traumatized girl they took in a few months ago, and upon seeing that expression on her face, that threatening stance she took, your automatic response was to take a couple of steps back and use your arms to protect your face for the inevitable blows that would come.

But no blows came, and slowly but surely you lowered your arms, allowing yourself to see the mix of guilt and surprise written on her face.

She took a couple of hesitant steps forward, you didn't back away this time.

"I'm sorry," she said in a low voice, extending her hand slowly towards you, "I'm so sorry."

And then you were in her arms, head tucked in her neck as she embraced you delicately "I'm never gonna hurt you, kid, no matter what."

That was the first time you felt your heart beating erratically because of any emotion other than fear.

You were not emotionally illiterate, you knew what you were feeling most of the time, but the green, ugly feeling that arose in you every time you saw Natasha and Bruce together was somewhat new.

To be honest, you never really had anyone to be jealous of, you never fell in love, you barely had friends, and you and your family were estranged, that was the main reason Hydra took you, actually, because nobody would miss you.

So yeah, when the first person you deeply cared for in such a long time showed so much interest in somebody else, yes, you became jealous.

Weirdly enough, somehow, you managed to become friends with most of the team. You didn't know what they saw in you, you didn't know why they even spared a glance your way, and yet somehow you managed to earn a place in their hearts, which, if you were honest, only made you feel more conflicted as you watched Natasha flirt with Bruce.

They were your friends, for fucks sake, you wanted them to be happy, more than anything, but you couldn't shake the bad feeling growing in the pit of your stomach.

Each time she would laugh at his jokes, each time she would touch his arm, each time he would stare longingly at her, you would just wish them happiness in your head, but the war raging inside your heart told you that you wanted her to look at you that way. You, not him.

The fact that she was so soft with you didn't help matters. Each day at 4:00 a.m. you would have tea together, and each day she would tell you more and more about her past.

She told you about Yelena, Ohio, and the whole mission. She told you some things about the Red Room, although she became a little bit closed off whenever it came to that. It was clear as day how much her past weighed on her, the tenseness of her shoulder gave it away, along with the sleepless nights, the slight paranoia, and the trust issues.

You wished, more than anything, you were able to give her peace of mind somehow, but she was set on achieving it by trying to make up for all the red in her ledger.

Maybe someday you would get the courage to tell her that none of that was her fault, maybe someday you'd tell her that she was the best person you have ever crossed paths with, that she didn't need to make up for anything.

Maybe someday you would outgrow your fears and tell her how you felt.

But then, seeing the way she looks at Bruce and vice versa, maybe that day would never come.

It still amazed you the trust the team put in you, the problem was that you didn't deserve that trust.

On your first mission with them, the moment someone pointed a gun your way you froze. Steve dove in front of you just in time for the bullet to bounce against his shield. After that Clint promptly pulled you away from the action.

During your second mission, they deemed it better to leave you on the sidelines, where there would be fewer people trying to kill you. It didn't work out that well, though, for the moment someone came to you wielding a knife, you panicked and your powers flared out, throwing the enemy so hard their skull bashed open when they landed.

After that, Natasha started training you in physical combat along with your willpower and self-control training. Her focus was on you being able to duck and defend because she knew that if you learned to defend yourself, you would probably be less susceptible to freaking out mid-battle.

On the one hand, you did think it was going to help you during battles, but on the other, having her touch your body so frequently made you feel things. And Natasha didn't make things easy for you, she would come behind you and put her hands on your waist to show you the correct stance, and she would run her hands down your back or your sides each time she wanted to show you a new way to duck or dodge, and she would smile that dazzling smile of hers whenever you did something that made her proud.

"I think you're doing better," she said once, with a soft smile on her face "soon you'll be able to hold your own in the battlefield".

At that you retreated a little into yourself, wondering how such a powerful person as you could be so cowardly and selfish as to avoid fighting even when it meant you could save lives, while someone without any superhuman abilities such as Natasha could risk her own life to save others.

"I don't know, Nat" you said then, "I just don't think this will work. How will I even know what to do? I mean, I've never had the courage to follow up on my convictions, as long as danger was near, but now that I was made into this, danger's always around the corner… They say you attract what you are, and I am dangerous. I'm a danger to all of you."

At that, Natasha walked up to you. You didn't even seem to notice what she was doing, too wrapped up in your head, but then you felt her arms around you and your body instantly relaxed. What you did notice, though, was how she seemed to melt against you.

She was such a brave, strong, selfless person. All you wanted was to be able to make her see that too. You wanted her to feel relaxed most of the time, you wanted her to sleep soundly, and you wanted her mind to be at ease. But how could you, of all people, ever give her peace?

The upcoming missions weren't as bad as you thought they would be. Granted, you were never in the thick of it, you were never in the center field fighting with the others, but you did help from the sidelines, sneaking up on the enemy and making surprise attacks.

Your reaction to having any weapon pointed at you never got much better, though. You would freeze, tremble, and unwillingly blast magic at whoever tried to attack you. At least with Natasha's help, you learned to contain yourself, and there were never any more casualties when you entered the battlefield.

You wish you could say your reaction to seeing her and Bruce flirt got better, but it was stagnant, the green monster of jealousy never failing to show up whenever you'd see them together.

Steve seemed to catch up on that, and he took upon always offering you a way out whenever he realized you saw them flirting. Thus you began spending more time together, and whenever he tried to comfort you you felt a pain in your chest, for Steve reminded you too much of your late brother, the only person in your family that ever stood up for you.

And as you watched his face fall whenever he saw Tony and Pepper together, you realized you were not alone in your suffering.

At least you had each other.

You would never admit to anyone that you welcomed the distraction Ultron's bots gave you at that party. You couldn't handle the way Natasha and Bruce interacted with each other at that bar, and when the robots crashed in, you welcomed the distraction.

But then things started getting so out of control. First with the Maximoff twins, who you have heard of during your time in captivity. You had only heard their names by chance because no one in Hydra would trust you with vital information. You didn't know what their powers were, what they were capable of, or what they looked like. But then the girl used her magic to get into the other's head; she tried to do the same to you, she did, but by then you knew enough about magic to be able to block hers when it came in contact with yours.

The girl was shocked when she realized you had the same sort of magic as her, and then it dawned on her who you were.

"You're the Weapon Hex," she said to herself. You didn't say anything back, didn't have time, because by then her brother had already swooped her away.

You didn't chase after them, though, you turned as fast as you could and ran to where you'd seen Natasha, stagnant as a rock, glassy eyes haunted, staring right through you.

Your fingers touched her temple, and you could feel your magic warring against Wanda's inside her head.

Almost as if you were transported, you could see yourself in a sterile room with a younger Natasha by your side, strapped to a stretcher. She looked at you with no recognition in her eyes, and you didn't know what to do.

When you heard people getting closer to the room you saw a glint of panic in her eyes, so you did the only thing you knew how to do. You hid. And then, when the door opened, you took them by surprise. They weren't fast enough to escape the blinding red light that came at them.

With her captors out, you neared the stretcher, and as gently as you could, you unsheathed your claws and cut the straps holding her down.

This version of Natasha was so much younger than the one you were used to, her eyes were wide as you freed her, her muscles tense as she sat up.

You hesitantly reached for her hand, but she pulled away at the last second. You knelt on the floor, then, and looked into her eyes, trying to show her that in no way, shape or form you intended to assert any type of dominance over her.

"Nat, it's me, Y/N," you said, debating if you should try to reach for her hand again or not. "This is a nightmare, we were at a Hydra base when a witch attacked us. You're not in the Red Room, you're an Avenger, a freaking superhero. You saved a lot of people. You saved me."

She blinked a couple of times, and you saw a flicker of recognition in her eyes.

"Detka?" She asked, looking at your whole face almost as if she was analyzing you. You didn't know what that word meant, but you nodded anyway. You needed her to feel calmer so you could get her out of here.

Her shoulders relaxed a little and she took a deep breath, you reached for her hand again, then, and the moment your fingers touched, blinding red light emanated from them, taking you both to the real world.

You didn't expect the sudden dizziness, though, nor to feel your legs tangling with hers as you both tried to support yourselves on each other. And with a little shriek, you stumbled, landing right above her on the floor.

Natasha sat halfway up then, elbows supporting her, her eyes looking at you with what you could only describe as gratitude.

"Thank you." She practically whispered against your face, nose almost touching yours, making you realize how close you two were.

You got up fast with the excuse of helping the others. You avoided her for the rest of the day, too embarrassed to even look her in the eye.

Clint's farm was a charming place, and you felt a warmth in your chest when you met his family.

His wife, Laura, thought you were a sweet oddball, she took an instant liking to you. Little Lila was ecstatic to see another girl in the group. Upon seeing you for the first time, she asked Natasha if you were a superhero too, and as soon as she heard "She's the strongest superhero you'll ever meet", Lila immediately clang to you like a koala.

On the one hand, you felt a sense of belonging like you never had before, but on the other… it was not safe for any child to be around you, like it or not you were still dangerous, what if you lost control near the kids? What if your claws accidentally stabbed a pregnant Laura?

Overwhelmed by those thoughts, you took the first opportunity to slip outside when no one noticed. You didn't need to stay there at the farm, you could find a place to hide on your own.

As you were stabilizing your magic to fly, Natasha came from the house. You couldn't decipher the look on her face.

"Where are you going?" She asked.

Upon hearing her voice you felt your energy deflate, almost as if she was grounding you to her.

"It's not safe if I stay here," you said.

Natasha crossed her arms and took a couple of steps closer. "So what, you're just going to leave? Find a place to hide on your own?"

You could feel your eyes starting to burn, your shoulders sagging, "What if I hurt them, Nat? Look at me! I am too dangerous to be around children and pregnant women!"

She stopped for a second, almost as if she couldn't believe the words that left your mouth. She shook her head, then, and took a couple more steps towards you, her face showing nothing but understanding.

She hesitatingly extended her hand, almost as if she was wary of touching you.

That, right there, was another reason for you to go. After the whole Wanda fiasco, Natasha seemed hesitant to touch you. Although you two became way closer than before, it wasn't hard to notice her hesitance whenever it came to skin-to-skin contact. And maybe it was petty of you, but sometimes you found yourself wanting to draw away just to give her the physical space she seemed so keen on having.

But right there at that moment, she wanted to touch you, and you couldn't say no. Natasha slowly took your hands in hers, caressing your knuckles with her thumbs.

"You are the gentlest soul that I've ever met, you won't harm Laura or the kids." She said, looking deep into your eyes. "Do you really think Clint would have let you come anywhere near the farm if he thought you were a danger to his family?"

"But there's always the risk… As long as I'm here, there's always the risk of them getting hurt." You said, shaking your head, trying to pull your hands away from her grasp.

Natasha strengthened her hold on you, and with a slight tremble to her body, she pulled you in, embracing you.

"Please, stay, just a bit more… For me." She whispered against your ear, making your resolve crumble.

You melted against her, gripping her shirt in your fists as if she was the only thing keeping you up, tucking your face in her neck as if you wanted to hide from the world.

"For you. I'll stay for you."

"You know… it's been going on for a while." Steve said as the two of you sat on the porch, looking at the trail where Natasha and Bruce were walking together.

"What?" you asked, almost as if coming out of a trance.

"The two of them," Steve said, "it's been going on since before she met you."

You turn to look at him with furrowed brows "Is it? I've never realized…"

"They've been spending more time together in the last couple of months, but they don't seem as close as before." He said "Even if Natasha's been more open to physical touch. Well… she's been more open in general. I think it has something to do with you."

"Has she?" You asked "Because from where I stand, it feels like she's withdrawing from me…" you sighed and shook your head "I mean, we've been spending more time together too, but it's almost like she's afraid of touching me."

"I think she is afraid." Steve said, looking at her in the distance.

"What?" you asked, a crushing feeling settling in your chest "Do you really think she's afraid of me?"

"No, not of you. I think she's afraid you're going to leave." Steve replied.

"Why would she think that?"

"You never wanted this life, Y/N, and we always knew that." He kicked a bit of dirt, refusing to meet your gaze "We made you stay for you to learn how to control your powers… and now you have. After we deal with Ultron, nothing is stopping you from leaving us."

You hung your head, rubbing your temple with one hand as Steve gently patted the other.

"I've got nowhere to go, Steve. My family deserted me after finding out I was bi, the very few friends that I had have probably assumed I'm dead by now, I was living in a shitty apartment and working a minimum wage job. There's nothing for me to go back to." You said, then, raising your head to look at the sky "You're right. I never wanted this, and I've never asked for these powers, but that's not going to change the fact that I have them now and that I could do some good with them. But more than that, you guys became my family. I'd never leave you behind."

A huge smile lit up Steve's face, and he swung an arm over your shoulder, hugging you sideways.

"Well, don't let Tony hear that, otherwise he'll want to throw you a party," he joked "But seriously, Y/N, you're our family too. I'm glad you're staying."

You opened your mouth to reply, but the sound of Laura's voice made you stop.

"There you are!" She said with a mischievous smile on her face, drying her hands on her apron. "Steve, come with me, I need some super strength. Y/N, go get Natasha and Bruce for dinner."

"You do know I have super strength, too, right?" You asked with a lift of your brows.

"Yes, sweetie, but you're also as clumsy as they come. Now, shoo, go get those two idiots." Laura replied, making you laugh out loud.

"Yes ma'am!" You said, getting up and saluting her.

"So bossy," Steve mouthed behind her back. You had to hold back your laughter this time, lest she realize what he did.

You shook your head in amusement and turned around, looking at where Nat and Bruce stood. It could be considered a pretty romantic setting, both of them leaning against the fence, looking at the setting sun.

You really didn't want to go there, you didn't want to see how cozy they felt with each other, you didn't want to witness their mutual affections, but you also didn't want to stress a pregnant woman, so off you went.

They didn't see you approaching, you supposed they were too wrapped up on each other.

"You're the most wonderful woman I've ever met, I care about you too much to ever let you go." You heard Bruce say, your heart feeling heavy at those words.

"You know I find you just as wonderful," Natasha answered, her hand caressing his. "Yeah… Even though I'm a monster," he said barely above a whisper, eyes trained on their hands.

"Hey, there's only one monster in our team, and it's not you." She said, and you froze.

Was she talking about you? You looked at your hands then, seeing the slits from where your claws came out. You remembered the redness of your eyes whenever you were wielding magic, the way the very few serious injuries you'd had during your time with the Avengers healed almost instantly.

Of course she was talking about you, who else would she be talking about?

"That's no excuse, though," Bruce said, shaking his head.

"It's not. I already told you the main reason." Natasha said with a somewhat sad smile. "Bruce, I love-"

You cleared your throat, not wanting to hear her saying those words to him. "Sorry to interrupt," you said, then, not looking either of them in the eyes "but Laura asked me to fetch you for dinner."

Natasha raised a single brow, a smirk on her face. "Fetch us?" She teased.

You still didn't meet her eyes, though. You weren't mad at her for calling you a monster, you really weren't, because how could you be mad at her for telling the truth?

Yet, you knew it'd hurt to look at her right at that moment, so you just nodded, turned around and left.

You didn't make it far, though. Natasha caught up to you, her hand around your wrist. You hesitantly turned to face her, eyes downcast.

"Y/N, what happened?" She asked in a worried tone.

Your eyes landed where your skin was touching hers. It felt so right, but at the same time, so wrong. Natasha was a true hero, a person raised as a weapon, a woman taught naught but evil; lying, deceiving and killing were ingrained in her, and yet she fought against that nature every single day. She was a paragon of goodness.

Her integrity made you feel small and insufficient. It felt so wrong to taint that selflessness of hers with your monstrosity. It felt like you were wasting her honor.

"Detka," she said, hesitating before cupping your face with her other hand, making you look at her.

She had a worried look on her face. You bit your lip. You owed her the truth; of what you had just listened in to, of how you felt.

You didn't want to say it, no, but Natasha deserved nothing but honesty, even if said honesty did irreparable damage to your friendship with her.

You may be a monster on the outside, but there was enough humanity left in you to know that you shouldn't shy away from doing what was right just because it hurt.

"I heard you and Bruce talking…" you said, then, closing your eyes "I knew you were just being nice when you told me I wouldn't hurt Laura or the kids, when you told me I was gentle, but… If you really think I'm a monster, why ask me to stay? Why put yourself and the others in danger?"

A beat of silence. Two. Three.

You opened your eyes and looked at her, and for some reason, Natasha seemed utterly confused.

"What are you talking about?" She asked then.

"You told Bruce there was only one monster in our team." You explained, making her eyes widen a little before a look of pure determination settled on her face.

She gripped your shoulders, then, making you look deep into her eyes.

"Y/N, you are not a monster." She said, her fingers digging into your skin "I wasn't talking about you. I was talking about myself. I told you once and I'll tell you however many times you'll need to understand: You are the best person I have ever crossed paths with. You're just so good. Your heart is pure, you somehow managed to maintain a certain innocence in your soul despite everything that's happened to you. You are not a monster, you could never be one."

You furrowed your brows and gritted your teeth. Your heart did somersaults upon hearing her words, butterflies swarmed your stomach, and yet you felt terribly angry. How dare she talk about herself like that?

Natasha Romanoff was the exact opposite of a monster. She was an angel, a goddess in disguise.

"Why would you say that about yourself?" You asked through gritted teeth "I'd understand if it was about me, because even if you say I'm good, my skeleton is still made of metal, I still have claws, my eyes still turn red and yet I keep on being a fucking coward. But Natasha, despite not having any power whatsoever you still risk your life every single day for people you don't even know. You keep trying to clean up your ledger when you were forced to paint it red in the first place." You said, taking her hands in yours "You're not just any hero, you're my hero. You're the one who made me realize that I could do this, that I could be someone who helps people. You're the one who made me want to stay and become a full-fledged Avenger."

She didn't say anything for a moment, and you thought you went too far, that she'd push you away due to her own realization of your feelings, but then her eyes seemed to water and a smile lit up her face.

Coming to think about it, Steve was right, you never saw her smile as much as she did when she was you, and it made you wonder… maybe you'd never be able to give her the peace she deserves, but you were like a fire and you could keep her brittle heart warm.

"You're staying," she said more to herself than to you, as if there ever was the possibility of you leaving her.

"As long as you'll have me," you told her, then, taking advantage of the small amount of courage that ran through your veins at that moment to take a step towards her, getting rid of most of the distance that separated you and snaking your arms around her.

You were ready to open your mouth and tell her how much she meant to you, to tell her how she made your heart beat faster, how you never felt like someone cared for you like she does, but then your traitor brain recalled the one moment that'd make you pull back.

She was ready to confess her love for Bruce when you interrupted them.

And suddenly the butterflies in your stomach seemed to die, your heart started to ache and your eyes to burn. You couldn't tell her how you felt, you couldn't put that weight on her shoulders. She cared about you too much, she'd be devastated if she knew she was causing you any sort of pain. You couldn't burden her with that.

"Nat, I'm really sorry for interrupting you and Bruce earlier," you told her "and I want you to know that-"

You couldn't finish the sentence with her mouth pressed against yours. Your brain short-circuited, you didn't know what to do, except your body did. You didn't even realize you were opening your mouth to let her in, you didn't realize that your hands were pulling her hips against yours, you were too intoxicated by her to differentiate between up and down.

When her lips parted from yours, a muttered "wow" left your mouth without permission, making Natasha chuckle and bringing you back to the real world, the world where she was about to confess her love for Bruce a couple of minutes ago.

"Nat… what are you doing?" You asked in a small voice as her face got closer to yours again, too afraid to drive her away.

You felt your stomach drop when you saw her body stiffen, the smile on her face slowly dying.

"I thought… I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking, I'm gonna-" She was already turning away, but you caught her wrist with both hands, too afraid to let her go even if you knew you'd never make her stay if she didn't want to.

"I liked it!" You found yourself saying in a sudden bout of courage "A lot. I've been wanting to do that for a while, but you were about to tell Bruce you love him and I don't know what-"

"What?!" She asked, almost as if you had offended her.

"When I came to get the two of you, you were about to confess your love to him… were you not?"

Natasha's eyes searched your face for a while. You didn't know what she was looking for, but whatever it was, she must've found it, because her smile came back as she took a step closer and cupped your cheeks.

"You're right, I was about to confess my love." She said and you closed your eyes for a second, but when Natasha's thumbs started caressing your cheeks, you opened them to see her looking at you with a very familiar glint in her eyes.

"I was about to confess to him how much I love you."

You opened your mouth, but no words came, you were too stunned, not having expected to hear those words.

"What?" You asked then, dumbfounded, barely above a whisper.

"Bruce and I had this unspoken thing before you came along, and the more I spent time with you the more I drew away from him." She said, and to be honest, you never realized that, because your main focus was always her. "He asked me to give us a last chance, and I tried to make it up to him by spending as much time as I could by his side… but what you were about to witness was the moment I finally told him this is not working." She took a deep breath and rested her forehead against yours. "I've been in love with you for months, it wouldn't be fair to any of us if I chose him, knowing that I love you."

You felt tears pooling in your eyes, and your heart was beating erratically, but you never felt as happy as you did at that moment.

You pulled her mouth to yours then, muttering between kisses that you loved her too.

After that, you felt a strange sort of confidence you've never felt before. Maybe it was because little by little you were becoming more courageous, or maybe it was because you knew Natasha would be by your side no matter what.

You didn't change overnight, no, but you didn't shy away from things as much as you did before.

Natasha made you want to be better.

There was no label to what you two had, it was all too new, too fragile. You didn't want to spoil anything. The only thing you knew was that things with her felt… common, mundane, but not in a bad sense, it's just- you could be yourself with her, and she didn't have to put up any walls with you.

Even in the midst of all the hectic dangerous day to day of an Avenger, you still felt at home with her.

Taking down Ultron was a piece of cake compared to having to deal with the Sokovia Accords.

Of course you sided with Steve, and you had to admit it broke your heart a little to see Natasha taking Tony's side, but you couldn't accept being controlled by anyone anymore. You wouldn't.

Tony's side had no chance against you and Wanda together. The two of you immediately became friends after meeting; Vision attributed this instant connection to your powers, both coming from the same source.

It was almost as if you could feel her, and all you felt was sadness and pain. You felt yourself wanting to be a guiding light in the poor witch's life, even if your own was pretty much miserable before the Avengers.

Natasha took it upon herself to help you make Wanda feel at home, and your love for the ex-assassin only grew. You wondered how someone who was taught only evil could be so inherently good.

It didn't take long for Wanda to become one of your best friends, second only to Natasha.

Whenever you and the witch fought together you were unstoppable and, when the time came to fight against half of your new family, it showed.

Rhodes laid half dead on the floor, Vision had a couple of sparks leaving his body as if he was overworking himself, the Spider-Man stood trapped in a magical cage, and Tony's suit got destroyed in the blink of an eye.

The sight of Natasha going against T'Challa, taking a stance on the right side, made your heart swell with both pride and affection.

Of course, things wouldn't be easy in the future, both of you went against the law, and you were officially fugitives, but in your eyes, it was worth it.

You helped Wanda escape with Vision after Steve and Bucky left, and you promptly took Natasha's hand and flew away from the United States.

It was a couple of weeks later when you found yourself in Norway with her, living the quiet life in a trailer.

The quiet life didn't even last a whole night.

You were nervous about sleeping in the same bed as her; the two of you were taking things slow so both of you could learn to navigate each other's trauma and, hopefully, heal together.

The night after her first confession you had decided to ask Natasha why she was drawing away from you so much. You learned of her views on physical touch, and of how she acted when her feelings became too overwhelming. She told you she drew away from you because she was scared of her feelings, as she never felt for someone as much as she felt for you.

For her, physical touch was something superficial, trivial, something she was taught to use as a weapon, as a means of manipulation, so when she found herself so enamored with you she didn't want to sully you with her touch.

It took a while to make Natasha realize that her hands were clean, not a single drop of red in them. She more than made up for all the things she was forced to do when in the Red Room. It took time, but she finally started seeing how she was more than deserving of your touch (which was ironic, for you never felt deserving of hers).

So, yeah, you were nervous about finally spending your first night sleeping in the same bed… that didn't happen, though.

First came the Taskmaster, then Budapest, Yelena, the prison break, and finally Melina. And weirdly enough, her dysfunctional family became a supporting system for you, almost as much as her.

You always knew what Natasha was capable of, but after seeing the Red Room first hand you finally understood why.

Somehow, someway, Dreykov and his Widows found out about you, and more than that, they found out about your relationship with Natasha. Now he didn't want just her, he wanted the two of you.

So there you were, strapped to a chair, with cuffs that somehow inhibited both your magic and your super strength. And as if that wasn't enough, the Taskmaster held a strange gun in her hands, a gun that, according to Dreykov, could bypass your healing factor.

Things seemed dire; you were incapacitated while Natasha couldn't really do anything against Dreykov, nor could she attack the Taskmaster (otherwise Dreykov's gun would be tested for real). But your Natalia was a smart one, thus when Dreykov lost the battle of wills and attacked, Nat acted as if he was actually hurting her, and finally, when he punched her face for the last time, she threw herself to the floor near the chair you were strapped to.

With hands moving almost faster than your eyes could follow, she broke you off of your chains, and in a flurry of movement, she severed her nerve by bashing her head against the chair.

With the two of you free, she flung herself at Dreykov and you used your magic to blast the gun away from the Taskmaster, sending the girl you now knew to be Antonia right through the wall.

With red eyes and unsheathed claws, you used your magic to bind Dreykov's hands and feet apart, making him float midair as Natasha approached him slowly.

"You know, you were all safe, hidden in the dark," Nat said, each menacing step she took made Dreykov's eyes widen a little bit more "but you messed up. I bet you never realized my sister took after me."

Natasha was now face to face with him, her eyes full of a hatred you had never seen before "And as if your own mess up wasn't enough, you had to go and threaten the woman I'm going to marry someday; that's when you painted a big fat target on your sorry back"

You could feel Natasha's satisfaction as she punched him in the face, again and again, and again. She procured a knife then, and buried it in Dreykov's gut with a finality that only came from fulfilling a long, overdue mission.

But then you saw a red beam of light coming straight her way, your eye identified Antonia's gun on the girl's lap, pointing at Nat.

Your body didn't freeze this time, quite the contrary, it moved almost as if on its own accord, not that you'd ever do something different. You've always heard that love was for show, but you loved Natasha Romanoff so much that you'd die for her in secret, with only her's and Antonia's gazes as witnesses to your sacrifice.

You jumped. The bean hit you.

Even if you didn't survive, it would be ok, after all, just the knowledge that Nat loved you as much as you did her was enough to have made life worth living.

Your burial was scheduled in a secluded place, Nat reached out to all the other Avengers, and even the ones who signed the accords declared a truce in honor of your memory.

Steve knelt beside your coffin and cried his eyes out, for you were the sister he never had. Pepper held Tony and he buried his face in her neck in a failed attempt to hide his tears. Yelena petted Natasha's back as the redhead cried hunched over your body.

Nat blamed herself for not being able to break Clint free in time for your farewell, but she couldn't stand seeing your unmoving body anymore. She'd had Melina examine you, then she called in a couple of favors and got you to the best doctors money could buy. No one was able to even tell what had happened to you. Not even Antonia, after she got out of her mind control, could tell what was that ray she blasted you with.

"Nat," said a voice she knew well, but she didn't want to deal with him, she didn't want to talk to anyone.

"I do not know who you are, but now is not a good time" Yelena said with a little bite in her voice.

"My name's Bruce," he said, "I just wanted to say my condolences… When did…" he trailed off, not knowing how to say it.

"It's been a week, give or take," Natasha managed to say, pulling away from your unmoving body.

She gritted her teeth when she saw the frown on Bruce's face, she didn't want to deal with whatever the problem was.

"I'm sorry for being crude, but her body's in perfect condition, shouldn't it be in process of decompos-"

"Are you being serious right now?" Yelena gritted out.

"She's dead, Bruce, we took her to the best doctors." Natasha spat out.

Bruce didn't say anything, he just took out a small switchblade and slashed your skin, making Natasha pull him away and Steve punch him hard enough to make him fly all the way to the lake nearby.

"Holy shit," said Tony, "look at her arm!"

There, in front of their eyes, your skin slowly, very very slowly, knitted itself back together.

"How's it possible her powers persisted if she's dead?" Steve asked.

Tony shook his head "because she's not dead!"

Natasha Romanoff never felt her heart beating as fast as at that moment. You weren't dead. She'd have you back by her side.

You remembered all the nights when you'd hear the sound of tossing and turning, you could practically feel her uneasiness through the walls each night. The nightmares haunted her frequently and at that time you didn't know how to make them stop.

After everything went down, Bruce and Tony managed to find out that the ray basically made your heart stop, but your powers kept your organs alive, according to them you were hibernating. They took a couple of days, but your friends got your heart beating again. Now, after breaking the others from jail and safely evading the police, you and Natasha found yourselves in Norway once again.

See, you expected your first night sharing a bed with Natasha to be somewhat hurtful. You expected to see with your own eyes the extent of her nightmares, you expected not to be able to properly sleep due to the tossing and turning. Turns out you really didn't sleep, not because of her, but because you wanted to be awake, to be able to comfort her just in case.

A part of you found it weird that she didn't show any signs of bad dreams since you imagined that sleeping beside Natasha would be a testament to how haunted she was; you imagined the mumbling, the sweat, and the expression on her face that would show you what you always knew about. Her dreams were haunted by her past.

You imagined she'd twist and turn every night, you imagined you'd use your magic to soothe her.

As the days went by and you saw no sign of her night terrors, sleep came easily to you.

One particular morning she woke up before you, the light of the morning sun filtered through the window and bathed you in sunlight. You were facing her, your eyes closed, your hair a beautiful mess. She knew then and there that she'd never be able to live without you, that if one day you really left her behind, she'd promptly follow you.

You opened your eyes slowly only to see her already awake, looking at you as if she wanted to remember every single detail.

"Hi," you said with a shy smile.

"Hi," she whispered back, beaming at you.

You crept closer to her and tucked your head in her neck, basking in her smell, her warmth. You didn't say anything more, and neither did she, and that brought a lightness in your chest that you could only hope to be replicated in hers. There you two were, relaxed, tranquil, basking in the silence that only comes when two people understand each other, when there's strong enough a bond to form a family. She was your family, and it showed in the way you looked at her, in the way you touched her, in the way you always thought of her first. It showed in the way you interacted with her family, in the way you became thick as thieves with her sister, whom you now see as your own.

But there was just one thing that always bothered you…

"Will it be enough if I can never give you peace?" You asked her then, because you couldn't give her that, and Natasha Romanoff, more than anyone in the world, deserved peace.

"What are you talking about?" She asked, but it was a rhetorical question. You furrowed your brows and pulled back a little to look at her.

"You went through so much, Natasha; more than any other person I know. You, more than anyone, deserve to just be relaxed and not have to look over your shoulder; you deserve to sleep soundlessly and not be hunted down by any nightmare; you deserve not to feel the weight of everything that was forced onto you. I can't give you that." You said then, barely above a whisper, your eyes looking deep into hers. "I can't give you peace."

"Detka," she said, caressing your face, a small smile lighting up her beautiful features, "peace is not something you're normally able to give to other people… but if there's someone that does it for me, it's you".

You couldn't have heard it right, could you? How could you, of all people, offer it to her?

"What?" You asked then, perplexed.

"You helped me with getting my family back, you made me see that I made up for everything I've done under the Red Room's name; With you, I never have to look over my shoulder, I feel relaxed enough because I know you're always going to look out for me; I never have to worry about my enemies getting ahold of you, because you defied death itself; there's also the nightmares, I haven't had a single one since I first slept by your side. And of course, the love. You make me feel loved, truly loved, I've never thought someone could love me so wholly, but you do, and I love you just as much, and our love, in and of itself, it's peace."

You felt tears in your eyes, you felt butterflies in your stomach and bubbles in your chest. "I want to give you my all. Give you my peace, give you my wild… give you a child. I want to live the rest of my life by your side, Natasha Romanoff."

She smiled as she kissed you "Shall I buy the rings, then, my love?"

Turns out you didn't need to know if it'd be enough if you could never bring her peace, because you are her peace.

Natasha Romanoff taglist: @strangegardentaco, @madamevirgo, @Lovelyy-moonlight, @agent99galanzo

#natalia alianovna romanova #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #Natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfiction #Natasha x you #natasha x reader #black widow x you #black widow imagine #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff imagines #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fluff #Taylor swift made me do it #based on a taylor swift song #peace taylor swift

418 notes · View notes

athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 4 months

Text

A Night In Nice

Chapter Two

Based on this ask and made into a separate post due to being two parts

Rated Explicit (for later on)

Ao3

Chapter One | Chapter Three

Dinner is quiet, nothing that bothers you given Norton is similar to a cat who can enjoy sharing a space with you. That is not to say he does not enjoy how you talk about the day or ask him if he likes the food. Given how you like to season the food you make, some of it can be overpowering for him, especially spicy food. The shepherd’s pie is both soft and gentle in the seasoning, something you hope he enjoys (the man though honestly likes anything you make even if one dish had his mouth on fire).

The chores are divided between the two of you depending on who cooks (you are the one who mostly cooks because the last time he cooked he burnt the food). He gathers the dishes and you put away the table mats and wipe down the table. Then you start going over the kitchen pantry seeing what needs to be picked up.

Norton does the dishes, humming something to himself, and you cannot help but stare at the way his arms are defined by his work shirt, a long sleeve he rolled up as he cleaned. When you first met him, he had muscle but it was not compared to how he is now when he is fed properly. The size difference between the two of you has more than once left you blushing like a little girl.

“(Name),” He speaks up once he is done drying the dishes, body turning to see you look at him and then smile, a closed smile to make him aware he has your attention. “I want to ask you something… Important.” Awkward wording that causes your head to tilt to the side.

“Oh?”

“Listen, um,” He takes a breath in and out, “We have been here for three years now and… I uh…”

You look worried.

“Here!” Pulling out the engagement ring and showing you it, “It ain’t much but…Marry me?”

You stare at him then the ring then him again; the emotions on your face shifting too many times then sadness. “Norton… I don't,”

“She doesn't want you, idiot. Why would she want a broken fool like you!?”

“Think I don’t deserve you.” A whisper he hears then the panic on your face as you wave your wave in front of you realizing how bad that sounds, “I mean–”

Huh? What? The former prospector is confused, “What do you mean?” Wait, how don’t you deserve him? Would it not be the other way around? Given all the things you offered him, the biggest one is moving to a whole other country to live with him.

You sigh and gesture for him to sit down and you take a seat before he does, “First: yes. I will marry you. I love you from the moon and back.” Stating to him quickly to ease him, “However, there are some things,” Tapping your fingers on the table, “You should know about me.”

Norton nods as he sits down while placing the ring on the table. “Alright.”

“Okay,” Taking a deep breath in, “Okay.” Fidgeting with your fingers, “I wasn't always a nurse. I had no legal medical license until a year into the job… After the doctor left.” Easy confession, concerning though you are sure.

Norton knew the owner of the mines cut corners as the bastard saw all of the miners as basically slaves. Cut corners wherever the scum could and pay off whoever inspected the worksite. The doctor leaving after not getting a raise, well, no one batted an eye when you were put in charge.

“Before that… Uh. I used to work in…” Growing quiet as you stare at the pattern of wood on the table.

“Did you kill someone?” His arms crossed over his chest, leaning back against the seat causing it to creek in protest, his legs wide open under the table.

“No, no! Nothing like that!” Assuring him, “Listen, I won’t blame you if this changes your view about me. I should have brought it up sooner,” He raises an eyebrow, “I worked in a brothel.” Saying quickly and in one breath. The silence to follow is one side uneasy. His eyes locked on your face. You squirm a bit fearing what he will say.

“That’s it?” Breaking the silence.

“Yes?” Rubbing the back of your neck unsure if he was asking for more detail or something, “ Was one of the pleasure ladies.” Adding more detail, “Not exactly the woman you could bring home, uh.” It was a dark time in your life, you fault no one who had to take up the occupation in order to survive. You had to in order to feed yourself and keep a roof over your head. The nursing came later when your client, the doctor at the mines, was teaching you medicine at the cost of keeping his cock wet. A “fair trade” allowing you to switch occupations, much to his dislike soon after his replacement.

“Why not?”

“Because you should have a ‘nice’ girl.” Rolling your eyes hating that reason. The doctor was an asshole for telling you that all too often when he was making you choke on his— “No mother wants their son to marry a whore.” Sneering in at yourself.

“That’s stupid,” The response surprised you, “None of that is going to change my mind.”

You are shocked, you should not be given how you gave him a second chance at life-- A better one. The second you got him out of that rumble when you nursed him back to health. Technically, you are harboring a murderer, yet you don’t see it like that.

Your eyes fall to the ring. This small town in France is far from everything that happened back in Golden Cave. The voice remains but even with the rambling it currently is saying, it does become greedy towards you. The one thing they can agree on.

“You got experience between the two of us, so what.” Shrugging while he takes your left hand and rubs your ring finger. “When we started living out here, you told me the past is the past. For us to start from scratch and live how we want.” You did. The moment he was healed, you offered to take him with you. Far from everything that ever hurt either of you. “We can’t change what we did to live, we can however change how we live in this moment.” Trying to find the words to convey how much you mean to him, “Us, together, in that church you go to on Sundays and standing at that altar.”

You blink twice then glance away then back at Norton, “Wow.” He is serious. “Ha, wow, ha.” Laughing as leaned against your chair letting out a sigh of relief but the giggling starts up.

“You sound like a hyena.” Teasing you as the giggling gets worse, “Taking it you are happy?”

“Yes, God, yes!” Grabbing his hands with both of yours, “More than happy really! I want to kiss you until I can’t no longer.”

“Oh,” Amusement, “Just kiss?”

“Norton.” Standing up, “There are many things I want to do for you,” Leaning on the table with a look in your eyes he only caught once when you were patching him up. Your hand touching his arm, “Only if you allow me.”

“Shouldn’t that be my line?” Standing up and grabbing the ring before moving around the table to be close to you. “Everything. All of you and all of me.”

#reader insert #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #anon ask #idv prospector #identity v x reader #identity v #idv x you #idv reader insert #idv x reader #idv norton #norton campbell x reader #norton campbell #norton campbell x you

89 notes · View notes

pearlywritings · 2 years

Text

They got it from you

synopsis: envious nobles are at it again, ruining your day with their venomous remarks and making you doubt certain things. What a relief that your family is always ready to make it feel better.

pairing: Diluc x fem!reader, feat your sons

tw: hurt/comfort, bullying, established relationship, fluff, tiny mention of pregnancy

word count: 6.9k+ words

author’s note: @sleep-deprivedracoon you can call me a liar. I know I said I was not going to continue A child of our own anyhow, but here I am, making a whole family AU (yes, here is a separate masterlist for it)

Biggest thanks to @lunargrapejuice who shared my brainrot and gave me an inspiration to write it 💛

Life couldn’t be better. Honestly! You have everything and then some more that fills your every moment with happiness - you have an amazing husband, who is your lover, your support, your dear friend and the person who looks at you like you hold the whole universe in your hands (and you do, whenever you cradle Diluc’s face in your palms). You have two amazing sons - four-year-old twins, sweet and active, polite and respectful, happy and playful, though sometimes borderline mischievous - but they are kids! That is to be expected. You found home in the manor of the winery, where every single member of staff came to love you dearly, always smiling and sounding fondly whenever ‘My Lady’ or ‘Madame’ leaves their lips both in your presence and absence. You have great friends - your close circle of old ones and the ones you befriended after stepping into your now-husband’s circle, the best possible addition being his brother’s family. His wife and daughter adore you and the feeling is wholeheartedly mutual. People of Mondstadt always loved you, but now they love you even more and are always excited to see the whole Ragnvindr family of four members in the city.

Sadly, not all people.

Sure, there is nothing wrong in someone not liking you and not approaching you as a couple of others would. After all, it’s impossible to be loved by everyone, there is no such person in the whole Teyvat. It’s a completely different thing when someone openly despises you.

While Mondstadt is a city of freedom and all people are declared to be equal, there are descendants from the noble families that centuries ago used to be glorified, respected and ruling. Of course, many do not pay attention to it, but there are some that continue exalting the pureness of their blood and going around puffing their chests like some arrogant roosters. To them the likes like you are a thorn in the side. It’s their daughters, cousins, younger sisters, or whoever else, who were deserving of marrying the young master of the Rangvindr bloodline, not… not you!

They blamed late Master Crepus for not being sagacious to establish an arranged marriage contract with any of these families before dying, that way you would’ve never been given the chance to even think of being in his eyesight!

But you not only dared to be there, you became the center of it. They don’t know how could they miss years you two spent dating, but the next moment they knew - you two were happily married. And that’s after all of their attempts to set him up with one of their young female members of the family!

They detest you, they hate your guts, froth at the mouth every single time there is at least the tiniest hint of your shared happiness and affection. Venom fills their words, but they do not dare to utter them in Diluc’s presence of course not. They target you when you are alone.

They already caused you much distress five years ago, when all your mind could do was worrying about the topic of kids. Back then Diluc did make it clear - if anyone has balls to verbally attack his wife, they are welcome to visit the Angel’s Share, where he’ll have a very nice chat with them.

Insults stopped and you could finally breathe freely, concentrating on carrying your child (at that time you had no idea it was going to be two) and then raising up the twins - beautiful brilliant redheads, that quickly became the talk of the town. People adore them, smile and greet them whenever both parents or one of you brings them to the city, give them free treats, rope you or Diluc in any kind of conversation, and admire your pretty babies. There were more times than you can count when Kaeya appeared unexpectedly and stole (saved) you from the never-ending chitchats.

You think that at last, everything is magnificent - Diluc heeds you and really makes attempts to dedicate time to not only you and children but himself too, he takes his walls down even more, now struggling less when discussing with you something that keeps him restless; Rufus and Lucas - your sons - are healthy and content, being nothing but joy to both you and your husband, and everything else is pretty much the same, and that’s really enough for you.

Until a couple of months ago nobles started to express their hatred again.

At first it was very very subtle, and if it was a bystander, they would’ve never guessed the real meaning behind small comments. But very soon it became very clear, but still pretty much bearable.

“Look, it’s this woman again.”

“Ah, yes, her. A greedy gold digger.”

“I don’t understand what our Master Diluc found in her. My cousin is so much prettier!”

“I don’t know about your cousin, but my sweet daughter Lily would’ve looked so much better at his side.”

“Yes, dear, you are right, our daughter would’ve made a much better match for Mr Ragnvindr. If only he gave her a chance at that teaparty…”

And something alike. Statements like this didn’t bother you at all. You know Diluc knows you love him dearly and fondly and care little to how loaded he is (you do handle his budget sometimes, but even then you do not have any inappropriate thoughts, no matter how many times your boyfriend and then husband tried to spoil you). You also know Diluc loves you and wouldn’t dream of marrying anyone else - he makes it very clear with words and more often - actions. And you also know they are just envious of your happiness and blame you for, how do they say “stealing what could never belong to you from them”. You do not treat your husband as an object, maybe that’s why he never looked at your families, you, imbeciles.

However they are determined in their attempts to get under your skin and they resume to the topic that worked before - your children. They used to talk you down for being a bad wife for not giving Master Diluc heirs sooner, such a remarkable and great bloodline must’ve been restored in their opinion. Well, you do have children now, so it won’t work twice.

Now, there are offhandedly thrown comments about how much young Ragnvindrs resemble their father. Yes, yes, gorgeous thick red little manes, just like their father’s, beautiful ruby eyes - surely inherited from their father, their delicate noses and overall face features - one look and you could easily guess their father in them!

Too bad they look nothing like their mother.

Suddenly, to them you even lost your identity as a person. Now you're just a ’Master Diluc’s kids’ mother’. Not your name, not even your family name. Just a function, making it sound like it’s the only thing you can do, contribute to this marriage.

Today was the final straw to your composure. Someone - possibly one of the minions - was brave (and foolish, if you ask me) enough to state you are not even their mother. Your pregnant stomach? Pff, totally fake, just a pillow under your dress. They know the woman - the real mother of Master Diluc’s children - who the owner of Dawn Winery asked to bear his offspring because his wife was just a failure.

You didn’t acknowledge them - the whole group that gathered around the speaker and was snickering and sending dirty glances your way. You, calmly and gracefully, continued your path, smiling and joyfully chatting with vendors on the street, as if those obvious lies weren’t gnawing on your insides and infiltrating your thoughts.

Oh, but it did hurt.

And it hurts still, when you hop off the wagon - one of the winery workers was ready to head back and happily offered a ride home as you were exiting the city gates. Your heart is so heavy and eyes strain from unshed tears - you really didn’t want to worry the sweet elder man, who was so kind to his Lady, and it gets more and more difficult to keep yourself together as you approach the front doors of the manor. Workers and maids greet and wave at you and you try really hard to wave back and give each and every one at least a couple of phrases to have a small talk and show how much you care - because you truly do.

At last, the doors are closed behind you and your back is pressed against them, a shaky exhale leaving your dried mouth. That was surely an exhausting trip - while the conversation with the talkative employee and observing such familiar landscapes served as a distraction, all kinds of thoughts never stopped swirling inside your mind. With eyes closed your brain starts creating images of their twisted expressions and nasty laughter, mocking you for something that is obvious nonsense. Ah, people really can be cruel, but you will be fine. You need just a moment to dispose of these emotions and worries.

Tapping of small feet makes you aware you are not yet in private to let yourself go and you make an effort to push through it for a little bit more, opening your eyes and lovingly staring at two boys running down the stairs, closely followed by your head maid.

“Mama! Mama!” you crouch down and catch them in an embrace, letting out a small grunt when their bodies bump into you at full speed. Two pairs of arms quickly wrap around your neck and each cheek is loudly smooched. A smile appears on your lips and for a moment you forget about your pain and a reason for your sadness, giving each boy a kiss on their noses, to which they erupt in giggles.

“Hello, my little fireflies. How have you been?”

“Good!”

“But we missed you and papa!”

“Oh, but Addie read us a story!”

You glance at Adelinde and the woman only smiles, watching the sight in front of her with a soft emerald gaze.

“Did she? Was it interesting?”

“Yes!”

“Not really…”

You laugh at the pouty expression of the younger twin, guessing it was the older who chose the story this time.

“I am sure the next one will be to your liking, my dear. Right, Adelinde?”

But before she can answer you, the boys unwrap their arms around your neck and instead grab your hands - Rufus has both of his little palms wrapped around your wrist, while Lucas holds just onto your fingers with one hand, the other pointing to the back exit.

“Mom, we don’t wanna read! Come and play with us!”

“Pleaaaaase!”

Going…outside?

As much as you want to give in and let them lead you out to have fun, you understand the desperate need to be alone for some time. Even though everything doesn’t come back crushing onto you all at once, you know it can and desire to prevent such escalation wins.

Your face must’ve fallen, because the twins definitely notice.

“Mama..? Is something wrong..?”

“Do you not… want to play with us?”

You can see that the other woman in the hall is ready to rush and help you, but you can handle it, they are your children, no matter how bitter it sounds in your wounded thoughts right now, and you are their mother, you are the one to bring them comfort.

“Oh, no, no, no, babies. Mama wants to play with you. But,” you stand up from your crouched position carefully, not to rip your hands out of their hold accidentally, “I am very tired right now… I will be very happy to play with you later, after dinner… If my boys don’t mind,” just as carefully you slide your wrist and fingers free and reach to pat the tops of their fluffy heads. Your sons exchange quick glances. You swear, they have some invisible connection between them, as if they can communicate via reading each other’s minds, and it makes you smile a little. The agreement is reached when they look back at you and, though a little bit pouty, nod.

“Of course, mama. We understand, and we will wait for after dinner!”

You can’t help yourself and not poke their round cheeks, effortlessly making them let out the air held there. Boys giggle again, rubbing at the poked spots and jumping a step back to avoid more teasing to come. Straightening up, you give them a small smile.

“Thank you, Rufus, thank you, Lucas. Mama really appreciates it and loves you.”

“We love you too, mama!” The declaration is exclaimed in unison and that’s what plucks the strings of your heart and makes you even more emotional. You make an unspoken vow to yourself, you’ll shower these redheads in so much affection when you feel better.

Twins’ crimson eyes follow your figure slowly walking up the stairs and all the way to the bedroom where you hide behind a heavy door. Something is not right, they can sense it. You rarely call them by their full names, unless they are in trouble, or you speak to someone else about them. The lack of ‘Ru’ and ‘Lu’ spoken in your sweet voice makes them question your behavior. Besides, you looked very gloomy - they are used to seeing something similar on their dad’s face, but not on yours.

So their heads whip into Adelinde’s direction and a second later they are already standing in front of her, craning their necks to look up.

“Addie, is mama sad?”

“Why is she sad?”

“Something happened?”

“Can we help?”

“Will papa be sad too?”

“Yes, papa is always sad, if mama is sad… It’s bad if they are sad!”

“Yes, it’s bad! We wanna help!”

The head maid bends down to tuck some stray locks behind their ears and to gently cup their cheeks, which always effectively makes them fall silent. The woman finds it extremely sweet how willing to make it better these two angels are. But, she is afraid, there is nothing they can do at the moment. Their Lady is known to lighten up everyone else’s mood with her presence - cheerful and kind, the stormy clouds hang above her head very rarely, and there is always a very specific and unpleasant reason behind it. There ought to be some kind of an issue, hard to resolve and that hurt you a good amount, if the pained look in your eyes and your rueful steps were any indicator.

“Listen, boys,” she starts in a smooth voice, making sure every word of hers reaches them and sinks in, “your mother is really tired. Sometimes being tired can cause you feeling upset - low energy and overworking do feel bad. Right now she needs to rest, to regain her strength back, so she can play and spend more time with you, and believe me, she doesn't want anything as much as this. As for your father… I am sure he will be fine. If he doesn’t join us soon I will go and talk to your mother, okay?”

“And…you will tell us everything?” Rufus looks at her hopefully and she gently smiles, caressing his cheek with her thumb.

“Of course. You two will be the first ones to know. And I will tell you right away if your mother asks for you to come pay her company.”

Boys know that Addie never lies, so for now, they are satisfied with her answer, even though they really really want to run right to their parents’ bedroom, crawl onto the bed and cuddle with you. Your warm cuddles always helped them feel better, surely it can work the other way around, right?

But their train of thoughts is interrupted by Adelinde who takes their hands and straightens up.

“So, young masters, what would you like to do meanwhile?” the twins exchange glances again, and then Rufus looks back at her.

“I want another story!”

“But I choose!” the younger tugs the woman’s hand and his brother huffs. Mom and dad say to always share though, and, besides, Lucas’s choices are to his liking sometimes.

“Alright, you choose,” he says instead and his brother beams with happiness. The head maid only chuckles and takes them back to their room, so Lucas could pick another book from the shelf and she - read it to them.

Almost half of an hour passes when Diluc finally opens the door of his study and takes a look outside. The second floor is empty and, upon walking to the varnished wooden railing and glancing down, he notices just a couple of maids dusting around the first floor. How strange, he thinks, combing his fingers through fiery bangs. He can swear he saw you out of the window quite some time ago. Usually, if he’s home and busy you always stop by to greet him and either have a small conversation if he has some time, or just give each other a kiss if he can’t let his attention stray too far from calculations and planning.

Today, however, you didn’t. The twins could be at fault - they have an ability to easily drag any of you into games and other activities, and it is borderline impossible to resist them. Adelinde always teases him, saying that as a child it was the same and his father had a very hard time telling his son ‘no’, but Diluc wholeheartedly believes that these charms they got from you.

Floorboards make no sound as he is making his way to the twins’ room. Twisting the knob the man can indistinctly hear Adelinde’s voice, muffled by the wood, soon becoming clear as the door opens. He sees the maid sitting on a chair, pulled in front of one of the beds, and holding a fairytale book, which she lowers, turning her head in his direction. The boys - Lucas lying on his stomach and swinging legs and Rufus, sitting closely and hugging his knee - immediately perk up when they hear the door open and, while expecting to see their mother, still feel very excited to see the other parent.

“Papa!” the door clicks shut behind him and Diluc moves further into the room. He greets Adelinde and immediately motions for her to not stand up - she is a servant, but a close friend, he doesn’t need any physical display to know she is loyal and respects him.

“Hello, my little flames,” he sits on the edge of the bed and instantly Rufus climbs in his lap, soon followed by his brother. Boys hug him and kiss his cheeks, letting their weight rest in their father’s strong muscular arms - two small bodies are like two feathers for the man who’s overcome years of training and hardships.

Adelinde closes the book and fondly observes the scene in front of her. It brings distant memories of many years ago, when she was just a young maid, who had just recently started working for the Ragnvindr family. Crepus was a good man and he nurtured and cherished his son and then two. He too used to hold a boy in each arm and carry them around like that when they were still young. Those were such good times and she is so glad they are back so many years after. And all thanks to you.

"Papa?" The voice of the younger twin brings Adelinde back from her thoughts. Her young masters finished giving their dad an overview of their day and now are snuggling to his body.

"Yes, Lu?" The man hums, closely observing both boys. Something isn't right. All of a sudden they both became quiet and something seems to be concerning them.

"Mama is sad," Lucas takes a hold of a thick lock of his father's hair and starts braiding it - or at least imitating something similar, twisting the smaller parts of the strand into something very poorly resembling a proper braid.

"Mama is what?" Though he is asking his son, the eyes are directed to Adelinde, who only shrugs her shoulders in unawareness.

"Mama is sad," eventually repeats Rufus, staring at the ruby brooch on Diluc's cravat, which plays in the light magically. "She came home, said she'll play with us after dinner, and went to your room. But she looked like you when you return home sometimes."

To Diluc that was similar to 'when he returns home looking distraught after a failed mission or nuisance that was ruining his whole day'. This is not good.

"Are you sad too?" Lucas is quick to ask, glancing at his face, abandoning attempts to make dad's hair pretty. A small smile appears on the man's usually neutral face and he shakes his head.

"I am not sad, baby. Do not worry, I promise I'll make mama feel better."

"Can we help?" Again said in unison and from the corner of his eye he sees Adelinde trying to hide her wide grin. He understands her though, his kids are adorable and very compassionate. And this they learned from you.

"Not now, loves. I need to talk to her first, and then we'll do it together. She will be really happy to see you, but a little bit later, I promise.”

“But we want to do something!” Rufus crosses his small arms and Lucas is quick to mirror his brother, nodding his head, making the strands of his bangs bounce.

“Yes! Mama always helps us, we wanna help her too!”

Looking at their pouty but determined faces Diluc feels disarmed - there is no length in this world he is not willing to go for his children, but at the same time he understands that your situation must be delicate and should be handled accordingly.

“If I may, I have a suggestion,” all three glance at Adelinde and she puts the book aside. “Lady promised to play with you outside after dinner, right?” the boys nod. “Then why don’t we organize a picnic! It will be both dinner and the funtime and you get to spend it outdoors. I can cook and you can help me. I am sure it’ll cheer your mother up!”

Diluc sighs in relief. Archons, his father was the smartest person to put this amazing woman in a position she’s been holding for two or so decades now. Not to mention, she raised him and Kaeya in a way, so she is irreplaceable in handling two boys at the same time when first-time parents still struggle.

Boys seem to really like the idea, uncrossing their arms and grabbing onto their dad’s shoulders to climb off of him.

“We are gonna help!”

Adelinde stands up and puts the chair in its original place. Diluc remains sitting for a moment, catching Lucas and settling him back down with the boy's back facing him.

“Daaaad!”

“Wait a little bit, Lu, your ponytail is loose,” Lucas doesn’t have any other choice but to watch Rufus show him his tongue and shake his own little mane of flaming hair proudly - the older twin prefers to wear them down. His glee is short-lived though, as Adelinde bends down and starts combing through his wild locks as well.

“We don’t need any hair in food, so let’s tie a ponytail too.”

“But Aaaaddie!”

“No ‘but’s, right, Master?”

Diluc hums, tying black ribbon in Lucas’s hair. Now, as the two stand side by side, it would’ve been hard to tell who is who, if they wore similar clothes. Though, even with different clothes and different hairstyles, they are still constantly confused, which the twins are always happy to use in their favor.

“Addie, come, come! The picnic!”

“Alright, alright, let’s go. We’ll see you soon, Master.”

And by ‘you’ she means both the husband and the wife.

Three careful but steady knocks against the heavy wood of the only barrier that separates him and his own personal paradise of your shared bedroom, the only obstacle that is keeping him away from you.

"My love? Can I come in?"

He strains his ears to hear any sound from the inside - shuffling of blankets, thudding of feet against the floor, rattling of curtain clamps as the thick fabric is moved to reveal the window - anything that would tell him of your state. But there is no such sound. The only thing Diluc hears is your rasped 'come in!' and then you clearing your throat.

Your husband doesn't need to be told twice, and a moment later he pushes the door closed behind him. Ruby eyes take in the room to estimate the severity of your condition. He notices the blankets in a heap on the bed and pillows rearranged - this must've been your improvised shelter for releasing your emotions, abandoned when the purpose was served. He notices the clothes you left in this morning on a chair, - you, most likely, didn't have much energy to hang it in the drawer after changing, and he doesn't blame you for it. Then his focus is on the window, something that has been teasing his peripheral vision. It is not obscured by the drapes and is, in fact, opened ajar, filling the bedroom with warm soft light, enough to not lit the candles just yet. And then, basking in this sunlight, your figure is seated on the armchair, hair just slightly swaying in a small breeze, creating an ethereal image together with the halo of sun rays

You watch as the love of your life loosens his cravat a little and takes a deep breath, before finding his way in front of you. He towers above you, but you do not feel intimidated, looking at him from your sitting position and offering him a meek smile.

“I am sorry I didn’t come to greet you as always… Didn’t want to worry you much, but it seems I did in the end,” a small chuckle and a soft hum when his hand gently cups your cheek, thumb caressing the skin where dried tear streaks were easy to make out in the light.

“Please, don’t apologize,” his voice is deep and soothing and makes your wearied heart flutter. “If you needed a moment for yourself I respect your decision.”

Oh, Celestia must love you. Diluc has his flaws, admittedly (and who doesn’t?), but he makes sure that in your relationship respect and trust are never forgotten, and you greatly appreciate it. Gazing into his eyes, warm as a fireplace on a cold night, fills you with serenity and tranquility, making the photo album in your hands feel less heavy.

Finally Diluc notices it and then a couple more on a windowsill nearby. Seems like you’ve been relishing in some memories and now, when his worries have been a little bit subdued, he is curious.

"Love, stand up for me?"

Nodding, you swiftly lift yourself and take a small step aside, just enough for him to slide into the plush armchair and bring you in his lap. A blissful sigh leaves your chest when you feel the heat of your husband’s body. One arm securely wraps around your waist and you tuck your head under his chin, feeling the other hand resting on your knees right under the book of captured moments of your life.

A comfortable silence settles between you two for a while. You keep turning the pages, eyes traveling over the colorful pictures, and Diluc just holds you, rubbing absent-minded circles on your hip with his thumb and looking in the album over your head.

Diluc gives you a little bit more time and only when you sigh and lower the book he attempts to start a conversation.

“Do you want to talk?” somehow, the question doesn’t fill with dread and the next phrase makes your heart burst with pure joy. “Ru and Lu are worried. They said you looked sad when you arrived and really wanted to make it better.”

“Ah, aren’t our angels the sweetest?” you softly murmur, reaching out to rub at your eye.

“Of course they are. They got that from you.”

From you… But did they really?

After ridding off the pent up emotions with tears, as if guided by some unseen force you took the photo albums out. There are many brilliant pictures that tell your family’s story: starting from the images of your multiple dates, transitioning into dozens from your wedding and then hundreds of your life as spouses and parents. Some were taken by either of you, some - by bystanders, some you got thanks to the winery staff, some were sneaked by Kaeya (those are ones of the most heartfelt, as the man managed to catch Diluc in his softest moments) and some were done by professional photographers. The photos that you needed to see the most were ones of your sons. You spent much more time on those, examining their hair, eyes, facial features and everything else in regard to their appearances, only to come to one simple conclusion - they truly look like carbon copies of their father.

“Luc…” you start with uncertainty, gripping the pages of the newest of the albums. “I wouldn't say I am sad… More like I got overwhelmed and my emotions had better of me. Needed a moment to let it all out not to combust later. I didn’t tell you, because I believed in myself and thought I could withstand it on my own, but the nobles started bothering me again,” you feel his body going stiff and a hand on your knee clench involuntarily. You lift the album and put your palm on top of his, squeezing it. “It wasn’t bad at first, nothing unusual - it was very simple to ignore. But in a couple of months it got worse. Now they openly say nasty things about me. They refer to me as nothing but a 'Master Diluc's kids' mother'! As if I am some kind of a decoration to you, like I am not my own person now! Can you imagine that..?" A deep sigh. "And then they say that I can't even be their mother, because they look nothing like me! I guess,” you gulp, forcing the bubbling emotions back down, “the very notion that someone considers such a possibility offended me and despite my better judgment I couldn’t just disregard it… So yeah,” you show him the pages that are currently open: there are pictures of your boys, one where they chase the crystal flies and the other of them napping on each other on a sofa in the living room. “I just wanted to see if they really do not resemble me at all. I know it’s stupid-”

“No, it isn’t,” you abruptly close your mouth - the firmness of his tone has taken you by surprise.

Diluc didn’t mean to cut you off so harshly, but your words made him feel two things. The first is a total fury - how dare someone to have the guts to speak to or about you like that? Say whatever you’d like about him, but when it comes to you and his kids - it’s a totally different story. The second is a heartbreak - while he doesn’t let pointless words get to him personally and he logically thinks you know he loves you dearly and that Rufus and Lucas are yours, he can see how much those scumbag’s words affected you, and it crushes him to see you weighed down by this.

“None of your concerns is stupid, even though what those…vermins say is an absolute lie,” he brings a hand to your face to gently hold it and smiles when you close your eyes and lean into its warmth. “My flame, our boys are like you too, a lot actually. Maybe not in their looks, but they have so many of your lovely personality qualities that I couldn’t possibly have given them. Look at their wide smiles and ardent gleam in their eyes - they are yours. They definitely share your spirit - which I admire with my whole heart.”

“You really think so..?” you ask quietly, tips of fingers touching the back of his hand, that quickly leaves your cheek and holds onto yours instead.

“Of course, and I know that deep down you believe so too, it just got buried under all of that emotional shambles," Diluc is still not the one to talk a lot, but if it is you, he has so much to say. "Let me remind you that the world doesn’t depend on those idiots’ opinions - you are adored by many others in the community, by our friends and family. Every time our boys look at you, I see the purest love reflecting in their eyes. And I,” he takes a small pause to press a kiss to your knuckles, “I adore you the most. You are the glue that holds all of us together, the Lady of the house, the mother of my children, my loving wife and partner, but most importantly - you are yourself and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Stooop,” you whine, hiding your face in his chest, but not letting go of his hand. “You are making me blush.”

“It suits you,” Diluc chuckles, lifting his other hand to comb through your slightly messy locks. “Red looks really good on you.”

“Pff, the last time you told me so was when you tried to excuse the marks you left on my chest!” you gently bump your forehead into his shoulder and start butting him.

“Still stand by my point,” the redhead presses his cheek to the side of your restless head, returning his arm back around your waist. “But I mean it when I say that without you we are nothing. If you hadn’t entered my life, I wouldn’t be blessed with this family. We smile and laugh and feel so full of love every day only because you are here to love and guide us in ways I don’t feel like I’m capable of.”

“You totally are, the fire of my heart,” he feels your lips on his neck and knows that his own cheeks are being attacked by pink dust.

“Maybe I am, but your contribution is way much more. You know what the boys kept asking after telling me of your sadness?” you lift your head and curiously stare in his gemlike eyes. Diluc is mesmerized for a moment when he sees yours - so clear and honest, with no tear threatening to spill. The smile is back to your pretty lips and your body language is no longer closed off and wounded. You finally look like yourself again, and it fills Diluc’s with joy and pride for you and how strong you actually are.

“They kept asking if they could help you anyhow. They were very eager about it and got a bit moody when I told them they can’t just yet. They love you, dearly.”

“Yes, we do!”

Both of your heads whip to the still closed door and you nearly drop the photo album, which your husband is quick to grab.

“Did you hear that too?” you ask Diluc confused and he nods, putting the book aside.

“Yes, it seems like we have an audience here,” he quietly murmurs to you and then continues in a louder voice, “boys, what did we tell you about eavesdropping?”

“It’s bad!” two voices chime cheerfully and you snort in your fist.

“But affi… effisi… argh, good when work!” adds Rufus and you bet he looks proud. Side-glancing at the groaning redhead, who gently lifts you off his lap and then joins you on his own feet, you ask:

“Why do they know about work?”

“Probably Kaeya. Gonna strangle him later.”

He won’t.

Nevertheless, you are the first to step to the door and open it, revealing the two little troublemakers, who immediately pounce on you, wrapping their arms around your legs.

“Mama, we were so worried…” Lucas presses his face into the fabric of your skirt. Rufus nods but looks up at you with big carmine eyes.

“How are you?”

Such a simple question, but it makes you feel so loved and cherished. Heaving a sigh you reach to comb through their soft locks - the action, which works wonders on any of these three redheads of yours.

You feel Diluc joining your side, wrapping a loose arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your temple, which makes you even more confident.

“I am fine now, rested and ready to spend time with you as promised. Thank you for asking,” you smile, patting the tops of their heads. “Just let me tell the maids to start on dinner.”

“No need, we did it!” the twins grin, unwrapping their arms from around your legs and instead clasping your hands in theirs. You have a feeling of déjà vu - it really reminds you of the scene when you came home.

“What do you mean, sweethearts?”

“You’ll see! Just come with us! Come, come!” They chant and chant, tagging on your hands and you feel how Diluc takes a step forward, attempting to push your body into motion with his own.

“Oh, okay,” you are confused, but you can’t really fight when all three are on the same mission, so you choose to follow them. You walk through the second floor and then down the stairs, but, much to your surprise, pass by the empty dining table and to the front door. You start to doubt their intentions.

“Wait, wait, I am wearing my house dress! And my hair must be such a mess!”

The boys stop right in front of the exit, turning their heads to look at you.

“I think mama is very pretty,” Lucas says.

“She is the most pretty!” Rufus huffs, but reaches to his hair - which you only now notice to be in a ponytail - and takes his ribbon off, offering it to you. “Here, you can use it, if you want.”

“See? They got this from you,” your husband whispers in your ear as you can’t fight back the gleeful smile, rearranging your hair to look decently.

Outside meets you with such a familiar smell of full ripe grapes that mixes into the wind and envelopes you in a summertime embrace. Soon is the harvest season and you'll enjoy watching your family picking up the juicy berries alongside the winery workers.

Your kids lead you and your husband through the vineyard and a little bit to the side, where you, even from a distance, notice Adelinde tending to something on the ground. When you get closer, she straightens up and smiles at you warmly, to which you respond with a soft smile of your own.

“I am happy to see you with us, my Lady,” and you know that she really means it. Diluc is right, there are many people who love and respect you, way more than a small group of envious remnants of the past.

“Mama, look, a picnic!” The boys point at the big blanket and you finally take in the many plates with fresh and mouth-watering dishes, a big jug filled with juice and four glass cups to match. Adelinde also has four pillows ready for you to comfortably sit - the blanket and the grass underneath do little to soften the ground - and hands everyone one so you can settle.

“Boys, this is amazing… Honestly, I am speechless,” you admit, clenching the pillow to your chest and not believing your eyes. The boys in question smile happily, waving their pillows around in excitement and nearly hitting each other with them.

“Addie cooked and we helped!” Rufus eventually puts the part of the decor - which you are sure were taken from the sofa in the hall - on top of his head and pretends to be a pirate in a cocked hat. Oh, the uncle’s influence.

“We also put everything here. On our own!” Lucas clarifies, watching the other twin closely.

You look at Adelinde for explanation.

“Ah, yes, they chose the spot, laid the blanket out and then even tried to carry the plates with food here, but I worried they’d be heavy for them, so they had to leave it to other maids. But they told where and what should be placed.”

Before you can open your mouth and praise your sons, Lucas playfully swings his pillow and knocks his brother’s off of his head, to which the eldest indignantly yelps. He doesn’t stay stunned for long though, grabbing his now imaginable sword and gets ready to attack the giggling younger and start a pillow fight.

But their father clears his throat.

“Rufus, Lucas, behave,” Diluc warns them before they can knock or spill something on their improvised dinner ‘table’. Twins glare at each other, yet hold their respective ‘weapons’ to themselves. “After all, you worked so hard to make mama happy. You don’t want her to be sad again, right?”

This makes both little redheads instantly forget about the battle and their attention is back on you, complete and undivided.

Finally the four of you sit down - Diluc across you and boys immediately by your sides - and begin your outdoor dinner. The oldest Ragnvindr contently sips on his juice and watches his wonderful wife handle their fidgety sons. His keen eye notices everything - matching bright smiles and identically sounding sonorous laughter, the way the boys gaze at you charmed and lean into you when you refill their plates or glasses and your gentle touch and soft voice when you interact with your precious fireflies - so many obvious traits they share with you and anyone who doesn’t see it is either blind or an idiot.

He hopes you see this truth as well, and both your heart and mind make peace with it. After all, there is only one person that can be by his side, be the mother of his children and make this family happy - and the answer is always going to be you.

taglist: @sleep-deprivedracoon

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #diluc x fem!reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #dadluc #genshin impact fluff #pearly family au

1K notes · View notes

josiesullysblog · 1 year

Text

Don’t Leave Me. P2

~AGED UP Neteyam x Na’vi reader

~Angst, Fluff

~Proofread?-no

~Summary-[Y/n] grew up in a home with conditional love.

***

Neteyam was a protector. He knew his role at a very young age, it could be something small like a forest animal, or a young child in his clan he understood that if the time came he’d protect.

He took pride in being like his father, he loved protecting his family he wanted them to look for him if they were ever in danger. So, he believed he could justify why he saw red when he saw this mark on you.

Neteyam knew, that you were a sweet girl. You barely stepped out of line and most of the time kept to yourself. Whoever hurt you was going to learn, don’t fuck with Neteyam’s mate.

“I don't like repeating myself.”

You stood silently as Neteyam looked at your cheek, “it was no one,” you said trying to convince yourself more than him. He let a dry laugh, “[Y/n], I understand if you're scared whoever hit you is gonna hurt you again,” he paused.

He forced your eyes to look at him, “But I assure you whoever laid their hands on you will pay.”

Your breath hitched as the boy smiled. How could he smile yet make such threats, what would he do if he found out who it was? You stayed silent not knowing what to say, “[Y/n]!”

A voice called pulling your attention out appeared Kiri, “Your mother was calling for you,” your eyes widen as you thank her, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you say to Neteyam as you try to leave, “[Y/n], if you won’t tell me I’ll find out.”

You knew he would, you were more scared of your mother than him so you chose silence. “Okay,” you say as you run off. This side of him gave you comfort in a way.

He cared about you, and he’s willing to figure out who hurt you. You smile softly as you see your mother, “yes,” you say softly.

She had never been violent towards you, but you knew she didn't like you. You didn't know why, maybe it's because you had grown up.

Many parents tend to want babies, yet become upset when the babies grow up. You were an only child for many reasons but the main one was, your parents didn't like each other.

They didn't even sleep in the same room so they certainly weren't going to mate.

“Why’d you run away,” she grabbed your ear, “Huh? Do you think this shit funny?” she dragged you as you yelled in pain, “Stop!” she flung you to the floor as your father came into the room, “what’s the meaning of this?”

You lifted your head to look at your mother, “I have never once done anything to deserve,” you sobbed as your father went to you, “honey-,” you cut him off, “GET AWAY FROM ME!”

Your emotions overwhelmed you, “the both of you are terrible people,” you stood up wiping your cheeks your sadness turning to anger.

“I wish I was just as naive as the people you put your act on for.”

Your mother grabbed you by the arm, “That's enough,” you yanked yourself away, “is it? You two act like I don't know, that I don't see that you both don't love each other.” Your mother stopped, “That's not true.”

“YES, IT IS!” you scream, “Honey,” your father tried to speak again, “No, it doesn't make sense. If you loved each other I wouldn't have caught that lady on Dad.”

You looked him in the eye, “Mom wouldn't have a new “special friend” over all the time,” tears fell down your cheeks, “and I’ve noticed this entire time, but I didn't say anything.”

You stopped as you notice tears in your mother's eyes, “I didn't say anything because I thought maybe one-day things would change.”

Your father put his head down, “and you hitting me today even though I did nothing proved something to me.” Your father's head shot up, “you hit her,” his voice raising, “I learned that you aren't staying together for me, you're doing it for them.”

“You aren't even his,” your mother’s voice was soft, “What?” your father steps in front of you, “don't listen.” your mother yanked at you, “YOU AREN’T EVEN HIS, [Y/n].”

You felt your heart in your stomach, “he was just some cover-up because your real dad is a piece of shit,” you sobbed, “tell me she's lying, DAD, TELL ME,” his head hung low, his hand reaching out for you, “I still love you.”

You ripped his hand away, “why do you hate me so much,” you faced your mother, “you ruined my life,” she said smiling, “It's only fair you feel how I’ve felt since the day you’ve been born.”

“Your father left me BECAUSE OF YOU,” your mother said, “he said no one could love me since my body was ruined.” she looked at you as if you were trash, “what woman has a child and no mate? So, this piece of crap agreed to play along.”

You looked at your “father” He looked away, “We had an agreement we would do whatever we want but the minute we leave this house, we were mated.” she smiled, “Guess you're not a dumbass after all.”

You looked at your hands, “fuck you, Mom,” you turned to leave wiping the tears that fell.

You sat on a tree contemplating. Everything you've ever known has been torn into shreds, and tears puddles in your eyes. How could you move on after this?

The man who you thought was your father turned out to be a hoax your mother put on. You sobbed as you thought more about it, and the only question you had was why.

Why did this have to happen to you? Why did your “parents” not love each other? Why did your mother lie about your father? I mean even if he was a piece of shit you still deserved to know who your real father is.

“[Y/n],” a voice calls for you. You knew who it was, the boy who has been stuck in your mind for as long as you can remember, “yes,” you said as he sat down next to you. His hand grabbed yours he sat in silence not saying anything.

Neteyam said he was going to find out who hit you, and he did. “I know who did it,” he said finally breaking the silence. Your eyes widen, “teyem, she didn't mean to,” you don't know why you tried defending her.

She didn't deserve that from you.

“Didn't mean to my ass,” he made you look at him, “You know I love you,” you nodded slowly, “so, you know that I'd do anything to protect you, even from your own parents.”

You looked away, “I just don't get it,” You finally broke down in front of the boy, “I don't know why they are like this,” the boy wrapped his arms around you, “You deserve better [Y/n], I can give you everything you ever dreamed of and more.”

You believed him. You knew he could but your mind stopped you. How did you know he wasn't going to leave you? How do you know that even after you have his child he won't leave? Every bad possible situation to ever happen your mind thought about.

“My parents,” you paused your mind was mushy, “they didn't love each other. They put on this front but I knew they didn't love each other.” you let the truth slip your mouth, “How will I know you’ll love me?” The question came from a place of insecurity and for most, those types of questions were annoying.

But you needed to know. You wanted the reassurance that he wanted you, not because you could give him children. Not because you could cook, clean, or whatever because anybody could do those things. You wanted him to want you for you, and not the things you could do for him.

“I’ve always loved you,” Neteyam kisses your hand, “from the moment we met, till right now my heart has always been yours.” he smiled at you as he saw that blush appear on your cheeks.

“I can never take someone else as long as I live because I’ll always be searching for you in them,” tears puddled in your eyes, “I don't care how long it takes, I’ll wait for you. If you have problems tell me I want to help, I need you to know that i’m right here,” he put his forehead on yours, “I’ll protect you, I’d do anything even kill if it meant I could see you one last time, [Y/n].”

You connected your lips with him, and he grabbed you pulling you into his lap. You grabbed onto his hair deepening the kiss till you both are forced to let go for air. “I love you, Neteyam.”

He smiled big, “You won’t have to worry about your parents, love” You gave a bittersweet smile maybe leaving them was for the best, “Okay, oh dear you have blood on your chest!” the boy simply wiped it away, “I was helping my mother cook!” you nodded before you two started cuddling, “I meant every word I said, I’ll protect you.” you smiled, “I know.”

After you had left, Kiri tried speaking with Neteyam but it was like the boy was gone. He was there but someone else took over his body. Neteyam knew your schedule, who you hung out with, and what you did so for you to have a mark it would need to come from someone close to you.

“Kiri, did you hang out with [Y/n] today?” the girl shook her head, “No, I haven't she was with her family most of the day.” Neteyam nodded before walking off, had only Kiri known what was going to happen next she wouldn't have said that.

He became your shadow, watching as your mother dragged you. His teeth gritted against each other, it was taking a lot from him not to go and kill your mother.

He wanted you to think he was a good boy, who followed the rules and was always nice. He didn't need you to know that he had bad thoughts. Thoughts of killing everybody that came into contact with you, and keeping you locked away from everything.

You’d become dependent on him, your eyes would look for him, and you’d be on your knees for him. He stood outside the makeshift door as he heard you fight with your parents.

“You aren't even his!” Neteyam’s heart broke for you. Finding out the man who raised you isn't your father? That's a lot to deal with, thankfully Neteyam was there to help you.

He heard you cry and all he needed was for you to leave. “Fuck you, Mom,” you said before running out. Neteyam's smile widen as he creeped out heading into the room, “hello,” he said as your mother looked at him, “Neteyam! What brings you here?” what heartless person yells at their child then turns around and smiles?

I mean he has no room to talk, “I heard a little arguing everything alright?” your father nodded, “Just a little family disagreement,” the man went to place a hand on the boy but Neteyam grabbed it quickly, “It didn't sound like that to me.”

“Thats one good grip you have boy,” he tried getting his hand back but Neteyam's grip became harder, “I know what you said to her,” his anger flipping to your mother, “and I think it's just so cruel to keep such a huge secret from your daughter.”

“Good thing she’s coming with me,” he moved quickly taking a knife out and cutting your father's neck, not to kill him just a warning. Your father fell to the floor as your mother backed up.

“Scared now?” he grabbed her and covered her mouth before she could scream, “i’m going to tell you how this is going to work from here on out, or,” he brought his knife to the woman’s neck, “you're not going to like it.”

“You are going to stay away from [Y/n],” he kicked your father who was writhing on the floor, “i’m going to mate with her, and you two will of course give us your blessings or I will kill you two.”

Your mother cried under the boy's tight grip, “You weren't so sad after causing my girl harm,” he cut her high before letting her fall, “tell anyone this was me and I’ll have you wiped from this planet.”

He put his knife back and walked out, “Thank you for the blessings, Mom and Dad.”

***

HEYYY GUYSSS!!! so sorry it took longer to finish this I have so much school work thank God school is almost over!! Hope you enjoy it!!”

Taglist: @cherry-blossom24 , @yourbobaeyestell, @erenjaegerwife, @mashiromochi, @nxptury, @eywaheardyou, @vviolaswrld, @stevesdick , @nana-luvsyu, @liyahsocorro , @coterami, @parrotpeggy, @adaiasafira, @elegantzippercashshoe, @lollife1617, @aracelikara, @bluealiensimp, @hoodiepandaninja16, @ssc7514, @white-girl444, @idaxellqs, @nataliexoxoxo29

#avatar way of water #neteyam #avatar loak #jake sully #avatar #neteyam x y/n #avatar tuk #avatar neytiri #neytiri #neteyam smut #protective neteyam #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x you #avatar neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x oc #neteyam x omaticaya!reader

306 notes · View notes

nixie-writes · 1 year

Text

Blitz and Stolas raise reader from an egg

What a way to come back to the dead with a commission I received from @thebattlecats2001 a little while back. This will probably be in queue for a while so Idk when this will post.

Blitz found himself in Greed once again, digging through the leftovers of his utter destruction of LooLoo Land to find something worth the effort. He passed by several tubs full of green liquid he didn’t have the guts to touch. Along his travels through the construction center he spied imps at the border of Notamafiatown, cornering an unlucky imp who probably didn’t pay back their loan or something. He turned to have deniability and ignored the cries and gunshots; he wasn’t here to witness a murder. Instead he reached his hand into some old junk and pulled out a long gun with a few rounds still inside.

He was observing the old Tommy gun when he noticed, from the corner of his eye, a small bag fall over. Bags don’t move on their own. Approaching the sentient bag he found it had the unmistakable Mammon logo on it, and inside was something shivering. He reconsidered his options with this bag. Did he need to open it? What if he found a half dead body in there? At the same time, he could also find money or other valuables. He wasn’t quite sure. Abandoning his hesitance he grabbed the bag.

Opening the bag he was met with a trembling egg. It was white with red spots adorning it. Digging around he saw the egg was in a poorly built little basket filled with rocks and soft blankets. Before he pulled out of the bag he spied a small sheet of paper and, examining it closer, found it was a letter. Swiping the letter from the bag he glanced across the words, taking in the details.

To Whoever Finds This,

This is my egg, my baby. I can no longer care for it; I’m sick and frail. The father insisted we leave the egg outside for a loving family to find. Please be kind to my egg, it’s all I have and I have to let it go. Thank you.

Blitz sighed to himself. Only he would find himself in this dilemma. Tucking the letter in his pocket he wrapped his tail around the egg and lifted it up, carrying it with him away from what used to be LooLoo Land. He gently sat it in the seat next to him and started up his little car, driving away.

Upon arriving home, Blitz gently laid the egg on his bed. He had no idea what the hell to do with it. Loona would be home soon and she’d probably tell him to just take it to an orphanage. He didn’t exactly want to do that. He felt a little bad for the egg. It had no home, no parents, it was out on its luck.

Pulling together some blankets and a heating pad he got the egg all comfy to maybe help it stop shivering. It didn’t seem to help but at least the poor thing was warm. He was trying to find out what it may be when he was interrupted by a familiar ringtone on his phone. He answered and put the phone to his ear. “Hey Stolas,” he greeted in a distracted voice.

“Blitzy!” a jovial voice greeted him. Blitz listened to Stolas as he gave a rundown of his day, talking about the fun he and Octavia had at a local fair and how he won Via a stuffed bear. They certainly seemed to be a happy family. Blitz couldn’t help but think that this egg he found deserved that much at least. Then it clicked in his mind.

“Hey, Stolas,” he prompted over the phone. “Not to be weird but, I found this egg that’s definitely alive and it has no family. Think you can take it? I sure as hell can’t.” His offer was met by a squeal of delight. “I’ll take that as a yes; see you in twenty.”

Arriving at the palace with egg in tow Blitz sat in Stolas’ room, waiting for him to come in. As he waited he took glimpses at the books Stolas collected. He had many about plants and herbs, a few about toads in specific, and one book that stuck out to him - a book about pirates. It was heartwarming to know Stolas remembered his childhood fascination with pirates and even got a book about them just so the two could have something to talk about.

Stolas entered the room with two cups of coffee, one in each hand. He offered Blitz a cup and sat down across from him. “So this is the egg you mentioned?” he asked, pointing to the egg Blitz had brought in. Blitz nodded his head; “yep, that’s the little one. Think you can take it in?” Stolas hummed. “I could but, it needs two parents to have a healthy childhood and I don’t think Stella meets the criteria. You have experience raising kids, who do you think would be a good co-parent?”

Blitz scoffed. “Me, duh! Tell you what, I’ll come by every day before going home and check on the little guy before going home. I’m busy but I can work that into my schedule. Then once it hatches, I can move in. Good deal?” Blitz held out a hand to shake. Stolas took his hand and shook it. “Now to break this to Octavia…” Stolas hummed. “I leave that to you,” Blitz laughed awkwardly.

** Time Skip **

Stolas yawned, flipping open a newspaper using his magic and skimming through everything on the pages. Blitz sat at the table, sipping a cup of coffee and doodling some horses. Octavia stood near the fridge, feeding the carnivorous plant a T-Bone steak. It was a seemingly quiet morning…Almost too quiet.

“Has anyone seen [Y/N]?” Octavia asked when she’d finished feeding the plant. Blitz shrugged, not looking up from his paper. “I dunno, haven’t seen him since I woke up.” Stolas hummed. “I would imagine he’s still asleep,” he suggested.

Octavia sighed and left the kitchen, looking around for [Y/N]. She took a peek in each open room and found nothing. She searched the play room and was met with nothing but strewn out toys and markers next to an open coloring book of horses he and Blithad been coloring the night before. She was beginning to worry. It wasn’t until she looked in her room again she was met with the sight of her red-feathered little brother. “[Y/N]! I’ve been looking all over for you!”

You climbed off her bed, a coloring book under your feathery arm. “Hi sissy! Look at my coloring book!” You held up your book of horses to Octavia and she smiled at your crudely colored pictures. You weren’t yet old enough to color in the lines and you didn’t seem interested in learning when Octavia tried teaching you. It was hard to distinguish between your drawings and Blitz’s drawings.

Pointing at a horse you’d colored you announced, “this is Stapler!” Octavia laughed and patted you on the head. Scooping you up in her arms she headed back to the kitchen where Stolas and Blitz were. “I found our little artist,” she announced as she sat you down. You made a break to Blitz, your feathers fluffed up in excitement. “Look, look! I drew Stapler!” You squealed, shoving the coloring book in Blitz’s face.

“Yeah, I see that. Way to go, champ!” Blitz congratulated, patting you on the head. You giggled, turning to Stolas. “Can we read the book about pirates again?” you inquired, bouncing up and down. “Of course my little captain,” Stolas agreed. You fist pumped the air, squeaking in excitement. “All right!” You squealed. Octavia giggled from the entrance to the kitchen.

Approaching Stolas Octavia spoke in a soft voice. “Things have been a lot better since Blitz brought that egg,” she mused. Stolas nodded in agreement. “When you have a child you’ll understand the appeal,” Stolas promised.

#helluva boss #blitzo #blitz #stolas #blitz x stolas #blitzo x stolas #helluva boss x reader

162 notes · View notes

specialagentlokitty · 1 month

Text

Master chief x reader - my blood, your blood

Part 2:

You put your hands into your pockets, burying your nose into the fabric of your jacket as your eyes bore into his.

“This is a mistake.” He warned.

“Is it? I was never going to be a Spartan, never. I was a fucking prisoner because Halsey was curious about me.”

“You are a Spartan, you are supposed to be a Spartan. This is a mistake, you don’t want to do this (Y/N).”

You scoffed a little bit.

“Really? Because while everybody else looks up to you, they frown at the sight of me. Call me cursed, a monster, because that’s all I ever was to them. All my people ever were to them.”

“What? What are you talking about?” He asked.

“You think I haven’t read the files John? I know exactly what they think about me, and I know what the UNSC did to my people…”

John tried to move against your hold on him, and you raised your hand, lifting a finger, his hands coming up to remove his helmet and hold it.

You put your hand back and you studied him.

“I want to see your face when I tell you exactly what they did. When they came and took me away they attacked this planet at the same time. They killed all of the people living here in cold blood. Because they were scared of something they didn’t understand.”

You turned to look at the city behind you, then turned back to him.

“This is how they work, if it doesn’t fit inside their own beliefs or wants, then they purge them, they get rid of them.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying, you’re angry, you just need to calm down.”

“I am calm!” You shouted.

You looked at your hands, the small hole at the bottom of both your wrists, then back to the man in front of you.

“I will not play solider for a bunch of killers. They took our families from us, stole us away. They deserve to pay for that.”

“That’s not true.”

You scoffed.

“Believe what you want, but I know the truth. I’m not going back, and if I see anybody from the UNSC again I’ll kill them.”

You turned around, walking down the path to the desolate city.

“The hold will break soon, by then I’ll be long gone!”

With that you ran off, trying to get as far away as possible.

They’d come looking after you, so you found a way into the tunnels under the city, found somewhere to hide where you spent a good chunk of time.

You finally emerged above land when you were completely sure that everybody was gone, and you began to look around.

The streets were destroyed, covered in rubble, debris, skeletons from people long passed.

You wouldn’t be able to find your family, you had no way of finding them anymore, but the sight of everything around you just fed your rage.

You didn’t have the means to leave the planet, and that was okay by you, you had spent so long along that you didn’t care about being alone anymore, you were used to it.

But if they sent any marines after you then you wouldn’t hesitate to kill them, or severely injure them as a warning to the people behind this.

You had create a small shelter for yourself, thankfully food wasn’t hard to come by, so you began growing your own, along with some of the seeds you brought over in your pockets.

You had a quiet life ahead of you, and that’s what you wanted, just you and yourself alone.

You kept your training up, since it had been drilled into you, but that was the only thing that you kept going.

You weren’t sure how long you had spend on the desolate planet, but when a ship was flying over the city you were immediately alert, and you ran into one of the buildings.

Holding out your hand you let your blood flow down to take form as a sword, and you crouched by a broken window, carefully watching the streets below.

Whoever it was would’ve had to land on the outside of the city in order to get in, so you stayed there and you waited, listening carefully.

Aside from the chirping of birds, everything was quiet, so you immediately recognised the sound of the heavy footsteps coming closer.

“I know you’re here.” He called.

“I warned you what would happen if you came back.” You called back.

Jogging up the stairs, you reached the roof, jumping over to the building next to you, sliding down the broken concrete onto the floor below.

You crouched by this window as John looked around, his gun raised and ready.

“I’ve been sent to bring you back.” He called out.

“I’m not going back!”

“This isn’t a choice, my orders are to bring you back by any means necessary!”

“You’ll have to kill me first!”

Holding your hand out, you balled it inside a fist and he dropped, dropping his gun as his hand went to his heart, letting out a groan of pain.

You jumped down the stairs, jogging to the large hole in the wall, and you crouched down, resting your sword on your legs.

John looked up at you, reaching for his gun, and you took control again so he couldn’t.

“I warned you and you came back.”

“You’re being charged for treason.”

“I don’t care.”

“They’ll sentence you to death.”

“They’ll have to catch me first.”

He sighed.

“You’re making this harder than it had to be, you will be arrested (Y/N).”

You shrugged a little bit, jumping down to the ground, twirling your sword between your fingers as you approached him.

“You’re just a toy to them. They wouldn’t care if you died, they wouldn’t care if any of you died, they’ll simply have more in line waiting.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, this is an order, stand down.”

“I don’t take orders from you.”

“I’m trying to help you.”

You scoffed, shaking your head.

“You’re trying to follow orders like a good little soldier.”

“Then you leave me no choice. Everybody move in.”

All the marines surrounded you, and you looked around, your hold temporarily faltering and John took this as his chance.

He grabbed you by the arms and you panicked, your sword dissolved into a puddle of blood at your feet, and you focused on the soldier in front of you.

You took control of him, making him raised his gun, aiming it at the leg of the man next to him and pull the trigger.

“Don’t shoot!” John yelled.

In the chaos you did the same thing a few more times, finally using the mess to get to John, you forced his hand away from you and spun around.

Controlling the blood all over the floor you made two swords holding them tightly, and you swung for him, and he was barely able to avoid them.

“You can’t break this armour!”

“Maybe not! But all I need is to cover it in blood!”

John grabbed your arms, throwing you back into a building, and you felt the air leave your lungs at the impact, but you got back up.

He rushed over, trying to grab you, and you ducked under him, swinging your arm to the side opening a large wound across his back, but he didn’t react.

Spinning around, he swung again, and you ducked, right into his other hand, he grabbed you and stabbed something into your arm.

“Halsey has been working on a way to control your powers.”

“Son a bitch let me go!”

You struggled against him, but he just held your arms behind your back, forcing you to walk forward towards the ship.

“You’ve made this worse than it had to be.”

“I’d rather die.” You spat.

“We can work something out, but you need to be willing to do whatever the admiral says.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

You kept on struggling, digging your feet into the ground, trying to pry his hands from you but it wasn’t working.

Every time you tripped over he just picked you up and pushed your forward, but he kept asking you to not make things harder for yourself.

You were getting closer to the ship and you realised you had to act quickly, you weren’t going back to reach, you weren’t going back to the UNSC.

You dug your feet into the dirt.

“Stop resisting.”

John went to move your forward and you ducked under his arm, then you threw yourself to the side and right down the muddy path.

Once you finished tumbling down, you rolled over, and stood up pulling your arms to the side to break the cuffs.

They may have stopped you from being able to control blood, but you still had strength on your side, so when you snapped them you climbed over a log and began to ran.

“STOP!” John shouted.

You didn’t get a chance to duck out of the way, a loud bang echoed the silence, and you fell over from the impact, rolling down another hill back towards the city.

You were running on adrenaline you didn’t even register the pain, you just jumped straight up and carried on running, straight through the city and out the other side, jumping into the river and that’s where they lost you.

There was no trail, no indication of which way you went.

You hadnt gone far, you had gone down the river and backtracked to your home, changed out of your went clothes and stood in front of the mirror as you looked at your shoulder.

The bullet went right through, which was good, the bad thing was you couldn’t stitch up the back, so you had to stitch the front and hope for the best.

That’s what you did, with your being shot and no body being found, you assumed they declared you dead, and that’s what you wanted.

You could finally have some peace, so you went back to your quiet life.

You were wondering the city, looking for some new clothes to wear, or something to repair yours, and you stopped when a shadow loomed over you.

You slowly reached for your knife.

“Wait I’m not here to cause trouble.”

“Then you shouldn’t have come.”

Spinning around, you threw your knife forward, and he grabbed your hand, blocking your leg with his as you tried to kick him.

“I just want to talk.”

John let you go, taking a few steps and you charged again, slashing your knife to the side, and he barely dodged it, he placed his hand on your back, pushing your away.

He made no attempt to actually hit you.

He kept backing away as you kept attacking.

“I have the cure.”

You stopped.

John rummaged through his pocket, pulling out a small vile.

“I have the cure to what Halsey gave me to inject you with. I’ll give it to if we can talk.”

You studied him, narrowing your eyes a little bit, and he kept his hands raised.

“I know the truth about what happened to us.”

“They sent you here to trick me. Keep your cure.” You spat.

Putting your knife away, you went back to rummaging through the shop window you had been at and he sighed.

You were sightly covered in dirt, but you were wearing camouflage trousers, your boots and a vest, and he could see the light gleaming if the scar on your shoulder.

The scar he had given you.

“I know they faked our deaths, made our families believe we died. I know what they did to us.”

“Good for you.”

You stood up, putting something into your pocket and you carried on walking down the street, so he trailed behind you.

“I just want to talk, that’s all. I’ll give you the cure, all I asked is we have some time to talk, that’s it. I can’t go back to reach, not yet. I need to know everything, I need to know what you know.”

You walked over to the broken fountain and sat down on it, laying on your back with your arms under your head.

“Keep pestering I’m not going to help you.”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what you know.”

“Fine, stay, go, I don’t care anymore, just leave me alone.”

You had no chance at fighting John without being able to control his blood, that’s what made you stronger than the other Spartans. Without it you didn’t stand a chance.

John sat down on a bit of rock, looking up at you.

“I’m sorry.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

He nodded his head, trying to think of the right words to say to try and get you to help him.

He needed to know what you knew, maybe it could help him fill in the blanks in his memory he didn’t know, but all he knew was that he needed your help.

You were the only other person aside from him that knew the truth, that knew what really happened

#halo #halo x reader #halo x you #halo imagine #halo the series #John 117 #john 117 x reader #John 117 x you #John 117 imagine #master chief #master chief x reader #master chief x you #master chief imagine

25 notes · View notes

sheikahwarriork · 6 months

Note

Got a prompt for you

Dimileth Post-Timeskip pre-Gronder unplanned pregnancy

(thank you so much anon, i had so much fun writing this!! hope you enjoy it too :3 <3)

wordcount: 1.2k

“Fuck!”

“… Fuck indeed”.

Byleth looked up at Mercedes, biting her lips. “What the fuck am I supposed to do now?!”

Mercedes sighed, visibly worried for her professor. “I think… you should at least tell him, professor. The final choice is entirely yours, of course, but he has to know”. She hesitated. “He needs to know”.

Byleth lowered her gaze. “Sadly, I think you’re right”.

The former mercenary was standing in front of the Cathedral, unable to step inside. She caressed her belly almost unconsciously. ‘You’re not a mistake. I just… I'd rather prefer you not to meet your father when he’s… like that’.

The belly didn’t respond.

Byleth was angry. Furious. She had never felt such rage, not even to Kronya the day Jeralt died. And the worst part? She didn’t even know who exactly this rage was for. Herself? Maybe. Destiny? Not exactly; destiny was Sothis, and Sothis was long gone. Him? Well, yes, of course; but not only. Biology? That one, too. Maybe especially it.

Byleth’s gaze wandered inside the Cathedral, immediately recognizing his figure, standing in front of the old Goddess statue, as he did every single fucking day since they reunited.

Okay, maybe that anger was totally for Dimitri. What did he do, since she woke up, since she found him? Kill, talk to the dead; kill, argue with Byleth; kill; and kiss her. He kissed her. He fucking kissed her. That damn bastard, who once was so afraid of his feelings he even took back his love confession, had the gall to grab her and kiss her like she was water and he was lost in a desert. He kissed her at the worst time possible because she had waited for it for so long, and that wasn’t the right time. She had kissed him back. Byleth missed her Dimitri; missed the sweet prince, missed the caring student, missed her kind friend. She shouldn’t have kissed him back. She should have scolded him, have stepped back. That… that wasn’t her Dimitri. Her lips weren’t for that… not-Dimitri. She should have gone away. She hadn’t, of course, because when Dimitri’s hungry lips captured hers, she felt… desire. Longing. Fire; a burning sensation she thought would kill her instantly. It hadn’t. She indulged in the fire, she lost herself in that fire. She was fire; she had been since the beginning.

Byleth shook her head; it was pointless to think about… that. What is done is done.

She stepped inside the Cathedral; he didn’t turn to her, his shoulders startled slightly, the only sign he noticed her presence.

Oh, the anger was back. Like a tsunami. “Oi, asshole!” Byleth shouted, unable to stop herself. “I have something important to tell you, so at least, look at me”.

Dimitri hesitated for a moment, but apparently something in Byleth’s tone caught his curiosity, since he did turn to her. He just shot her a vague questioning glare.

Byleth sighed. She thought about the advice Mercedes gave her, about what to tell him, how to tell him—

“I’m pregnant”.

It didn’t go exactly as planned.

Dimitri’s eyes widened, the hand holding Areadbhar twitched. He didn’t say anything, just looked at her for forty seconds straight.

“… Who”, he eventually said.

Byleth furrowed. “What?!”

“Who dared touch you”, Dimitri growled, his voice raising in tone.

Byleth blinked a few times. “What the hell do you mean”.

Dimitri was getting closer; he stopped a few inches from Byleth’s face.

“I’ll kill them. I’ll kill whoever dared to touch you, no, whoever dares to even look at you—”

‘Oh… oh heavens, no. He can’t be that dumb, can he?’

“What are you talking about?”

“… The baby’s father, of course”, he hissed, visibly annoyed. “Who is he”. Dimitri looked away, almost as if he was unable to hold her gaze. Almost as if he feared the answer.

‘Oh. He is that dumb’.

“Who do you think he is?” Byleth asked, almost casually. He was going to pay for his dumbness, and she deserved some fun.

Dimitri turned to her, anger in his eyes. “Don’t tease me, you! Tell me who dared touch my—”

“‘Your’ what? Am I yours now?” Byleth interrupted him, folding her arms, holding his gaze.

Dimitri gasped and fell silent. Byleth, still looking him in the eye, grabbed his hand and placed it on her belly.

“This is yours. This— is ours”. ‘You dumbass’, she also thought, but decided to keep it to herself.

Dimitri’s eyes went from their joined hands to her face, looking at her in disbelief.

“Keep in mind—I’m not asking you for help or… or opinions. I don’t need them and don’t care about them. I’m just telling you because you have the right to know—”

Byleth stopped talking when Dimitri suddenly dropped to his knees, their joined hands still placed on Byleth’s belly. It took her a few seconds to notice he was sobbing. Desperately sobbing.

“I’m sorry”, Dimitri was mumbling. “I’m so sorry”.

Yes, Byleth was generally angry with him, but she didn’t hate him. Quite the opposite, in fact. That’s why she yielded and took his face in her hands, looking at him. “Why are you apologizing, Dimitri?” she asked softly.

Dimitri startled, as he did every time Byleth called him by his name. He tried to turn away, but Byleth kept holding him, looking him in the eye. “Answer me”, she demanded.

“I…” Dimitri gasped, searching for words. “Your… child… deserves a better father. A better person. All I know how to do is kill… I have to… They… are telling me this is wrong; I do not have the right—”

“Dimitri”, Byleth interrupted firmly. “A soon-to-be-human is growing inside me. A child will be born. I will be their mother, you will be their father. Now, tell me. Who is more important? The long-gone ones, or the coming ones? Who do you want to dedicate your life to? What, who does your life belong to?”

Dimitri’s eyes were shut, tears along his cheeks. “I… want… it to be yours. Both of you”. His eyes opened. “But, tell me, professor... Please, Byleth, tell me... How do I silence their desperate pleas? How do I... How do I save them? Ever since that day nine years ago... I have lived only to avenge the fallen… How could I be a fitting father for a small creature if I can’t even please those that are already here…”

“Those are not here, Dimitri”, Byleth whispered, her forehead touching his. “But I’m here, and they… they will be soon”, she added, bringing his hand back to her belly. “You just need to choose. Not necessarily now. I’ll… wait for you; I’ll always wait for you.” Her vision was blurred. Was she crying too? ‘I miss you, Dimitri. I miss you so much. Please, don’t leave me alone anymore…’

She would wait until the end of time, if needed, to have a glimpse of her Dimitri back. She knew it, and it hurt. Because she was aware she’d never stop loving him. And, sometimes, to love means to wait. And, often, waiting is painful.

Lost in her tears, she didn’t immediately notice Dimitri’s hands softly caressing her cheeks. When she did, she opened her eyes to meet Dimitri’s resolute gaze. “And I’ll always choose you, my beloved.”

#thank u so muchhhh i hope the grammar is right oh my god #im so tired rn and writing in english is DIFFICULT #i have another ask with a prompt but ill work to it tomorrow #also guys why lately are you asking me about dimileth babies. even the other ask is about children #im 23 please dont make me think too much about having kids HELp #joking im appreciating these asks SO MUCH I LOVE UUU #dimileth #byleth eisner #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #fe3h #my fic #dimileth fic #angst with a happy ending #<3 #sothis ships dimileth

38 notes · View notes

serenefreakgeekao3 · 1 year

Text

Ever in our favour

CHAPTER FIVE

[Table of Contents}

Summary: Now having to care for Rue as well, you realize you have to perform to survive Warnings: Canon-typical violence, descriptions of blood and death

“Hey Rue,” You begin, speaking into the cloud of hair ambushing your face, “Are you hurt at all? Do you need some of this medicine?” You feel her shake her head into your chest and acquiesce, tightening your hold on her. “Okay, good.”

“That is good, it looks like we’ll have very little left after this,” Peeta adds in, his fingers gentle across the wound on your back. The pain-numbing part of the medicine was already kicking in, smoothing the glide into something soothing, even.

“So, who all is left?” It was Rue who finally pulled back, looking you in the eyes as she spoke.

“There are eleven of us left. Both of District 1 and 2, District 4’s boy, District 5’s girl, you,” She nods at you, then continues, “Both of us from my district, and both of District 12.” Her eyes dart to Peeta behind you, whose hands still at the same time. Everything pauses for a moment, and you suck in a breath, pushing past the fact that Peeta’s district partner was still around. That woman who had volunteered- the girl who had been set on fire. Everyone was betting on her if not the careers. But- you all have now partnered together. What could they be thinking about that?

“Those poor darlings, all three lining up to be killed together!”

“Maybe if you add all of their scores together it’d make one career?”

“I’d pay to send my tribute to them. I bet whoever gets all three at the same time deserves a prize!”

You shudder involuntarily at the thoughts strewn across your mind, trying your best to block out those irritating Capital accents and brightly coloured bodies. You could feel Peeta hesitate behind you, likely worried he had hurt you. He placed his free hand on your shoulder, and you reached up to take his hand in yours to provide some sort of comfort. You could feel Peeta rub what felt like the same spot as the last two times and begin to wonder if he was just prolonging the time he was allowed to do this.

“What would you do?” Rue asked, and when you finally came back to yourself and looked toward her you could see her eyes locked on Peeta behind you.

“About what, darling?” You whisper, trying to pull her closer. Every single time you laid your eyes on her you’re reminded of how young she is, of how she should be anywhere but here.

“If we ran into Katniss,” She whispers back to you, her eyes flitting briefly to your own before looking back at him. “If he runs into her.”

“I would run,” Peeta announces, his voice hard behind you. He was no longer even pretending to rub the medicine onto your back; he just held your hand on your shoulder, the other pressed completely to your back as if he could drain comfort through it. “I don’t want to fight her.” His voice was quiet, but slowly gained volume until he was talking normally once again. “Of course, I don’t want to fight her. I don’t want to fight anyone. But we all do what needs to be done to survive.” You squeeze his hand and you can hear him choke behind you, finally turning to look at him as he finishes off, “We do what needs to be done to protect the ones we care about.”

“You said that includes me now?” You both snap your heads to look at Rue, who seems almost to curl into herself. “You said you care about me, that you’ll protect me now?” She raises her eyes to Peeta once more, and you almost want to step in between them for how it makes you feel. “So you would protect me? Would you kill someone like you did that District Six boy by the river? Would you kill Katniss to protect me?”

“Katniss would never harm you,” Peeta reassures immediately, scooting forward to sit next to you instead of behind. “Katniss would never put anyone into a position where we’d have to kill her to save you, because she would never harm you.”

“Peeta,” You whisper, watching Rue’s eyes fill with tears.

“You’d be surprised,” She mumbled, her voice wavering with emotions. You tighten your hold on the girl and she curls into your chest. “You think you know somebody until-” She breaks off, crying into your chest. You can do nothing but hold her, smoothing her hair down under your chin and looking back at Peeta with worried eyes. Silence reigns until her cries finally quiet down.

“Yes,” Peeta whispers, finally reaching a hesitant hand out to place against the back of her head. She pulls back enough to look up at him, and you follow her gaze to see Peeta’s face full of confidence and assurance. “I would kill anyone who tried to harm you, Rue. Katniss included.”

“So, eleven left of twenty-four,” Peeta begins, shooting a grin over toward you. The three of you were walking through the forest aimlessly. You held the knife you had in your hand, using it occasionally to pick berries or other herbs you came across. Peeta had a wicked-looking dagger in hand himself, cutting away at any bushes or brambles that blocked your way. It looked eerily similar in the dancing sunlight, almost like the one that had been pressed to your throat near the river. Rue walked silently between or behind the two of you, quietly pointing out different herbs or berries to you whenever they would pass by unseen by your eyes. “That’s not too-”

“Sh,” Rue calls out suddenly, ducking down as if out of instinct. You glance at her, then in the direction she was looking. When you all remained quiet, that’s when you heard it. It almost sounded like a splashing sound, repeated in a broken rhythm every so often. Then you heard the muffled cursing sounds- obviously human- and watched Rue frighten and begin scrambling up a nearby tree. You nod slowly, glad she’s able to take care of herself, as you and Peeta duck down under nearby cover. You keep your eyes peeled in the direction of the sounds, jumping to Peeta and Rue, then back. After a few minutes, it seemed fairly obvious that the sounds weren’t moving so Peeta finally broke the silence surrounding you all and crawled over closer to you. Crouching next to you, he leaned in to whisper while keeping his eyes averted up toward the trees.

“Do we investigate?”

“I’d rather know who it is and where they are. Ignorance will get us killed here.”

“Right,” Peeta agreed easily, looking back up to Rue. He moved away from you, approaching her tree. You could hear the leaves rustling above you, then murmured voices as Peeta likely told Rue the plan. You kept an eye in the direction you knew to be where the person was, listening intently past the rustling and murmurs to hear the continuous splashing and curses. Once Peeta reinstates himself next to you then you feel free to finally move, leading the way through the bushes.

It takes a bit of poking and prodding through, but eventually, you find yourself crouching behind the last row of bushes, peering through the middle to see a boy standing at the river. He had a rather well-carved fishing spear, which he was using to jam into the water and pull back up. Every time he pulled up empty he’d mutter another curse, then move to the side and try again. You and Peeta watch him fish up three nicely-sized fish, and with each one he turned and tossed them into a woven basket set on the ground nearby.

“Steal or?” Peeta’s voice was whispering, trying his best to minimize the noise. Due to this, he was pressed close to your side, his mouth near your ear. You contemplate his question. If you stole it and ran, he’d likely give chase. With that fishing spear, which he seems to wield competently, then he could likely reach you from farther than you’re likely to reach with just your small knife. Likewise, the same if you decided to fight. The best course of action could be a distraction since there are two of you and one of him.

“Why does he need so many fish?” You couldn’t help asking the question before it even crossed your mind, and you tried to think of a reason why, after at least three fish, he still stood there and tried to catch yet another one. “Is he not alone?”

“I don’t see anyone. If he isn’t alone then now would be the best chance we have.”

“I don’t want you to have to kill another tribute.” You felt Peeta’s hand rest against your upper arm, then as he pulls you lean into it, falling against his chest.

“Then I won’t.”

“It can’t be that easy, Peeta.”

“We can just steal it and run, no harm no foul.”

“He’d give chase. If something happened- if either of us were in danger- then you would kill him.” He remained quiet and you sighed, watching the boy catch yet another fish to add to the pile. “You said so yourself earlier.”

“And I meant it,” Peeta mumbled, nuzzling his face into your neck. “But if you don’t want me to kill him then I won’t.”

“That’s not what I said,” You sighed, leaning your head backwards against his shoulder. “I don’t want you to have to kill him. If it comes down to it, I’d rather you kill him than risk yourself.” You could feel Peeta’s chuckles against your back.

“You’re kinda giving me mixed signals here, Y/N.”

“Well, maybe there’s a way we can steal them without him even noticing.”

“I think he’d notice if his dinner disappeared.”

“Before he noticed.”

You both raised your heads at the same time, studying the boy across the way. An idea pops into your head, and you tense up against Peeta. Slowly he slid his arms around your shoulders, pulling you back more and making it more visible that he was holding you. You couldn’t see his face, but he was tensing slowly too.

“I had a thought.”

“Me too,” You admitted quietly, hesitantly. Peeta waited a moment before leaning down into your ear.

“If we make a spectacle of this then we can gain sponsors. He’s small, and he’ll need to die eventually anyway.” You turn your head toward his, finally meeting his serious eyes.

“I had the same thought, but slightly different.” You bit your lip, leaning close to his ear sensually, “If we played up our relationship, and took him out together, then the sponsors might go crazy for that.” You back up to meet his eyes again, seeing the hesitancy that you felt earlier.

“Do you think you could do that?”

“Can you?”

You both waited for the other pin to drop, but nothing else came to mind. Making a spectacle over killing a boy seemed so heartless, so unthinkable. How would you even go about that? On the other hand, you both were probably already known for your caring nature. If you went against something like that, would they see through the obvious ploy?

“So, what? Go out there and laugh? Joke around with each other?” His eyebrows drew further and further downward, finally shaking his head. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Trade,” You whisper, turning to look at him again. “We could always just go out there, ask for some of the food. Maybe offer something in trade. If he accepts, then we’ll have what we were looking for anyway. If he refuses and tries to attack, then we just fight back- that’s when we’d play up our relationship. How dare he attack the other.”

“Act like we’re not looking to fight?”

“I mean, we’re not.” He raised an eyebrow toward you and you sigh, looking away. “Could just go back to plan A. Steal and run.”

“Plan B, fight and make a spectacle,” Peeta continues as if listing off options. You decide to finish it.

“Plan C, ask for a trade.”

“They all seem plausible. Could even do them all. C, A, B.”

“Plan cab. Perfect.” The sarcasm was evident in your tone, but you felt Peeta shrug against you. You sigh again, looking back at him.

“I can ask-”

“You’re not going there alone.” He stares into your eyes for a few moments, and you could hear a cheer coming from the boy a bit away from you. You both look over to see him hauling up a huge fish, watching it flop back and forth. The boy almost loses grip on his spear from the effort of the fish, but eventually lands it on the grass next to his woven basket. You use this opportunity, pushing to stand and exiting the brush. He doesn’t notice you when you exit, nor does he notice as you begin to approach. Even standing ten feet away he seems too enamoured with the fish he had caught- one of those piranha mutts that had followed you and Peeta down the river. “Excuse me?”

The boy jumps up quickly, trying to swing his spear to face you, however he hadn’t anticipated the spear still being stuck to the fish. His hands slip and he loses grip on his spear, the wooden stick waving slightly in the air before remaining upright, still stuck in the giant fish on the ground. “Who are you? Don’t come any closer!”

“Don’t worry,” You heard Peeta behind you, and turn to see him only a step behind you. You take a step back to stand next to him, taking his hand in yours. He smiles briefly at you before looking imploringly toward the boy. “We’re not here to kill you. We’ll leave all that to the careers but-”

“Go away then!” The boy yanks his spear out finally, taking a step back and aiming the sharp bit toward you.

“But,” You continue, glancing down at his basket and then back to him, “We’re hungry. We’re not good at fishing like you. We could offer you something in trade-”

“No!” The boy yelled out, jabbing the spear toward you. He was still a good few feet back, but he was trying his best to look intimidating. “These fish are mine! I need them!”

“All of them?” Peeta asks, attempting a small step forward with his free hand held out in submission, “Toby, listen. Just a few. Three, that’s all.”

“Get back!” Toby lunges forward and you pull Peeta quickly back by his hand, though Toby still ended up nowhere near him. You took a breath, looking around the area quickly. Looking back at Toby, you see him doing the same.

“We can trade-”

“Get back or I’ll send my friends after you!” You hesitate at that, watching Peeta immediately scan the area more thoroughly.

“Friends?”

“The careers! I’ll send them after you!”

“You’re friends with the careers? Which one?” As Peeta speaks his eyes are constantly scanning around the two of you, even turning around to watch your back.

“With the- with…” The boy trails off, the tip of his spear dipping before he realizes it. Lifting it back toward you, he growls out, “It doesn’t matter! They’ll let me in with this haul of food and then they’ll protect me. From you!”

“Do you really think the careers need food?” You remember back to the previous Hunger Games you were forced to watch. Anyone who managed to capture the cornucopia had almost an endless supply of food. “They have all they need, they’re not going to want-”

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

“Look Toby,” Peeta begins again, locking eyes with the boy and trying that small step forward again. “We just want to make a deal. You can fish up more, we’ll leave and you won’t have to see us again.”

It looked as if Peeta’s words finally struck something in Toby as the boy paused, looking at the two of you with a peculiar look. You were hesitant, trying to pull Peeta back toward you but he wouldn’t listen, instead taking a step to the side to half-block your form. When Toby finally speaks he’s quiet, as if only just speaking to himself. “No, you’re right. If you leave I won’t see you again. You’ll be watching and waiting to ambush me and I won’t see you coming.” There was silence, a stillness that lasted for much too long. Then, action.

Toby had lunged forward again, this time far enough to possibly stab through Peeta. Peeta had, instead, let go of your hand and dodged to the side, shouldering Toby to knock him down. He caught himself and turned to face Peeta, and you finally were able to spur yourself into action. The knife that had been in your hand this whole time- you had practically forgotten about it, like an extension of your arm- slid into a firmer grip as you raised it up.

“Peeta!” You call out loudly, shooting a desperate look over to him. You could see the recognition in his eyes, how you were playing it up for the cameras before you finally lock back on Toby and pounced toward him. “Get away from him!” Toby didn’t anticipate your actions, scrambling to swing his spear toward you. By the time he managed to aim it in your direction, you were close enough that his long spear was practically useless. You swiped your knife against his arms, his chest, anything you could reach. He kept pushing against you, eventually managing to kick a foot out and trip you backwards.

You gain your bearings in time to see Toby standing above you, spear aimed at your throat. You hear your name called, then watch as Peeta full-body tackles Toby to the side. You sit up quickly, seeing the two of them wrestle around on the ground nearby the river. This was coming alarmingly close to what had happened earlier, and you weren’t willing to let Peeta fall into the river again. You jumped up as quickly as you could, walking over to watch the wrestling. Toby finally drops his spear to the side to grab both hands on Peeta, attempting to push him off. That was your chance.

“Don’t you dare hurt my love!” You reach down and snatch the spear, watching as it seems neither boy had heard your shout. You aim, then wait for the right moment, which was difficult with Peeta wrestling on top of him. Toby manages to free a hand, throwing a punch across Peeta’s face. Certainly not the worst he’s been hurt, but you call out anyway. “Peeta!” You reach forward to place a hand on his shoulder, and he immediately jumps back off of Toby. You step forward, placing the tip of the spear against his throat.

Your face falls. This was it, the moment you would have to kill someone on purpose. Sure, you had done it once before on accident. But- this was cold blood. Damn it all. “I’m sorry,” You couldn’t help but whisper as you pressed it in deeper.

“Y/N,” You heard whispered behind you, Peeta placing his hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to-”

“He hurt you Peeta,” You interrupted, emotion colouring your voice. You didn’t even have to try and conjure them by thinking something else, you didn’t want to be in this situation in the first place. Tears began springing to your eyes. “He said it himself, he could follow us and ambush us when we don’t notice.”

“I can do it, Y/N, just give me the spear,” Peeta continues in a quiet voice, walking up behind you and reaching his arms around your form. His arms followed yours, and if this were some other time or some other universe it might be him showing you how to do something, telling you to follow his movements. But here, right now, he was trying to take the spear from you to kill the boy himself.

Toby lay there, frightened and wide-eyed, like a deer in the headlights. You gulp, raising the spear up slowly. You acted as if you were handing the spear to him, but you watched Toby carefully. His eyes flicked to the spear, to your legs, then back up to you. When you lifted the spear enough, Toby threw out a kick. You had been expecting it, having firmed your stance, but Peeta hadn’t. Peeta was tripped, falling backwards away from you, and you tightened your hold on the spear and drove it downward.

The image of the spear piercing his throat would stay locked in your mind forever. The blood pooled around the stick, the gurgling sound as he tried to breathe. You covered your mouth and backed away, tears falling from your eyes. Turning, panicking, you search for Peeta. He was mid-stand as you turn, standing and rushing to take you into his arms. He pulls you against his chest, petting your hair. “Sh, it’ll be okay.”

“I did it, I killed him.” Your statement was proven by the sound of a cannon in the air, making you visibly flinch.

“Y/N,” Peeta spoke your name softly, and then you could feel him take a deep breath. He was bracing himself. He slowly pulled you back, ducking his head to meet your eyes. “Did you-” He bit his lip, and you would’ve tried to help him along if you knew what he was trying to ask. “Did you call me love earlier?” You widened your eyes for the show, eyes darting around anywhere but at him.

“I-I-”

“Do you love me?” You take a deep breath, meeting his eyes. You slowly raise your hands to cup his cheeks, talking low so it felt like it was only for him, though loud enough for whatever bugs were around to hear.

“Of course I love you Peeta. More than the Capital loves their tributes.” He smiles wide and bright, then pulls you forward.

Oh. He was kissing you. This certainly wasn’t your first kiss- having had that back in the cave (or wherever you had been during those memories you don’t have)- but it certainly wasn’t a kiss to scoff at. He had taken hold of your cheeks and pulled you close, kissing as if this was the last chance he would get. It was intense, and even if you knew he was just playing this up for the cameras, you decided to enjoy it anyway. He certainly seemed to be.

“Gross,” You hear next to you, and you break apart with a gasp, turning to look. Rue stood there next to you, trying to hold back a grin and she looks between you and Peeta. You glance briefly to meet Peeta’s eyes before finally turning and running toward Rue.

“Oh, Rue! I’m so glad you’re safe!” You call out, falling to your knees to hug her close to yourself. You turn your head to bury in her hair, whispering softly, “We were playing it up for the sponsors. They’re watching.” Backing up, you place your hands on either side of her own face. It felt almost as if you were in your mother’s place, looking down at the eyes of innocence. Rue’s face fell instantly, and you worried for a moment that you had done something wrong.

“Oh, Y/N!” Rue jumped forward, wrapping her arms around your shoulders, but talking almost louder than necessary. “I was so worried when he jabbed that spear at you! Don’t ever leave me again!” You felt Rue bury her head in your neck, then felt vibrations shake her body. Was she laughing?

“We have a good haul, at least,” Peeta calls out, walking over in front of you and dropping the basket. “We should probably take this somewhere else to cook, but we finally have food for Rue.”

“Good,” You respond, nodding up toward him. “I was worried.” Rue pulled back, wiping her face as if wiping away tears- though you saw nothing glistening on her cheeks.

“Did you grab that- that really big one? It was huge!”

“Yeah,” You began instead, looking up at Peeta, then over to Rue, “I don’t know exactly how healthy those things would be for us. Those were the mutts that were chasing Peeta and me earlier.”

“Oh-”

“It’s fine though, there’s plenty enough here for us. Honestly, if there were any more I think it’d just go to waste. Would spoil before we could get to it.”

“You’re right though,” You stood, taking Rue’s hand. You watch Peeta lean down, picking up the basket and wielding the fishing spear in his other hand. “We should find someplace else to cook those.”

#peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark x you #peeta mellark #gender neutral reader #tribute reader #rue hunger games #rue barnette #oc: toby #the hunger games #fanfiction #also posted on archive of our own #ever in our favour #in the arena

108 notes · View notes

stormblessed95 · 10 months

Note

Hiii stormie my dear, how are you? first of all, i wanted to say that i adore your blog and i think u are a breath of fresh air here. Thank you! Because i trust u, I wanted to say some things im thinking about since seven released, i hope u dont mind.

Ok, like jk says: lets get it! Right, I do understand people feeling sad about jimin and face era. It was awful how sabotaged he was, and i still dont get what really happened and i'm mad to whatever or whoever is responsible for it. But i'm seeing so many people doubting the veracity in jungkookie's success with seven and i'm hating it. I dont think the song is getting payola, nor playlists by paying for it and neither ads on youtube. First, the song was sent to radios, but just a few of them r playing it, one of them being a guy who loves to plays "k-pop" songs. If there was payola, it would be playing everywhere all the time already. The playlist thing: just like "like crazy eng. ver", seven entered the Today's Top Hits playlist. But at #23 place. I just saw a tweet by a guy talking about this: https://twitter.com/cantorpedia/status/1680258574688088066?s=20. We know that there's some shady thing happening in this playlist for a while, and if seven have deals to get this high debut numbers, it would had debuted at the top in the playlist, even in the cover (it may go up next week, because there is supposed to be some internal logic that the more a song receives streams IN the playlist, the more it rises). Also, seven had a huge filtering in spotify, just like all BTS' songs, which also shows that they r not making deals. Now, about Youtube ads... i saw a person posting a ss about seeing an ad of the song, but apparently is fake.

Seven is doing AWESOME numbers because: its a english catchy song, with a cute mv, sang by THEE Jeon Jungkook. Im not joking, seven is really a gp success.. yesterday i saw 3 people from my daily life and inner circle talking about loving the song. My sister, who is not an army, said that she listened to the song all day while i was not home. Gp is loving it. So they did with butter (which is a eng song too), but Seven has a differential: the clean and explict version r being counted combined. Plus, seven is doing awesome everywhere, even in korean charts.

If there was something shady going on, i dont think they would make more than 1 version for the song, even on youtube (there is a new perfomance video for the explict ver). They would just send to radios and count on the payola and the deals w spotify, tiktok, youtube, for the charts (thats what most western artists does). But since billboard started filtering the songs so much so that made like crazy drop from 1 to 45 in a week and then stopped counting digital versions from usa based artist stores, BTS had to start making available to fans different versions of the same song because they know they cant count on radio, but can count on the sales and streams. Since Like Crazy, i feel like Hybe is experimenting ways of overcoming the sabotage by the industry.

The thing is, i think we can and should talk and raise questions about how jimin was treated badly, in every chart and streaming platform. For example, views from youtube were not being frozen in Yoongi's songs too, just like jk's. So, its not a privilege that jk is receiving, its just that something was really happening with face promotions, who knows what and why. But that was not jk's or any member fault.

Anyway, i'm happy for jk and i know much more is coming his way. And i cant wait for jimin to make a new comeback soon too. I hope it all goes well yk, Jimin deserves the best in his promotions just like jk and the other members. Lets hope. I'm sorry for hijacking your tumblr for this rant, im hoping u have some thoughts on the subject

Rant shared. I shared my thoughts about most of this a few weeks ago, I'm sure anyone who wants to can still scroll to go find it all, I'm not *really* wanting to open it all back up for discussion again. People are VILE honestly. I enjoy the song, it's fun, it's not much more than that and it's clearly made to be a western audience radio hit. Jungkook deserves and has my full support though! 💜 thanks for sharing

#jungkook seven

37 notes · View notes

unendingwanderlust · 10 months

Text

RATING: G

WARNINGS: None.

RELATIONSHIPS: Gimli/Legolas, Thranduil/Wife

WORD COUNT: 851

SUMMARY: This year, Eryn Lasgalen hosts the Midsummer festivities. Legolas has misplaced his husband among the crowd, and he is not the only one...

NOTES: I finally had time to catch up on my to-read list but AO3 has been down all day. Here's the result. Inspired by fellowshipofthefics's Summer Stories. Prompts used: Summer festival, Ice-cold drinks, Campfire Bonfire. Enjoy!

Whenever Eryn Lasgalen hosts the Midsummer festival, Thranduil pulls out all the stops. Legolas suspects that his father both enjoys the grandiose display and wants to rub it in Thorin’s face that his celebrations are better in every conceivable way.

Hand-painted lanterns hang from boughs, illuminating a path to the gazebo. The music flows like fine wine. Elves, men, and dwarves mingle in conversation, merriment, and dance. Nearby, the bonfire reaches the night sky, filling the air with the aroma of burning wood.

Legolas weaves through the sea of people, making small talk until he finally spots a familiar face.

Thranduil waves him over with a graceful motion. Tonight they match: Legolas adorned his hair with orchids and violets, the same Thranduil chose for his crown.

“Have you seen your mother?” Thranduil takes two goblets of ice cold tea from the table: one jasmine and one hibiscus. The latter finds its way to Legolas. “She had forgotten her pipeweed on the nightstand, but she has been gone since after dessert. I suspect she did not get lost on the way to her own halls.”

Legolas takes a sip. The tea owes its sweetness to a generous spoonful of honey. Whoever had the idea to add mint and raspberries deserves both praise and a raise. His eyes roam in search of his own spouse, but good luck finding a dwarf among the celebrating elves and men. “No. Come to think of it, Gimli disappeared too.”

“I cannot say I saw him since your dance.”

“Maybe they were eaten by spiders,” Legolas grins at the sheer ridiculousness of it. Even if he received news that his mother and husband lost their way beneath the oaks back in the days of the Shadow, he would not worry in the least. Gimli is fearsome with his axe and Laergliriel is a notorious First Age veteran. A few giant spiders would not even make them sweat.

Thranduil snorts. “Your mother. Eaten by spiders.”

“You are right,” Legolas wrinkles his nose. “She is too crisp for their tastes.”

“True. Besides,” Thranduil leans closer in conspiratory fashion and lowers his voice, “rumor has it that every pleat in her dress hides a different weapon.”

“Rumor? She does carry Eryn Lasgalen’s entire armory everywhere she goes. In case of emergency, of course.”

A sweet laugh rings through the night from afar; his mother’s laugh, familiar and beloved. That is one mystery solved.

Laergliriel’s dress, chosen by his father as she never cared for fashion, drapes over her like liquid gold. Her flower crown boasts something very familiar that Legolas cannot place; all he knows is that it is not of elvish make. She balances her smoking pipe between her fingers while her other hand sinks into a pocket.

“I only have Old Toby on me,” she says. “I hope that is all right.”

“More than all right, my lady,” Gimli accepts the proffered leather pouch. “You are my savior.”

There he was all along! Buttercups and forget-me-nots decorate the braids in Gimli’s beard and hair instead of gems tonight. His own flower crown is identical to the ones Legolas received when he was too young to weave his own.

“Am I, now?” Laergliriel replies. “I will try not to remind you every day from now on.”

“Neither lost nor eaten by spiders after all,” Thranduil concludes.

Legolas pretends to pay attention to his own conversation, but that went out of the window as soon as he spotted his husband. Gimli stuffs his pipe and lights it; mundane motions that should not fascinate Legolas nearly as much, and yet they do beneath the magic of Midsummer’s stars.

Laergliriel says something in Khuzdul. Gimli roars his hearty laugh. He moves the conversation forward in the same language until his eyes lock with Legolas’s. The world stops for both of them.

Gimli recovers first, shooting him a wink. Legolas catches the glint of white teeth beneath his beard and resists the urge to hide a shy smile in his goblet. His husband is handsome; more handsome than any being on Arda has any right to be. It is no wonder even one look has Legolas’s heart racing.

“And then, a group of oliphaunts stampeded into my throne room. Their leader invited me to waltz with him,” Thranduil deadpans. “One thing led to another and we will be eloping within the next moon.”

Legolas hears the drone of his father’s voice but cannot make out the words. He nods anyway. “Mhm. You are right.”

“Legolas.”

This time, Legolas turns to his father. “Yes?”

Thranduil’s mouth quirks into an amused smirk. “Just go to him.”

Face flushed not due to the summer heat, Legolas picks up a second goblet of hibiscus tea. Gimli used to grumble about how much he hated it until Legolas noticed how quickly the jar emptied and called him out on it. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, and I am coming with you because I must remind my wife that she owes me a dance,” Thranduil smooths down the silver satin of his robes. “How is my hair?”

#eden writes #fanfiction #fanfic #fotfics #gimleaf #gigolas #gimli x legolas #legolas #gimli #thranduil #oc: laergliriel

30 notes · View notes

dent-de-leon · 6 months

Text

@garnetgh0st Oh yes, definitely! They're facing the same trauma from polar opposite ends, but I think it's just tragic that they ultimately still feel the same--in the end, they both just want to bring their families back.

For Caleb, family is...everything. He tries so hard to protect the Nein and keep them all together because the family he had before is already gone. Because he can't bear to lose anyone else. And it pains him when someone is fortunate enough to still have a loving family, yet pushes them away."Young man, you do not take your mother's love for granted." He'd give anything to get that back.

And yet, even though Caleb believes so firmly in family and prioritizes his at every chance--he knows not everyone was raises by parents like his. He was there when Beau faced her father, when she was finally given a bit of the justice she deserved after years. More than that, Caleb knows what it's like to be a child that was taken advantage of; someone abused and tormented by his own mentor, betrayed and used, turned into weapon. He's still haunted by all the people he was coerced into torturing and killing under Trent's influence.

And Lucien was much the same. The only difference is, his parents weren't victims--they were complicit in all of it. His father giving him lists of names, targets to lure to a witch in the woods. Forcing his child to pay the price for his devil's bargain, staining his hands with the blood of countless victims.

And all the while, Lucien loathed and regretted every moment of it, always looking for an escape, a way out of this hell. Before he became another empty husk, the witch's next puppet:

"'We did owe her. Mum and Da did, I mean, but I was the one who paid that blood price.' I'm not surprised you remember the way. His stomach lurched. 'I'd…lure folk out to her cottage. Da would hand me a little paper slip, and whoever it said, I'd convince them to come along, get them near her cottage, and she would charm them. You saw what happens after that.'"

"'We were punished for seeing what they couldn't. After a while I couldn't let it go on, couldn't look at myself or live with myself, so I burned down the caravan with all three of them inside, took my sister, and that was that...No more little songs. No more farces.'"

And when Lucien is finally free of the witch who tormented him for so long? He just...doesn't know what to do. He's still shaken by the trauma of all the deaths he'd seen, all the faces that still haunt him. He doesn't believe she could just be dead, that he could ever really be free of this nightmare so easily. For a moment, was he gutted by the realization that she was gone so easily, and yet Lucien had already lost all his family? That she'd taken so much from him he'd never get back, and any taste of revenge left him terribly empty?

I think it's likely Caleb might have felt a bit similar, when he finally escaped Trent for good, and yet was still coping with his trauma in the aftermath. Grappling with everything he'd lost to get here, and trying so hard to believe that perhaps he and his loved ones would finally be free of this monster.

As for Lucien's parents--"After a while I couldn't let it go on, couldn't look at myself or live with myself"--when Lucien finally decides to end it all, his breaking point sounds a lot like Caleb's own breakdown when he realizes his parents are gone. "But it didn't exactly go according to plan, because as soon as I heard my mother and father screaming inside...I was so sure. I was so sure. Until I wasn't, and...I broke a bit..."

I don't think Caleb would be a stranger to Lucien's immense self-loathing and guilt, even though they both lost their families for very different reasons. I feel like Caleb would probably pity him; Lucien never even got the chance to have a happy family, to experience the childhood and memories that Caleb so treasured and lost. All Lucien has is empty promises from higher powers he can scarcely understand, otherworldly beings who are still just using him; the hollow comfort of a dream, a fantasy. And I think it's his desperation to bring them back, even if it means tearing reality apart at the seams, that Caleb would find so painfully familiar:

Lucien going all the way to Cognouza because he thinks it could give him the fantasy of a loving, happy family. Caleb following Lucien to Aeor and stumbling upon the one thing that could bring his parents back--they both find what they've always wanted, are both tempted by it more than anything. And when Lucien has that chance, he seizes it immediately--even as he destroys himself, spiraling beyond all recognition.

He's exactly what Caleb would've become if he never had the Mighty Nein, never had the chance to escape and heal. "Anybody can make lights. Anybody can send a message through a wire. I want to bend reality to my will." They're both so desperate for the same thing, the same impossible dream--willing to do anything to make it a reality. I think they'd understand each other on a level perhaps no one else in the Nein could; they both started the fire, but then they spent years still consumed by those flames.

I think Lucien and Caleb mirror each other in a lot of ways. And it makes me happy that, through Molly, they were able to help each other heal in some way. And I really love how Molly/King gets to have the family now that Lucien always wanted--Caleb telling Kingsley to stick with them, admitting that he Nein have a fondness for "strays." I like to think he and King are still close, and maybe one day, Caleb will be there to help Kingsley reach out to the last of his family in Rexxentrum--

#I MEANT TO ANSWER THIS SOONER IM SORRY--#anyway...ya...caleb and lucien parallels still hurt me #lucien tavelle #mollymauk #caleb widogast #lucien is tragic to me because even though his parents were so awful...he still wants his family back more than anything #because he thinks he can “fix it” the way molly tries to in choir practice #but even if he did bring them back #it wouldnt change how much they've hurt him #yet lucien is still so desperate for their affection--#and i think caleb would really feel for him in spite of how different their circumstances are

16 notes · View notes

halloweenbitch2764 · 2 years

Text

It's A Scream, Baby!

Chapter Five

Part Four

Tags: @slxsher-whxre @deadpoetsandhoney @simpfo @robin-the-enby @slasher-lovers-blog @wallywaffle @ayyxitsme @voidsunflower14 @katerinaval @marisughh @ihavenoidea692 @kpopslur @gothicxbarbie

Billy Loomis x Fem! Reader x Stu Macher

I looked up and saw none other than Stu. He looked worried which felt odd considering that even though I didn't know him long, he seemed to just always have a smile on his face and a playful attitude. Before I had a chance to answer, Tatum started.

"What do you think? She nearly got killed last night and then the media swarmed her today!" She seemed exasperated that Stu dared ask how I was and it made me chuckle softly.

"He's fine for asking." I reassured her before turning to Stu. "I'm just tired. Paranoid. The usual that comes with someone breaking into your house after taunting you on the phone." I was honest with how I felt, opting to tell him instead of just saying I was fine and moving on. He nodded sympathetically. Even though he couldn't relate he could imagine the mental pain.

Sidney smiled, surprised at the fact that I actually told what I was feeling. It would have been easier to say I was fine and move along. "What did he even ask you?" Stu questioned. I didn't notice Billy send him a death glare while silently praying I wasn't paying close attention to what he said. Lucky for me, and unlucky for him, I was. I raised my eyebrow. "How did you know it was a guy?" I questioned curiously. I didn't really think he had any involvement and it was more to tease him. Stu froze for a second before rebutting. "Well just from the way whoever it is acts, I would think they were a guy." He nonchalantly responded. Tatum raised her eyebrow. "Are you saying it couldn't have been a girl?" She sounded offended. I couldn't tell if it was real or just being playful.

Stu shrugged. "Didn't say it couldn't have been. It's just my professional opinion." He grinned at his last sentence. Tatum rolled her eyes. "A girl would probably not be caught so quick. We know how to get blood out quite easily." I giggled and watched as the wheels turned in Stu's head while he figured out what she meant. It clicked and he laughed causing Tatum to roll her eyes again but smile nonetheless.

"I can't believe Casey is dead." I sighed. As I said, I never was close to her since I had just started the school but she always was friendly to me. "She probably deserved it." Billy quietly piped up. I almost didn't catch it amongst the loud chatter of the hallway. Sidney heard since she was standing next to him and smacked his arm. "The hell do you mean 'she deserved it'?!" Sidney seemed angry. I couldn't blame her. What gave me any more right then Casey to live, much less be killed? "She was never anything but nice to me-" "Yeah but you only talked to her a couple times." Billy interjected. I sighed. He did have a point. Not that it would make me agree that she deserved death. "Still." I said and crossed my arms. The warning bell rang signaling there was five minutes till class started. I turned to my locker and started to get everything together. Billy and Sidney headed off, presumably to their homeroom. I wasn't much for conversation so Tatum and Stu made their way off to do whatever it was that they were doing.

Though, something in the back of my mind kept nagging me that the incident wasn't a one time thing.

#billy loomis x reader x stu macher #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis #billy x reader x stu #stu macher x reader #stu macher #its a scream baby #scream #x reader #slasher series #slasher fandom #slasher fanfiction #simping for slasher

103 notes · View notes

canis-or-cannotis-lycaon · 8 months

Text

TIMING: Last week LOCATION: Downtown PARTIES: Gael (@lithium-argon-wo-l-f and Van (@vanoincidence SUMMARY: While walking down the street, Gael and Van run into each other. She tries to give him his $20 back. CONTENT WARNINGS: self harm (implied)

For a while longer, Van would pretend. Pretend that she was a normal girl in a normal town. She’d allow herself that much, because anything else was too damning to recognize as real. To exist plainly was the best thing she could do for herself at this point, especially when every sign was pointing to the unexplained phenomena. There were people who cast doubt on her, and in turn caused her to question her own existence within Wicked’s Rest. Who she was, and what she had to offer it were two completely different things, especially when looking over the fact that the town was weird as hell.

But none of that mattered right now! Because she had the lunch shift, which meant instead of leaving around three in the morning, she was hauling ass out of Sly Slice at just before seven. The sun was still pitched high behind some cloud coverage, but at least there wasn’t any rain. Van ventured down the street, board tucked beneath her arm. Her car was still out of commission which meant she was getting her steps in, and her calves toned. She barely registered Gael as she passed him, but she came to a sudden stop, jabbing her index finger through the air at him. “I have your twenty dollars.” She untucked it from her back pocket in an old wallet made of duct tape and shoved it at him. It was a little wrinkled and one of the sides was minorly ripped, but it was twenty bucks! “I’m paying you back, and you can’t say no.” She had planned to do so once seeing him again, but only because she had felt extremely guilty, and really, she didn’t feel as though she deserved any help. Especially not now when everything was falling apart.

—

Another day, another easygoing time at the University. Gael only had one class that day, which worked for him since he was rather looking forward to taking a leisurely walk home, maybe picking up some tasty snack and dropping by the bookstore on the way home, hoping to get a book for Ren or something, he hadn’t gotten that far yet.

And he didn’t have to. He was in no hurry, the weather was nice (though it smelled like rain to him) and to commemorate how he felt, Gael raised his arms above his head, stretched them and yawned. There were two things he was unaware of as he did this, the first of which being that he had a habit of sticking his tongue out nowadays when he yawned and the second was that he completely missed someone walking past him though a familiar scent mixed in with the humidity in the air.

It wasn’t until Gael had lowered his arms again that whoever it was apparently stopped and addressed him. He turned as a girl talked to him and his brown eyes fell on Van once more. “Oh hey!” He chirped before he could register that she was pushing a bill towards him. Understandably, his brow furrowed slightly as he glanced down at the money. “Wait, why can’t I say no?” He asked, quirking his brow at her but not actually taking the money yet. “It was a gift; you don’t have to pay me back.”

—

“Because, I don’t want to be indebted to you.” She had learned a lot about debt and what it could do to somebody through her parents. Maybe not in the way that Wicked’s Rest spoke about debts or anything of the like, but still. Van didn’t want to have the weight of Gael’s kindness sink her anymore than it already had. She couldn’t stop thinking about his kindness, which in itself warranted several therapy appointments in its own right, but now wasn’t the time to focus on that!

“And because I want to.” Because she didn’t deserve his kindness, not really. Van didn’t particularly like adults butting their heads into her life, mostly because they always felt that they knew better. Maybe sometimes they did, but Van wasn’t sure that right now, they did. She wanted to separate herself from needy child and the adult she now was, even if she still felt like a toddler in too big of clothing; rushed to grow up for the sake of those around her. She hated the feeling, but still. “So just take it.”

His brow still furrowed in evident confusion, Gael paused for a moment; how would he have reacted if the roles were reversed? He was taught that if you rejected a gift then it was insulting to whoever gave it to you. However, that was him and Van seemed vehement on returning it. Did she not need it? Was he presumptuous in thinking that she could’ve used it for that time she wasn’t getting paid at the pizza place? Or perhaps she was proud and thought that by giving her money, she thought he was taking pity on her?

— Regardless of the reason, after a small sigh escaped from him, Gael took the bill and he gave her an earnest expression. “Okay.” He said softly before he tilted his head slightly. “Have you been doing okay?” He asked, regarding her recent stint of eating hay, arguing with someone about Red Bull online and the dark circles under her eyes that gave his some competition.

—

Gael looked confused, and maybe Van would feel a little bad about it if she weren’t so confused by the world around her. She had spent so much time alone lately that it was getting harder to talk to people, even when she knew exactly what she wanted to say. But Gael was an adult, and obviously he would understand her intentions weren’t venomous, right?

He finally took the twenty dollars from her and she breathed a sigh of relief. It did feel like a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. “I’ve been… great.” That was a blatant lie, and anybody who actually paid attention knew it was bullshit, but she didn’t want to worry Gael. “I’m doing a lot better now that I don’t want hay.” That in itself was still a weird situation she still wasn’t sure how to explain, but she was just glad that the itch to eat every piece of hay she came across was no longer an issue.

— “I’m glad that you’re doing better but…” Gael stuttered his sentence to a stop; should he pry into her business? She was kind of chaotic but that didn’t necessarily mean that she didn’t know what she was doing, right? He internally debated as he scanned the look on her face and the pause in her initial statement, trying to discern if her body language was accurately reflecting what was happening inside her. At last, Gael’s expression softened and he tried to alter his stance a little bit, making himself more casual and approachable, which wasn’t too hard considering he still looked like he walked out from the nearest thrift store with their second-best-looking shirt on. “You know, if there’s something bothering you that you can talk to me, right?” He asked, tilting his head as he gave her an earnest gaze. “I know we’ve only met a few times and I don’t mean to force myself onto whatever you have going on but I’m… here if you’d like to talk.”

—

“There’s nothing bothering me.” Her entire life was bothering her. Sleep was getting harder, but it was all she wanted to do. Every waking moment was agony, and the only reason she could even get through any of it was because of the games on her stupid phone. Van was surprised she hadn’t cracked the screen yet with the ferocity at which she held it during the most intense battles. But it wasn’t like Gael, or anyone else for that matter, needed to know what Van was going through. It was a waste of time. For them, and for her.

“It’s fine. Nothing’s bothering me.” This conversation was lasting too long, she decided. She wanted to leave, to get back to what she was doing before this, but she couldn’t even remember what that was. Sucking in a breath, she decided to try and put in some effort. “Ren lives with you, right? She’s my friend. She draws really cool things.” Pushing the subject of somebody else would be better, right? Easier to evade conversation about herself. “She’s really cool.” Do you know she helped murder somebody? The question sat at the back of her mind. Had Ren told somebody? Were they all to be doomed?

—

She didn’t want to talk about it. Gael had spent enough time with kids her age to know when would be a good time to gently pry and when to let things go - most of the time, when he disengaged himself, some time would pass before they wanted to revisit it on their own. Maybe that would work here. Instead, Van brought up Ren and Gael pulled out his wallet to place the bill inside it with a small nod and a smile. “Yeah! I really admire her art, I think it’s amazing. She’s got a lot of skills. And now that you mention it, I remember her getting excited when I told her that you and I talked about worms briefly that one time; I just now learned that she likes gummy worms.” He filled what might’ve been an awkward silence before an equally-as-awkward separation of the two parties with a version of small talk he hoped would suffice for her. “Did you just get off work? You seemed in a hurry, am I keeping you?” He asked.

—

Gael seemed delighted to talk about Ren. That was a good thing, right? Van wasn’t sure what it was with this town and its adults trying to adopt wayward children, or why there were so many of them in the first place (not that she was admitting she was a child, but in the grand scheme of things, she might as well have been). “She’s really smart, too. Knows a lot about bugs.” Van never really knew what Ren was talking about when it came to bugs, but it didn’t matter. She was just happy that her friend seemed interested in something.

“I got them for her once, now she says they are her favorite.” It often went missed by Van; the impact that she could have on another’s life. She oftentimes ignored it, favoring to wallow in a certain misery that could be cast upon hermits. “Work? No, I’m not…” She had worked today. That was right. The earlier shift. Rocky had taken her off of the night because she mixed up the marinara sauce with the ketchup. They weren’t even supposed to have ketchup, they were a pizza place. “I’m not… busy, or in a hurry. I’m just vibing.” Because that wasn’t necessarily a lie. “Walking and vibing, because…” She looked around them, “because I do that. I like the outdoors as much as anyone else.” Another lie. She hated being outside.

—

“She is. I’m fond of her.” Gael inhaled and placed one of his hands in his pockets, the other hanging onto the strap of his messenger back in its familiar pattern. Van didn’t want to be here. That was evident by how quickly she made her way to… where she was going, or perhaps away from wherever she had come. She also very obviously had something on her mind, or maybe she was trying desperately to push something out of it. It was an assignment of uncertainties as Gael tried to parse through which ones it might’ve been but not confident enough in his assessment to ask her either way. He just knew that between the hay, her everlasting frustration at Janice and the tirade she went on about worms in the trees recently, she obviously had a lot on her mind. He wasn’t helping by keeping her trapped in a loop of small talk. “Sorry to bother you. Um… Can I give you a ride to wherever you were going?” Gael asked, pointing a finger over his shoulder. “My car’s not too far away and it’s really no trouble. I don’t mean to keep you.”

—

It impressed her, the speed at which people her age found themselves replacement parents. Couldn’t be here. Van thrived in her adult-less lifestyle. She was her own adult. She liked it that way. No more people telling her she couldn’t handle knives.

Really, she was tired, and maybe she could have said nothing at all, but the words slipped from before she could stop them. “Why do you keep saying that? You’re not keeping me. I can stand here if I want to stand here.” She didn’t understand why Gael, an adult, was apologizing to her, another adult. He was just offering her nice things, and even if she felt like she didn’t deserve them, she didn’t quite understand why he was being so careful.

“Did you adopt Ren or something?” She wondered if they were already related somehow. The question came out and she stared up at him expectantly, gaze sliding around him to his car that was truly parked only a few feet away. “I have my… I’m okay.” She blinked away her blurred vision. She didn’t want to be a nuisance. Gael was nice. She hadn’t even deserved the twenty dollars he had given her, but at least she had paid him back for it.

—

“Yeah, but–” Gael hadn’t gotten much more than a few words through his sentence when the young adult sprang an unexpected question on him and he stammered into silence. Granted, he should’ve started expecting questions like that eventually but he wasn’t anticipating the speed at which they’d be received. “Not–” The professor had to choose his words carefully; one thing he learned in this town was that things tended to spread like wildfire. Gossip, names, information. He hadn’t asked how so many people seemed to know about his neurological issues, all at once, but that was probably because he just figured he told one or two people and they had communicated amongst themselves, telling each other what he was or wasn’t or had or didn’t.

He wondered how many people thought he was stupid. He wondered how obvious things were and he was just trying to look at things in a more nuanced way than they needed to be. “Not… officially.” The professor opted to say with no shortage of uncertainty in his voice. “But I, uh… Like you said, she lives with me and we’ve done some growth exercises together.” Even as he spoke, he couldn’t keep his expression from softening as he thought about the obstacles she was letting him help her overcome, how far she’d gotten. Gael knew what she liked, how she reacted when he put a heater in her room so he could keep the air conditioner on in other parts of the house. “It’s a work in progress, I think.” He added. This wasn’t taking what she wanted into consideration. Would she even want this? Perhaps she would rather be Emilio’s adopted daughter. “Why?” He found himself asking out of genuine curiosity, glancing over at Van.

—

“That sounds like therapy.” Van wasn’t sure what to think. About Gael, or about Ren– about the two of them living together in a way that would protect Ren. She thought about her friend’s comments about living conditions, about Nora and Cass’s too. She had a house. Why couldn’t Ren have stayed with her? Why had Ren chosen somebody else? They had killed together. Maybe that was why. Right. Van was… bad. Gael seemed good. The longer she looked at him, the more she understood, or thought she did.

“That makes sense though. Ren is really cool.” Because she was, and even if Ren didn’t believe it herself, she knew the truth. When he asked why, she shrugged, shoulders reaching her lobes in an almost comical way. “Because she’s my friend and I want to make sure she’s good.” She switched her board so that it was beneath her left arm now. She was so tired.

She looked towards Gael’s car again, deciding against letting him drive her home. “But I’m glad your living situation is working out.” Van wondered if Gael snored, and if it woke Ren up. Or if he made her toast for breakfast. She could make Ren toast for breakfast. She made great toast! She could make it for Nora and Cass, too. But no. They chose somewhere else. All of them did, even Thea with her smelly roommates. “I should probably go.”

—

The small talk wasn’t working. Gael could read her body language; it was very typical of a teenager or young adult who was making exaggerated gestures and using vague language to dance around something they were really thinking. It wasn’t a caricature, per se, but a show that she didn’t want to talk about it. Perhaps she was feeling possessive about Ren, someone that Gael knew Ren liked from the way she discussed pizza and expressed her enthusiasm about the whole ‘van likes worms’ topic. Perhaps it was something else - he was willing to wager that it was something else, in fact - but regardless… He caught the glance to his car and her subsequent dismissal. Gael’s brow twitched slightly, at odds for a moment before ultimately nodding gently. “Okay. I didn–” He cut himself off from repeating himself a third time. “Good talk!” He offered her one more smile. “And next time, you don’t have to pay me back. It was a gift.”

—

Gael was still being kind. Van wasn’t sure why. Shouldn’t he be reacting more like Emilio? Or literally any other adult she came into contact with? Sure, that was sort of on her and her inability to let anyone over the age of thirty in, but it wasn’t like it was a huge problem. She didn’t even really know the guy in front of her, but he was insisting that she didn’t need to pay him back.

“Why not?” Her voice hardened slightly, anxiety and exhaustion creating something awful out of her tone. She rubbed her eyes and took a small step back. She could feel the energy beneath her skin, could feel it rippling– now that she was aware of it, it was harder to think that it was something else. Magic, Milo had told her. It’s magic.

“And why are you always so nice? It’s…” nice, Van wanted to say, but instead venom injected itself into her comment and she was crossing her arms over her chest as she puffed it out, trying to seem bigger than she actually was– trying to get the anxiety off of her mind as she watched Gael intently. “Not really necessary.”

—

The professor couldn’t keep his head from tilting at her sharp question, like a dog hearing a tone and not knowing what it was. The main difference was that Gael did know what it was. She was getting defensive about the whole ‘gift’ thing. He wanted to tell her that it was just twenty dollars; literally not that big of a deal, but then again, he could’ve told himself that too. Was she really that fiercely independent or was this stemming from something else, an ache in the tooth causing pain to the rest of the body? Then she asked about why he was so nice. Gael had gotten that question a few times and he wondered if one day he should have a catch-all answer, even if he had one. Being nice just felt nice. “Sorry,” He ended up apologizing instead, his tone still light and he couldn’t keep a confused look from flitting onto his face briefly. “Is it unsettling? I can be meaner to you if you’d like… whippersnapper.”

—

Instead of becoming frustrated with her question, Gael apologized, because of course he did. In another life, Van would have found it disarming. In this one, she found it annoying. This town and its adults had a penchant for trying to reach out to the youth to steer them in the right direction, and she’d seen it in Gael. Hell, Ren was a perfect example of it. But Ren deserved that, didn’t she? To have someone to look up to? It sure as hell wasn’t going to be her, or any of the other allgoods. None of them were equipped to do anything than mend each other.

He was still trying and Van’s frustration grew. She didn’t want him to be nice. It was a twenty dollar bill to him, but to her, it collapsed the idea that Van could take care of herself. That despite all of the shit that had been thrown at her, she could do it! And here was Gael, taking in her friend that had lived in a shed, and she was upset over twenty dollars? It didn’t make any sense, and if she were thinking logically, she would know that Gael’s confusion was understandable. But nothing logical had happened to Vanessa Zhou in her twenty years of living. It was like she was in an after school special.

“It’s not funny.” Because it wasn’t. Van was ensnared in so much self-hatred that it was impossible to see Gael as somebody who was just passing by. Instead, she associated him with the offer he had made her, and the way he had taken Ren in. He wanted to be somebody to people, but she couldn’t receive that, not from him. She took another step back, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw her magic began to take corporeal form. Like outside of the mines, the nearest stop sign began to melt into a nearby shrub, the liquid slipping easily over the sidewalk. It was a manifestation of her anxieties and fears, and it would always be there, waiting in the wings.

—

He obviously still wasn’t understanding something and the confusion that had flitted on and off his face came back around to stay this time. What had he done to make her so upset? Or even worse, what had gone so wrong in her life that she felt the need to lash out at other people? Gael had dealt with a handful of difficult students before, relinquishing himself to doing what he could for them while also offering to help them find resources that could help them far more professionally and efficiently than himself. That being said, it pained him that he couldn’t help them all, including right now. The professor wasn’t being condescending, he didn’t think but maybe that’s the impression she got? Gael needed to try yet another approach. Or, even better, maybe he should’ve just left her alone since that was what she wanted and let her cool down. He exhaled, an unfamiliar sense of defeat tingling his fingers. Or maybe that was a sound that suddenly hit his sensitive ears, causing him to flinch instinctively. Metal clanged to the ground. Tensing slightly, Gael readied himself to spring into action. Was it an incoming car? Was it a sign falling on the pavement? He turned, worried for wherever the source was and if anyone was in immediate danger. Then he saw the bubbling liquid on the sidewalk, smoking as it was drizzled on a shrub, burning the leaves. “What the hell?” He asked aloud as his eyes danced on the silver, red and white colors that all melted together, swirling as it oozed along the sidewalk on the incline the pavement was placed over. He took a step towards Van, placing himself between the metal and her on some off-chance that whatever did that was close by. “What happened?” He asked, looking over at her briefly before glancing around again.

—

Van looked towards where Gael had indicated the disturbance had taken place. The colors melded together, creating something poetic out of the caution sign. How would people know to stop now? Should she report what happened? How would she even do that? They’d probably assume she stole the sign to put up on her wall or something. Not that that wasn’t something she wouldn’t do, but it wasn’t like any of it would make sense even if she did report it.

She turned her attention back to Gael who looked extremely confused, gaze flickering over the melting metals, and then back to her. Van shook her head. Before, she would deny it– tell him, no, beg him to believe that she hadn’t been the one to do this, even though deep down she knew it was her. She wasn’t sure if she could admit to it here and now, because the confession died at the back of her throat as soon as she opened her mouth to speak. She wanted him to stop caring, wanted everyone to stop caring because it never mattered.

“I don’t– I don’t know.” The lie tasted like acid on her tongue. She swallowed it and clenched her jaw. “This– it happens–” it follows me, she wanted to continue, “in this town.” She couldn’t tell him, even if she wanted to scare him away. Van took a step away from Gael. Another stop sign had begun to melt and she felt her chest swell, panic skittering from all sides. She couldn’t control this, and it was only– she could see the bumper of Gael’s car begin to give way to the magic. She slapped her hands against her ears, sinking to the ground. “Stop, stop, stop–”

—

He asked her what happened but instead of getting an answer or even a vague implication, Van instead said the simple, yet terrifying phrase that didn’t stop the hair on the back of Gael’s neck from standing at attention: I don’t know. As she did, there was another clang of a sign being partially melted, almost as though it were turned into watercolors on the canvas of the three-dimensional space that they occupied. He turned his head at the sharpness of the sound again, an involuntary movement as it rattled in his sensitive ears but he didn’t allow himself to become distracted for longer than the reactionary few seconds. Van dropped into the pavement with her hands over her ears and Gael glanced around for a moment, his expression a mixture of concern and fear, but not for him. Licking his lower lip, he also slowly, carefully lowered himself until he was to a crouch in front of her and he kept his dark eyes on hers intently. With a patience. She was the only thing that mattered right now. “Van– Van, it’s okay.” He tried to encourage, not sure whether or not to establish contact - he didn’t want to hurt her, scare her or exacerbate matters but he wasn’t about to just get up and leave. He also wasn’t sure who he should’ve called for help; this was admittedly very out of his wheelhouse but he was nothing if not stubborn and willing to help as best as he could to minimize situations. “Yeah, it happens.” He nodded in agreement, trying to find something to connect with her. “Things happen. Things that you can’t control.” He wasn’t sure if she was the one doing this but at this point, Gael wasn’t sure who he was talking more about. “I’ve done it, too. Things I can’t control” He said quietly but making sure he was still firm enough for her to hear; he drew upon how his father would talk to him when he was scared, the steady voice in the storm of emotion. “But it’s okay. Things happen that we can’t control but it’ll be okay.”

—

Gael was next to her now as an unwanted presence, but a calming one all the same. She couldn’t shake that thought, no matter how hard she tried. Van gulped in air, the panic skittering across her like a second skin; something she wore no matter how badly she wanted to peel it away. She tried to listen to him, and despite the minor annoyance he brought with him and his caring attitude, she did want to be okay. She had wanted to scare him, but only momentarily. Had wanted to see the fear reach his eyes and decide that it was enough, that she wasn’t worth hanging around for, because wasn’t that what everyone decided about her, once they saw it? Nora was different. Nora was her friend. Gael was… Gael. He had given her twenty bucks and advice on what and what not to eat, but he was looking after Ren, wasn’t he?

Things that you can’t control.

Even if Van couldn’t control this, wasn’t it her fault that it was happening? Milo had been sure that she had magic that day in the common, and had only further pressed the topic during their conversation online. She wanted to believe that somewhere down the line, she could take control of this, but when would that be? Then Gael admitted he’d done things, too, and it took her a moment to understand his words. She wasn’t sure she could believe that, but in this town, wasn’t anything possible? Her best friend turned into a bear and had grown crystals out of her skin, even if those weren’t there anymore. She swallowed more air, hiccuping. Tears streamed down her face and she quickly rubbed them away. She didn’t want to be like this, sinking into the pavement, begging for people to leave. She’d never liked herself like this.

She tried to focus on Gael’s gentle gaze and his reassurances. Even if they didn’t do much for her actual anxiety, she had noticed that the things around them stopped melting. That was progress, wasn’t it? “Okay.” Van rubbed the back of her hand against her face and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment longer, willing him to disappear so that she wouldn’t have to settle into the embarrassment of yet another person seeing her cry. How fucking pathetic was she? “It’ll be okay.” Another lie, but this time for herself. She wasn’t sure she could believe Gael, but a certain curiosity did burrow itself into her; what exactly had he done? What was he capable of, and was Ren in danger?

#wickedswriting #writing: All over $20 #writing with: Van #self harm tw

10 notes · View notes