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#Word of advise never tell ANYONE that it's better their parents died even if those parents were abusive
askaceattorney · 3 years
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Dear Anonymous,
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You stop right there!
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Okay, was my mom perfect? No. And, while there was the question if my mom mistreated me or made me think I didn’t love her, that was more from Ms. Blackquill, which could be subjective. She never once stated that Mom abused me and even Simon confirmed that my mom DID love me!
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How about you do yourself a favor and NOT place my mother in the same basket as abusive parents that actually do traumatic harm to their children? My mom experimented on me to help me get better, not do harm to me. Also...
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HOW DARE YOU SAY I SHOULD BE HAPPY THAT MY MOTHER IS DEAD!! YOU TRULY ARE THE SCUM OF THE EARTH!
- Athena Cykes
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ladyfallonavenger · 3 years
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Happiness in Grief
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Words: 2.3k
Warnings: Angst, more angst, grief, personal memorial, mention of drink driving, dealing with trauma of death, fluff, happy ending
Summary: Reader is struggling with the loss of her cousin after the final battle with Thanos. Bucky wants to take her pain away.
Thank you for taking the time to read this. As always, feel free to like, reblog and/or comment as feedback is always welcome.
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She sat silently in her new room in the compound. She hadn’t spoken much for the last month now. Not since it happened. She closed her eyes trying to shut the pain out, the noise and everything else that came as a result of her loss. The void she felt inside was indescribable. She’d do anything to see him again, to have one last conversation or a proper goodbye. Warm tears seeped through her closed eyes. She opened her eyes again and looked at the clock. It was nearly midnight. Sam, Wanda and Steve had already gone to their rooms so she knew she could leave her room without having to communicate.
Earlier she’d heard voices in the corridor. She was certain it was Bucky talking to Steve asking how she was and Steve telling him that Y/N was just not responding and was like a zombie. He advised Bucky to leave her to her devices because he didn’t think she’d want to see anyone. She knew it frustrated Steve and hurt Sam (who always was her partner in crime when it came to jokes and pranking) that she couldn’t voice anything and stayed mute since it happened, but her body was handling it in its own unique way. Only Wanda seemed to get it and refused to invade Y/N’s mind knowing how volatile and personal grief is.
She made her way out of the compound and started to walk; she didn’t care where. Anywhere was good right now.
She couldn’t remember how far she walked but found herself staring at a river. She sat riverside, listening to the water rushing she sighed deeply. Right now, she needed a hug, needed assurance and needed someone to hear her silent cries for help.
“Y/N” a voice gently spoke from behind her. She knew the voice well. She felt him sit beside her. She didn’t want to look at him, she didn’t want him to see how broken she was especially when she couldn’t speak, she didn’t want to unload her problems on him when he had his own traumas to deal with.
“Y/N, you can look at me. You’ve seen me when I was totally lost, let me see you now. I promise I won’t leave you” he whispered. She forgot how well he knew her, all of those late-night talks, watching movies, listening to music, stargazing and sleeping next to each other for comfort. She hung her head lower as tears tumbled at a faster rate. “Please Y/N, let me in. I feel so powerless seeing you torn apart by your anguish. I want to cure you of your pain, but I can’t help you if you don’t let me in, seeing you like this is worse than anything Hydra put me through. Please Y/N” he pleaded. She couldn’t reply, it just made her sob all the more to know her suffering was causing him distress. She felt his hand atop of hers, their fingers lacing along with some of the grass underneath.
“Goodbye” she uttered through her tears. “I… I never got to say goodbye Bucky” she clarified quietly. Her first words in twenty-four days. She lifted her head slowly to look at him, her eyes red and puffy.
“I’m so sorry Y/N” he reiterated his condolences as he gazed into the pools of heartbreak staring back at him.
“He protected me, he was my cousin and yet more responsible than his uncle ever was. I just want Tony back” she blurted. Bucky embraced her tightly, his chin resting at the top of her head.
“He was a good man; he was strong and taught me many things even forgiving me for my actions as the Winter Soldier. He also helped me when I had questions that Sam or Steve couldn’t answer about technology and science that were classed as what Steve calls modern geek topics” Bucky tried to comfort her. “I’m sorry I can’t take your pain away”
“Bucky you didn’t cause his death. This whole Thanos thing, it would have happened anyway. You didn’t kill Tony through lack of protection, you were fighting a war, you all were. He chose to do the last snap to end the fight. Typical Tony getting in the last word. I just, I just want him back” she sighed trying to lessen her tears as Bucky squeezed her tighter.
As they sat there in silence, Bucky thought back to one of his last conversations with Tony before the first blip:
Tony was going through one of his books on biology and technology. He was still looking for some answers to questions that Shuri refused to share about advancements in human structure and how vibranium made a great synthetic substitute in transplant surgery. Bucky arrived and said nothing, watching him in awe and remembering Tony’s father at the Future Expo.
“You gonna speak to me Tin Man or just stare at me like a lovesick teenager?” he asked looking up at Bucky. Bucky broke a little smile realising this was Tony’s way.
“I wanted to ask you something. I want to do something but I want to do it properly, so Steve suggested that I come to you” Bucky replied being vague.
“If he and Sam sent you hear over that Pornhub thing again I’m gonna kick their asses” Tony said raising an eyebrow and his voice slightly. Bucky looked down embarrassed before speaking again. It was a prank he was a victim of and never wanted to talk of it again.
“I want to ask you about courtship” he admitted looking up.
“Tin Man I am flattered but I like women you know and Pepper wouldn’t be impressed” Tony teased him; he knew why he was here really – his cousin. He wasn’t surprised. Tony had raised Y/N as best he could, she was like a sister to him. His uncle’s child, when she was 12 she came to live with him and his parents permanently after her parents died in a car crash caused by her father’s drunk driving, it killed four other people that night . He ensured she got her education and lived her life while teaching her about hacking and software development. Eventually she went into working for Tony at Stark Industries.
“It’s not about you. I actually wanted to ask your permission to court Y/N” he voiced. Tony grinned.
“Tin Can it took you enough time to ask, I was worried I might have to set you both up”
“I am confused” Bucky replied.
“She has been going on about you nonstop since you two met a few ago. Yes, you can ask her but if you hurt her, I’ll be doing more torture on you than Nat did to her volunteer on her BDSM retreat” he warned. Bucky nodded thanking him and disappeared quicker than Tony could down a whiskey shot.
His attention was drawn back to Y/N as she stood up and walked closer to the river. She observed the flow and listened to the rushing sound as it went down stream. Bucky got up and joined her at her side.
“He used to love getting away from it all. I remember for my thirteenth birthday Tony took me to a lake and taught me to fish. He said that if I ever needed peace and quiet find somewhere with a body of water. It was something he learned in Japan” she explained. As he studied her expression and listened to her recollection of a treasured moment, he realised how he might be able to help her.
“Y/N, I know of a way that you might be able to say goodbye, can you wait here for one moment and I’ll be back” he told her not giving her a chance to answer as he ran. She looked around confused and shook her head as she walked over to a large oak tree and stood against it. Bucky returned ten minutes later holding 2 lanterns, he’d bought them by chance because they looked plain but pretty. He sat down closer to the river than before and patted the ground beside him so that Y/N would join him. She did so and looked at the plain white Japanese lanterns Bucky was holding. He could almost hear the questioning in Y/N’s mind and smiled at her.
“Tōrō nagashi” he paused to watch her reaction. “Did Tony ever tell you about it?” he asked. Y/N nodded at him.
“We did it for Aunt Maria and Uncle Howard”
“I know it’s not the end of the Bon Festival but I was thinking we could light the lanterns and each say something about Tony or to him so that the lights will guide him to a better place” Bucky offered. Y/N’s eyes filled with fresh tears as she agreed with Bucky that it would be a great idea.
They stood up and went down to the water’s edge. Bucky handed Y/N a lantern and lit it for her. He felt helpless as he saw her inner turmoil bubble to the surface in record timing. She took a deep breath and looked up at the night sky.
“Tony, I never got to thank you. You took me in when I was lost, you raised me and taught me to fight for what I believe in. You were the best cousin anyone could ask for. I…” the lump in her throat cause her to pause. “I know you always worried you’d be like Uncle Howard but the truth is, you were and are a million times better than him. I really wanted to spend more time back at the metal works with you. I came back to you a few years ago, not because I wasn’t achieving my dreams, but because my dreams and aspirations meant nothing to me if I couldn’t have time with my family supporting them doing what they love too. I wanted to be here with you like old times, running to the metal works, or lab seeing as you moved on so quickly with things, joking with you and doing a couple of projects. But more importantly I wanted to spend time with you to say how grateful I was. I wanted to tell you that you’re the best cousin anyone could have and I was lucky to have you. Now you’re gone. You’ll always be in my heart and I will continue to move forward with the same Stark Style and grace you taught me. I wish you were here so I could hug you one last time. Listen to your bad jokes and hear your over the top stories. I want you to be at peace and not worry about me, Pepper and Morgan. Find your heaven and relax there, I’ll be fine. But please, just know that you were the one stable person in my life. I am who I am because of you. I’m proud to be a Stark because of you. So rest now and know that I will always love you… brother” she cried as she placed the lantern on the water and watched it sail downstream.
She turned to Bucky who cleared his throat uncomfortably. Emotions hadn’t been his strong point in a long time, not since Hydra’s use of him against his will. He wasn’t sure of how much to say but stepped up for Y/N.
“Tony, you were a good person and friend. In the little time I knew you I could see what a great modern day warrior you were but also a man of love and compassion for those around you. I heard you tell Y/N once that you need to take a leap of faith, give trust and protect those you love . I’m still trying to learn how to do two of those things but I want you to know that I will always protect Y/N. On one of our last chats you gave me permission to do something, you helped me understand what is great about existing in the modern world. I will miss learning from you. But I will miss you more because, despite everything I’d done under Hydra’s influence, you were my friend and called me part of the Avengers family. Godspeed Tony” he spoke putting his lantern in the water. He stepped back and extended an arm to Y/N who accepted as he pulled her in for a hug.
“I’m going to miss him so much Bucky” she cried into his shirt finally letting go of the grief and pain that crippled her.
Bucky cupped her chin in his hand and tilted her head so that he could look into her eyes.
“Tony once said that when you were a baby and staying at his family’s home, for the weekend, his mother would say your eyes shine like crystals. I see that now” his voice low and serious. Y/N blushed at his comments.
“Thank you for being my hero and my comfort Bucky” she whispered leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. He looked suddenly very nervous and vulnerable but knew he had to do it.
“Y/N… I asked Tony if I could court you. He agreed and I can’t deny my feelings any longer. I’m torn by how intense they are but the one thing that is clear is that I love you. Please would you let me love and protect you and help you begin to move forward” he asked. A smile began to blink through the tears like the sun after a storm.
“You… you love me and want to be with me?” she asked for clarity.
“Very much so” he told her. She gave him a consenting nod and hugged into him. Maybe it was just her imagination but could have sworn she could hear Tony in her head shouting ‘yes’ and ‘finally’ with his cheeky chuckle as if he were watching over her one last time before parting ways and making sure that in her grief, Y/N found happiness and hope for the future.
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justanotherlifeff · 3 years
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Quirkless
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Warning: NSFW, Toxic Relationships, Underaged Bakugou and Reader, Reader has Insecurities, Angst with a happy ending.
Bakugou Katsuki was destined to be a great hero. That was a fact that he always knew ever since his quirk appeared. Yes, it was his quirk that made him so great. So much better than everyone else. Ofcourse people without a quirk couldn't even be compared to him, people like Deku or you. Which is why, when both you and Deku aimed to study at UA, he was furious. Deku was the fortunate one as he went through just some bullying as what you went through was much, much worse.
It wasn't your fault that you fell in love with him despite the way he belittled you. However, you blamed yourself for acting on it. It was a stupid and innocent plan really. You were going to give him some chocolates anonymously on valentine's day during your final year at junior high. However, it was Bakugou you were trying to give a gift to and hence, he caught you red handed.
 Your confidence was already broken into pieces by your family and ofcourse, by Bakugou himself due to being quirkless and hence, when he decided to degrade you once again and offer you to be his personal fucktoy, you agreed. Atleast the boy you were in love with noticed you right? Atleast you were good enough to be his right?
This so called relationship you had broke you even more. Bakugou only made you feel more inferior and unworthy every day and convinced you to not go to UA. Even though you got into the Business course of UA, you decided against joining the prestigious school just to make him happy. Even then, as soon as he moved to the dorms, he ended up leaving you, telling you that you did not deserve him.
Bakugou Katsuki was destined to be a great hero. However, he couldn’t change the fact that he spent half his life acting like a villain. He realized it once he found out the truth about Deku, once he finally started seeing Deku as an equal. Unfortunately, it was too late. When he finally realized that he wronged you and decided that he owed you an apology, it seemed as if you disappeared in thin air.
Years went by and no matter how much Bakugou searched for you, he found no sign. All he ever found out was that your parents died in a car crash and they were sinking in debt, which is why you lost your home and everything overnight. He checked the nearby homeless shelters and found out that at that time, all the shelters were full and so, everyone who tried to get in were turned away. As a helpless quirkless kid, there was no way that you survived. However, by that time, Bakugou grew a newfound obsession over you and refused to believe that you might be dead.
The press always questioned why the number 2 hero remained single even if any girl would die to be with him. That question always went unanswered as Bakugou either chose to ignore the question or yelled at the reporters like there’s no tomorrow. The answer to this was that Bakugou had fallen in love with you over time. Whether it was due to guilt or not, he did not know. All he knew was the fact that he could not see himself living his life with anyone else.
Normally, Bakugou’s life was a boring one. He would patrol all day, fight villains, come back home to work out at the gym room he had at his own house, cook dinner and breakfast for the next day, have dinner and fall asleep alone in his king size bed. The bakusquad always thought that his lifestyle was downright sad, which is why, Kirishima had finally convinced him to go to a stripclub.
Bakugou was nothing short of irritated when he entered the club, where random half naked women were dancing on poles. He had absolutely no interest in such activities but Kirishima and Kaminari, especially Kaminari were annoying him for months and he wanted them to shut their mouths. However, that changed very fast as soon as he heard an announcer say, “Now, our quirkless darling will be up on the stage! Please welcome (Stage/name)!”
Ever since his obsession with finding you began, he found himself turning his head as soon as the word quirkless got mentioned. Ofcourse, it always gave him a surge of false hope as he never found you. However, this time, things were different as he saw you go up on the stage with a skimpy outfit on. He recognized you immediately, you didn’t look too different from when you were a teenager.  Sure, you were more mature and your skin was full of marks... wait... were you being abused?
Kirishima noticed Bakugou’s shocked expression and it didn’t take him long to figure out that you were the (Y/N) who Bakugou had been looking for since his UA days. Just to be sure, he asked, “Bakugou, is that (Y/N)?” and as he feared, Bakugou ended up muttering an “yes”. “She takes clients for further ‘service’ after she’s done with her show. Do you want to book her? You can talk to her that way.” Kirishima advised his best friend. To that, Bakugou only asked, “How do I do that?”
Bakugou could barely breathe as he waited infront of your room. After taking a deep breathe, he got in, only to find you naked. “I’m surprised you chose me, Dynamight-san. You don’t seem to like weak people right? Choosing a quirkless like me, is this some kind of fetish of yours?” you chuckled, the venom in your voice apparent. “(Y/N), I just wanna talk.” Bakugou answered, looking at your eyes. 
It surprised you honestly. You always saw pure anger and disgust in his eyes even when you were kids. It surprised you to see that the explosive hero could have guilt in his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not like you...” you muttered, confused by the entire scenario. 
“I searched for you for years. I heard about your parents. What happened to you?” he asked quietly, surprising you even more. “I-I tried going to a homeless shelter nearby but everywhere was full. I had some money that I saved up so I moved to the nearby city and got into a shelter there. I got some part time jobs to pay for high school at first but then I still had trouble with money cause they paid too less. That’s when I met a guy who got me in here and I’ve been working here since. You pro heroes are perverted enough to have sex with a high school girl so here I am, making money and getting by somehow.” you chuckled dryly.
“I’m sorry.” you heard Bakugou mutter, which surprised you even more. “huh?” you asked, confused. “I wish I could’ve saved you. I’m sorry, (Y/N). About everything. About saying all those God awful things to you. About not being there when you needed me. Fuck I wish I could take it all back.. I’m so sorry, (Y/N).. Please let me make it up to you.” he said in a raspy tone. It was hard for you to believe that THE Bakugou Katsuki was apologising to you.
“You weren’t wrong though. I did end up being a fucktoy for you people with quirks. There really is no other place for a quirkless loser like me...” you were stopped by Bakugou yelling, “Shut the fuck up (Y/N)! I’ll make sure you get a different job! Hell, you can be my assistant at my agency! Or Deku’s Agency! Just let me help damnit!”
“Why are you doing this after all these years?” you asked, tearing up. “Cause I was wrong. Cause you were more than just a fucktoy. Cause my dumbass took too long to realize that I love you. You don’t have to accept my feelings, (Y/N). Just let me give you a better life. I just wanna make up for my mistakes. You deserve so much better than this. Please (Y/N).” Bakugou muttered in a raspy tone. 
At this point, you were sobbing. Not knowing what to do, Bakugou hugged your naked form. You were so small and defenseless. Back in the day, the fact that he could crush you boosted his ego. Right now, he just wanted to protect you from all harm that could come at your way. “I need you, Bakugou-kun... Please...” you whimpered, as you pressed yourself to his chest, shivering slightly. “Call me Katsuki.” he muttered before kissing you.
Everything was different this time. This time, he kissed away your tears instead of causing them. He held you tightly instead of not letting you touch him. He kissed your marks instead of causing them. His kisses were so soft that it made you melt as he slid his hand down to your crotch, rubbing your clit, making you moan in pleasure. he trailed his kisses down your body eventually and as he reached between your thighs, he inserted a finger in you as his lips sucked onto your small bud, making you moan out loud. 
It was amazing how good he was with his mouth as he used his tongue to tongue fuck you as soon as you orgasmed due to his ministrations with your clit. His fingers went back to massaging your clit, making you gush into his mouth. 
That’s when he finally put his condom on and positioned himself on your hole. It was almost unbelievable to you that this was the same person from back in junior high as this time, he hugged you tightly, his body completely engulfing yours as he pounded into you. He was so much bigger now and the way he was kissing your neck and whispering how good you felt and how sorry he was to your ear, you couldn’t help but cum all over his cock. However, he kept overstimulating you, making you cum once again before blowing his load in you.
You expected him to leave right after. You expected all of it to be a lie. However, you were completely wrong.
Bakugou Katsuki was destined to be a great hero. However, the day he truly became one was when he kept his promise and gave you the life you always dreamed of. He became a great hero when he made sure you knew that you were worthy of him and more.
The ask box is open!
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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years
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Could we have a fic of Jiāng Cheng naming a disciple as his heir, or if you think it wouldn’t work, would you mind just making a list of why, or of alternatives (because this is going with a aro/ace Jiāng Cheng)
Jiang Cheng was, in some ways, a terrible sect leader.
For once, it wasn’t just his insecurities talking; it was simply a fact of life.
He was skillful enough as a warrior to earn fame and fortune for his sect, a charismatic enough leader to gather cultivators beneath the Jiang sect banner for the war, a good enough general – or, well, maybe a lieutenant, since to his relief Nie Mingjue handled most of the overarching battle plans for all the sects, not merely his own – to keep most of them alive during the war. He was a miserable politician, but he was able to walk the tightrope between being too weak (and making his sect a target) and too arrogant (and making his sect a target), even if it cost him tears and blood and a brother.
His sect survived. More than survived, it thrived.
Jiang Cheng had not disappointed his ancestors, his parents. He had, for once, lived up to expectations.
But there was one thing he needed to do, but couldn’t bring himself to actually accomplish.
“Take it in steps,” Nie Mingjue advised him, when he forced himself to ask. The other man’s eyes were shadowed – empathetic rather than sympathetic, a sense of fellow feeling instead of pity – there was a reason he’d come to the Nie sect for this. “In my case, the line of inheritance was and is straightforward, if threatened by Huaisang’s weakness. In your case…”
Jiang Cheng swallowed.
That was the crux of it, really. That was the terrible thing that he needed to do, but couldn’t.
The Jiang sect needed an heir.
He didn’t want to give it to them.
“Start small,” Nie Mingjue said. His voice was not given to gentleness, but it was less harsh, perhaps, than it might have been. “Formally appoint your second-in-command.”
Jiang Cheng’s face burned. Even that small thing had not gone unnoticed, it seemed – it wasn’t that he didn’t have a second-in-command, if the role was defined in the sense of the person he leaned on for aid and advice, the person who he gave authority to when he was too busy, the person who he trusted to keep things running if he was asleep or unconscious…
It was just that – it was the wrong person.
(It should have been Wei Wuxian – but that had long ago become impossible, even before he’d died. It was only that it hurt him to remember it, to think of it, to put someone in his place –)
“Your staff is very competent,” Nie Mingjue said. “They will serve you well.”
The rush of pride helped ease the never-ending sting of Wei Wuxian’s absence.
“I’ll do that,” he promised, and Nie Mingjue nodded in satisfaction. “But there’s also – the long term.”
The Jin sect would like him not to appoint anyone, he knew. That would give Jin Ling a claim to the position, and his Jiang sect that he worked so hard to reestablish would be swallowed up in whole by Lanling Jin – impossible, unacceptable. He had cousins that he could name as heir, to pass the time until – until –
“You don’t have to marry,” Nie Mingjue told him, and Jiang Cheng started as if he’d been caught doing something wrong, suddenly naked beneath Nie Mingjue’s relentless gaze.
“What? I – no. I’ve gone to the matchmaker, it just hasn’t worked –”
“Jiang Wanyin. You don’t have to marry.”
“…now?”
“At all.”
Jiang Cheng had wanted to hear those words for so long that he was suspicious of hearing them now. “I don’t have an heir,” he pointed out. “I don’t – if I don’t have children, my parents’ bloodline will die with me. I don’t want –”
To disappoint them.
“Their inheritance to you is their sect, which you have preserved,” Nie Mingjue said. “If you had died in its defense, would they excoriate you? No.”
“But I’m not dead,” Jiang Cheng said. “And just because I find the idea of marriage to be – unattractive –”
He could say as much to Nie Mingjue, who was equally unmarried, equally resistant to the idea. It had been his father’s complaints about Nie Mingjue’s disinterest in men and women alike, a somewhat knotty political problem, that had first revealed to Jiang Cheng that such disinterest was even an option, that it wasn’t his own personal failing but a characteristic that other people shared with him.
“– doesn’t mean that I can’t do it. ‘Attempt the impossible’, remember?”
Nie Mingjue frowned at him. “Your sect’s motto does not overcome your duty as a cultivator or as a human being,” he said firmly. “Attempting the impossible does not mean that you should attempt to do evil, if evil is what is impossible.”
“Marriage isn’t evil.” Even if he sometimes thought of it as such.
“Not for others. But for you and I – it’s different for us. It’d be one thing if we could find someone to match us, someone who shared our disinterest or was willing to adapt to it...there are people like that out there, women and men alike, and if you want a partner with whom to share your life, I have no doubt that you can find one. But that’s not what’s being discussed.”
“It isn’t?”
“No. To marry someone blindly for the sake of marriage and children, to put politics over personal interest and wed someone who thought they would receive all the things that come with a marriage, all the things we do not wish to give? It would be an act of evil. An evil to whoever we wed, if we let them enter into marriage with us unknowing of what the future might hold – an evil to ourselves, if we tried to pretend, forcing ourselves into a life of bitterness, resentment, and misery. Worst of all, it would be an evil to our children, who would know.”
Jiang Cheng shuddered at that, revolted by the idea. It was true, too – he had always known that his parents’ marriage was unhappy, even back when he was younger and his mother still took pains to hide it from him, and then even more so later on. The bitterness of his mother’s unhappiness had eaten her alive, over time, and his father’s dissatisfaction had done the same for him…
Was that how he would be, if he forced himself to marry whatever girl agreed to take him, not telling her the truth? If he married just for the sake of the heirs they could have together, planning all the while to abandon her afterwards?
Yes.
After all, for better or worse, he was his parents’ son.
“Okay,” he said, and closed his eyes briefly as a great weight lifted from his shoulders. “You’re right.”
Nie Mingjue nodded in satisfaction. “Pick a nice cousin that you can bring to live with you, train them up early and make the reason clear,” he advised. “Establishing a line of succession early is the only way to avoid a giant clusterfuck.”
Jiang Cheng’s lips twitched. “Is that the technical term for it?”
“As far as I’m concerned it is.”
Jiang Cheng laughed.
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demig00ddess · 3 years
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Sleeping Beauty
Charlie Weasley x MC
Warning: huge spoilers for Year 6 Chapter 18!
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CHAPTER FOUR
THE CONSEQUENCES OF DEATH
    1989.     Middle of the first semester.     The quill in the hands creaked monotonously, writing words on the paper. Professor Binns’ voice and the stifling atmosphere of the office were slowly putting in the trance. Emma bit her cheek more painfully and continued to take notes on the lecture.     Behind the farthest desk, Binns’ rustling voice was hard to hear, so Emma regularly consulted the textbook. Two seats were empty in the first rows. One of them is next to Penny, there was always Rowan. The second — next to Charlie, he occupied it for Emma every lesson. Today Emma quietly slipped into the office just before the start of the lecture so as not to meet with her classmates.     Penny sat down next to Charlie and whispered something in his ear. For some reason, Emma felt as if she had swallowed the bubotuber pus. She shook her head, for sure it seemed to her because of fatigue. She was satisfied with the back seat, but the fact that someone else was sitting in her place next to Charlie was a little annoying. Charlie listened to Penny and nodded absently. He looked around uneasily, trying to see someone or something. Emma was glad that she was safely hidden from the front desks by the backs of her classmates.
    “… delegated authority to Wizn… Wesegn… to Wizengamot.” Emma stubbornly wrote down the professor’s words, despite the fact that her hands were shaking and big blots remained on the parchment.     She felt sleepy, but she could not afford to fall asleep. There was a bright flash of green light in front of closed eyes. The Dreamless Sleep Potion they had been brewing on Potions had run out. The dose from the hospital wing that Madame Pomfrey had advised not to overuse had ended too. But after such a sleep, she got up even more tired.     A flash of green and Rowan’s body falls right in front of her. The friend’s eyes are wide open in surprise, her mouth is slightly open in a silent scream. “Debt collected.” Emma could not bear it, she woke up with a cry and tears in her eyes. The silencing charms she put on her bed every night kept her from waking an already worried Liz. Whatever Merula said, the same charms were imposed on her bed, she could not afford to be considered weak by anyone, not even Izmelda.     Every time Emma closed her eyes, there was a green flash and the body of her best friend fell in front of her. At first, it was only memories of Rowan, but then a deadly beam hit Ben, and he fell dead in front of Emma. Merula died next, then Charlie, Penny, Barnaby, Bill, Tonks. Her friends threw themselves under a killing spell, and she could only watch their lifeless bodies fall to the ground. Emma tried to revive Jae and Badeya, begged Tulip to get up, but they were all dead.     Charlie turned around again and Emma looked away. There was her own cry in her ears when a green beam hit him when the red head hit the ground and her tears fell on the freckles on his still warm face.
    Emma doubled over to stifle the pulling pain and rumbling in her stomach. After eating, she felt sleepy, but she couldn’t sleep. After lights out, she would sit up in the Slytherin common room with her books and send especially curious juniors to the bedrooms.     Most of the teachers averted their eyes from her as if they didn’t want to disturb her. Snape gave her an incomprehensible look as she submitted an essay on the Draught of Living Death a foot longer than he demanded. And Flitwick freed her from homework, after, because of trembling hands, she conjured not a small fountain of water, but a real tsunami, flooding the office.     During the day, Emma wandered and loitered about the castle, avoiding familiar faces. She shunned talking, trying to hide in a niche or take refuge in some class. She felt that some part of her had died and now she could not exist normally. She wandered half-dead.
    An idea came to the head like lightning. Half-dead! Surely! How the thought didn’t occur to her at once. Emma jotted down hastily Binns’ last words.     “Professor! Professor Binns, please wait!” Emma made her way through classmates.     “Um, Underwood? Do you want anything?”     Emma hesitated a little, she didn’t think what exactly she would ask the teacher. The classroom was empty and she finally found the words.     “Professor, I wanted to know about Rowan, Rowan Khanna. She always said that she wanted to be the youngest professor at Hogwarts. Um — Couldn'tshestayherelikeyou?”     “Excuse me?”     “Couldn’t she become a ghost? I mean, you came back to teach students, she could come back too. She would have come up with everything, finish her studies, and then began to teach. I’m sure Professor Dumbledore would have let her! She could have stayed here! Haven’t you… haven’t you seen her?”     Emma blurted it all out in one breath, afraid that the professor would interrupt her. Binns adjusted his glasses and for the first time looked at Emma like that, with the keen, clear gaze that Emma often saw in Dumbledore.     “Miss Khanna was a gifted witch. And for all her love of teaching, she was drawn to explore and learn something new.” Emma stared at the old professor. “So rest assured, Miss Underwood, she went ahead.”     “Went ahead? Where did she go?”     “Unfortunately, I do not possess these facts. But you should know she’s not coming back. I’m sorry, this is a big loss for Hogwarts.” Binn turned and walked through the board.     “For Hogwarts,” Emma repeated. It seemed to her that Rowan had died a second time, again in front of her eyes. She had already seen her friend, ethereal, pearl-silver, but talking to her and laughing. But Rowan went ahead.     Emma stuffed a quill and blob-strewn lecture notes into her bag. She wanted to hide somewhere, in Moaning Myrtle’s toilet or a dark closet. She had no strength to return to the common room.
    At the exit from the class she was caught by someone’s strong hands, Emma jerked sharply, holding a wand to the attacker's neck. She could feel her heart pounding thumping deep in her head. “I have to defend myself.”     “Emma,” Charlie gently moved the trembling wand away from his neck. Emma freed herself from his grasp and dashed down the hallway.     “Emma! I want to talk! Please!”     “Not now, Charlie,” she wanted to hide quickly. Charlie caught up with her and gently turned her around. He didn’t insist but asked. There was not a drop of pity in his bright eyes, they were full of concern. He examined her carefully as if trying to see if she had done something bad to herself.     “You were right,” Emma turned her gaze into his boots. “You better stay away from me. Everyone should stay away from me.”     She turned and walked away. She had already lost one friend and couldn’t bear to lose someone else. Charlie caught up with her again and grabbed her into his arms.     “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should never have said those words to you. You are my — You’re my best friend and I will be by your side. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there for you.”     Emma shook her head, pulling back.     “Your brothers — ”     “My brothers will support me,” Charlie interrupted her, he was confident in his words. His eyes said that he would not let anyone else hurt her. Emma felt her eyes fill with tears. The students scurried along the corridor and Emma again had a keen desire to hide.     “Come with me,” Charlie whispered in her ear.
    They walked and walked until they came to a sprawling tree near the lake, scaring several of the Hufflepuff freshmen out of there. Charlie hit the ground first, rummaged in his bag, pulled out the sandwiches wrapped in a napkin, and handed it to Emma.     “How long have you not eaten?”     “A couple of days, maybe more,” Emma sat down next to him and sniffed at the sandwiches. “How did you know?”     “Couldn’t find you in the Great Hall.”     Emma took a bite of her sandwich and put it aside, feeling nauseous. Charlie looked at her closely but said nothing. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Emma bit by bit on the sandwich to keep from getting sick.     “I spoke to Nearly Headless Nick. Also asked about… this.”     “What did he say?”     “The same as Binns.”     Emma felt a tear roll down her cheek.     “I saw Rowan’s parents yesterday, they came to pick up her things. I visited them every summer. They loved her so much…”     Emma burst out, talking and talking, ignoring the tears. Charlie just sat there and listened. When Emma finished and exhaled helplessly, he leaned her head on his shoulder and began to speak. He told her stories that he had heard from his mother as a child. He talked about the books he had read. Emma lay on his shoulder and listened, inhaling the scent of grass, honeysuckle, and something else very familiar. She didn’t notice as her eyes began to close, and Charlie’s voice seemed to ring out farther and farther.
    She didn’t get much sleep, Emma woke up from her own scream, she was tossing around, not knowing where she was. She was choking on tears and couldn’t breathe, it seemed that someone had sucked all the air out of her lungs.     “Shh. I’m here, everything is fine,” Charlie’s quiet and soft voice rang out over her ear. He put his arm around Emma, stroking her hair soothingly. She sobbed and grabbed his hand, afraid to let go.     “Do you want me to tell a tale about the fountain of Fair Fortune?” asked Charlie a few minutes later, when Emma calmed down. She nodded.     “Jacob used to tell me this story when I couldn’t sleep.”     “Now you need to sleep too. I’m not such a good storyteller, but I hope you like it. High on a hill in an enchanted garden, enclosed by tall walls and protected by strong magic, flowed the Fountain of Fair Fortune…”
    When Emma woke up, the sun was already setting, she was lying on Charlie’s lap, covered by his jacket. Charlie himself was reading a book, only wearing a sweater. Emma jumped awkwardly and blushed.     “Did you get some sleep?” Charlie pulled out a blade of grass tangled in her hair. The tips of his ears turned pink. Emma nodded in surprise, she slept for hours without nightmares. “You smiled in your sleep. I missed it, your smile I mean.”     Emma flushed and hastily turned away, pretending to straighten her clothes. She vaguely remembered what she had dreamed, but Charlie was definitely there. “Well, he’s your friend, the others must have been in the dream too,” she told herself.
    Charlie had already packed his things, got to his feet and gave her a hand. Emma got up, too, and handed him his jacket.     “Don’t,” Charlie threw the jacket over her shoulders. “You can freeze after sleep.”     “Are we going to the castle yet?” Emma tried to hide the disappointment in her voice.     “We’re in time for dinner. Sit down at the Gryffindor table, okay? You need to eat, and you're boycotting food.” Emma’s stomach purred in agreement. Charlie gave her a bribing look, “Penny also wanted to sit with us while we are allowed.”     “Oh,” at the mention of Penny, appetite disappeared.     “Oh?” Charlie asked. “Did you have a fight?”     “No, I didn’t mean that.” Emma said, not understanding why she was angry at Penny. She always supported Emma and wished only the best for her.     They walked in silence for a few minutes, lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Emma broke down.     “You and Penny have become very close, haven’t you?”     “Yes,” Charlie said simply. “Especially recently. We spend a lot of time together.”     “Oh,” Emma said again, and they both fell silent.
    An unpleasant weight filled Emma’s chest, making her difficult to breathe. She noticed this even during their trip to Romania, but then she wasn’t up to it, she was too keen on their adventure. But since… since the moment… Emma couldn’t bring herself to say what had happened even in her thoughts. For the last couple of weeks, Charlie and Penny have hardly ever parted, and for some reason it hurt her.     Emma was happy for her friends, she loved both Penny and Charlie, as friends, of course. And it was great that they got together. Something was still gnawing at her, but Emma brushed the thought away. She didn’t want to be selfish, and even more she didn’t want to interfere with the happiness of her best friends. Especially in these times.
    “Glad for you,” Emma said already at the castle.     “Sorry?” Charlie snapped out of his thoughts.     “I’m glad for you and Penny, that you’re getting close,” she explained, trying to avoid Charlie’s gaze.     “Thank you,” Charlie looked surprised, letting her into the Great Hall.     “I’ll eat at my table,” Emma said sullenly.     “But — ”     “I’ll eat, I promise. I just… want to eat at my usual place. Alone,” she added hastily, noticing that Charlie had something to say. He nodded and gave her a confused smile.     “Then I’ll see you later, right?”     They went in opposite directions, joining their classmates. A few minutes later, Penny entered the Great Hall and went straight to the Gryffindor table. Charlie said something to Penny, who was smiling contentedly. Emma poked at the broccoli with her fork and looked away from the chatting couple.
    After dinner, Emma hurried down to the dungeons, once again avoiding her friends, and began to write an essay on the Orion constellation. It wasn’t until she was getting ready for bed that she realized that she hadn’t given Charlie his jacket back. Already in bed, having applied a silencing charm, Emma picked up the jacket in her hands, pondered for a couple of seconds and wrapped herself in it, curling up on the bed. The familiar smells immediately enveloped her, and she closed her eyes.     “Cinnamon” flashed through her head in the dream. The smell that haunted her for a long time was the light scent of cinnamon. It smelled like that at home when, years ago, her dad made cinnamon rolls, according to grandmother’s recipe. Emma buried her nose in the jacket and fell asleep with a smile on her face.
    It was the second time in two weeks that she had no nightmares.
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hollenka99 · 3 years
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The Life and Times of TommyInnit
Summary: Tommy was born into a loving family. He dies long before he should have with no-one there to help him.
Warnings: Death, abuse, manipulation, violence
Tommy is born into a loving family. He has grandparents, an abundance of aunts and uncles, not to mention even more cousins. All of them ready to welcome the newest member of their family with affection. In the first week or two of his life, a number of his neighbours from their village make brief visits too. When he learns to walk then subsequently run, his father prepares to tell him once he's older of how he regretted letting Tommy discover his legs. Permitting his son to figure out how to control his mouth and tongue in a way that forms words is something else he will one day jokingly claim he shouldn't have done either. If the little boy isn't playing with nearby cousins or local children his age, he is making himself heard. Most of the time, he does both. Tommy is an incredibly happy toddler. It comes to an abrupt end during the late autumn he is three. Pillagers arrive and with them comes trouble. Both of Tommy's parents are good fighters. In a world like this where danger could appear from any dark corner, you somewhat have to be. But Tommy is far too young to have their skills imparted upon him through lessons in their garden like he was due to begin years from now. So his mother takes several supplies, grabs him and leaves him a relatively safe distance away. On a hill overlooking their village, he is handed an iron sword and instructed to stay safe while he waits. She tells him it will be all over by nightfall, that the weapon is only a precaution, that she loves him and will be back soon. A peck on the forehead is the last interaction they will ever have because unfortunately for everyone involved, these pillagers have developed a tactic to deal with those who are harder to suppress. His parents and their families before them have traveled far from a place known as Spawn. With no sufficient bed to rely on anymore, anyone who doesn't permanently fall to an arrow will be too far to interfere as it is. Night does come with no rescue for the three year old in sight. His parents are fine, they're still resisting the assault on the place they call home, but from the darkness mobs arise with the intent to harm any individual unfortunate to cross their path. Tommy is one such individual. He had been advised to make a hole in the dirt if worse came to worst but he has no time to do so when faced with the skeleton that will destroy the life he knew. When he respawns, he wakes an inconceivable distance from home. His parents will look, oh how they will search, but it will all be for naught. He will grow up with no real recollection of them and no awareness of how the initial realisation that he is truly gone causes them to crumble. By the time an 11 year old boy with a brown fringe long enough to potentially warrant a trim stumbles upon him, spring is starting to get underway. Tommy himself isn't quite sure how he managed to survive the winter months. There was a great deal of trespassing on people's property and eating whatever he could get his hands on though, he knows that. Yet here was this much older boy speaking gently, offering shelter and decent meals if Tommy trusted him enough to follow him back home. He risks allowing himself to take this chance. Besides, he's made himself into a child that's faster and more agile than a stranger would expect from someone his age, all for the sake of survival. If really necessary, he could escape back to this spot by the stream and find a new place where 'Wilbur' can't find nor hurt him. He tells himself as they walk that he's only going because he's being living in a state of perpetual hunger, cold and with an anxiety he can't place because it hasn't left him since he first respawned. Gaining a few hours' reprieve from that can't be an awful idea, right? The truth is that he is on the cusp of 4 (although he had no way of knowing this) and he needs someone to take care of him, he should not be responsible for his own survival at this age. So yes, he goes with Wilbur, meets the boy's winged father, gets handed a mushroom stew which he scarfs down too quickly for his stomach not to ache shortly thereafter before being directed to Wilbur's bed for the night where he cries because wow, this truly seems like luxury after months on the ground. Phil and Wilbur insist that he remains in their care. With nothing to lose, he doesn't say no. Before getting separated from his family, he had been an only child who hoped for his parents to give him a sibling. They hadn't, at least not by the time the raid happened. Wilbur, however, was the brother he had longed to have. Better yet, Wilbur was older so the responsibility of being the eldest fell on him rather than Tommy. He could be a nuisance and, so long as he didn't push his luck too much, he was allowed to get away with it for the most part. Phil wasn't always present as a father figure so that role subsequently fell on Wilbur as well. His brother shows him a cave in a cliff face that he'd made his secondary base for when the rations Phil had left ran too low to last however long this trip would go on for. By the time Tommy is perhaps 8 or so, once Phil has met Technoblade and chosen to make the piglin his travel companion, he and Wilbur visit that cave so often it is practically their new home. No, that place was home. With its small fireplace, the colourful beds by the wall and sign declaring it theirs positioned next to the exterior of the front door, it was where he felt most safe. That is why, when the time came for him to leave in order to see more of the world than the view from the windows, his heart was afflicted by a bittersweet pang at the sight of it. He loves Wilbur, would follow him anywhere by this point. So when he shows up on the SMP, talking about making drugs in a van and fighting to gain freedom from tyrannical oppressors, Tommy can't help but be his ever loyal right hand man. He is 16 and ready to go down with a fight. He's made friends, Tubbo especially, all of whom are in it together. Until Eret decides they do not believe in the revolution. While dealing with the aftermath, Tommy's mind refuses to stop reminding him he was the one to press the button in that dreadful room. Perhaps if he hadn't but no... rationally, he knows full well someone else, likely Eret themself, would have simply done it instead. But when has trauma ever been rational? Besides, it's hardly like Eret's betrayal has ended the conflict so he hasn't got the time to dwell on what could have gone differently. He is a teenager who is down a life yet refuses to let that stop him. He challenges Dream with no intention of forfeiting his second life. He does anyway. Then L'Manburg finally wins the right to be free so any sacrifices he's made to get to this point are internally deemed worth it. By now, Dream has stolen two of his lives, reduced him to a point he's been more mortal than anyone his age should be. Tommy has suffered fatal trauma to his head and later bled out following a fight. There's a pattern here to be seen yet he'd rather ignore it. Dream's backed off anyway so what threat would he be? The owner of this place can return to the guy who enjoys the company of his friends, separate from Tommy and his own circle of friends, once more. Tommy will stay out of his way for obvious reasons however, there is less reason to now. A part of him hopes it will stay that way. He senses something has begun to change with Wilbur during the elections, That said, he isn't entirely sure and waves it off as the consequences of Wilbur leading the war effort. His excuses are not permitted to remain for long. Schlatt wins, they sprint away from the home they made only for Tommy to be left with the task of carrying Wilbur's invisible temporary corpse before the duo settle in a ravine he'd discovered. Pogtopia is where things truly go to shit, he thinks. Or perhaps they'd already been going downhill but their exile accelerated it all. Techno grows an abundance of those stupid potatoes shortly after his arrival and Dream is promising stacks of TNT for the sake of obliterating the newly rebranded Manberg. Meanwhile, Wilbur has gone off the rails in a big way. Try as he might, Tommy can't seem to figure out what the right words or actions to get him stop are. So Wilbur deteriorates further into paranoid, pyromaniacal madness. When things get worse and he wishes, though god knows he would never allow himself to openly admit it to anyone else, that he'd never left that faraway cliff face. Wilbur has them trespass on the festival in Manberg with the intent of it being the nation's final hour. All that comes to pass is Tommy watching his best friend be executed for being a spy then listening as Wilbur cheers while Technoblade triumphs over him in a fight. In a messed up way, he is somewhat glad when mid November comes. They fight, win, witness Schlatt's pathetic demise, feel as though they can look to a better future, lose Wilbur as well as a huge chunk of land, protect themselves against Techno's withers and get left with the task of rebuilding their home. It's an eventful day which Tommy is happy to leave behind him. Although, he isn't quite so pleased to deal with its aftermath. It's... two or maybe three weeks, he believes, before shit hits the fan as it inevitably was due to once again do. It would seem that Dream wasn't satisfied with messing with people's lives from the sidelines anymore. He drives a wedge between Tommy and Tubbo with his threat of sky-high walls, as if the weak points in their friendship were always easily accessible for the purposes of exploitation. Then he's being led away to a far off location with only the ghost of his brother and the man who will immediately take advantage of the situation for company. Ghostbur is nice yet Tommy yearns for him to be different, for him to keep his disarmed personality while regaining the memories that would allow for them to resolve the pain Wilbur left him with. Whatever... it's not like he stays. Dream confuses his mind with all his assurances of friendship as he robs him of his right to property. When it finally ends (on his own terms but thankfully not the ones he was planning to go through with hours before), he attempts to find a new beginning with Technoblade. He should have known it would end badly. Everything always seem to do so nowadays. Even L'Manburg. Or should he call it something akin to L'Mancrater after the events of Doomsday? He's pleasantly surprised when he is granted the ability to sit on the bench by his house, Tubbo by his side, and listen to the discs he's fought to regain for so long. He'd nearly lost so much in that room far below the earth. Part of him wonders if it's a cruel prank, whether something will come later in the week to say 'ha, look at you getting your hopes up'. It... doesn't. He begins work on his hotel with the help of Sam Nook. The tasks come across as menial and he complains yet finds them oddly satisfying. Nook is building the actual thing but he's playing his part. It's going to be great once it's finished. He's recruited Jack Manifold to assist in running the place, Tubbo is safe in Snowchester, the Egg stuff is dumb but if he keeps his head down it will hopefully leave him alone for the most part. He's ready for closure and moving on from the pain that's been constantly inflicted upon him over the past several months. He believes the best starting point is visiting Dream in prison one last time. Just one quick trip then he can carry on with his life. Nobody, least of all himself, has any idea how much of a mistake this will be. The final days of his life, as oblivious to them being so as he is, are miserable. He does his best to stay strong, to defy Dream's attempts at worming his way back into Tommy's head with his verbal poison. Sam must be sick of him given how many times he screams to be let out already when the possibility of Sam being within hearing range arises. He hates it here. He doesn't want to look at the lava which acts as the main source of illumination, he wishes the cell was less confining, all he can taste is the starch from the potatoes. Perhaps the worst part is not knowing how far into the week he is. Then Sam, the bastard, announces it's been 7 days but due to the security breach still going unresolved, Tommy will have to hold on a little longer. An argument erupts between the inmates. It begins to get physical when the subject of Schlatt's resurrection book is brought up. He acts so confident that he will survive this hellhole, that he will endure it out of spite for Dream as well as sheer defiance alone. But in the end, he's crying, begging, pleading for Dream to stop. In the end, he's simply a 16 year old kid who is getting beaten to death by the man who has been abusing him for months with no-one there to conceivably rescue him in time. He remembers Wilbur once explaining to him that life wasn't fair. Not quite in a 'life sucks and then you die' kind of way. More like 'life isn't easy, especially not for people like us who were put at a disadvantage early on, but you persevere with your best effort since life isn't obligated to care... and then you die'. Life wasn't fair when pillagers raided his village, when he was forced to survive on his own, when the only adult figure in his life left a kid in his early teens to raise him, when he watched the man he considered a brother lose his way, when his best friend was executed in front of him, when another adult manipulated others so that he would be vulnerable to abuse and it certainly wasn't going to be fair when he wanted some semblance of closure from all the shit he was put through. He wishes he could be 7 again, back when he could easily wriggle his way into Wilbur's bed on the other side of their makeshift cliff home and be comforted without any resistance. As much as he hated it, he longs for that dumb piece of carpet in the corner where Wilbur would make him sit if he made too much of nuisance of himself. His brother used to tease him and bemoan his behaviour when he was sent there but if Tommy ever became genuinely upset, Wilbur would quickly cut it out and apologise. He misses the coziness of it and all the fond memories of him and his big brother growing up on their own terms since they were the only family the other truly had. He wishes he could be laughing with Tubbo and the rest of their friends. He knows he hasn't been the most present recently but for good reason. His brain is tired of figuring out whether he's alright and even when it's offered a chance for serotonin, it's hesitant. That day after they beat Dream and retrieved the discs, he'd been filled with so much euphoria. The stress of that day's events and the weird place Wilbur's disembodied voice had temporarily sent him to aside, he'd been happy. It had only been some 5 or so weeks ago that Tommy had been hopeful and looking forward to what came next. He had the BigInnit Hotel to return to. God knows how it's been faring in his absence. His best guess is that Jack has probably taken control temporarily which was good. He was going to leave, take a second to breathe then get right back into managing the hotel. There were so many things he planned to do once he got out. Pranks on guests, the ridiculous amount of overpricing he wished to get away with, the feeling of doing an MLG water bucket trick off the top floor... it was going to be a good time. Was supposed to, anyway. Despite everything, he has experienced happiness time and time again. He's had friends who cared and were willing to help him in their own ways. Sam had been on his side... he thinks. No, he's sure Sam has just been busy with all that was on his plate this week. He hopes so since he doesn't think he could stomach another realisation that he's placed his trust in the wrong person. Besides, Sam Nook was Sam's creation and why would he put the effort in to make something to assist Tommy if he didn't actually care at least a little bit? No, no, he feels Sam is genuinely good, he does. However, Sam's not coming. Even if he can hear the fight, the lava takes forever to drain and who knows where Sam was situated in this massive prison when he realised something was wrong. Even if Sam's attempting to stop this, there's not way he'll make it. Tommy wants to convince himself it's fine. It is not. If you're aware of them, there are a few spots around the human skull you can hit that will result in a fatal injury. And Dream, ever aware of what he's doing at any given moment, makes no attempt to avoid them for the final blow.
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khoicesbyk · 3 years
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Beloved.
A/N: I'm officially obsessed with Wolf Bride and what does one do when she's obsessed with a certain book? She writes an AU about it! 😁 So, Talley Ho! *in my Sherlock Holmes voice*
Rated: Mature. | Contains sexual content and strong language. (You know? The usual from me. 😁) | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Main Characters: Roman (LI) and Naia Evans (MC) | All Characters and names: (except MC and original characters created by me) are property of Pixelberry.
Current Word Count: 4,040 words. (more or less. I stop counting after editing and re-editing. 🤷🏾‍♀️)
Song And Story Inspiration: Bittersweet-After 7
Tag List: @shewillreadyou @rideordiechronicles @pixie88 @txemrn @lucy-268 @shannonsaid @shannonwrote @bebepac @imturaxamara @blackkingliamstan @queenjilian @secretaryunpaid @ridgy--didge @theworldofprompts @choicesficwriterscreations
This series is rated Mature. It is NOT reading material that is safe for those under 18. Reader discretion is STRONGLY advised!
This series may contain spoilers. If you wish not to see spoilers, please do not read any further.
Prompt Time! Today I’ll be using @theworldofprompts prompt “What do you want me to do, dress in drag and do the hula?” it'll be in bold in black. Also I know that I can’t be the only one who’s excited that they picked the greatest Disney movie one-liner as a prompt.
(Also this series is a slight deviation of the original story. In the original story, the werewolf hunter is a woman. But in this series the hunter is a man.)
Missing a chapter or want to read a chapter again? I got you covered! Click ——> Here!
If you’d like to be added to my tag list. Just reblog or dm me and I will gladly add you! 😁😘
A/N 2: I had a time writing this chapter. Writers block and all out forgetfulness is a bitch! But I did it! *pats self on the back*
TW: paranormal activity. Communication with the dead. Reader Discretion Is STRONGLY ADVISED.
Chapter 22.) Reflection.
It′s crazy how you flaunt your passion.
When you let meaning of them worth take over you.
You stare into my soul like that.
Makes me wonder when you ain't get by the side of me.
It′s pain and pleasure.
To love someone so.
So much you, you hate them.
Push me over the edge then.
To go catch you, your love is.
It's bittersweet.
(What you want from me, want, want)
I build you up, then knock you down.
It's bittersweet.
(What you want from me, want, want)
You stay quiet and I get loud.
It′s bittersweet.
It had been 3 days since Naia was rushed to the hospital because of Wolfbane being in her system. Her parents, especially her mother, were both distraught and furious that their daughter had gotten herself caught up in the tireless war between The Pack and The Knights Of Ossory. Those three days felt like years to them. Both took turns sitting vigil over their daughter.
The only saving grace was that her condition hadn't changed. It hadn't gotten better but Laurie and Shane were thankful it hadn't worsened. They just wanted her to open her eyes. Laurie needed her daughter to wake up. She had to hear her voice again. And every moment that she didn't the more she went crazy. Laurie would just sit at Naia’s bedside holding onto her hand and pray Naia would squeeze her hand. The agony of waiting was going to kill her.
“Anything?” her husband asked as he entered the room with coffee in hand.
Laurie just shook her head no.
“It'll happen, baby. It has to. She'll wake up and we'll be able to breathe again.”
She never said a word to him. She just held onto Naia’s hand as Shane set the cup of coffee he brought her down. Laurie's eyes were red and puffy and her face was a mess. She blamed The Pack and The Knights Of Ossory but mostly she blamed herself. She swore to protect her daughter from all of this. To prevent her from going through the hell she went through over 30 years ago. And feels like she failed. A pain no mother wants to go through.
Laurie rubbed Naia’s knuckle silently, willing their daughter to wake up.
“Have you eaten baby?”
Laurie shook her head no.
“You should go eat something baby.”
“I don't want food. I want our daughter. I want her to wake up now.”
Shane sat beside her and placed his hand over hers.
“I know, baby. I want that too. I need it. You need it. But it's not good for you not to eat something.”
“I can't leave her! What if she wakes up and I'm not here?! I have to be here!”
Her frantic tone worried Shane.
“Baby listen to me! You need to go eat something. I'll be right here. I will watch over her. If anything happens I swear to you that I will tell you immediately.”
“But Shane—”
“No buts! Go eat something. Now! I won't let anything happen to her. I swear that on my life.”
Laurie looked at him before getting up and going to the door. When she looked back towards Naia, Shane smiled softly at her.
“It's okay baby, I'll keep her safe.”
Laurie nodded sadly before walking out the door.
Shane turned his attention back to their daughter, his worry, resentment, rage, sorrow, protectiveness, and anxiety all on high. His little girl. His flesh and blood. She hadn't moved or spoken since he last saw her. He was thankful for the hospital staff. They were able to get her allergic reaction to Wolfbane under control but she was still unconscious. None of the meds she was on seemed to be working.
It′s so easy to listen.
When your tongue is an innocent prisoner of war oh yeah.
And it might bе wrong but we never еnd that.
Damage is done, always pain and pleasure.
To love someone so.
So much you hate them.
Push me over the edge then.
To go catch you, your love is.
It's bittersweet.
(What you want from me, want, want)
I build you up, then knock you down.
It′s bittersweet.
(What you want from me, want, want)
You stay quiet and I get loud.
It's bittersweet.
It didn't take Laurie long to come back from the cafeteria. When Shane looked up she walked in with food for them both.
“I'm not the only one who needed to eat.”
Shane smiled softly as she handed him a sandwich.
“Still nothing?”
“Still no change. But I'm not giving up.”
Laurie smiled at her husband's resolve. They sat together and ate their food in silence. Their eyes went from Naia to the IV drip machine she was hooked up to.
“Don't worry baby. Our girl will wake up.”
“I know she will. She has to. And when she does…we have to tell her the truth.”
Shane looked at his wife confused.
“Are you sure? Are you sure you’re ready to do that?”
“Look at her Shane! She wouldn't be here, hell we wouldn't even be here if she knew the truth. It's time. So when she wakes up and is lucid enough to hear it we'll tell her everything.”
Shane took his wife's hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“Okay. If you’re ready and you're sure. Then I am too.”
Laurie offered him a small smile.
Yeah I know you know me.
That′s why you the only one can push my buttons.
Sometimes it's like you speak another language.
Got me like adios buenas noches baby.
Oh it′s pain and pleasure.
To love someone so.
So much you hate them.
Push me over the edge then.
To go catch you, your love is.
It′s bittersweet.
(What you want from me, want, want)
I build you up, then knock you down.
It′s bittersweet.
(What you want from me, want, want)
You stay quiet and I get loud.
It's bittersweet.
(What you want from me, want, want)
I build you up, then knock you down.
It′s bittersweet.
(What you want from me, want, want)
You stay quiet and I get loud.
It's always bittersweet.
While her body was still, Naia was subconsciously awake.
“Naia…”
Naia slowly opened her eyes, and looked around frantically and confusedly. She couldn't see anything or anyone.
“What? Where am I?”
That's when she heard a woman's voice.
“I've been waiting to meet you.”
When Naia turned around she saw a figure she didn't recognize.
“Who’s there? Who are you? What is this place?”
The figure in front of her soon materialized into an elderly black woman. One that she recognized.
“Oh…my…God! You’re…you're…Delia?”
She smiled at Naia.
“Hello, my dear. It's wonderful to finally meet you.”
Naia’s jaw dropped.
“But how?!”
“I thought you…you died a long time ago!”
“I did. 3 years ago.”
“Wait! Am I dead?”
Delia laughed softly.
“No dear, you’re not dead. You are in the world between worlds.”
Naia blinked in realization.
“I was here with Roman. Where is he?! Is he hurt?! Did Trent shoot him?!”
Delia placed a calming hand on Naia’s shoulder.
“All will be revealed shortly. I promise.”
Naia took a shaky breath then nodded.
“Now come sit with me. We have much to discuss.”
Naia followed Delia to a bench that appeared out of nowhere. When they sat down Delia cocked her head to the side at Naia curiously. Making her feel super awkward.
“Is there something on my face?”
“No. I’m just curious about you. You’re as beautiful as I imagined you’d be.”
Naia couldn’t keep the blush from creeping up on her face.
“A ghost just called me beautiful. I must be hallucinating.”
Delia chuckled.
“You said we had much to discuss. What are we discussing?”
“You, my dear. Your connection to the town, the people, and especially Roman.”
“I mean I’ve been in town for a few months. I don’t know anyone outside of my uncle Trent and the Pack.”
Delia nods.
“And what are your impressions of them so far?”
Naia chewed the inside of her cheek.
“Can I be honest with you?”
“Of course dear. That’s why we are here.”
“I understand why my mom doesn’t want me around Roman. Because to be honest, he’s terrifying. But at the same time…I can’t stay away from him. I can’t get enough of him. He makes me feel safe. And loved. And wanted. And I…”
“Yes?”
“I care about him. A lot. But I don't know if I'm ready to give up my life for him. I don't know if I'm ready to be his mate.”
Deli nodded.
“It is a lot to ask of a young woman. I would know.”
“How did you decide Delia? Or was it decided for you?”
Delia chuckles softly.
“It wasn’t my intent to be Xander’s mate when I first came to Hunt’s Peak.”
Naia blinked in confusion.
“You’re not from Hunt’s Peak?”
“No. Originally from the Pittsburgh area.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“I grew up in foster care so it wasn’t like many had missed me when I left.”
“So what brought you to Hunt’s Peak?”
“I was hired as a 5th teacher. I loved my job. Teaching children became my passion.”
“And how did you meet Xander?”
“I’ve always been a Wolfkin and I knew it was my destiny to become the mate to a member of The Pack but I never thought I would be Xander’s mate. But to answer your question, I was walking along the creek when I saw him and his father Ferdinand. We were smitten at first sight.”
“Oh…did his father accept you?”
“Yes, he did. And after some convincing so did his mother Cecilia.”
“When did Xander become Alpha?”
“Shortly after we met. Maybe 6 months or so.”
“Is that when you became his mate?”
“Yes. He courted me until he became Alpha.”
“Courted how?”
Delia smiled as if lost in a memory.
“He would come by the school. Regale my students in wild tales of werewolves as knights and kings and sorceresses and sorcerers. That sort of thing. But the biggest thing he did for me, was he planted a single night flower and let it blossom into a field full of them.”
“Sounds like he was a romantic at heart.”
“He used to be but when he became Alpha, responsibility and obligation replaced flowers and romance.”
“Was it hard?”
“No. Not at first. I always understood my role as The Alpha’s mate. And I cherished it. Becoming a sort of Den Mother gave me a purpose.”
“What changed?”
Delia looked at Naia with a new curiosity.
“He met your mother.”
Naia swallowed.
“Mommy told me how she met him.”
“I remember that. I remember when he told her no at first. I was furious at him. So I not so subtly encouraged him to reconsider not protecting her and your uncle.”
“Why did you do that?”
“Your mother was a child at the time. And your uncle couldn’t protect her as he should have. Only Xander and The Pack could do that.”
“She also told me about the day he offered her The Pack’s protection.”
“I remember when Xander told me about Bobby Giles threatening her. He was furious and I was disgusted. But we both knew that he couldn't just charge into town and rid it of him. Well, he could but it wasn't in his nature at the time. So he sent a few wolves in their human forms to investigate.”
“She told me that too. And the time that Bobby pulled a gun out on Xander.”
Delia snickered.
“The fool. He believed that his gun would scare Xander. But he learned the hard way that day.”
Naia shifted in her seat.
“Mommy showed me the necklace that Xander gave her.”
“I know about that. He gave it to her on her 18th birthday.”
“She also said that she was bonded to him.”
“She's right. She was bonded to him until he died.”
“Are you angry about that?”
Delia went quiet
“To be honest, I was very angry with her. Jaded and bitter even. But I realized after she left that my anger was misplaced.”
“Misplaced how?”
“After she left I found out that Xander was telling her that she was to be his new mate. And at that time your mother was a young impressionable girl.”
“He was manipulating her?”
“Yes, he played with her heart and preyed on it.”
“My God. Why did you stay with him for so long?”
“I was bound by Pack Law to stay with my mate until his death.”
Naia shuddered.
“Will that happen to me?”
“If you choose to be Roman’s mate you are bound by Pack Law to be at his side until his death.”
“Well, that explains what my mom said about you and Xander being married on paper.”
Delia nodded.
“If I was the mate of any other Pack member I could leave. But I was Xander’s mate. As was your mother. As yet…”
“She ran away.”
“Yes.”
“Can you tell me about Xander?”
“What would you like to know?”
“What did he look like?”
Delia waves a hand and a picture of Xander materialized in front of them.
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“Whoa…”
“That is Xander in all his glory.”
“He and Roman look just alike.”
Delia smiled softly.
“Yes. He has his father's looks and stubbornness but he also has my heart.”
“Will I meet Xander?”
“No my dear. You won't.”
“Crisis averted.”
“So, will you be Roman’s mate or will you go back to your life as a human woman?”
Just as Naia was about to speak another panel appeared in front of her and Delia.
“What's this?”
“Roman. He's trying to connect to you through your bond. We are about to look at life through his eyes. These panels that appear are what life is like.”
“Why can’t he connect with me?”
Instead of responding, Delia put a finger to her lips then pointed to the panel. When Naia looked at the panel she was transported into Roman’s mind.
She and Delia were looking at a memory of them.
She had convinced Layla to let her turn Buck’s into a mini-movie theater for the pups and their parents. To give them something fun to do. When Roman heard about it he was both curious and thrilled. The girls decided on watching Lion King. With Gino and popcorn in hand, Naia snuggled next to Roman.
“So this movie is about…cats?”
“The circle of life. And lions.”
“…lions are cats are they not?”
Naia shook her head at the memory before turning to Delia.
“I remember this.”
“Do you?”
“Yes. It was the day I learned that your son doesn’t like my impressions.”
Delia chuckled. They turned back to the memory and as they did, they came upon Naia’s impression of one of her favorite scenes in the movie.
“Hyenas. I hate hyenas. So what’s your plan for getting past those guys?”
“Live bait.”
“Good idea!…hey!”
“Come on Timon, you guys have to create a diversion.”
“What do you want me to do? Dress in drag and do the hula?”
Roman groaned.
“Are you going to be like this the rest of the movie?”
“What? Gino likes my impression. You don’t like my impression?”
“…no.”
“Everyone’s a damn critic.”
Roman rolled his eyes. But he would soon find out which scene is her favorite scene in the whole movie.
“Hey! Who’s the pig?”
“Are you talking to me?”
“Uh oh! Did he call him a pig?”
“Are you talking to me?”
“Shouldn’t have done that!”
“Are you talking to me?!”
“Now they’re in for it!”
“They call me: Mr. Pig!”
And just as she got Pumbaa’s yell Roman clamped a hand to her mouth.
“Beloved…how am I to enjoy this movie you’ve chosen with your incessant talking?”
Naia just giggled as the panel changed to a more recent memory. One that Naia didn’t recognize.
“My…room?”
“Yes, my dear. This was just a few days ago.”
“But I don’t remember this.”
“Because you aren’t there.”
“What?! What do you mean?”
Delia pointed to the panel as it showed Roman walking into her room. He looked distraught as he looked around. Naia could feel his anguish in her chest. When his eyes fell on Gino sitting on the bed, she felt tears on her cheek as he held Gino close to his chest.
“I don’t understand.”
“The one he considers to be his mate is missing.”
“His mate? You mean me?”
“Yes, my dear.”
“But why is he looking for me?”
“Because your bond with him is disrupted. He’s trying to reconnect with you.”
“But why?”
Delia turned back to the panel as it showed Roman in wolf form curled up on her bed with Gino under his jaw. She felt his agony and his pain as well as his longing as he whimpered. He was missing her. He was needing her. Her presence. Her smile. Her laugh. It broke her heart. She stood up shouting to the panel.
“Roman! Roman! I'm here! I'm right here!”
Delia put a hand on her shoulder.
“He can't hear you. This is only a vision of what has already been.”
Naia turned to Delia with pleading in her eyes.
“You said that he couldn’t connect to me, why can’t he connect to me?”
With a wave of a hand another panel appeared. This one showed Naia lying in a hospital bed hooked up to an IV with her mother at her side.
“I–I–I…it can’t be! You said I wasn’t dead!”
“You aren’t Naia. You’ve been injected with Wolfbane. It’s a toxin that can be deadly but thankfully you were taken to the hospital in time to save you.”
“Injected?! How?!”
“You don’t remember?”
Naia stood there confused until it hit her.
“The tranquilizer dart! The one that Trent was using! Am I right?”
Delia nodded.
“If I’m on an IV then why haven’t I woken up?”
“Because the spirits aren’t ready for you to wake up yet.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
Delia looked at Naia.
“Answer this. Why do you think you’re here?”
Naia didn't know how to answer that question.
“I don't know.”
As soon as those words left her mouth another panel appeared. This one was of Trent after he left the hospital. He was in his boss’s office going off about Wolfbane.
“What is wrong with you Moses?!”
“The tranquilizer! You said it was harmless!”
“It is harmless! It effects those beasts and their ability to shift!”
“What about humans?”
“It doesn’t effect humans!”
Trent eyed him with an intense yet calm fury.
“What is Wolfbane?”
Bernard blinked in confusion.
“Where did you hear that name?”
“Answer the question!”
“It’s the name of the tranquilizer. It doesn’t effect humans.”
“Yes it does.”
“No it does not!”
Trent pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Naia was hit by one of the tranquilizer darts.”
“The young woman you brought here the other day?”
“Yes. She collapsed after being hit and is now in the hospital fighting for her life. According to her mother Wolfbane is a poison that you and Xander created.”
Bernard looked at Trent genuinely confused.
“Her mother?”
“I didn't stutter.”
“What was her last name again?”
“Evans.”
“I knew someone with that last name but it was a he not a she.”
“Probably her dad. Her mother’s maiden name is Roberts.”
Bernard’s face lit up.
“Roberts? As in Laurie Roberts? Zane Roberts sister?”
“Yes.”
“I knew that girl looked familiar!”
“What are you talking about?”
“I know her mother. Which means Xander was right. She did run off with Evans. I can’t believe she finally came back home.”
“Is what her mother said true? That you created this with Xander?”
“Yes it is but he took it too far. It wasn’t designed to be lethal. I tried to stop him but you can see what good it did.”
“So Xander truly was a monster?”
“Ohhh yes my boy. A monster indeed.”
As she watched with Delia, Naia wasn’t entirely convinced that Bernard was totally innocent.
“I don’t like him. I don’t trust him.”
“That’s Bernard Sayre for you.”
“Has he always been this way?”
“Oh yes. Even when I was amongst the living he and especially his motives were always questionable.”
“Why does the town let him do what he does?”
“Only the town can answer that.”
“I guess…”
The panel showed Trent in his cabin sitting on his couch with a bottle in his hand. Naia could feel his guilt and shame as well as his anger. His anger at his boss and anger at himself. He didn’t mean to hurt her. She just came out of nowhere. By the time he pulled the trigger it was too late. He didn't see her at first but when she dropped to the ground his heart dropped when she did. He wanted to be there at the hospital with her. To tell her how sorry he was. How much she means to him. How he wishes he could take it all back.
But at that moment he couldn't. All he could do was wallow in his festering grief and simmering anger. The same as Roman. This war had taken away a lot for both of them but this was the final straw. Trent wasn't about to lose to Roman again. And Roman had finally had enough of Trent being a thorn in his side. Both had subconsciously decided that this was an all-out war.
All of it broke Naia.
“They aren't serious are they?”
“Yes. Both are hurt and angry. Both at themselves and each other.”
“But I don't want this! I don't want them fighting!”
“Then you've found your reason for being here.”
“What do you mean?”
“You asked me why you were brought here. My dear, you were brought here to heal what is broken.”
“You mean Roman and Trent?”
“And your family. Your mother, especially.”
“Mommy?”
“Yes. She is hurting. And angry. And confused. And you are the key to healing her wounds. And theirs.”
Naia nodded.
“How do I do that?”
“You can start by answering your mother’s prayer.”
Delia turned back to the panel that showed Laurie. When Naia looked up, her mother was holding the necklace that Xander gave her. She looking out of the window to the moon in the sky.
“Spirits of the earth,
I don't know if you can hear me or that I even have the right to ask this. But I come to you with a simple prayer. I ask you to heal my daughter. She doesn't deserve to be here. She doesn't deserve this. She's innocent. If you're angry with me for abandoning The Pack and my duties as Xander’s mate I understand. But I beg you! Don't make my daughter suffer because of me. I beg you, please bring her back to me. Let her eyes open again. Let her speak again. I just want my little girl back. I need her back. Please! Heal her.”
Delia turned to Naia with a question.
“Now that you know your purpose, are you ready my dear?”
“Yes. I am ready to heal all that is broken.”
Delia waved her hand and the panels disappeared. They were replaced by a doorway.
“Then go. Your mother is waiting for you.”
“Thank you, Delia.”
Delia smiled at her.
“You're welcome, my dear. Tell my son that I miss him and that I love him and that I'm sorry.”
Naia smiled at her.
“I will.”
Naia stepped through the doorway and was transported back to her hospital room, just as her mother finished praying. She had moved her head slightly which both startled and excited Laurie.
“Naia? Naia baby are you awake?”
Naia’s eyes fluttered open and when she spoke her voice was weak.
“Mommy…”
Laurie had tears in her eyes.
“I'm here baby. I'm right here.”
Laurie was overcome with joy and relief.
“You came back to me!”
“I missed you, mommy.”
“I missed you too, baby girl.”
“We…have…much…to…talk…about.”
Laurie nodded resolutely.
“Yes, we do. It's time for you to know the true reason why I left.”
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Note
Can you PLEASE share more of The High Road?
After learning the truth from Claire, a furious Brianna runs to Craig na Dun to prove her mother’s crazy only to fall through the stones herself.
Part One
The High Road and the Low Road - Part Two
“Ye’re called ‘Bree’?” Ian clarified.
“That’s right,” Brianna said, her tone defensive.
Ian chuckled. “Well, from what I can see of ye, ye look Scots but ye dinna sound it and ye’ve clearly got no Gaidhlig.”
“I should think that was obvious,” Brianna quipped. “Now are you going to help me find my car or not?”
“Yer what?” Ian blinked and yawned from his place on the floor.
“My car – actually, I borrowed it, which is why I need to find it and get it back to Inverness before my mom and Roger get too worried.”
Ian looked at her confused. 
“Inverness? Even if ‘car’ is the name of yer horse and we found him right now, ye’ll never reach Inverness by morning,” Ian informed her. “It’s a day’s ride at least – nearer two.”
Brianna fought to make sense of what he was saying, the knot in her stomach that had untangled the further she walked from the stones was beginning to reform. “But… it couldn’t have been more than an hour after I left that I reached the stones…” she muttered to herself.
“The stones? Ye mean the fairy hill at Craigh na Dun? There’s tales of what happens there to those who get too close. If yer ‘car’ is all the fairies took from ye, count yerself lucky and dinna go near there again,” Ian advised.
“What am I gonna do?” Brianna asked in a quiet panic, voicing her thoughts aloud. “How am I gonna get back? Can I get back?”
“Calm yerself, lass,” Ian urged, relaxing into his place on the floor and closing his eyes. “Whatever it is ye decide to do, ye’ll no be able to make a start until morning, so, ye dinna need to decide till morning either. Ye can stay here tonight and share the fire so ye’re no alone.”
While Brianna was still inclined to panic, exhaustion was encouraging her to take Ian up on his offer. It was more comfortable in the cabin than outside and Ian was right – she needed the light of day to find her way back to Craigh na Dun… or whatever she decided to do. Her body screamed against going back to that stone circle – she didn’t even know what year it was or if she would land back when she’d originally left. What if she ended up further back in medieval days? 
She lowered herself to the floor, eventually lying down parallel to Ian with a gap of about three feet between them and their heads pointed toward the low fire. It would be a rough night on the hard and uneven dirt floor.
She thought Ian had already succumbed to sleep but he turned his face toward her and peeked one eye open.
“Ye never said who yer family are,” he pointed out quietly.
“Yeah well you’re pretty much a stranger,” Brianna reminded him.
He chuckled. “Ye’d no object to sharing that were ye a Scot,” he told her. “And did I ken yer family name, it may be that we’re no strangers after all. Near every man, woman, and child in Scotland can claim common kin some generations back if ye talk it through enough.”
“Well I’m not from around here,” Brianna said defensively. “My mother’s English and my father… he’s dead.”
“But he was a Scot,” Ian guessed.
“That’s what my mother tells me.”
“Ye sound like ye dinna believe her.”
Brianna sighed. What did it matter if she told a stranger the shocking truth? She would be going back through the stones soon anyway (though the thought made her shudder). And she wanted – needed – to talk about it with someone who might understand and feel for what she was going through. She couldn’t explain why, but she felt that this young man would understand her.
“The man who raised me died about two years ago in an accident,” she confided. “I always thought he was my father. But, my mother recently told me that actually, she was already pregnant with me when she… married him. She’s only just told me that she was married to another man before him and that that man was my real father. He died in battle and she… It’s uh… it’s been a bit of a shock.”
“I’m sorry, lass. I didna mean to make light. My uncle fought at Culloden. Lucky to be alive. Was wounded and nearly died of a fever. To hear my mam tell it, he tried a few times and wasna happy wi’ her for stoppin’ him,” Ian shared. “I’m headed to Edinburgh to see him. He’s a printer now. My mam and da need seed and tools from the city so I thought I’d fetch them and check in on my uncle while I’m there.”
“Sounds… nice,” Brianna replied when he paused. “I didn’t grow up with much in the way of family and now it’s just me and my mom.”
“Is that why ye’re travelin’ alone? Ye dinna have kin to travel wi’ ye and protect ye?”
“I can take pretty good care of myself,” Brianna snapped. “You’re traveling alone and you’re younger than me.” 
“No by much, I’d wager,” Ian snapped back. “And I’m a man, besides.”
“Do your parents even know you’re here or did you run away or something?”
Ian sputtered and scoffed, struggling to find words with which to deny her accusation.
Brianna laughed. “You ran away.”
“Well, then I suppose ye think ye’re too good for my help. Perhaps ye’d prefer to sleep outside if ye’re so capable of takin’ care of yerself.”
“I don’t care if you’ve run away or not and the first thing to know about taking care of yourself is knowing when to ask for and accept help,” Brianna told him. 
“Did yer father teach ye that? Certainly sounds like what my Da would say. My mam would tell me to stop courtin’ trouble in the first place.”
“My mother says it, actually. She’s a doctor – a surgeon. She’s used to helping people and convincing her more stubborn patients to accept help when it’s offered.”
“A surgeon? Really? And yer father didna mind?”
Brianna shifted to find a more comfortable position (there wasn’t one). She was tired and not thinking straight. She’d have to be more careful. She was confident she must be some time after Culloden from what the boy said (but how long after could be anywhere between five and fifty years for all she knew). 
“Didn’t say he didn’t mind it. But my mother is an unusual woman.” Brianna felt a stab of longing as she thought of her mother. She missed her desperately. Why had she let her temper get the better of her? She should have stayed and heard her mother out – of course, who could blame her for not believing Claire’s story?
“A rare woman,” Ian murmured. “Tha’s how my da talks of my mam…” He yawned. “Best we rest now. I’ll see if there’s anything I can help ye with in the morning ‘fore I go on my way,” he promised.
“Thanks,” Brianna said with a yawn of her own. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, trying to calm her mind and pretend she was back at the Manse, that this was all a dream and the world would make sense again when she woke.
*************************************
Ian woke before her and was watching her strangely when she started coming around. She turned away to yawn and stretch, then faced him again.
“You know, it’s unsettling, you watching like that,” she said, not really ready to be awake and have to think about her predicament again.
“Sorry,” Ian said, flushing and offering her a bit of bread from the pack he’d brought. “It’s just… I didna get a fair look at ye before. There’s something… Who did ye say yer family are?”
“I didn’t,” Brianna reminded him. “But I guess you didn’t attack me in my sleep.”
“Gave ye food as well,” he pointed out.
“My mother’s name is Claire. And she’s going to murder me for getting lost like this and scaring her,” Brianna told him, hoping to sidestep the subject of her father so she wouldn’t have to think about it more.
“And ye said ye got lost near the fairy hill?”
“You mean Craigh na Dun? Yes. If you point me in the right direction, I should be able to get back on my own.”
Ian dusted away crumbs and began pulling his pack back together, readying to depart.
“I can’t let ye go on yer own – it would be too dangerous. But I also cannae be turnin’ back just now. I’ve no time to lose on my way to Edinburgh.”
“It can’t be that far away,” Brianna objected. “I wandered from there to here in less than a night.”
“And ye’re lucky ye werena set upon as ye did,” Ian warned. “It’s no a safe stretch here – not if ye dinna ken the safe places along the way, like this wee cabin here. It’ll be safer for both of us if we travel together as I do ken the safe stops along the way.” 
“You want me to go all the way to Edinburgh with you?” Brianna asked, skeptical. “Even though the place I’m trying to find is the other direction…”
“I promise we’ll no stay in Edinburgh for more than a day or two and my uncle will be more’n happy to let ye stay wi’ him, as he’s used to puttin’ me up. Then, on my way home again, I’ll be able to bring ye all the way to Inverness myself.”
It was a crazy, ridiculous, and stupid idea to follow this boy all the way to Edinburgh. She had no way to get word to her mother – if it was possible for her to get back at all… Maybe her mother was unique in being able to go back and forth. From her mom’s stories, this was where she should have been born. What if the stones decided this was where she belonged and that was it? Could she risk wandering off on her own only to discover she was trapped here alone without even basic supplies? Ian seemed nice enough and was willing to help. If she let him walk away and she was really stuck here, how long would it take her to find another person and what were the chances they would be willing or able to help?
And who was to say that even with a detour, when she reached the stones and went back again, maybe she'd show up the same day she’d left. Her mother didn’t seem to know how they worked so it was anyone’s guess. Besides, having made the journey and gotten through her initial panic, she had to admit she was getting curious. She’d studied this time extensively – read about it in her father’s books countless times. But to have a chance to live it…
She couldn’t believe she was actively talking herself into it and promised it would only be for a few days – she still couldn’t imagine what (or who) could have inspired her mother to stay for almost three years. 
“Fine,” Brianna muttered, rolling her eyes at the triumphant grin that broke across Ian’s face. “But if your uncle refuses to let me stay, whatever alternative lodgings are necessary are going to be found and paid for by you. And we can’t stay in Edinburgh for more than a few days.”
“I can assure ye, my uncle willna mind. Now, if ye’re ready, we can make a start and if we’re lucky, we’ll find someone wi’ a cart who’ll let us have a ride part of the way.”
“Hitchhiking,” Brianna remarked with a smile as she squinted into the early morning sun. “That I can do.”
*************************************
“If she didn’t come back through right away, then it must mean something’s happened to her,” Claire explained as she packed supplies – a change of clothes for herself and Brianna, her traveling medical kit, some food.
“Ye cannae know that for sure,” Roger insisted. “We cannae even be certain she went through the stones. We don’t know she can or why it is you can.”
“She went through with me when I was pregnant. That’s reason enough for me to believe. And she wouldn’t wander off on her own and if she found a ride with someone and was safe, she would have phoned. She went through the stones and she’s stuck or injured or scared or all three. I won’t leave her alone there for a moment longer than I have to.”
“Right,” Roger agreed. “Fiona will be here in a few minutes. What can I do?”
“Are you going to try and come with me or are you going to wait on this side for me to bring her back?”
Roger froze. “What makes ye think I could even travel through the stones?”
Claire nodded to the framed family tree on the wall.
“William Buccleigh Mackenzie. He wasn’t the child of those two listed there. Well… he was. But their son by that name died before his first birthday. The one that lived to father children was born to Geillis Duncan and Dougal Mackenzie – and I know for a fact Geillis Duncan traveled through the stones.”
“What? How?” Roger sputtered.
But Fiona had pulled into the yard. 
“I’ll tell you in the car,” Claire promised.
Roger hastily grabbed a few things and threw them into a bag before ushering Claire outside and locking the door behind them.
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amiramorozova · 3 years
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Dual summoner and the Darkling -princess version- pt. 5
Pairing: Dual Summoner Amira Silina and Darkling General Kirigan/Aleksander Morozova
Glossary: otkazat’sya- Non-Grisha
After that Fete, I kept to myself but as promised he made up reasons for me to have to leave the grand palace. I was to pick up more 'classes' with him as I like the way that sounded, I had some simpler outfits that Genya snatched for me which was a shirt and pants like 2nd army. I was glad this was an option instead of a dress, the shoes were so much more comfortable. "I could get used to this." I said 
"Well don't get used to it just yet." General Kirigan said as we walked but I wanted to know what the AM stood for. "What does the initials stand for? If you're last name is Kirigan than you can't really have an M in your name." I asked as I walked beside him. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know when we're in a more secure location." General Kirigan told me. I wanted to know but nod as we kept going, turns out we were going horse riding so we saddled up the horses and he took me off grounds. I was in better confidence on the horse so when it was going fast I let go of the reins and laughed a bit before getting ahold of it. He led me to an open area where there was a well. 
"it's a well." I said as I noticed he got down and I followed getting down to knowing there was much. The Apparat I didn't care for him but he was creepy enough as I noticed the carvings walking over and traced them. "The story of how the fold was created. A former king hired a Grisha to be his adviser, a shadow summoner." I said as he chuckled a little knowing what people called. "You can say it, the black heretic." General Kirigan said, I shook my head as I pointed to the next one "this part, it doesn't seem right. It says the summoner was obsessed with power but our powers only go so far." I said with my back to him knowing there was so much I didn't know. "You don't think the black heretic was power hungry?" Kirigan asked as I shook my head. "there's missing pieces, why would he want more power unless something happened. Someone he cared about was killed or died possibly? So, he used a power he didn't understand causing the people in the land and himself to die." I answered
I looked back to look him in the eyes to see what was going through his head at that moment. He only had this surprised look like I looked past the story to something more. "Unless the black heretic didn't die by your reaction. Baghra is your mother." I said confronting him with what I'd heard in my unconscious state back at my presentation. His expression changed quickly as I stood up and he walked over to look into my eyes. "If only you were just a little older. I never expected anyone to see past that story the otkazat’sya put together.
"Your real name, you owe me that at least." I said confronting him knowing no matter what he said she wanted the truth. "Aleksander." He said as he looked at me and he moved his sleeve showing my initials AS. "Your real last name, Amira?" Aleksander asked. I knew my father informed me through a letter of my birth last name as I looked at him. "Silina," I said as I moved my necklace and showing his initials. "Morozova." Aleksander said as I let it go in shock as I'd heard that last name before. Sankt Ilya Morozova was the first Grisha saint. "You're related to Sankt Ilya." I said
He walked away and sighed "Luckily a tailor can modify those initials long enough when I come forward to claim you from the royals." Aleksander said, "My father doesn't approve of this. There is nothing between us except teacher and student." I said as I walked back to the horse. I was going to start heading back but he pulled me back and I looked at him. "Your father has no power over what the saints deem." Aleksander said 
I knew he was right but that didn't mean I liked the idea of the black heretic being my soulmate.  Still, after that, we headed back and I hardly said a word. Once I made it back I think I avoided him for a year and a half. I started missing Nikolai as I thought about a time when he was here in my memory. He'd joked he was going to marry me cause I wasn't his blood sister.
Fourteen isn't bad...two more years. I thought 
Those two years went by before I knew it and I didn't know what was going to happen. Count down to the day it was not going to work out, I knew Nikolai wouldn't make it back before this day. He'd been doing things across seas and I didn't even love my adopted brothers like family. Prince Vasily ignored my presence, the Queen didn't spend much time with me anymore, and the King...I locked my room at night now. 
Poor Genya...there's nothing I can do to help her. I thought 
By the time I was closing in on my sixteenth birthday, Genya came in to help me and she made me look presentable. I was to wear a tiara this time but I didn't feel the part as I sighed rubbing my arm. "You look great." Genya said as she looked at me in the mirror before she loosened my necklace to show the initials and modified the M to a K. It was temporary but it was for the best, "Might I suggest another necklace?" Genya asked as we looked over my jewelry for tonight. 
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 After getting myself ready for the night I was worried about all this, it was going to be a big party but it was also where Aleksander could come forward. "Are you excited, tonight your Grisha soulmate may come forward to claim you before another royal can." Genya said as I had two years to consider it. My Grisha soulmate is the black heretic, the reason the problem in Ravka was here. If I wanted to get out of royalty society then I had to accept him at least for now. "Perhaps." I said, "I heard the King talking about tonight, he seems to be interested in knowing who it is. Whoever comes forward will have a chance to become next in line for the throne if anything would happen to Prince Vasily." Genya mentioned
I looked in the mirror at her as I had no idea that they were giving me a claim on the throne. No wonder the general was so adamant about coming forward as my Grisha soulmate, he could get the throne if anything happened to the heir of the throne. "this claim to the throne that my Grisha soulmate would have...is only if I marry them, correct?" I asked Genya knowing marriage was an option for me. I didn't have to get married to get claimed as someone's Grisha Soulmate.
When Genya was done I sighed as I walked to the throne room with Genya behind me, the Queen had assigned her to help me when she wasn't assisting the Queen. As I walked in there I saw everyone who was there, my parents were there as I nodded to them. I think they were awe-struck with seeing me dressed up like a princess. I was treated as one of the people as my hair was kept down to keep my Grisha soulmate's initials kept hidden. The king approached offering his hand as I took it and he led me up to where the thrones were. 
"Thank you for coming, today is a special day. Amira turns sixteen today and is of age to enter into a courtship but since she is Grisha. Her Grisha Soulmate may have first claim of her if he is present and steps forward." The King said, Amira silently prayed he wouldn't move as she looked and her eyes met Aleksander's eyes. Yet, against her silent prayer he walked forward and bowed "Moi Tsar, I am Amira's Grisha soulmate. I bear the proof here." Aleksander said as he showed his wrist to the King showing my initials AS for Amira Silina. "On her neck, you will see my initials there." 
As the King let my hand go he looked at me "Amira, if you will." The King said as I sighed before moving my hand and pulling my hair to the side. There on my neck were the initials AK for the King to see. I knew the truth, it was AM but a tailor had the power to manipulate for a short time as he planned. Genya worked for him, he had this all planned out. "I see, then you are claiming her. I assume." The King said, "Yes, Tsar. I want nothing but to make her happy." Aleksander said 
I saw the King give his approval as he motioned for me to go, I held back my sigh as I walked down seeing Aleksander offer his hand and I took it. "From this day, I will do everything to show you I want nothing but your happiness." Aleksander said to me, but I could see past his words. I was the Sun Summoner who was also Tidemaker so he had use for my powers. I had to be formal with him for now "General, I had no idea. What shall I call you from now on?" I said, a lie in front of everyone. We both knew I'd known his name for two years. "Aleksander." He said as he kissed the top of my hand.
We mingled with guests who were wishing us good fortune in our future, while others I heard whispering how inappropriate it was for the General to be my Grisha Soulmate. If they knew how old he truly was they would talk more. After we talked more, we finally made it to my parents. I figured my father would not be happy and say something but he wanted me to have my freedom. 
"You are Amira's father." Aleksander said to my father, I looked at him waiting to find out what he would say. "We've met before General, our mother's are very well acquainted." Father's words were clear as day for me, I knew they were both four hundred and something years old. "Ah yes, I thought you were familiar. I have heard great things about Amira's grandmother. Sad she hasn't had a chance to meet such a powerful Grisha. She is still alive, correct? It's so very rare for Ancient Grisha to be alive." Aleksander said as he looked at me and he seemed to be staring at me. "Your daughter is beautiful and I will make sure to take care of her." 
I could see Father wanted nothing more than to use light on him but that wasn't an option. This was the saints who had chosen this union and I had to accept it even though right now I didn't. I looked at my father knowing that for now, he had to trust in this union to work. Aleksander was my freedom from the royal family. 
When the music started, Aleksander led me out to the dance floor and danced with me. Unlike the last time we danced, I wasn't smiling but I put on a fake smile when the King was looking. "You're unhappy." Aleksander said I knew there was things I didn't know about him. "How can I trust you?" I said as I looked at him. Aleksander merely looked at me as we danced. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you. I'll try to get your things moved to the little palace so you can have more freedom." Aleksander said 
Why don't I trust you completely? I thought 
I looked away as we danced and sighed a bit "I can't trust you'll be loyal. You've probably laid with others." I said as he twirled me while we danced. "I guess I'll just have to earn your trust. How about I start with getting you out of here?" Aleksander said as I looked at him knowing that was probably best. The King did creep me out and I think Aleksander could figure that out. 
After the party, he kissed the top of my hand leaving me with my real parents as he went over talking with them. "I still don't like him." Father said, "We must trust he knows what he is doing father. As he is the only one who can get me out of here." I said calmly, I had to make this work for my freedom. "What did you hear about the throne?" Mother asked, I sighed knowing I wouldn't tell him this. "I have a claim on it, if something ever happens to the heir." I said knowing that was all they needed to know.
When he walked over, he seemed very confident as if he won in whatever he was talking about. "It is done, tomorrow you'll be staying over at the little palace in my hall." Aleksander said I was surprised it was that easy for him to convince them. Then again he had a certain charm everyone fell for in some way. 
TagList: @lifeisingrey,  @houseoftoomanyfandoms
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rashamon · 3 years
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𝙳𝙰𝚉𝙰𝙸 𝙾𝚂𝙰𝙼𝚄   ―   #𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺𝚂𝚃𝙾𝚁𝚈
viewer discretion is strongly advised before continuing:  this headcanon includes strong mentions of self harm, child abuse and neglect, child trafficking, sexual abuse, suicide attempts and ideation, torture and murder.
dazai may be a stray dog but he was not always an orphan, in fact, he is a self made orphan after murdering his mother and father and trying to kill himself. this is the same instance of suicide that brings him to meet mori at the age of fourteen. without the intervention of mori, dazai would have very likely been institutionalized in a juvenile prison. mori is able to use his connections to prevent this from happening so he can groom dazai into becoming his right hand man. 
dazai osamu murdered his parents because they abused, neglected, and trafficked him as a product rather than a son. they were not married to each other and his mother was very young while his father was much older. for fourteen years, dazai was exploited in any way they could manifest to use him and make money for themselves. this often included selling him to people who would sexually abuse him and sometimes harm him in more sadistic ways as well, contributing to his many bodily scars which he hides beneath his bandages. dazai was taught to steal and pickpocket while manipulating adults into forgiving him when he was caught. he can’t recall the exact point when he stopped feeling all together but he soon developed a habit of harming himself in order to create the sensation he was lacking. it was the only sense of connection and fulfillment he knew. this includes cutting himself with various objects, burning himself with flames, drinking alcohol and smoking cigarettes under the age of fourteen and other various self destructive behaviors. dazai often times started fights even if he knew he couldn’t win.
when dazai finally murdered his parents, it was the straw that broke the camel’s back. he hated them, and he had for a very long time. eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore and snapped when he ended his father’s life and then his mother’s when she wouldn’t stop screaming. dazai didn’t try to kill himself at first, but instead continued to live inside their apartment while his parents rotted into the carpet. he felt nothing for them, no guilt or remorse and the smell wasn’t much worse than the disaster they already lived in. the anguish he felt came from not feeling anything at all, it disturbed him and he understood he was not normal. eventually, dazai made his way up to the roof, covered in old blood, and jumped, but instead of ending up in a coffin, to his chagrin, he ended up in a hospital.
dazai doesn’t see the future, he has been ready to die since he was a child and every year he is alive, he feels more like it’s a joke at his expense rather than a gift. he doesn’t celebrate his birthday because he never has and in general feels extreme dysphoria at the fact that he has somehow managed to stay alive. he thinks it’s funny, in a manic sort of way. he wasn’t offered a future until mori entered his life and dazai witnessed him murder the mafia boss at the time. this created a strange bond between them because dazai had never met another murderer before, and felt a kinship with mori in that sense, or perhaps just insidious intrigue.
mori trains him viciously, the only way the mafia knows how to raise kids. he is subjected to various kinds torture to make him impervious to it in the future. he is taught to shoot which dazai quickly excels at, finding it an enjoyable pass time. he practices everyday for hours, wasting thousands of bullets perfecting it. he is taught to fight but he’s never quite good enough at it, his advantage being his speed and leanness. he excels mostly at dodging and avoiding rather than brute force. for the first time in dazai’s life, he is something and he likes it. he’s placed above the others and this only inflates his adolescent ego. he enjoys killing and takes a sick pleasure in how he does it so well. no one really protected him in the mafia, and he was quietly taken advantage of by some of the older peers, which he would inevitably murder too. 
mori found dazai’s inclination to kill himself, unprofitable and distasteful. dazai was his prize and in mori’s mind, dazai belonged to him. dazai, of course, didn’t give one shit about how mori felt about his suicide attempts. he knew mori only cared for his life because he wanted to use him more, their relationship becoming more hostile the older dazai got. dazai once threatening to cut out his own eye to make himself useless to mori as his hired gun. mori goads him further into doing it, telling him if he does that it will only change dazai’s purpose within the mafia - convincing him that there are still uses for young boys with one eye. dazai understands what he means - it’s a threat and dazai believes him. he’d rather be a gun with privilege's than return to the past abuses. there’s a small and faint scar beneath his left eye that goes uncovered since he no longer wears bandages over it. the continuous use of bandages over his eye were more of a reminder than anything that even without two eyes - he is still useful and it hardly ended up effecting his efficacy with a gun.
the first time someone truly cares for dazai in a genuine, non pervasive way, is odasaku. this is confusing to dazai and he makes a joke of it because it doesn’t make any sense to him. given everything he is, he doesn’t think he’s worthy of any pity or any assistance and especially not love. it’s exactly odasaku’s love that sends dazai into a spiral after he is killed and gives him his last words as a parting gift. never in his life has anyone ever believed that he could be good. never in his life has he ever believed that - and yet here is the one person he believes in and trusts - telling him that he can be good. 
"  i know it makes no difference to you, but please become a good human being. save the weak, protect the orphaned. i suppose you don't care for either justice or evil...but striving to be a better person is a wonderful thing.  "
dazai never cared if anyone died, and for the first time he was devastated by a death. dazai abruptly leaves the mafia after this and approaches taneda who directs him toward the ada. taneda tells him he needs to lay low for two years to clean his past, ango is able to help him with that and he goes ahead shuts himself in for a few years with money he had stashed away. spending those years in solitude and bars trying to figure out what he believes about the world and what odasaku meant when he said he could be good. he spends those years pitying himself, and contemplating his existence and suicide. when he comes out of this, it is spawned by another thing within him that he doesn’t understand. this will to live despite having no reason at all. 
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mercheswan · 4 years
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He is Mine!
You can also find it in AO3 -> User: MerCevans
“Okay kids! Let’s go, first day of Elementary School, we’re leaving in five!” Peter Hale shouted descending the stairs.
Theodore Raeken-Hale heard his dad’s call and quickly grabbed his shoes and his bag, he stopped in front of the mirror to look at himself, Theo wanted to look good, today was an important day, he was going to meet other kids, human kids, and that made Theo uneasy although he wouldn’t admit it.
Theo was five years old and he was a Werewolf, like the majority of the members of his Pack, his family. Theo didn’t born as a werewolf, though, his parents died when he was a baby, and his father, Peter, saved him and adopted him. He turned into a Werewolf thanks to the bite, that was given to him, by his aunt, the Pack’s Alpha, Talia Hale.
Theo adored his family. He had a step-sister, Malia, she was five years old too and even though, she and Theo fighted a lot, deep inside everyone knew that they really cared for each other. Theo also had three cousins; Cora was also five like Theo and Malia, she was serius and matured for her age’s, but when Theo and Malia planned a prank she was always on board with it. Derek  was eleven, Theo admired him, Derek was strong and very popular, Theo wanted to be like him in the future. And Laura who was fourteen years old, was meant to become the Pack’s Alpha someday.
Theo exited his room and met Malia on the corridor. “Malia wait!” Theo said joining his sister.
“We have to run or Dad is going to leave without us!” Malia exclaimed as she started to run towards the Mansion’s entrance, Theo following behind.
“Are you excited?” Theo asked.
“I guess… I’m worried too… you’re so much better at control than I am, I don’t wanna hurt someone or show my fangs or flahs my eyes accidentally” Malia responded.
Theo, Malia and Cora had been learning to control their powers. People couldn’t find out about them being Werewolves. Despite being kids they were stronger than an average person and they could injure someone unintentionally, so they have to be careful.
“You’ll be fine” Theo assured and Malia smiled.
Theo and Malia met their father at the entrance who was waiting with Cora and Talia.
“Finally! Come on children to the car, we want to make a good impression on your new teacher, right?” Peter said and the kids chanted affirmatively.
“Remember your training, you’ll be fine, have fun, you’re making the Pack really proud” Talia proclaimed saying goodbye to the children.
                           ————————
Mieczyslaw “Stiles” Stilisnki was on the verge of dying of excitement. Today he started Elementary School, he had been waiting for the day to arrive, Stiles wanted to meet and play with his classmates, and show them his new “super cool Star Wars backpack”.
“Mommy, mommy come on! We don’t want to be late!” Stiles bounced at the entrance of the Stilinski household.
Claudia Stilinski, Stiles’s mother, laughed “Mischief wait! You have to grab a jacket is a little bit chilly outside”. Stiles adorably cocked his head to the side assessing what her mother wa saying, before nodding and running upstairs to grab a jacket.
“You’re full of energy today Siles, Did you take your adderall?” Noah Stilinski questioned his son.
“Yes Dad!” Stiles exclaimed.
“Be good, listen to your teacher and don’t be too noisy” Noah advised.
“Nonsense! Just be yourself Mischief, you’re going to make very good friends this year” Claudia assured his son, hitting his husband on the arm.
“Well I’ll be going, I’ll see you tonight so you can tell me all about your day, okay kiddo?” Noah said kissing his son on the head. Stiles cheerfully nodded.
“Bye Dad! Come on Mom we have to leave too” Stiles excitedly said.
Claudia followed his imperactive child to the car with a fond smile on her face.
————————
Peter Hale parked his car in the Elementary School’s parking lot. There were lost of people already saying goodbye to their kids. Parents and children crying and shouting everywhere. Peter’s and the children’s Werewolf senses were overloaded. Peter sighed, what an exhausting day.
The children exited the vehicle. Malia noticed that Cora smelled nervous and took her hand to calm her down. Peter was proud of her girl, Malia wasn’t a very sentimental kid, she was very connected to her animal side, but gestures like this proved that she had an soft side too.
“Let’s go to the entrance, we can see in which class you’re going to be” Peter claimed and the children followed him.
They walked towards the entrance. Then Peter felt a tug in his trouser, Peter looked down and saw Malia pointing with his finger to the other side of the parking lot. Peter glanced at the direction his daughter was signalizing and saw Theo walking in the opposite direction, apparently lost. What’s he doing? This kid is way too good at sneaking it’s going to be problematic in the future Peter thought.
Since Theo exited the car there had been something, some kind of pull inside him that was calling to his senses, to his inner wolf. Theo could hear many hearbeats, he could hear many voices, there were too many people but if he focused enough there was one heart who beated louder than the rest. There were too many scents in the air but Theo could sniff clearly the sweet scent of someone who smelled like chocolate, cinamon, lavender, enthusiasm, and some chemical substances that usually would bother Theo’s senses ,but for some reason Theo couldn’t understand, they didn’t.
Theo needed to find this person, they were here, so close, and his wolf was ordering him to identify them. So without thinking too much Theo moved away from his father, sister and cousin in walking in the direction his instints were telling him that he would find them.
When Theo saw the boy for the first time he paralyzed. The boy, who had to be his age, was breathtakingly beautiful, with pale skin covered in moles and a bright smile, he was talking with a woman, his mother allegedly. Theo needed to hold him, now.
Theo stood in front of the boy who looked back at Theo with a smile and a questioning expression. Theo smiled back and out of the blue hugged the boy who made a cheerful noise and hugged Theo back. When they separeted theo shocked them even more.
“Mine” Theo claimed with a grin taking the boy’s hand into his.
Peter who was walking towards Theo to collect him heard what his son said thanks to his Werewolf hearing and froze. Wait did he? He can’t possibly have found his… Peter thought.
The Werewolf reached to his son. “Theo you can’t wander around, you can’t leave my side” Peter schooled his son.
“Dad! Look! I found him, he is mine!” Theo excitedly shouted while rounding the boy with his arms. Oh my God he did! Peter’s mind screamed.
“No, no Theo, we don’t own people!” Peter said to his son trying to make him behave like a human.
���But Dad! He is so pretty, look at him he is perfect!” Theo protested not letting go of the boy. Peter could feel his son’s inner wolf’s anger, ready to defend the boy who had caught his eye from whoever tried to harm him. Peter needed to calm Theo down.
“Theo that’s enough! You can be the boy’s friend , I’m sure he would like to make a new friend” Peter reasoned with his son. “I’m so very sorry about his behaviour, he must be nervous because it’s the first day of school” Peter apologised to the boy’s mother.
“Oh no, don’t worry, your son is adorable. See Mischief I knew you were going to make good friends this year. I’m Claudia Stilinski nice to meet you” Claudia said.
“Peter Hale likewise. First day is always stressing, for them… and for us” Peter responded and Claudia laughed agreeing.
“Mischif?” Theo asked.
“Only mommy calls me that! My name it’s from a coutry that’s very far away and it’s very difficult to say. It sounds like Mischief and that’s why mommy calls me that, but you can call me Stiles, people call me Stiles, I like it!” Stiles happily rambled.
“Stiles” Theo repeated the name, and Stiles smiled.
“You are weird” Stiles claimed. Theo’s smile dropped from his face, Peter could feel waves of sadness coming from his son. This is not going well The adult Werewolf thought. “I like it! let’s be friends!” Stiles cheerfully exclaimed. Theo grinned widely and both children laughed. Peter huffed relieved.
“I’m Theo” Theo introduced himself. “You smell so good” Theo said sniffing Stiles’s neck.
“It tickles! Hahaha!” Stiles giggled out loud.
“Theodore!” Peter threated.
“You are pretty too” Stiles said blushing a little bit. Theo’s look at Stiles’s words could only remind Peter of those japanese cartoons the children watched in which the characters had hearts in their eyes. Theo never acted so sweetly with anyone this kid must really be the one Theo’s wolf chose. So young… It’s incredibly uncommon Peter thought.
“Dad… we have to go inside…” Malia intervened with Cora next to her, the two girls were confused about what was happening.
“Oh you’re right! Come on sweetheart, come on” Claudia added.
“Who are they?” Stiles asked looking at Theo.
“My sister and my cousin, Malia and Cora” Theo explained.
“Oh! Nice to meet you! I’m Stiles, I’m Theo’s” Stiles said making Peter jump out of surprise. The boy smelled human to Peter he should not be able to feel the bond between he and Theo.
“You’re cute” Malia said.
Stiles smiled brightly. “Thanks! You’re pretty too, like Theo, and you too!” Stiles said speaking to both Malia and Cora.
Theo growled and grabbed Stiles’s hand. It appeared that his inner wolf was jealous about his boy complementing other wolves. Malia and Cora turned around to look at their relative with widen eyes. Rule number one don’t growl or howl at people. Peter was seriously considering taking Theo home his wolf was out of control.
“Wow! That was so cool! You sound like a dog! No! Like, l-like a wolf! Do it again!” Stiles exclaimed.
“He can’t!” Cora confronted.
“Do you like wolves Stiles?” Malia questioned.
“Malia!” Cora hissed.
“Umm yes, they are strong and like big dogs that sing to the moon” Stiles answered.
Theo smiled. “I love wolves. What’s your favourite animal?”
“The fox! They are very nice and the move their tail when they are happy and they like to play a lot!” Stiles blurted.
“You can be a fox and I can be a wolf” Theo claimed and Stiles squeezed Theo’s hand happily.
“Wolves and foxes don’t like each other” Cora argued.
“The can be friends if they try!” Stiles argued back.
“Oh kids look almost all the children have already enter. Mischief, be good I leave you with your new friends” Claudia kissed her son.
“Let’s go inside” Malia proclaimed
“Theo, maybe you should come with me home, you are a little bit out of control” Peter suggested trying to make his son realize that he wasn’t acting as he was supossed to.
“No!” Both Theo and Stiles chorused. “I’ll be good I promise, I’ll be with Stiles and obey the teacher” Theo pleaded.
“Ok. Behave all of you” Peter conceded.
Theo, Stiles and Malia grinned widely and Cora smiled softly. They entered the building where a lady guided them to their class.
“I like you backpack. Star Wars is so cool!” Theo said. Stiles stopped and looked at Theo with awe before hugging him tight. Theo giggled.
Both Peter and Claudia looked at their sons Exchange with fondness.
“I’m so glad that my son met yours, they are going to be very close, aren’t they?” Claudia said softy to Peter.
“Yes, I think they will” Peter responded. “Your child is very special”
“So is yours, they were bound to meet. I guess we’ll see each other a lot” Claudia smiled, Peter nodded. This family is very interesting is like they are connected somehow to the supernatual, or at least they feel it insome way Peter thought.
Peter drove home and when he entered the house her sister intercepted him.
“How did it go? Were they nervous, everything went all right?” Talia questioned.
“Cora and Malia were nervous and excited at the same time. Theo found his mate” Peter blurted.
Talia froze. “What are you talking about he is five!”
“The mother was nice, there was something mystical about her, and about the boy too. And driving back home I realized that I had heard the last name Stilinski before, I belive the husband is a deputy” Peter explained ignoring his sister.
“Peter! Theo is a child you can’t possibly know for sure that he found his mate!” Talia insisted.
Peter shrugged. “Some people find them before others” Peter concluded sitting on the sofa. An exhausting day indeed.
Theo Raeken-Hale is five years old and a member of the Hale Pack. He, his sister Malia and his cousin Cora are starting Elementary School.
When Peter drove the kids to school the last thing he was expecting was for his son to find his mate.
"Mine" Theo claims hugging Stiles.
"Theo, we don't own people!" Peter hisses
"But he is beautiful! Look at him!" Theo insist.
Stiles giggles. "You're weird! I like you!"
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Theo's mate couldn't be an ordinary human. It had to be a bright one.
"Because you're Werewolves!" Stiles exclaimed.
"What makes you say that?" Laura asks covering her panic.
"It's obvious" Stiles says.
Oh well.
Theo, Malia, Cora and Stiles were seven years old. They were doing homework in the Hale Mansion.
Stiles integrated himself nicely in the Pack. Malia loved him and although Cora pretended to be bothered by his attitude sometimes, she really liked him too. The rest of the members got used to the imperactive human’s presence. Even Derek didn’t mind having the little mischievous kid around. Stiles was noisy and loud but he was beloved by the Werewolves. They understood the bond Theo and Stiles had and they knew how sacred it was.
Theo was smitten by Stiles even more than the day they met. Theo had a talk with his aunt about the bond he shared with Stiles. She called them mates, Theo didn’t care he knew that Stiles made him happy and that he wanted to protect him and be with him forever.
Stiles’s parents were happy that their son found loyal friends who treated him right. Noah and Claudia often diner with the Hales. Talia wanted to have a good relationship with them. Talia knew she would have to eventually tell them about the supernatural, them and Stiles, but she wanted to wait a bit more until Stiles was older. That was her plan.
Stiles closed his book roughly “Done!” Stiles exclaimed.
“Already? You’re too smart Stiles!” Malia complained, everytime they made their homeworks together she was always the last one to finish it.
“I finished too” Theo claimed and Stiles smiled at him.
“Don’t lie, you haven’t done the last two questions” Derek said to his cousin lying on the sofa reading a book. He had been entrusted with supervising the kids.
Theo poutted bitterly not liking getting caught.
“Cheater!” Stiles accused with a laugh.
“What’s going on here?” Laura asked entering the living room.
“Homework” Cora answered concetrated in her book.
“Finish already! I want to play baseball! I won’t see you in the next few days” Stiles pouted.
“Why not? Are you leaving with your parents Stiles?” Laura questioned.
“No, but It’s the full moon in two days” Stiles responded making the five Werewolves of the room froze.
Derek closed his book and looked at Laura with a little bit of panic in his eyes.
Laura collected herself. “And what does it matter that is a full moon?” She carefully asked.
Stiles looked seriously at the future Alpha. “You are Werewolves, you get affected by it, don’t you?” Stiles allegued.
Derek’s eyes widened, Cora, Laura and Theo looked at Stiles with an atonished face.
“You told him?” Malia asked Theo, who looked at her sister denying it.
“Malia!” Derek hissed. Stiles looked at the Wolves with a questioning expression. “Mom!” Derek screamed.
“She is not home” Laura muttered. The rest of the Pack were working or dping some chores.
“Uncle Peter!” Dered shouted again.
“What’s wrong?” Stiles inocently asked.
“You called?” Peter said entering the living room.
“Stiles says we are Werewolves” Cora blurted making the rest of the Hales look at her with a surprised expression.
Peter blinked “I see…” He said calmly. “Why do you think that Stiles?”
“It’s obvious” Stiles said. “Theo is a Werewolf so you have to be too”.
“Why is Theo a Werewolf?” Malia asked.
“His favourite animal is the wolf, and Theo makes cool wolf noises too. He is also very strong he moved alone the big wardrobe that time when I lost my pencil. Also they found claws of an animal in Jackson’s jacket the day he was really mean to me. Theo is sniffing me all the time and he licks me with his tongue too” Stiles explained. “That only happened once!” Theo protested. Stiles giggled. “Sometimes Malia’s nails are super long, your eyes” Stiles motioned to all the wolves “are very bright” he added. Stiles faced Theo “Your eyes flash yellow, they are beautiful” Theo smiled sweetly at the compliment.
Peter hummed out oud. “Have you tell anyone about this Stiles?
Stiles denied with his head. “It’s a secret, right? Our secret!” Stiles answered.
“Yes is a secret. You can’t tell anyone Stiles, bad people could come after us” Peter explained.
“Ok, I won’t tell. I’ll protect you like Theo protects me” Stiles claimed looking at his mate, Theo grinned widely before kissing Stiles on the cheek making the human blush. “Do you turn into wolves?! Can I see!?” Stiles asked animated.
Laura smiled. “No we don’t we only shift a little,  we can show you other day” Laura said.
“Well mom can turn into a real wolf” Cora added.
Stiles beamed. “Cool!”
“I will be able to turn into real wolf when I’m older” Theo claimed trying to impress Stiles.
“You don’t know that!” Malia argued.
“Kids! You can finish your homework later, Why don’t you go play in the backyard?” Peter sugggested.
Stiles agreed enthusiastically grabbing Theo’s arm and running towards the backyard.
Derek, Laura, Cora and Malia stood there watching at the older wolf. “He was going to find out sooner or later, the kid has a very bright mind, don’t worry, since the begining Stiles has been able to feel somehow the mate bond with Theo, he won’t do anything to harm him, or us” Peter reassured his family. “Go to play” Peter insisted. Malia and Cora stood up and and ran to join the boys.
“Are yo usure it’s gonna be all right?” Derek questioned.
“Yes. I guess we have to invite the Stilinskis to diner after the full moon, and we will have to invite everyone” Peter proclaimed.
It would have been better to wait a little longer, but seeing how happy Stiles made his son, everyhing was worth it.
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storiesbyjes2g · 4 years
Text
Genetics & Story Summary
Genetics
Even though we all know Melany looks nothing like Kameron, she doesn’t look exactly like Brytani either. Like, most of the time, I don’t feel like I’m looking at a younger Brytani. But they look so much alike I can’t tell what the differences are. Last night I decided to find out how they are different. I found Brytani in another save and aged her down. I aged Kameron down and took off his beard and skin details so we can really see him. I also took away Mel’s details even though they don’t change her much. I made a picture with them all side-by-side to compare.
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How about I never really realized Melany had a dimpled chin! And, how cool is it to learn Kameron gave it to her! (I feel like she should write a song about him called Dimpled Chin lol) I’m guessing her cheeks come from him because Noemi also has high, cute chubby cheeks as well. Mel’s face seems to be a little longer than Brytani’s, also compliments of Kameron, but I knew that one already. There is something about their eyes though. I can’t really tell what it is, but they are not the same. Are Brytani’s wider or something?
As far as skin tone goes, Mel is right in the middle, a shade darker than Brytani and a shade lighter than Kameron. I still think it’s funny how EA measures what is light and dark, but we won’t get into that in this post...or maybe ever lol.
Story Summary
This may get long, so I’ll put it under the cut.
Recently I welcomed my new followers and told you about my story. I appreciate everyone who has hopped on for the ride! 😘 So many of you have joined in on this silly little legacy drama, and I don’t want anyone to be lost. I’m going to catch you up so you know who everyone is and what’s going on because I don’t expect you to go back to the beginning, although it doesn’t take very long. I did that a few months ago. It was fun!
Ok! So you’ve met Melany and her parents. Kameron started this whole thing as my guy to save Strangerville. Afterward, I figured I would continue playing with him and give him a much deserved good life. He had the world famous celebrity aspiration, so he started hanging out in DSV and rubbing shoulders with celebrities. That’s how he met Brytani Cho and thus creating our dear, sweet Melany. But, Brytani is not about that relationship life, and things fizzled after he attempted to propose to her.
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It didn’t take long for her to leave. Bye Felicia.
Kameron and Melany left Strangerville for a new life in Oasis Springs. He joined the intelligence branch of the military and moved up the ranks. It was tough being a single dad, but he made it work.
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Brytani was hyper-focused on her career and made very little time for Melany, and Kameron held that against her. Needless to say, their relationship was never the same, and co-parenting was no walk in the park. Melany, however, attempted to make the best of her mother’s visits, though she wished she visited more often.
Eventually Kameron moved on completely and began dating. He had a few flings and a few dates, but when he met Nadia, he was like a moth to flame.
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They messed around a lot, and it didn’t take long for him to ask her to be his girlfriend. They dated for a while before he asked her to move in. He needed to see how things would work with her and Melany. It delighted Kameron to see how well they took to each other. I mean, Melany was an exceptional kid. Who wouldn’t love her? Nadia did and took her role in Kameron and Melany’s lives very seriously once she understood the family dynamics.
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Nadia’s pregnancy and the engagement happened around the same time. They had a son named Nathaniel Courtney Pierson, whom they call Nate. Life was very busy with a new baby, new house, and new city (Willow Creek). Once life settled down a little, they were married in Sulani.
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It should be noted that Melany began playing the violin at a young age. Kameron took her to El Selvadorada once, and it rained almost the whole time. She was going through a loud phase and picked up the violin; she loved it. She completed all 5 child aspirations which gave her a boost at learning adult skills. By the time she was a teenager, she had maxed the violin skill and had written her first song! She also started a SimTube channel. Between her two celebrity parents and the videos, she was a 4 star celebrity by her teen birthday.
Teen life for Melany was pretty average—aside from the celebrity madness. She had a group of friends she loved. She was on top of her studies and made A’s. She didn’t give her parents any trouble.The only complaint she has was with her mother. Brytani retired and came around more often, but still not often enough. By this time, Melany’s little sister, Noemi Amiah Pierson, was born, and she saw what she missed by not having two parents in the same house. Nadia was an excellent step-mother. Melany didn’t want for anything, and she loved and appreciated her. But she had a mother. Why couldn’t Brytani be like Nadia? Was something wrong with her? Did Brytani love her at all? She was secretly jealous of her young siblings, and those feelings ate away at her. She became withdrawn, cried a lot and made angry videos, but it didn’t help. Brytani was still a deadbeat mom. Melany expressed her frustrations once, but Brytani couldn’t make her feel better. She wasn’t the motherly type and thought Melany would be fine with Nadia not realizing the girl just needed her mom.
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Things got slightly better in their relationship, but this would always be a thing between them. Even now, long after Brytani’s death, Melany still feels conflicted about their relationship.
The Piersons moved to Sulani. Melany aged up and went to Britechester University to study Fine Arts. She stayed in the dorms her first semester and had two roommates. That’s how she met her current best friend, Dr. Anissa Thurston. She studied biology and felt a connection with Melany immediately. Being a popular celebrity, Anissa knew everyone would be all over her and act weird. She just saw a fellow freshman nervous about being in a new place and hoping everything would be ok and made it her business to befriend Melany. Little did she know their shared Bailey Kay fandom would create a near indestructible bond.
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Like any overprotective father, Kameron struggled with Melany going to college. He wanted her to stay at home for the first semester. And, as one could imagine, he was not ready for boys. Luckily, he made a friend in an elderly gentleman named Myron Churchill. He never had an older friend who could advise him from experience—a father figure. Mr. Churchill’s friendship became precious to him and helped a great deal.
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Melany met Nick Wilkinson at a party. She felt uncomfortable about the outfit her friend made her wear on top of everyone looking at and whispering about her being a celebrity and all. Nick approached her and started a conversation. He made her feel better and was terribly cute. All they did was talk, but he definitely left an impression on her.
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Brytani died, and Melany withdrew from school for the rest of the year. Nick called to see how she was and to express his condolences, and that’s how their friendship began. He was a huge movie buff and studying drama at Foxbury Institute to become an actor. He also was a huge nerd and avid gamer. Melany is also a gamer as Kameron was a gamer geek and raised her on video games and sci-fi. They were “friends” for a long time before he asked her out. After dancing around each other for so long, it didn’t take long for them to begin an official relationship.
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They graduated, and Melany goes back home to Sulani to figure out the rest of her life. At this point she had written and licensed 7 songs and had a few small performances. She loved performing but wasn’t sure if she wanted to be a full blown artist like her idol, Bailey Kay. Also, up until this point she had only been a musician. Few know this, but Melany is also a singer. She keeps it private, but the girl is talented. Despite this talent, she never considered being a singer or writing lyrics to her songs. But sometimes she hears words in her head. They repeat themselves and won’t go away, so she began writing them down. After having this experience a few times, she felt her music life changing and needed professional advice and reached out to Bailey Kay (after much coaxing from friends and family) who gave her some wise words.
Eventually, Melany decided to live in Brytani’s mansion in Willow Creek which she inherited. The thought of living there used to give her pause, but she wanted to be closer to Nick and her friends because traveling from Sulani to San Myshuno and Del Sol Valley was getting to be too much. Besides, she was a grown woman now and needed to get on with her life. Also, she felt like she caused the problems Kameron and Nadia had briefly in their marriage. She invited Anissa to live there as her roommate because she didn’t want to live alone and wasn’t ready to have Nick move in yet. But, soon after, he approached her about the idea and she agreed it was an excellent idea.
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That’s pretty much where we are now. Melany and Nick are living their best lives together. Nick is a dynamic actor and getting more popular by the day. Anissa finally got a job as a doctor and is looking forward to dating since getting over the breakup...that Melany caused. Yikes. We’ll hear from her about that soon, so I won’t steal her thunder, but I will say it almost ruined their friendship!
I hope this was helpful for the newcomers and nostalgic for the OGs. If you have questions along the way, just ask! 
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shes-an-oddbird · 3 years
Text
Yours, Mine and Ours
Day 1 of Dousy Week! Crazy how a drabble I intended to be short and sweet turned out to be nearly 2,000 words but when I go to write my multi chapter fic I can't crank out 3 coherent sentences. Anyways please enjoy another variation on Daniel gets hurt and Daisy doesn't handle it well. Hopefully with a little twist. :) 
*Story has nothing to do with the movie of the same name
Summary: After spending the day in recovery with no sign of Daisy, Daniel goes in search of her in their room, only to find that its her room now and he lives next door. Dousy Week 2020 Prompt Close Calls (and New Horizons - Kinda).
ao3
Its cold. That’s the first thing he really notices. The second is that he can barely pry his eyes open and that lifting his hands to his face to clear them isn’t going to happen. Its drugs again. What an awful feeling. But he’s not on a battlefield or on the floor of some dingy barn. There is something soft beneath him and something warm holding his wrist.
As his senses slowly return, he manages to turn towards the source of that warmth. There is blurry dark hair and dark eyes staring back at him. He blinks a few times, excited to see her face but realizes soon something’s not right.
“I’m sorry, I know I’m not the sister you were hoping to see.”
Kora is standing next to his bed, there is a chair across the room she likely jumped up from when he started to stir.
“What happened?”
“Attacked on a supply run.”
“I thought we were on a non-hostile planet.”
“We were but getting a whole planet to agree on whether the giant ship full of humans with their extremely powerful inhuman director is not a threat is never going to happen.”
“So it was rebels?”
“They hit you with some sort of toxin, its out of your system now but it sent your vitals crazy, people in charge gave us an antidote to try to smooth things over but they didn’t know how effective it would be on a human.”
“Was anyone else hurt?”
“We’re all fine.”
He relaxes back onto the bed. He’s still groggy but if the poison is out of his system than its probably just a side effect of being asleep and stationary so long.
“That’s odd they didn’t try to take out more of us, we were unarmed.”
“Daisy and I are never unarmed and when you didn’t answer your coms, well needless to say they scattered when she came to find you.” That probably didn’t help tensions, but he was thankful. The reason their team was as safe as it was traveling through space was because no one really wanted to risk crossing Daisy and Kora and that gave them time to prove they were only there to make peace. “She was here, the whole time you were out, medics couldn’t get her to wait outside, she only just left a few hours ago, asked me to be here so you wouldn’t be alone when you woke up.”
“Where is she now?”
“Her room.” Kora answers. “She put us back on track for earth, no more stops now that we’re refueled, you’ve got an appointment with Simmons when we get there by the way.”
That was a given. Simmons was the expert on alien biology, whether she was officially working for SHIELD or not. “Did she say when she was coming back?”
Kora looked uncomfortable. “She didn’t say, I’m sure soon though.”
When the day passes with no sign of her he can’t take it anymore. Its late in the evening and most of the crew is turned in for the night. He knows he shouldn’t be out of medical yet, but he thinks if he gets caught, he can just say he’s gone to get a change of clothes or a sweater from their room.
He slides open the door, relieved to see a light on. She wasn’t asleep yet.
Daisy is just sitting up when he steps inside. She’s clearly startled to see him, her eyes are wide and worried. “What are you doing here, you shouldn’t be up yet!”
She looks a mess and that’s saying something seeing as he’d spent time with her shortly after she had literally died. She obviously hasn’t slept but that wasn’t unusual. Her eyes are red, her hair looks unwashed and she dressed in an oversized t-shirt and shorts. She may have been trying to sleep or at least lying down because there is no work spilled across their bed like it often was.
“I wanted to – “ He wanted to see her. Her tone is full of worry though and he thinks she probably wants to hear a better excuse. “I needed a sweater, its freezing in those recovery rooms.”
“Oh.” She shifts uncomfortably. This was not at all the reaction he had expected. As the number one rule breaker on the ship he thought he'd get a earful of teasing for leaving without doctor approval or maybe at least she'd look happy to see him. “You should have just asked for an extra blanket.”
He steps over to their dresser thinking he might as well grab one for when she hauls him back down there. “I wanted to stretch my legs too and wanted to see you of course.” She stays quiet. He pulls open the top drawer of the dresser to find it empty. He opens the next one down. Also empty.
“Daisy where are all of my things.”
“They’re next door, in your room.”
This stops him.
He does in fact have a room next door, though it’s never been used. It’s really just for show; they are an official branch of SHIELD and every agent was required a bunk. Just the same, Daisy’s bunk was bigger simply because she was in charge. Not because it had been designed to accommodate two people.
He had thought the room had felt different when he walked in and a second glance around tells him his things have vanished. He’s not a messy person but his belongings that are always out, his books from the nightstand and his typewriter Daisy had given him that sat on their desk, were gone.
It hits him quickly what’s happening. He’d been warned, not once, not twice but three times that this would happen. That if he got hurt, she was going to pull away. Mack had warned him, Simmons had elaborated on why and May, thank god, had advised him on how to handle it.
She’s stubborn and the only way to get through to her is to be even more stubborn.
“So this is your solution, to put a wall between us, literally.” He asks but she doesn’t answer, just sits cross legged in the middle of their bed looking thoroughly unsure what to do or say. “Daisy, what happened wasn’t your fault.”
“Yes, it was, they attacked you because they don’t trust me.”
“That’s not your fault, you didn’t give them any reason not to trust you.”
This he realizes doesn’t make her feel any better.
“Please go.” She lays back down. Turns her back to him and faces the wall. He needs to get closer to her and make her look at him. It's the only way to get through to her. He crosses the room to the bed and lowers himself carefully to the edge.
“Please just go.” She whispers and curls farther in on herself.
“I’m going, but you want me and all my stuff out.”
“I already moved all your things.”
He reaches out to tug on her sleeve. Though she probably wore the old t-shirt more, it was technically his. It was the first thing the team had given him to change into and ever since he had kept it to sleep in. “This is mine.”
She sits up and glares at him and maybe it’s the resemblance but May’s word ring through his head again. How was anyone supposed to be more stubborn than she was? He tugs at her sleeve again and she jerks away. Whatever anger she has built up she can’t maintain and it leaves her with a heavy sigh. She pulls the shirt off but rather than hand it over she inspects the thread bare fabric and the faded SHIELD logo. Goose bumps run up her arms and back as the chill hits her, now dressed only in her sports bra and shorts. His instinct is to reach out and warm her up, pull the t-shirt back over her and wrap her in the thick quilt at the end of the bed. 
But he has to be stubborn, he reminds himself again. So instead he reaches out to take the t-shirt and it does the trick. He pulls at it but she refuses to let go, her fingers gripping it like a lifeline. He uses it to pull her to him and she comes willingly. It’s an overwhelming relief as she sinks into his arms but her sniffling and the wet tears soaking into his shirt doesn’t let him enjoy the victory long.
“It was different this time.” She mumbles.
“What do you mean?”
“It hurt so much, but you’re still here.” Not like Lincoln or Trip or even her parents. “All those times before I lost what I had, I’ve always lived in the moment, day to day, too much going on to think ahead, but now, with you, I was – I was losing a future too.”
He'll admit that takes him by surprise. “You think about our future?”
She nods. “I’ve never really done that before, not far into the future anyways.”
He supposes that’s where they differ most; maybe it’s the generational thing but he’s been thinking about their future practically since the day they met. “What do you think about?”
“I don’t know,” she starts to sit back up, embarrassed or scared to say. He lets her rearrange herself but doesn’t let her move too far away. She’s leaning into him but her face its still turned away. “Just us being older together, after our space adventures or whatever, maybe working at SHIELD to help Inhumans together, I think you’d like to work at the academy, maybe getting married, maybe a family.”
As she speaks, she gets quieter and quieter until he can only barely hear her, but he does. He holds her tighter trying to express how much he would like that to be their future without saying it out loud. He knows Daisy well enough that actions are sometimes better than words. And sometimes the necessary words were for breaking the tension. “Well I’m flattered that I’m apart of it, but I think sticking me in a different room might be a step back.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“We’ve had this conversation before, we’re both prone to running head first into danger, I thought we agreed that that was going to be a regular thing and that staying together was just our selfish reward for being so damn self-sacrificing 99% of the time.”
She laughs and sits up again, finally, really looking at him. “We did agree to that.”
“Good, so I can move my stuff back in?”
“No.” She says climbing out of the bed. “But you can march yourself back down to medical and just as soon as we’re back on earth you are getting an earful from Simmons on proper bed rest and wandering around after literally be pois – “ He cuts her off with a kiss and he feels her smiling against his lips.
“And after all that?”
“After that you can move back in.”
"Good." He kisses her again and in her distracted state he manages to steal back the t-shirt. He pulls away enough to slip it back over her head. "This can be yours until then." 
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rosethornewrites · 4 years
Text
Fic: this body yet survives, ch. 1
Relationship: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn
Characters: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén, Lán Qǐrén, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín, Jiāng Yànlí
Additional Tags: No War AU, Recovery, Trauma, Dissociation
Summary: Wei WuXian continues to recover from his traumatic near-death experience, and the cultivation world slowly reacts to the event as well.
Notes: I hesitated to write this because I’m already writing two multichapter fics. But I already started this and I have Plans, so it’s too late. So here we go. Please note that in the coming weeks the new semester will start and so my writing time will be much curtailed. The title of this is taken from another Mei Yaochen poem. His poems are really lovely. My favorites deal with grief and longing. I really need to look into finding translations—a translation I found of 不知夢 was haunting. Alas, this pandemic doesn’t make getting books easy.
Parts 1 & 2
AO3 Link
---------------
“Xiongzhang, shufu, I wish to court Wei Ying.”
WangJi had decided to be forward about his desire. Most would approach such a conversation in a roundabout way, starting with idle conversation, but WangJi preferred to be direct, especially in this.
Truthfully, he would have sought permission before now, but Wei Ying was fragile, even after he had finally broken through to him. 
When he had brought him to his siblings after his admission of hunger, Jiang YanLi had cried when he actually ate, kept filling his bowl, and had since made it her personal mission to get him back to a healthy weight. Jiang Cheng’s reaction had been stronger; he had given Wei Ying an almost violent hug and demanded he never worry them like that again.
“I’ll try not to,” Wei Ying had said. 
“If you… I was going to kill a-niang if you didn’t get better. She’d deserve it. She does deserve it.”
Jiang Cheng’s voice had been filled with vitriol.
Neither sibling had wanted to part from him, particularly after he admitted to having nightmares, and the four of them had stayed in the jingshi that night, with XiChen as an amused chaperone due to Jiang YanLi’s status as a young maiden. WangJi had not expected to be included in the sleepover, but he had been pleased by it nonetheless.
“I was there, but I wasn’t,” Wei Ying tried to explain, struggling both to find the words and stay awake. “I knew what was going on around me, but I didn’t really feel anything. Interacting was hard, like trying to run underwater.”
He had fallen asleep long before hai shi, after Jiang YanLi had stuffed him full of lotus and pork rib soup, spicy baozi, and osmanthus cakes she had personally prepared in the kitchen. He had sprawled on a blanket in what was normally an anteroom of sorts in the jingshi. Jiang Cheng had covered him with a second blanket with a surprising amount of tenderness.
“How did you get through to him, second master Lan?” Jiang YanLi had asked in the quiet that followed. “We were so worried.”
Answering that question was not easy; he had not then been ready to admit his feelings to anyone but Wei Ying.
“I composed a guqin piece for him,” he finally said.
The smile Jiang YanLi had given him was knowing, and made it clear she was pleased and accepting of his intentions toward Wei Ying, though he knew he would still need to formally request permission of her and Jiang Cheng in the future if he wished to court him.
Jiang Cheng, thankfully, had not seemed to get the implication and just shook his head.
“He always was more musical than anyone else in the family. A-Niang hated that, wouldn’t let him play the dizi. Just another thing she decided to be awful about,” he had muttered angrily.
“‘An angry man is full of poison,’” XiChen had advised softly, quoting Confucius. “Your anger will not change her, only yourself.”
Jiang Cheng nodded, but his lips twisted.
“She wanted me to hate him. Kept pitting us against each other, comparing us. Still, I never thought she would…”
He shook his head, and Jiang YanLi squeezed his shoulder gently.
“Blood or not, a-Xian is our beloved brother,” she had said. “And she hates that. It may be unfilial, but we choose him.”
WangJi had insisted Jiang YanLi take the bed, as was appropriate. He settled in for the night beside Wei Ying, xiongzhang on his other side. Jiang Cheng slept on the other side of Wei Ying, sandwiching him between friendly bodies; if he woke from nightmares, he would not be alone.
But it had been WangJi who woke to hear Wei Ying’s soft whimpers and panting in his sleep, to see his furrowed brow and the fear and pain in his features, even asleep.
“Wei Ying,” he had whispered. “You’re safe.”
Wei Ying hadn’t stirred, but had curled toward his voice, wound up burrowed against his side, and let out a soft sigh, his brow relaxing as he fell deeper into sleep, away from the nightmare that had been plaguing him.
WangJi’s last thought before falling back to sleep had been that Wei Ying fit against his body like it was meant to be.
Shufu’s cup froze halfway to his mouth, but his expression was one of resignation. Xiongzhang simply looked pleased.
“He has been doing better these past weeks,” XiChen commented.
WangJi only nodded. 
‘Better’ was the best descriptor. At times Wei Ying still seemed more absent than present, but the mind healers were able to speak with him more than they had before and seemed optimistic. He ate more, though he sometimes needed prompting or reminders of the food if he seemed to fade from reality. He was starting to look healthier.
“Sometimes,” Wei Ying had confessed after one of his fading episodes, “it’s like the world is too bright and loud.”
Even in the serenity of Cloud Recesses. The mind healers, he had said, told him his mind was protecting him when the world was too much for him, as it apparently had been for a full year after his near-death.
Wei Ying had, haltingly, started to play the dizi WangJi had bought him, sometimes losing himself in the music entirely. The battered dizi among his possessions, he explained, had belonged to his father, something he had left behind at Lotus Pier after eloping with his mother. Jiang FengMian had stored it away for his return, but instead Wei ChangZe and CangSe SanRen had died on a night hunt. 
The dizi had been given to Wei Ying when he was found and brought to Lotus Pier, the only item he had of his parents’, but he had been banned from playing it by Yu ZiYuan. Instead he had hidden it away in his room.
Playing the dizi also often overwhelmed Wei Ying, leaving him beyond exhausted, the memories associated so fraught. WangJi had seen tears spill down his cheeks as he played more than once. But when WangJi mentioned the idea of attending music classes to learn GusuLan cultivation songs, he had smiled. 
WangJi had set up a meeting with the instructor, Lan MingKai. Despite the rule against gossip, all of GusuLan knew what had happened at the Lotus Pier discussion conference. Normally this would be displeasing, but the result was not: Wei Ying was treated with kindness. Not only had the instructor been welcoming, he had even offered individual morning music lessons. Wei Ying was, in fact, attending a lesson while WangJi had tea with his brother and uncle.
Overall, Wei Ying was more present, more expressive—nothing like he had been before, but after so long without seeing him smile at all even the small ones were precious.
“Yes,” WangJi said. “It is gratifying.”
Shufu cleared his throat and took a sip of tea, setting down the cup before speaking.
“Why seek our approval, WangJi? Why not his siblings’?”
“Wei Ying is of GusuLan now,” he reminded softly; it was polite to seek sect approval. “I will seek their approval following yours.”
This explanation seemed to please shufu, who nodded, stroking his beard thoughtfully. 
“It has been troubling to see Wei WuXian so… quiet,” he finally said. “I never thought I would say I prefer him more lively, but…”
In conversations over the last year, shufu had expressed concerns. He had seen people severely traumatized in the past, their personalities changed by pain. He had kept up with the mind healers and offered suggestions on activities WangJi could use to try to engage Wei Ying.
“There have been times the mind healers have not been able to help,” he finished after a moment. “I was becoming concerned this might be one of those cases.”
WangJi set down his teacup, afraid he might break it in reaction, his entire body clenching at the idea that Wei Ying could die.
Shufu watched him, something in his face softening.
“He will still need help in his continued recovery, WangJi. And he may never recover fully.”
“I wish to be by his side regardless,” he stated, and his voice came out hoarse.
Xiongzhang placed his hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently as though to soothe.
“You have my blessing, WangJi. You always have.”
WangJi almost smiled at that, remembering how XiChen had pushed him to form a friendship with Wei Ying, how he had resisted. He hadn’t known how to handle his burgeoning emotions, had been afraid of them. Xiongzhang had known long before he himself had.
“You have mine as well,” shufu added. “A marriage would make GusuLan’s acceptance of Wei WuXian more concrete and indisputable.”
XiChen nodded, looking thoughtful. 
“After what he has been through, and what I have heard of his childhood from Jiang WanYin, that stability would likely help him heal.”
WangJi resisted his immediate urge to ask after that information, but if Jiang Cheng wanted it known to him, it would be. He refused to violate Wei Ying’s privacy by asking others or even him. If Wei Ying wished him to know, he would tell him.
Shufu interrupted his thoughts.
“WangJi, you need never fear he will face ill treatment here. No physical punishment. No seclusion. He will not be turned out. He has suffered enough.”
Tension WangJi hadn’t known he’d been carrying eased all at once, the fear that Wei Ying would, once healed, face these punishments and, if they were married, be subject to the same treatment his mother had suffered... The last thing he wanted to do was add to the trauma Wei Ying had already been subjected to by making him a prisoner. He had already watched him nearly die and then wither away into almost a ghost once; he refused to do it again.
“Thank you, shufu.”
“He may have a penchant for… antics,” shufu continued. “But none of them have been harmful. They’re simple pranks, nothing worth what he has suffered.”
Silence fell between them, and WangJi did his best not to remember mud-caked pale skin and blue lips, the gurgling gasp of Wei Ying’s desperate breaths under Jiang YanLi’s screams. He feared if he closed his eyes, that would be all he would see, not the gentle whorls of the dark table, the condensation on the teapot, not the steam rising from its spout.
They had been among the first to respond to Jiang YanLi’s screams for help, having happened to be nearby at the time. Shufu, having the best knowledge among them of healing, had not hesitated to dirty his robe in the mud, passing qi to Wei Ying as he lay bleeding from his nose, eyes, ears, coughing up blood and river water, dangerously close to qi deviation after his desperate and dangerous use of his spiritual energy to free himself. 
Shufu had ordered xiongzhang to get help, ordered WangJi to help him, clearly knowing WangJi would refuse to leave if asked. Wei Ying had moaned in pain when shufu turned him onto his side, and that was when they saw the tears in the back his clothing that left him almost naked, the blood seeping from lash marks, had noticed the bruising on his face and neck, the bloody fingers that curled in the mud as though seeking something to hold onto.
WangJi had removed the outermost layer of his robe to drape over him, to preserve his dignity in front of the array of faces that were coming to investigate Jiang YanLi’s screams. He had taken his hand then, had watched Wei Ying, eyes wide and terrified, try to focus on him, saw him mouth his name. All he could do was assure him he was there and keep holding his hand when Wen Qing arrived and started snapping orders to everyone. 
“It probably helps that he has never gone near your beard,” xiongzhang commented, his tone almost forcibly light, an attempt to dispel the tension.
Shufu seemed to shake himself, as though dispelling the same memories haunting WangJi, or memories of his own.
“CangSe SanRen probably considered her crowning prank the time she shaved my beard while I slept,” shufu said, his voice almost fond. “I rather hope he doesn’t attempt that.”
WangJi hesitated before speaking.
“Wei Ying knows very little about his parents,” he said softly. “He would probably appreciate any stories of his mother you would tell him.”
After a moment of hesitation, shufu nodded.
“She was a very bright person,” he murmured. “Much like Wei WuXian was, before.”
His countenance had a sort of sorrow to it, and WangJi wondered if Lan QiRen, like Jiang FengMian and others of his generation, had also loved CangSe SanRen. Whether she had upended him like Wei Ying had upended WangJi. Or perhaps shufu felt the loss of Wei Ying’s light, and it reminded him of her death.
“Tell him I will speak to him, when he is ready,” shufu said. 
WangJi wondered if shufu was ready, but he held his tongue. That his uncle was thinking of Wei Ying’s condition, letting Wei Ying decide if and when he was ready to learn more about his mother, was a kindness. He was still recovering from the damage his adoptive mother, however much she didn’t deserve and had refused the title, had done to him.
“I will let him know.”
They pause to sip at the cooling tea, to enjoy the breeze coming in through the window and the sound of the windchimes gently clinking beyond, the peace of a morning in Cloud Recesses.
“Please also let young master Wei know that he is not required to invent talismans so regularly,” xiongzhang said as he poured more tea. “His recovery comes first. And he need not feel he owes GusuLan for offering sanctuary.”
“Not simply sanctuary,” shufu clarified. “Wei WuXian is a GusuLan disciple, should he wish to be. He need not offer compensation for his care.”
WangJi frowned, considering all that had occurred. Certainly, shufu’s words to Madam Yu had made Wei Ying’s welcome clear, but he didn’t know that Wei Ying had been capable of listening then, so soon after his near death and in the midst of insults and verbal abuse. The announcement of such so publicly at the discussion conference meant that Wei Ying’s status as a GusuLan disciple was known to the cultivation world. 
But it didn’t necessarily follow that it was known to Wei Ying.
“Has Wei Ying been informed? Formally invited?”
He watched as his uncle and brother had a silent conversation that left them both looking abashed, and knew this was something that had been lost in the chaos of what had happened, had somehow not been noticed in the last year, an oversight.
“I will speak with him,” xiongzhang insisted. “He already wears GusuLan robes, so we thought…”
“He wears them because they are white,” WangJi reminded him. “He grieves still. I gave him blue robes, and he has not worn them.”
Shufu frowned, his expression almost pinched, close to a wince. XiChen closed his eyes, as he always did when overwhelmed by emotion. WangJi felt the same guilt they did; it had been a year, and none of them had clarified his welcome, too focused on his dissociation with the world, his healing, when this information could have aided in his recovery. None of them had clarified that this was his home.
“I will have a forehead ribbon prepared as well,” shufu said. “We will present it to him, and apologize for the delay.”
“Perhaps you should also make sure his siblings are aware,” WangJi said gently.
Shufu actually winced, which told him the issue had also not been discussed with them, either. WangJi wondered if the Jiang siblings had realized Wei Ying would stay at Cloud Recesses, or if they had planned to follow Wei Ying wherever he went after Gusu.
“I would recommend speaking to them first,” WangJi advised. “Perhaps before I ask about courtship, so they do not assume the two are related.”
“Or dependent,” xiongzhang murmured, as though he had read WangJi’s mind. “We owe them a tremendous apology. After what nearly happened… they’ve feared for his future all this time. It must be one of the reasons they’ve stayed.”
They had many, WangJi knew, and he was certain both XiChen and shufu knew as well. The biggest one was the lady of Lotus Pier, who may have given birth to both of them but could clearly not be trusted.
“We will rectify this,” shufu assured him. “Wei WuXian is of GusuLan.”
“And when he is ready to stop wearing white, that can certainly be accommodated,” xiongzhang added. “He seemed rather fond of black and red, as I recall.”
Shufu twitched but did not protest.
The bell indicating si shi rang, and WangJi rose, bowing properly to his brother and uncle. It was time to collect Wei Ying from his lesson.
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headfulloffantasies · 4 years
Text
Birds Fly the Nest
Read on Ao3
Jim Gordon faces the unquenchable interest of the Gotham’s rogues into the romantic life of his daughter
1.
Jim Gordon heard that the Batmobile had soundproofing. That once a villain sat secured in the backseat, Batman drove in brooding silence. Gordon’s police cruiser was not the Batmobile.
Harley Quinn warbled into her hundredth verse of “One Million Bottles of Beer on the Wall” as the car sped towards Arkham at increasing speed. Montoya had a lead foot at the best of times. With a crazy clown singing off key in the back? She became a NASCAR racer. 
Gordon twisted in his seat. “Can you please stop?” He ground out at Quinn.
The clown grinned manically. “You’re no fun. I’m entertaining myself.”
Gordon rubbed his aching temples. “If I tell you a story, will you be entertained enough to shut up?”
“Yippee!” Harley bounced and clanked her handcuffs together. “Story time!”
Gordon cast his mind for anything at all to chatter about. “So, my daughter,” he starts. “Brought a new boy home last weekend.”
Montoya met his eye in the mirror. Gordon grimaced. 
He continued. “This kid is perfect. Like a glossy magazine, you know? Firm handshake, scholarship awards, good job, good family. But something about him felt odd. You know when you meet someone and you know they aren’t being genuine? And I think I’ve met him somewhere before. So I look him up. He’s a circus freak. Used to perform trapeze with his parents until they got murdered.”
Montoya raised an eyebrow. Harley gripped the caging between her and Gordon, utterly rapt.    
    Gordon swallowed and went on. “I like the kid, really. But what kind of guy can go through his parents’ murders and still be okay? Something has to be wrong with him, right? How can I let my girl keep seeing a guy like that?”
    Harley hummed. “D’you want my professional opinion?”
    Gordon faltered, forgetting that Harley had once been a renowned psychiatrist. 
    “I think,” Harley said. “That Papa Bear is too protective of his little girl. You gotta let a gal have her space. My daddy didn’t let me date. Not one boy ever looked at me my whole life living under daddy’s roof ‘cause they knew what daddy’d do to them if they tried.” Harley sighed. “I ran away from home, did you know that? I wasn’t there when mama died. And I missed daddy’s passing too. You gotta keep those ties if you don’t want to regret them.”
    Gordon suddenly viscerally remembered that Harley’s father had killed his wife and gotten the electric chair for it. He swallowed hard. “Right. Thank you, Doctor Quinzel.”
    “Oh sugar, call me Harley,” the clown laughed. She rattled the caging. “Are we there yet? Nine hundred thousand ninety- nine bottles of beer on the wall-,”
    Gordon groaned and buried his head in his hands.
2
    As the arresting officer, it fell to Gordon to interrogate Harvey Dent once he’d been cuffed to the table in police headquarters.
    Gordon set a cup of horrid cop coffee in front of Dent and took his seat across from the gangster.
“Harley says your daughter’s stepping out with some circus freak,” Two Face sneered. 
    Gordon slumped in his seat. What had possessed him to tell Harley Quinn, gossip extraordinaire, about Barbara and Richard? 
    “I remember your little girl,” Dent said. “You still keep her photo on your desk?”
    “Of course,” Gordon snapped. 
    “You ever lie to her, Jim?” Dent asked in a low growl. “She ever lie to you?”
    A shiver ran down Gordon’s spine. His mind flashed to purple bruises and shoddy excuses. “I don’t want to talk to you about Barbara, Harvey. Let’s talk about your attempted robbery.”
    Dent grunted. He leaned his elbows on the table. “You gotta be two-faced about men seeing your girl,” Dent advised. “Smile when she’s in the room and give him the what for when she’s not around.”
    “Thank you, Harvey,” Gordon said. “That’s very insightful.”
    “If you don’t, he’ll get the idea no one’s watching,” Two Face went on. “Think he can get up to something, if you catch my drift.”
    “Harvey,” Gordon forced his voice to remain even. “My daughter is a grown woman. I’m not sabotaging her relationships just because the guy is a freeloader.”
    “Freeloader?” Two Face laughed. The sound rasped between the halves of his ruined face. “You let your girl go out with a tramp?”
    “No,” Gordon corrected himself. “His family has money. He doesn’t work. He has a trust fund or something.”
    “That’s worse,” Two Face hissed. “Nepotism. Elitists!”
    Gordon abandoned Dent to his rant. He got up and walked out of the interview room. The door shut on Dent’s shouting.
3.
    Honestly, it was Gordon’s own fault. He leaned against the side of the police cruiser while he and Montoya waited for the arresting officer to bring Catwoman out of the museum. He complained to Montoya while they waited, not taking note of the approaching feline criminal with her escort.
    “This is the third time we’ve scheduled dinner with Richard, and he bailed every time. Last time, he got called into work. Tonight it was a family emergency. What did I say the first time was?”
    “Food poisoning,” Montoya responded automatically.
    “Sounds like a jerk,” Catwoman purred. 
    Gordon spun around. The arresting officer loaded the lady in her black catsuit into Gordon’s car. Gordon shot Montoya a panicked look. She returned a face that said “You started it.”
    Gordon got into the passenger’s seat hoping against hope that Catwoman wouldn’t feel up to chatting after her disastrous encounter with Nightwing.
    “Tell me more about Richard,” Catwoman suggested.
    Gordon groaned. “I regret every word I’ve ever spoken with Harley Quinn.”
    “So do I,” Catwoman grinned. “But tell me more anyways.”
    “I’m not discussing my daughter’s life with criminals,” Gordon said resolutely into the windshield.
    “You’ll tell Harley, but not me?” Catwoman pouted. “I’m hurt, kitten.” She leaned forward. “I’ll tell you this for free. Any man who can’t be bothered to meet his girlfriend’s parents is a cad. Break them off now.”
    “I said,” Gordon repeated. “I’m not discussing this with you.”
    Catwoman hissed. If she could, Gordon bet she’d dig her claws into his neck. Instead, they drove on in silence. 
4.
    Gordon placed a hand on a cuffed Edward Nygma and guided him into the back of the police cruiser. 
    Nygma flashed Gordon a grin over his shoulder. “Riddle me this, Commissioner. What has two sides and has everyone in Arkham talking?”
    “What the hell, Ed?” Gordon rubbed his eyes. “I don’t even want to guess.”
    “Spoilsport,” Nygma pouted. “I’ll tell you, but only because I am also curious about this scoop. Everyone wants to know about your sweet daughter’s trashy boyfriend.”
    It’s like playing that stupid telephone game, Gordon thought. Nothing he said came out right on the other end. “He’s not trashy, Ed. He’s bougie.” Gordon preened at his correct use of the hip word Barbara had taught him. 
    Ed scoffed. “A classist? You allow your daughter to date a class traitor?”
Gordon leaned his head against the car door. “I don’t want to get into it, Ed. I’ve had a long night.”
“So have I,” Ed shrugged. “Batman kicked my face in and I’m going back to prison. But your little story is much more interesting.”
5.
Transporting Poison Ivy gave Gordon the creeps. She was a literal walking biological weapon. The faster he could get her to Arkham, where they knew how to deal with her, the better. Gordon flipped the sirens on and stamped on the gas. They tore through Gotham, just Gordon and Ivy in the police cruiser.
“So,” Ivy purred from the back seat. “I hear there’s another ginger causing you trouble tonight, Jim.”
Gordon’s hands flexed on the steering wheel. “I’m not talking about it with you.”
“I would never let my daughter date someone I didn’t like.”
“You don’t have a daughter,” Gordon reminded her.
“But if I did-,”
“Heaven forbid it.”
“James, that’s unkind,” Ivy pouted. 
“Shove it where the sun don’t shine,” Gordon ground between his teeth. 
6.
    “Do you fear losing your daughter to another man?” The Scarecrow’s soft voice rose the hairs on the back of Gordon’s neck. Gordon gripped the steering wheel tighter. It was a long drive to Arkham. He’d rather nip this conversation in the bud.
    “No,” Gordon bit out.
    “Really?” Crane hummed. His handcuffs clinked together. “It would be normal for a man of your position and power to fear losing control of a loved one’s life. Especially one who has been dependent on you since her birth. You raised her. She’s your flesh. Yet she deigns to place her life in the hands of another man. Does that not scare you?”
    Gordon ground his teeth. He didn’t answer.
    “From what I hear,” Crane continued. “Your daughter’s new man has more money than you’d ever make. More prestige.” He paused. “And more trauma. Does it not scare you to think what kind of monster lies under his skin?”
    “He’s not a monster,” Gordon insisted. 
    Crane chuckled. “We’re all monsters, Commissioner.”
    Gordon swallowed hard.
    “I’m shocked you let her date him.”
Gordon slammed on the brakes. Traffic screeched around the police cruiser. Gordon spun in his seat. He stuck his finger in Crane’s face. “Listen up. I want you to deliver a message down your Arkham grapevine. Word for word, got it? My daughter is her own woman. She makes her own choices. I am not her keeper, her warden, or her owner. And if even one of you could get it through your fat skulls that people are not puppets to control, then I would weep for joy.”
+1
Gordon got the call just as he was leaving the office. Victor Zsasz was terrorising Nightwing and Batgirl downtown. Gordon grabbed his coat and raced for his car. 
He arrived just as the ambulance pulled up. Gordon’s stomach dropped. Zsasz had a terrifying body count under his belt. If anyone needed the ambulance… Gordon shuddered. He unclipped his gun, ready to storm the building. 
The door flung open. A hogtied Victor Zsasz tumbled down the stairs into the street. The other officers on the scene swarmed him, shouting and making the arrest. 
Gordon looked up. Batgirl stood proudly at the top of the steps, her hands on her hips and chest puffed out. She noticed Gordon standing there watching. She waved him over. 
Gordon trudged up the steps. A dark smear of blood stained Batgirl’s purple sleeve. 
“Commissioner,” Batgirl saluted Gordon. 
“Good work,” Gordon said.
Batgirl swallowed hard. “I need your help. Quietly.”
Gordon agreed without thinking. “What can I do?”
Batgirl grabbed his arm and pulled him with her back into the building. She led him through a series of business offices into a janitor’s closet. Even in the dark, Gordon noticed the drops of dark liquid on the floor. 
Batgirl pushed aside a rack of cleaning supplies. 
Nightwing slumped against the wall, his legs spread over the floor. He clutched a wound in his side bleeding all over his uniform. He didn’t look up when Batgirl knelt at his side. 
Gordon cursed. “Is he-?”
“He’ll be okay,” Batgirl promised.
Gordon wasn’t so sure. The blue bird emblem on Nightwing’s chest hardly rose at all with his breathing. An overwhelming amount of blood pooled underneath him across the linoleum floor.
Gordon reached for his radio to call the EMTs in. Batgirl snagged his wrist.
“He can’t go to a hospital,” she said. 
“But-,”
Batgirl interrupted. “If I can get him home, he’ll be fine. I need your help getting him to the Batmobile. Please.”
Gordon nodded. He passed a shaking hand over his brow. “Yeah, alright.”
Gordon crouched and lifted one of Nightwing’s arms over his shoulder. Batgirl kept her hands pressed against the bloody hole in his abdomen. Gordon couldn’t stop his mind from swapping the young man with Barbara. What if it was her bleeding out on the floor? Would he so callously help a vigilante sneak her out the back door to receive questionable medical assistance?
Together they half carried Nightwing out to the alley behind the building. The legendary Batmobile sat purring on the asphalt. The chrome gleamed under the streetlights. The canopy of the Batmobile slid open when Batgirl pressed her hand to it. 
Gordon grunted as he helped lift Nightwing into the passenger seat. The kid roused enough to meet Gordon’s eye through his mask. 
“Hey, Mister Gordon,” he said. 
“It’s Commissioner to you,” Gordon grouched good naturedly. 
Batgirl hopped into the driver's seat. 
Gordon reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “I’m proud of you,” he said.
She quirked a smile. “Thanks Dad.”
He wished fervently he could hug her right now. But Gotham had eyes everywhere. He settled for another squeeze of her caped shoulder. “Just take care of your boy. Tell him this isn’t an excuse to miss Sunday dinner.”
Barbara’s laugh as she drove off was worth it. 
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aenwoedbeannaa · 4 years
Text
Forest Fires | Geralt x Reader | Part 7
Summary: You and your Witcher companion arrive in Ellander, where you encounter a familiar face. Unfortunately, being behind walls for the first time in years brings back some overwhelming memories.
Word Count: 3,068
Warnings: Might be triggering for those with PTSD or trauma. Panic attack, flashbacks. Nothing super graphic.
A/N: As usual—sorry for the delay in this chapter. I have so many WIPs, but I promise not to leave y’all hanging. Hope you enjoy!
Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6
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Forgotten Memories
For someone who has spent the past years not using magic, you are pleasantly surprised that the two of you emerge from the portal and into the very garden you’d seen in Geralt’s mind. More than a few girls, who you expect must be students, are standing frozen with their mouths agape.
You unwind your arms from around Geralt’s neck and take a couple steps away from him; you have only been here once before, and you are not entirely sure what sort of rules there are in a place like this. You never were one for religion. With magic, you hadn’t needed it. And after you ran away from your duties, you’d just assumed that even if there were gods or goddesses out there, they wouldn’t be looking down on you fondly.
The shocked silence of the temple garden is broken at last, by a familiar voice.
“Y/N?”
You turn your head to see someone you had not, if you were being honest, expected to see again during your lifetime.
“Yenna!”
The two of you rush to embrace one another; years of memories flooding your head and washing your mind full of pictures of Aretuza. Like so many others, Aretuza had been your first real home. Though at first, it seemed, the school was not much better than the cruel reality you faced outside of its walls. Tissia was a genius, but she could be cruel. Thankfully, it was not the same kind of cruelty you faced at the hands of your aunt and uncle who had taken you in after your parents died – that had been pointless and malicious. Tissia’s brand of cruelty was one meant to teach you something; to make you a better sorceress.
At one point, the school had been the only piece of the world that you had known, and seeing your old friend sends your mind in a whirl, back to the mind of a girl who knew nothing of the outside world until she was tossed out into it. Of course, you head ad been filled with images of going off to serve as a court mage, advising kings and queens. It had been an exciting prospect at the time – back when you still believed that rulers cared for their people; back when you believed that there was some good you could do advising one.
“You are quite possibly the last person I would have ever expected to see at the Temple of Melitele,” the raven-haired sorceress says matter-of-factly, but not rudely. That’s Yenna—blunt as always.
“I might say the same about you,” you say, corners of your lips twitching ever so slightly up.
“Everyone thought you were dead.” That statement hits you hard, as if you hadn’t wondered that. Still, you’d spent so long hidden out in the forest, always feeling as if you had to cover your tracks, keep your movements a secret – it was hard to think that people thought you were dead when you were constantly trying to hide from those who knew you were alive.
“Well, that had been the goal,” you admit. “After...” You trail off, not particularly wanting to recount your time in Nilfgaard. It had not been pleasant, but that went without saying. There was no need to relive it.
The raven-haired sorceress smiles wryly, “Believe me, I know.”
The two of you make eye contact for a brief moment that seems to stretch on far beyond the few seconds that it lasts. At Aretuza, you had seen one another as rivals – though no one could truly rival Yennefer. Now, there was a kinship between the two of you; two sorceresses who ran from their duties. You had not heard much of why Yennefer left, save the rumors that the queen and infant princess of Aedirn had perished because of her – but you did not believe those. Perhaps you had when you’d first heard them, but truth was, the aristocracy was cruel, not above killing one another for power.
Not above sending entire armies to sack an entire city and sending mages in to kidnap princesses.
Behind you, Geralt clears his throat, snapping you out of your reverie.
With your thoughts still somewhat muddled, you turn and extend your arm towards him. “Geralt of Rivia,” you introduce him yourself, “He’s a Witcher.”
Yennefer smirks, though there is a distance in her eyes that tells you she has not quite snapped from whatever thoughts and memories were flowing through her own mind.
“The famous White Wolf,” she says as she takes a couple of steps forward. “Mother Nenneke will be so pleased to know you’ve arrived at last.”
You raise an eyebrow, confused. He had not mentioned that he was expected here at the Temple. Though, the confusion written on his own face tells you that he had no idea, either.
“Iona the First,” Yennefer says matter-of-factly.
Geralt’s eyes light up as he acknowledges the name with a nod. You, on the other hand, have never heard the name, and only grow more confused.
“One of the priestesses here,” Geralt explains once he registers the befuddled look on your face. “She has certain... talents.”
“Even the temples have mages now?” you ask, still slightly bewildered. You’d never heard of such a thing. Though, you suppose you have been in hiding for quite a while, and before then, you’d had absolutely no interest in religion.
Yenna laughs, shaking her head and sending raven curls cascading about her shoulders. “Not a mage, no,” she says. “She has a gift. Goes into trances and teases out the future – or at least, possible futures. It’s really quite unsettling.”
“Sounds like it,” you mutter. This place is getting stranger by the moment, and being behind stone walls, no matter how expansive the open space within is, already has you feeling caged in like an animal at a market. Even worse, the Temple looks too much like a castle; like the castle you’d run from and like the castle you were ordered to take Cirilla from. That thought alone sets your heart racing.
Seeming to sense this, Geralt reaches out and places a hand under your elbow, steadying and reassuring. You are glad for it, given the fact that your hammering heart and racing thoughts were making your vision swim. Though, you suppose, it could also be residual effects of opening the portal after having used next to no magic in years. You remember the feeling quite well from your early days at Aretuza, when you’d leave a lesson so exhausted that you could hardly walk back to your room without falling over.
“Sorry,” you mumble, nearly tripping over your own feet when you try to shift your weight, but Geralt is there to support your weight, which seems to be growing heavier by the moment. “I’m just...” You trail off once more as you sway on your feet, prompting him to wrap his arm around you, allowing you to lean heavily against him.
“Opening the portal must have drained her,” Yenna says, her voice sounding quite far off, though you know she is only a few feet away from you. You are desperately trying to cling to consciousness. The last thing you want to do is show up here and look weak when this is supposed to be the beginning of some quest to find the girl. Right now, you are sure it seems that you are quite possibly the last sorceress on the entire Continent that anyone would want chasing after the Cintran princess.
Geralt, though his knowledge about magic is rather limited to the Witcher signs and some cursory knowledge that Visimir deemed necessary to his education, nods in agreement.
“She hasn’t used magic in years,” he explains while you struggle to keep your eyes open, “That portal was a first.”
“Well that’s one hell of a way to jump back into things,” Yennefer says. You can hear the smirk in her voice, and will yourself to smirk back. It certainly wasn’t the smartest way to go about it. Still, it wasn’t as if you had another choice. It could have taken weeks to travel here on foot or by horse, and it was clear that time was not something on your side – or at least it seemed that way. You just hope it is as safe here as Geralt claims it to be. A portal like that could easily serve as a thread for Nilfgaard to follow straight to you.
“Mother Nenekke has already arranged a room...” Yennefer trails off.
“One room is fine,” Geralt cuts in.
Yennefer nods, “Iola was able to track you, but she hadn’t seen anyone else in the trances.”
“Makes sense,” Geralt responds. You, however, have no idea how that makes sense exactly, but you are not in a place to ask questions. Thankfully, Geralt continues on, “She usually uses items connected to a person, and Nenneke wouldn’t have anything of hers.”
Yes, you suppose, that does make sense. That, and the fact that you have worked so hard these past years ensuring that you were about as untraceable and unfindable as possible. That could also have quite a lot to do with it. You just hope that this Mother Nenneke will not scoff at your presence. After all, if she is involved in this plot – or whatever it is – to retrieve the ashen-haired Child Surprise, she may think of you as the worst sort of scum.
Fear of that particular issue sets your heartrate speeding once more, which does nothing to help your current state. You feel as if your lungs are constricting, making it difficult to breathe. You slump against Geralt, unconsciously clawing at him as you attempt to regain your breath. He responds by scooping you up into his arms and nodding towards the Temple.
“Would be best to get her to the rooms so she can lie down,” he states.
“I’ll brew some tea that’ll help,” Yennefer adds quickly. “I trust you know your way around?”
Geralt mumbles a quick mhmm in agreement.
“It is, I believe, your usual room,” Yennefer states. You are drifting in and out of consiousness, and wonder momentarily exactly how many times Geralt has been here. It is, quite truthfully, the last place you’d expect a Witcher. Between yourself, Geralt, and Yennefer, is seems that Mother Nenneke keeps strange company indeed. You wonder how she hasn’t faced any sort of reparations from Termeria’s leaders. Though, perhaps they just as much interest in finding the girl as you three do – or possibly more, speaking from a political perspective.
“I... I’m sorry,” you choke out as the Witcher carries you through unfamiliar hallways, moving with the easy confidence of a person who feels himself to be at home in a place. “It’s just... magic, and the walls... I haven’t--”
“Shh,” Geralt cuts you off before you can continue on with your breathy sentences. “It only makes sense. No need to wear yourself out even more trying to explain.”
You would like to argue, but he is right. You don’t have the energy to spare between the incredible exhaustion caused by casting the first spell you’ve cased in years when you opened that portal and the panic that seems to have a vice grip on your throat. Truly, being behind walls is not something you enjoy.
It doesn’t take long for the Witcher to manage to make his way from the gardens all the way up to a set of rooms on the third or fourth floor – you've lost count. There is a large room with a desk, sitting area, and a large canopied bed, and you can see a door which you assume must lead to an adjoining bathroom. Despite the stone walls, you find that the room is bright and airy, thanks to several large windows that are open, letting sun filter in through billowing curtains.
Geralt carries you straight to the bed, setting you down gently on the cool sheets. Thanks to the open windows, the air smells of wood smoke at autumn, calming you as you force yourself to breathe in and out slowly, reminding yourself that you are not in Nilfgaard, and these are not the stone walls that surrounded you there. You are safe; at least that is what Geralt promised – and you are inclined to believe him. Still, you feel so incredibly useless lying here like this.
“I’m so sorry,” you apologize once again, “I just… It’s the magic, and the walls. I don’t like walls.”
Geralt sits next to you on the bed, stroking your hair in the way that he’s quickly learned calms your nerves. Yet, right now, you feel quite awful about it. You hadn’t wanted Geralt to see you like this. You hadn’t wanted him to know about this part of you – the part of you that is sometimes so gripped with fear; irrational fear of people and places that were far away, separated from you by time and distance. The woods had been safe for so long – it’d been easy to hide it from him there. But now… Things are quite different.
“In Nilfgaard, there were nothing but walls,” the words spill from you lips. “Nothing but walls, and…” you trail off, squeezing your eyes shut, wishing very much that you hadn’t spoken at all. The images flashing through your mind are all ones you’d kept locked away under lock and key, not allowing yourself to think about them, not wanting to relive these moments.
“Whatever happened in Nilfgaard,” Geralt speaks softly, still stroking your hair, “I promise you that I will never let it happen again.”
His voice sounds far off one more, thanks to the pounding of blood in your ears and spiraling thoughts, but you reach out and cling to his arm, attempting to anchor yourself, though you can’t manage to force out the words.
You are not reading his thoughts, nor would you have the strength to if you even tried. But, if you had been, you would have heard several rather graphic thoughts about how he’d like to hack whoever had done this to you – whoever had made you so afraid when you were perfectly safe here with him – to unrecognizable pieces. You’d also see, quite clearly, that he’d use his silver sword while doing so. After all, silver is for monsters.
Tears start to slip from your eyes thanks to a mixture of frustration and fear, making your turn your head to half burry your face in the soft pillow. It was bad enough letting him see you upset, it was even worse letting him see you cry, especially considering the years separating you from the things that you were crying about.
“It was a long time ago,” you mutter, “I… I shouldn’t be upset about it after all this time.” Your attempts at rationalizing yourself only serve to make you more frustrated. You are ashamed. Ashamed for things you had no control over, ashamed for things you should have been able to prevent, ashamed for everything. And yet, Geralt was still here, stroking your hair gently, yellow golden eyes fixed on you, face contorted in concern. He hadn’t known – couldn’t have known – that being behind walls would trigger this; all the fear and all of the buried memories forcing their way to the surface.
“Monsters do monstrous things,” Geralt is still speaking softly, his warm baritone drawing your out of your own head. “It’s not easy to forget things like that,” he continues, letting his hand slip down to your back, rubbing gentle circles across your skin. He says it with such conviction that you believe him, and it slows the thoughts spinning through your head.
“They… they were monsters,” you mutter. “The things they did.” You shudder involuntarily at the memory. To this day, you cannot forgive Aretuza for sending you there. You remember how your heart had fallen to your stomach when you’d learned where you’d be sent. It was no secret the way that they treated their mages in Nilfgaard. You were there to carry out orders and to be a glorified plaything. It wasn’t what you’d dreamed of all those years, no doubt about it.
Geralt is silent for a moment, giving you a moment to continue. “It was easy to forget about out there away from everything… I didn’t think that it would be this bad. I’m sorry, Geralt.”
“Stop apologizing,” Geralt says, sounding stern for the first time, “Please, Y/N. It isn’t your fault.”
You don’t know why, but you find yourself sobbing at his words, a mixture of relief and anger. You’d spent so long pushing away the memories; so long telling yourself that it was all your fault.
“Listen, Huntress,” Geralt speaks again, “I won’t let anyone hurt you. I won’t.”
You continue to sob into the pillow as his palm rubs slow circles on your back. You don’t know what you did to deserve someone kind as the Witcher – someone that people described as a monster, but that had so little in common with the monsters you’ve encountered.
Silence stretches between the two of you as you slowly start to calm down.
“Thank you, Geralt,” you finally speak. “Just promise me, when we get to Ciri, you let me kill every one of those fuckers.”
Geralt smirks, leaning over to press a kiss to your hair. “I certainly won’t stop you, Huntress.”
For the first time since panic had overtaken you out in the garden, you smile.
A moment later, you hear the door open and the click of heels against the stone floors. You shift in bed so that you can look up to see Yennefer entering the room carrying a small saucer of steaming liquid, no doubt full of one of the calming elixirs you’d been taught to make at Aretuza.
You are about to open your mouth to apologize to her as well, but she speaks before you get the chance. “Drink this, sleep, and when you wake up, we’ll figure out a plan to get those pieces of shit.”
A knowing glance passes between the two of you, two sets of eyes flashing dangerously. “Sounds lovely,” you smirk. Perhaps revenge is petty, but you have to admit – it feels good to think about it. And, after all, a few casualties might be necessary to find Ciri.
***
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