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rmg91 · 3 years

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Zoe Week; Day 5-ROTT

So I know we got given a free day considered ROTT was...what it was but I decided to still go with the prompt and it turned into more of a small rewrite than just a ‘Let’s slip Zoe into this scene’. Zoe is everyone’s braincell and we know it.

Also I tried writing a fight scene....I donno how well it turned out lol

AO3

~*~*~*~*~*~

“He WHAT?!”

Zoe stared at the assembled guardians, the kids, that had gone up against the demigods bent on restarting the world with that crazy plan to strip them of their powers, only for it to fail. Yes, they were alive. Yes, they had Nari, in spirit, but the Arcane Order had her body, had Douxie, and that was not okay for her! That stupid, self-sacrificing idiot! Of course he'd do something like that! But all it would do would buy them time and just what was going to happen when those power hungry beings found out?! It wasn't going to be good, that was for sure and now Zoe had to hatch a plan to try and save her idiot before something bad happened.

Ignoring the overlapping explanations and assurances they'd come up with a plan, Zoe marched her way out of the ex-throne room and down to what was becoming her studio. Shuffling around the various tomes and grimoires, she searched for the one she was certain had the spell she needed to find him, growling to herself when she couldn't. This is what she got for not sorting through all these yet. Finally, just when she'd been about to say 'fuck it' and do it without the book, she dug up the dusty purple codex of scrying and grinned in victory. Oh, she was finding that idiot of hers and then she was going to give him a piece of her mind once he was safe.

Coming back upstairs, the pinked haired witch flipped through the book, looking for the magic circle that would allow her to find Douxie. Ignoring everyone's voices, she quickly read through the directions, reminding herself how it worked and set to etching runes in the air with her wand. The symbols of power fell to the floor in sparking pink power, forming the necessary element for her spell. “Nari.” She called, “I'm gonna need Archie for a moment.”

The little nature spirit, inhabiting her partners body, let his familiar go from her hold as she finished the magic circle, sending the tomb to rest on the floor outside it. Sitting in the center, Archie crawled into her lap in dragon form, already having a feeling on what she was going to try to do. Normally she could sense Douxie's power, they'd known each other for so after all it was easy, but between distance and most likely being blocked, she couldn't without help. It would be easier if their magic was bonded, tied together for the rest of eternity and the ultimate sign of trust and love between magic users but...they weren't. Not for lack of wanting to but their lives had been pretty hectic and dangerous and bonding their magic came with lots of consequences as well as benefits. If one of them died...it would be the worse kind of hell on the other. And as much as they loved each other they hadn't wanted to have the other suffer so. But maybe, after all this, they'd change that.

“Uh..what are you gonna do?” Toby asked, standing near as he watched the pulsing pink runes.

“I'm going to track Douxie using the bond between him and Archie.” She explained, holding the dragon-cat gently, one hand scratching between his ears, “It should, in theory, help me find where the Order is holding him.” Then they would retrieve him and she was going to kick his ass for putting himself in danger, again.

Everyone took that as the queue to be quiet, to let her work, and Zoe breathed in deeply, letting her magic seep out and take shape. The circle glowed as she let herself fall into a trance, focusing on Archie, who was relaxed in her lap, his own magic open to letting hers in. She found the bond, a shining string of magic that was warm, comforting, powerful, reaching out beyond their little space in search of their missing wizard. She followed it as it swirled, twisting and turning through the space between, searching, searching, searching until-There! It sung brightly, tightening like a perfectly tuned guitar string and humming with life and she knew in that moment just where to find him.

Opening her eyes, a pink glow encompassing them, she grinned sharply. The Order didn't know what was coming to them.

~*~*~*~

The group entered the abandoned train tunnel, sans one Trollhunter, looking for any sign of the Order or Douxie. Zoe knew she had been harsh when she told Jim he needed to stay behind but she was not going to take back what she said. He was injured and therefore a liability and she wasn't going to let him kill himself or any of his friends if things were to go pear shaped. But hopefully they wouldn't and they'd be able to rescue Douxie with minimal trouble.

Her blue eyes roamed over the various crates and scaffolding, sensing him near but unable to see him. But she just knew he was here. Even as the group spread out and looked around old, crumbling crates and rusty metal drums, confused as to why they couldn't find anyone, Zoe was reaching out with her magic, searching for her wayward husband. Frowning down at the tracks, something just wasn't sitting right with her, she tried her best to see and think like Douxie would. There had to be something here she was missing...

She blinked, a thought coming suddenly and could it really be that easy?

Trotting up a staircase to get higher ground, she looked down at the tracks, shaking her head lightly because for some eon's old beings, Skrael and Bellroc really couldn't be original? “Their hiding in plain sight!” She shouted to assembled guardians, flicking her wand out and rearranging the train tracks, “They've made a giant sigil with the tracks!” The tracks moved, soon lighting up and dispelling the room around them, revealing a much darker room and three beings in the center.

She wasn't sure if they were aware they weren't alone anymore but it looked as if the demigods of ice and fire were taunting who they thought were Nari. She, or rather Douxie, was hovering in the air, held aloft by his hands in glowing magic and maybe, possibly keeping quiet as to continuing fooling the gods. But then, as they were staring confusedly as the Genius Seals, wondering why they weren't opening, he opened his big fat mouth.

“Abracadabra, Buttsnacks.”

Zoe groaned, because why had he said that?! But before the Order could do more than threaten him, she raised her wand high and cried, “Hey! Hands off!” She then sent a bolt of pink lighting down, just barely hitting Skreal, and then it was on!

Everyone jumped into action, firing and fighting the two remaining members of the Order. Zoe jumped down, joining the fray, firing spells and shields as she made way to Nari's body. She was put to a stop though as the icy wizard floated in front of her, brandishing his staff. Oh, if he wanted a fight, he was getting a fight. Ignoring Douxie's strained call of her name, the hedge-witch ducked a swing of the staff, dodging to the right and not giving in to Skreal's taunting. Hedge-witch or not, didn't mean she wasn't powerful and she wasn't about to let these bastards win.

Zoe fired spell after spell, wildly missing the floating god as he chuckled darkly at her. But that was okay, all part of the plan because when he least expect it she smirked and performed a round-house kick, planting her foot below his belt with a cry of “Rule Number Three!!”

As Skrael crumpled, she turned back to Douxie in Nari's body, running closer and hoping she could break the spell keeping him in the air. Fire had started to burn everywhere, the old wood catching easily to the spells Bellroc fired off but she ignored all that as she examined the magic around Douxie's wrists. She shushed him as he tried to talk to her, needing to concentrate on what she was doing, hopefully she wouldn't need Claire's help. Then a dark chuckle came from behind her.

“You won't break him free.” She turned to glare at Bellroc, their ever fluctuating voice grating on her nerves, “That magic is too powerful for even a full fledged wizard, let alone a little hedge-witch.” She growled as they laughed at her. And maybe she wouldn't be able to break it herself but if she could break this beings concentration... A wicked grin came to her face, feral as she remembered the chaos she'd wrecked at Killahead, and she began drawing runes behind her back.

“You're right...Guess I'll just have to make you break it.”

And with a flash of pink, twenty more Zoe's surrounded the demigod.

Crying out, Bellroc began to blast away her clones, easily poofing them from existence, which was fine as it was only meant as a distraction. The real Zoe dodged behind him, thankful for the rest of the crew keeping Skrael busy as she charged her magic. She'd only have one shot at this and she hoped it worked. It had been a while since she last did this. Bringing her now brightly flashing hands together, she drew them apart, a glowing, sparking, pink arrow held between them.

“Foolish girl! This won't defeat me!!” Bellroc cried with rage, dispelling the last of her clones.

“It's not meant to!” She yelled back before firing the arrow, sending a million volts through the wizard and causing them to spasm. And it was enough, for the spell holding Douxie up sputtered and died, dropping him to the floor. Zoe dived for his staggering form as Bellroc cried out again, pushing him out of the way of a blast of fire. Of course now she needed a plan to get them out of there...

Just as the fire god was approaching, already up from her attack and ready to end her life, a black portal formed beneath her and Douxie and they dropped away.

~*~*~*~

Zoe groaned as she was dropped onto the floor of Camelot, rolling onto her back. That had been...something. She really needed to practice that attack again, it took far too much out of her but at least now Douxie was safe. And Nari. She heard the rest of the guardians tumble in, shouts from their assembled allies rising and still she laid there, catching her breath.

“Zoe! Zoe, are you alright?!” She looked up at Douxie's voice, finding Nari's face above her looking at her with concern and they were needed to change back because this was just getting too weird. She watched him sag with relief, most likely due to her opening her eyes and he sighed, “You were nuclear, Love.”

“You better switch back before you kiss me, Casperan.” Was her only response.

Chuckling breathlessly, he nodded and she watched him hold out his hand for Nari to take, the goddess now crouching on her other side. A flash of magic and she was then being pulled into Douxie's lap, the wizard now back in his body. She let him nuzzle his face into her neck, still recovering from the adrenaline and almost overuse of her magic as they sat there, friends and allies all around.

“Thank you, Zoe.” Nari said softly, sitting primly in front of her, “You risked so much.”

“It's fine, Nari,” Zoe said, smiling at the forest child, “There was no way I was letting them keep your body and Douxie's mind.” Let alone risk the possibility of them forcing the two back into their proper bodies. Then they really would have been in trouble.

“So what do you do now?” She heard Claire ask because now they were back at square one. Keep Nari out of the grasp.

“I donno,” Zoe sighed, “But the important thing is the Order doesn't have Nari anymore.”

“That's not all they don't have..” The nature goddess smirked shyly before holding up the Genius Seals.

Zoe's eyes widen as cries went up around her, Douxie laughing in surprise, before she grinned wide and shark like. Oh, things were about to get interesting.

~*~*~*~*~*~

How the rest of the movie would play out from here I have no idea but there’s some choice Zouxie protecting each other/Nari/Archie so...there’s that. I hope you all enjoyed!

#ZoeAppreciationWeek #Zoe Week #Zoe #Douxie #Zouxie #Nari #ToA #Tales of Arcadia #Wizards #ROTT #Fanfiction #ROTT rewrite #Yeah Zoe and her arrows returned #heehee

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shameless-self-shipper · 2 years

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Hi! I’m Pie/Morel! This is my selfshipping blog!

-I am an adult

-I use she/they/neopronouns (neopronouns and how to use them are HERE.)

-Here is my selfshipping page! All of my ships and their tags can be found here!!

-My queue tag is “Abandon all hope ye Queue enter here.” Yes it’s long but I liked it.

:D Hope you enjoy my blog!!!

#Intro

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atmilliways · 3 years

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On the 10th day of Dethmas this writer gives to thee…

Dec 22 - Metalocalypse but it's a cheesy Hallmark holiday movie

He’s a big city notary, only in town to clean out his deceased grandparents’ condo.

He’s a small-town metalhead pot dealer/part time taxi service with no one to hang out with for the holidays.

Is it fate, or is it Christmas?

Chapter one of a Murderface/Pickles, what-if-Dethklok-never-happened AU. I went heavy on Pickles' accent for this and I refuse to apologize for my crimes.

Deck The Halls With Ughs & F*ck Yous

When you boiled it down to the bare essentials, the first half of the letter basically said, ��Merry Christmas, your grandparents are dead.”

Which, William felt, was kind of nice of the lawyer writing to him. He hadn’t liked his grandparents particularly much, for all that they’d raised him ever since the unfortunate murder-suicide that had claimed his parents. Everything he’d accomplished in life had been in spite of them. They’d wanted him to be a hubcap salesman like his grandfather; he’d gotten his notary license and done just fine. They’d wanted him to stay in the same kind of podunk towns they always lived in; he’d gone to the big city and landed a steady career notarizing deeds and titles for a huge real estate company. All they’d done was yell at him to make sure was still alive for seventeen years. Anyone could have done that.

It was the second half of the letter that was the problem. Apparently they’d had no money to leave him, just all the crap in a condo that needed to be emptied out by the end of the year so the next owners could move in. If he didn’t, there would be a ridiculously large fine due of some truly idiotic wording in the lease they’d signed.

A quick check online told him it would be cheaper to just fly out to this . . . Tomahawk, Wisconsin, throw all the shit in a dumpster, and be done with it. He had a couple weeks of vacation time coming up anyway, with Christmas and New Years, and no particular plans. Why not go? Maybe it would be . . . cathartic or something.

William sighed and reached to grab a credit card from his wallet. So much for a quiet Christmas to himself, holed up in his blissfully undecorated apartment with takeout from one of the best sushi places in the entire city.

Tomahawk was pretty much what he expected. Once he made it out of the four-gate airport with a baggage claim so slow that it might have been faster to walk instead of fly, it turned out there wasn’t even a taxi queue. He had to go back inside and call one himself. And it wasn’t so much a taxi service as something called “Pickles Cab” scratched in above the payphone.

As long as it had wheels and knew how to find the address, he didn’t much care. The dispatch guy had seemed kinda stoned on the phone, but hey, William figured, that just meant he might be able to find some to buy in the area.

The car was easy to spot because it was the only non-white thing moving in the snow-caked parking lot. William eyed the shitty old Vista Cruiser in shades of drab green, rust, and beat-to-shit wood paneling skeptically as it pulled up to the loading zone curb at an angle that was, frankly, terrible. The driver put it in park and popped out the driver’s side door with the engine still running, spewing thick steam out of the tailpipe in the frigid air.

“Hey dood, welcome to Wiscahnsin,” the guy called, waving. “Abandon hope all ye to enter here, heh.” He smirked. William recognized his voice as the person he’d talked to on the phone.

“Uh . . . hi,” William replied awkwardly, hefting his two suitcases,

“Trunks open. Lemme get it fer ya.” The driver hurried around to the back of the car and opened it for William to toss the suitcases in. He had a shock of red hair trying to escape from his black beanie in all directions, and park-job aside seemed slightly less stoned in person than he sounded. “Wanna sit up front? It’s warmer up here, I’ve had the heat blastin’ all the way here . . . uh, just let me clear some shit out first.”

‘Some shit’ seemed to be a lot of empty bottles and cans and snack wrappers, but William waited patiently because it’s not like this place had any actual taxis he could call instead. When he did climb in and buckle his seatbelt, at least it was warm, as promised, even if it did smell like pot and stale beer.

The driver popped back in, stripped the glove off one hand, and rubbed at his nose above a vivid red goatee before grabbing the wheel, “Okey, here we go. I’m Pickles, what’s yer name?”

“William Murderfasche,” William replied. What kind of a name was Pickles? But . . . it did explain the name of the ‘cab’ company.

“Murderface, that’s a fuckin’ cool name. Mind if I just call ya that?”

“. . . Sure.”

“Cool. So dood, Murderface, where to?”

William gave him the address. The car pulled away from the airport with a jerk and he stared out the window at passing snow banks and white-shrouded trees, starting to sink into all his misgivings about the decision to come out here. There was a certain smell that developed anywhere his grandparents inhabited for long enough that he hadn’t realized until moving out on his own kept him in a near-constant state of upset stomach.

“Hope ya don’t mind there ain’t no radio,” Pickles told him companionably, not appearing to mind when William didn’t react. “Tape deck’s broken too. . . . I’m tryin’ ta save up the money to fix it by givin’ people rides and shit. And doin’ some other stuff too, but don’t tell the cops, heh. All the local stations are pretty much shit anywey, all they’re playin’ right now is fuckin’ Christmas songs.”

“Hm,” William agreed.

“What kinda music you listen to?”

“Hm. Uh, what? Oh, schorry. Moschtly metal, I guessch.” He shrugged, shaking himself out of the funk he’d been about to sink into. Usually he would prefer to just be left to his own thoughts, but right now the chit chat was actually a welcome distraction. “It’sch good background muschic for conschentrating on not thinking.”

“Hey dood, me too!” In his enthusiasm, Pickles gunned the engine and sent the car into a brief skid on the wintery road, but corrected it with an ease that spoke to lots of practice. “There’s naht much of a metal scene here, fuckin’ sucks. What else am I supposed to get fucked up to, huh? People jest don’t get that. Is it any better where you live?”

William, braced for impact as he now was and would probably remain for the rest of the ride, shrugged again. “I don’t know. I moschtly keep to myschelf, but there are plenty of schtoresch that have deschent schtuff, if you’re willing to schort through all the other crap.”

“Well, cool. Hey if you wanna hang out at all while yer here, I got a pretty good collection on vinyl. Y’know, if you don’t have family shit to do. I’m avoiding mine due to sort of a . . . landlord tenant dispute. They won’t let me put a lock on the house-door to my basement-room, so I’ve got it barricaded and stopped payin’ rent, and now Mahm won’t let me eat anything she cooks. But it’s cool, I’ve gaht an exterior door so I can still get in’n out.”

It took a moment to digest all that, but William noted the invitation with the tentative optimism of a guy who’d moved a lot as a kid but never quite gotten the hang of making friends as a survival method.

But he was only planning to be in town for a few days, get the condo cleaned out ASAP, and go home, never to return. Not a lot of point in making friends.

“Thanksch, but I probably won’t have time.” He wasn’t looking directly at Pickles, but he saw the driver’s smile drop a few watts out of the corner of his eye. Feeling bad for the guy, he quickly added, “Schoundsch like you’ve got a pretty good schet-up, though.”

“Eh . . . it’s alright.”

The conversation petered out after that, and William had no idea how to get it going again. He’d always been shit at this sort of thing. Looking back, it was probably a miracle that he’d stuck through high school long enough to graduate, having alienated, avoided, or accidentally insulted enough of his peers that virtually no one on campus had ever willingly spoken to him. The only social group he’d ever successfully infiltrated was the lunchtime stoners that hung out in the park across the street, and that was because they’d mostly just sat around passing joints, trying to blow smoke rings, and napping before having to face sixth period.

Eventually Pickles put his turn signal on and announced, "Here we go, Christmas Mountain Avenue. Sheesh, that's a little on the nose, huh?"

Privately William agreed, but awkwardly swallowed the chuckle before it could make itself heard. As they pulled up in front of the building, he peered out the window at the gray, shitty condo building and felt his lip curl. Fuck, there was a fridge in there full of rotting food and cans of condensed milk that he was going to have to deal with somewhere in there, he just knew it.

“Is this where yer staying?” Pickles asked dubiously.

“No,” William said with a shudder. “Thisch isch juscht the . . . family schit I’m here to deal with. My grandparentsch died and I have to clean out their plache by the end of the month.”

“Ooh.” Scratching thoughtfully at his goatee, he leaned forward to get a better look at the building. “. . . You know, the nearest motel is a ten minute walk and it’s gettin’ dark soon. Yer gonna want a ride, prahbably.”

William blinked. “Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.”

Pickles made a show of looking thoughtful. “So . . . want any help? I gaht reeeeal reasonable rates.”

“Well. . . .”

“And I’ve gaht weed, too,” he added.

“Done,” William said immediately.

Well. At least the ordeal would probably be over with sooner this way, and also a lot less horrible with something to blunt the edges (and cover the Smell).

#metalocalypse #12 days of dethmas #metalocalypse fanfic #metalocalypse au #pickleface #william murderface #pickles the drummer

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an-unknown-writers-world · 4 years

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The Game

Warnings: None? It is cheesy but that’s not a warning, just an opinion.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Characters: Loki Odinson, Bucky makes a cameo and a brief mention of Natasha.

Word Count: 866

A/N: Implied smutty end, I couldn’t write it. I tried; it was garbage this time. I hope you still enjoy it.

*********************************************************************************

You sat on the counter as Bucky moved around the kitchen. The two of you had been close since you moved into the tower over a year ago, you shared a dark past and were both products of the Red Room. Often when you couldn’t sleep, you’d wander into the kitchen where you would inevitably find Bucky. In the last few weeks your evening chats had been interrupted by the newest member to the compound, Loki. Thor had brought him to the compound in hopes that he could make amends and help when needed.

“Have you seen him today?” Bucky asked handing you a teacup.

“Who, Loki?”

Bucky smirked, “Yes, don’t think I haven’t noticed you stay up with him long after I leave at night.”

You shrugged, “It’s nothing Buck, really.”

“Nat called it,” He stumbled for a moment, “sexual tension or something like that.”

“Geeze. Really? Loki and I are the topics of your pillow talk.”

“Not always, she cares about you and doesn’t want to see you get hurt.”

“And you?” You poked at him.

“Me, well I don’t care.” He laughed. “I think you are far more capable of hurting him; but if he did anything, I’d snap him like the twig he is.”

This made you laugh, Bucky’s awful attempt at being a protective big brother. “I think the likelihood of you being able to physically harm someone that can literally disappear into thin air is very slim.”

“Let’s make sure we don’t have to find out.”

Footsteps echoed in the hallway alerting that someone was coming. You looked at the clock and knew immediately who it would be. Butterflies started to flutter in your stomach.

“Good evening,” Loki smiled as he entered the kitchen.

“This is my queue to leave,” Bucky said looking between the two of you. He stepped towards you kissing your temple, “Goodnight.”

“See you in the morning,” You replied abandoning your teacup on the counter.

Bucky stopped as he walked towards Loki, you couldn’t hear what was exchanged but it didn’t seem to be basic pleasantries. Bucky walked away with a smirk on his face and Loki walked towards you with pursed lips.

“Hi,” You smiled at him.

“Hello,” He smiled back. “I see your boyfriend retired early tonight.”

You laughed, “You do realize he is married to Natasha, right?”

Loki seemed confused by your statement but still came to stand in front of you.

“Don’t you get tired of this game?” You asked softly.

He put his hands on either side of you on the counter, “What game, love?”

Hesitantly you look at him and began to speak in a hushed tone, “Loki if you want something, why don’t you just take it?”

He came even closer, his mouth right next to your ear, “the problem is,” He whispered, “if I kissed you, I don’t think I’d be able to stop.”

Your breath hitched and a shiver ran down your spine. For a moment you were paralyzed at the thought. Haze clouded your mind as you reached your hands out resting them against his abdomen. He froze with your touch; you didn’t want to imagine how long it had been since he had been touched lovingly.

Looking up at him with hooded eyes you whispered his name.

His stormy blue eyes looked down at you full of desperation and lust. It was indisputable that he needed you as much as you wanted him. He bent down closing this distance as his lips met yours. Passion exploded in a manner that would have put fireworks to shame. His hands entangled in your hair while yours found their way under his shirt.

The kiss only broke when the need for air became too great; his forehead rested against your own, breathing in each other’s air. When you finally felt like you’d caught your breath, he kissed you again, chastely.

He pulled back to look at you, your lips were swollen from the kiss, hair disheveled, and rosy cheeks from the heat. “Beautiful,” He murmured.

You smiled at him before wrapping your hands behind his neck and pulling him down to kiss you again.

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear he couldn’t pull his eyes from you, but a yawn escaped you.

“Do I bore you?” He laughed softly.

You shook your head, “The opposite, it might be my oxygen-deprived brain but I’m suddenly very tired.”

“Then you should sleep,” He urged.

You smirked, “That’s not what I mean,”

He looked puzzled for a moment; he searched your expression as you fiddle with the hair at the base of his neck. “Oh,” He almost shouted, “oh,” he laughed, “come on.” He pulled your legs around his waist and lifted you from the counter.

A laugh escaped your lips as he hauled you from the kitchen.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. please turn off the kitchen lights,’ You called out.

He made it halfway up the hall before you nuzzled into his neck, pressing gentle kisses ever so often. You were happy to finally have the game over. Little did you know, the God of Mischief was only getting started with his game; he would have you up all night pleading.

******************

Thank you for reading! If you liked it and would like to read more you can find it here.

#loki x reader #loki odinson x reader #Loki Laufeyson x reader #loki imagine #loki oneshot #marvel cinematic universe #Loki Fanfic #An Unknown Writers World writes #An Unknown Writers World

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avengerofyourheart · 4 years

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Feel You Part 1 (Enhanced!reader x Jefferson OUAT)

Characters: reader, Jefferson, Grace, others mentioned.

Summary: You had seen him around the village and knew some of his story, but after coming upon an interaction with the man and his daughter in the market, you felt compelled to help him. However, he may not want anything to do with you. Will your hidden ability help or hurt your chances of making him see a different path?” (OUAT canon divergent)

Warnings: tiny bit of angst, but mostly none!

Word Count: 6.4k

Song Inspiration: “Meet Me in the Woods” by Lord Huron

A/N: It’s here!! My first Jefferson story!! :D I’m so excited to share it with you. Thank you to all who have shown enthusiasm for this story and I hope you enjoy it as much as I have writing it! Special thanks to @beccaanne814 for reading this over for me! Also, this story is canon divergent, meaning I’ve changed some of the events from the tv show. Please let me know your thoughts, I love to hear from you all! Thank you!! <3

Part One Part Two (End)>>>

Feel You Masterlist

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“This was a brilliant idea,” you muttering sarcastically, untangling your skirt from yet another caught branch. “I’ll just follow him home and tell him… and I’ll just say…”

Actually, you had no idea what you’d say.

Huffing out a frustrated sigh, you rested a moment behind a tree, peeking out slightly to keep your target in sight. Luckily they were distracted by their own little game, his baritone chuckle and her tinkling giggle ringing through the forest. You considered abandoning your foolish task, but the ache in your chest urged you forward against your will. Taking another deep breath, you checked to see if the coast was clear before trekking onward through the brush and bramble.

___________

Once a week your mother sent you to market for necessary items like eggs or a fresh loaf of bread and each week you dreaded it. The bustling crowds were overwhelming and the experience left you emotionally drained for hours afterward. You begged your mother for her to go instead, but that was never received well. All that came of it was a lecture about responsibility and contributing to the family. Considering that you were already a disappointment as an unmarried young adult woman, in her eyes you were lucky to have a place to live at all.

Entering the market you steeled yourself and aimed to gather all your purchases as quickly as possible. Bread acquired, you now stood impatiently in a queue for eggs when you overheard a conversation a few stalls over.

“Would you take it for eight coppers? It’s all I have,” the man offered to the old woman. A young girl beside him held a soft, stuffed white rabbit in her hands with hope in her eyes.

“Oh, you are a good father. Your last coppers for your little girl’s happiness, ah?” the woman replied, leaning forward with her crooked nose and blackened teeth.

“Thank you,” he said, offering her the coins.

“Oh I did not say I accept,” she rebutted, rudely taking the rabbit from the young girl’s hands. “Alas, I cannot take less than one silver. The economy. You understand.”

The crowd behind them began to murmur, urging the man to make a purchase or step aside. A tightness of concern grew within you.

Embarrassment. Shame.

“It’s okay, papa. Come on. People are waiting,” the young girl told her father, showing understanding beyond her years.

“I will not take ‘no’ for an answer,” the man tried one last time, pleading in his voice.

“Papa, please. I don’t need it,” the daughter assured her father and he relented, tugging on her hand.

“Come on, sweetie.”

So lost in their story, you were unaware of your place until a sharp poke in your back urged you forward. It was your turn to buy eggs. Staring at the basket in your hands, you hesitated. Mother would be furious. And yet, against all logic, you left the queue and followed the man and his daughter into the forest.

Having hidden your basket carefully in a hollow log, you pulled your shawl tighter and kept the duo barely in sight, trying not to draw attention. There was no plan in mind, only an urgent need to interfere drawing you forward. You didn’t even know what was going to happen yet, only that something must be stopped. Their conversation and laughter grew louder and suddenly you realized they had stopped. Now closer than you had planned, you stepped behind a tree and held your breath.

“Papa, I found you!” the girl exclaimed gleefully.

“You certainly did. You must be part bloodhound, my dear Grace,” her father praised warmly.

Grace. Finally a name for the young girl. His was still unknown and your precarious position behind a tree most likely would not offer you good standing to find it out.

“Now it’s my turn to hide and you seek,” the young girl declared playfully.

He exhaled loudly and with a peek you spotted him kneeling to meet her at eye level. “I’m afraid playtime’s over. Though you can still use that nose of yours to hunt mushrooms, enough to sell at market tomorrow. Do you think you can do that?”

A warmth of affection and tenderness flowed through you, tugging at your heartstrings. He truly was a good father. You knew it. The pair set out again and you followed only to stop short as an unexpected, painful iciness forced itself into you. You knew this feeling. Swirling amongst the crowd was that frigid darkness in the market, but you spent more time pushing it all away than trying to discover the source.

The sound of horses startled you as the girl spoke.

“Whose carriage is that?”

Without needing a response, you knew. The man’s answer only confirmed your suspicions.

“The Queen’s.”

A dark feeling of dread filled you, causing your knees to buckle. The roaring in your ears muted the rest of their conversation as you struggled to breathe. Closing your eyes you focused on finding your own center, inhaling deeply and exhaling at measured intervals. Finally calmed enough to move, you stood and leaned against the tree, exhausted. So lost in yourself, you didn’t notice movement until it was almost upon you.

“Hello.”

Startled, you flinched, expecting an angry tirade or worse. Instead, stood the little girl. Dressed in her hooded cloak with hair falling in waves to her waist, she looked at you with eyes wide.

Uncertainty. Innocent curiosity.

“Um...hello,” you replied with a smile.

“Who are you?” she asked, still feeling a bit guarded.

“I’m…Y/N,” you replied, eyes still darting about for her father who might be wary of a stranger. “Are you alone? Are you alright?”

She grinned, bobbing her head. “Yes. Papa sent me out to play hide and seek, but it’s not so fun alone. Will you play with me?”

Still uncertain, you stepped out from behind your tree slowly and gazed toward the small cottage. “Where is your father?”

“Inside. With the Queen,” she said with a downward tug of her lips.

Fear. Worry.

“Oh. Well, I’m sure it will all be fine,” you tried to assure her with a smile. “I suppose we could play until your father is finished?”

Beaming brightly, she nodded. “I’m Grace, by the way.”

“Hello, Grace,” you replied.

“It’s my turn to hide and you can find me!” she shouted, already scampering into the woods for a hiding place.

Feeling the childhood wonder she radiated, you closed your eyes and began to count aloud.

_____________

“Ah ha!” you said, leaping out to find Grace under a fallen log and she squealed at being discovered.

“I thought that was a good spot!” she replied, almost disappointed.

“It was! Took me almost twice as long as last time,” you praised her.

“I’ll stump you next time. Your turn to—“

“GRACE.”

A loud, masculine voice rang out, causing you both to jump. The young girl’s father was stalking toward you with a purpose, the anger and fear pressing into your skin.

“Papa. I made a new friend and we were just playing, is the Queen—“

“Go inside,” he commanded gently to her with his gaze still on you.

“But, papa, I…”

“Now, Grace,” he growled, leaving no room for discussion.

The girl uttered a quick goodbye to you and then followed her father’s orders. Once she was out of earshot, the man turned toward you with a fearful fury in his eyes.

“Who are you? What were you doing with my daughter?” he barked, suspicious.

“I, um…just as she said. We were playing hide and seek, I’m sorry if—“

“What are you doing here? I’m aware of all who live nearby, I’ve made certain. What do you want with us?” he stalked closer.

“Wha—nothing, I…”

“Wait…you were in the market today, weren’t you? I saw you. Did you follow us?” he asked, the rage in his accusation making you cower.

You didn’t even have a response to that. He was correct, after all. Regardless, he took your silence as confirmation.

“I don’t know what you want, but you will stay away from my daughter. I don’t trust strangers. Leave this place and never return,” he demanded, then turning to go.

Before you could stop yourself, the words burst from you. “Don’t do it!” you cried out, then clapping a hand over your mouth.

Stunned, he paused a moment and turned back. “Do what?”

Breathing in deeply, you attempted to steel your resolve. “Whatever the Queen asked of you. Don’t do it,” you uttered, trembling.

He took a step toward you, eyes narrowed. “How do you know anything about the Queen? Or me? How do you know that she asked something of me? Are you a sorceress? A reader of minds?” he demanded, accusation piercing you sharply.

“No! I…no. Nothing like that. However…” you paused, nervous to truthfully reply. Even knowing what you could do most of your life, there still was no good way to explain it. Which was why you chose to keep it to yourself these days and dealt with the pains of it all on your own. “I do have an… ability of sorts,” you finally admitted, avoiding his gaze.

“Ability? What kind of ability? If you did something to my Grace, I swear, I’ll—“

“I would never!” you shouted, finding your voice. “I’ve never hurt anyone, I swear.”

“Then what?” he asked impatiently, but curiosity still kept him in place.

“I am what you might call…an Empath. I can feel other’s emotions. It’s not something I’ve ever wanted and I try to block it all out, but sometimes it’s too strong or in crowds I become overwhelmed. I know it can be seen as invasive, but if I could stop it, I would. It’s not a gift, it’s a curse. And I’m sorry to invade your space or if I crossed a line playing with Grace. That was not my intention,” you finished, staring down at your shoes with arms crossed to avoid his gaze. “She’s a sweet girl and I enjoyed my time with her.”

There was no sound of footsteps, so to your surprise, he hadn’t run in fear of disgust yet. Chancing a glance, you saw him studying you carefully. You felt uncomfortable under his scrutiny, but you let the silence stretch until he chose to speak.

“An Empath? So you can read people?”

You shrugged and shook your head slightly. “It’s not quite so simple, but I suppose you could say that.”

Widening his stance, he placed both hands on his hips. The anger had mostly subsided, allowing you to breathe again. “What am I feeling right now?” he inquired, curiosity seeping in.

Finally raising your head, you met his eye. The bright blue of them drew you in and even in his suspicion, there was a warmth there. “Are you sure?” you asked, awaiting confirmation and when he nodded you shuddered out a sigh. “Okay. Do you mind if I step forward? Proximity helps a little.”

Wary some, he hesitated, and then nodded again. You took a step forward and he did the same, leaving a few feet of distance between you. He stood statue still, waiting for you to do something extraordinary but all that was needed was a few moments of focus. You took the opportunity to breathe and take in the sight of the man before you.

Other than the stunning blue eyes, he also had a striking jawline and plush lips that were almost distracting. Soft waves the same light brown as Grace’s fell to his shoulders in an unruly but attractive manner. He was clad in a ruffled shirt and a waistcoat, each of different patterns that still seemed to complement each other. His long legs were strapped in dark blue leather and ended in well worn boots. You hadn’t spent this much time focusing on one person’s emotions purposefully in a long time so the active seeking left you a little breathless.

Letting out a short nod that you were done, you began to speak. “Protectiveness. Fear. A touch of anger, but it has lessened. Thank you for that, anger takes a lot out of me. Curiosity. Guilt. Longing. Love. Heartbreak. Shame—“

“Okay, I get the point,” he interrupted you with shades of embarrassment returning. “That does feel invasive, but I did ask after all.”

“I’m sorry,” you still felt compelled to say.

He rocked back onto his heels, clasping hands behind his back. There was more of an openness from him now. “That does sound exhausting. Dealing with all that. Have you had it your whole life?”

Surprised at the question, you paused but then chose to open up unexpectedly. “I think so. My mother picked up on it in my childhood, noticing that I would cry whenever one of my siblings were hurt or how I would cower even before my father began to yell about something that was broken. She told me to fight it, but never sought anyone’s help. No one wants a ‘special’ child. So I learned to deal with it on my own,” you bit your lip, feeling vulnerable.

Pity. Sadness. Anger, but not directed at you this time.

His voice had softened when he spoke next, compelling you to lean forward. “What caused you to follow us from the market?”

The question you feared to answer, but he deserved the truth. “Because of what I felt from you as you left the old woman’s stall where Grace asked for the rabbit,” you whispered as he awaited your reply. “Desperation. Men do things they ordinarily wouldn’t when they’re desperate.”

A flash of shame hit you from the man, but he just nodded. “But still. What were you hoping to do?”

Cheeks warming, you shrugged at first. “I don’t know. I just didn’t want you to do something you might regret.”

Another short silence as he glanced back toward his home. “Do you know what I used to do for the Queen? What she’s asked of me today?”

Quickly shaking your head, you replied. “No. And I won’t ask. I just have to tell you before it’s too late, you don’t have to. I know you’ve decided to go and it’s wrong for me to say, but I hope that you’ll stay. Grace adores you and she loves you so much. She only needs you, not stuffed rabbits or trinkets. Whatever it is that the Queen has offered, you don’t need it. Whatever she has asked, she will betray you. I have felt the cold blackness of her heart and no good can come from making a deal with her. I’m sorry if I’m overstepping, but I needed to share that with you. Now I can go and you never need to see me again,” you exhaled, relieved and also saddened that this was goodbye.

Shock struck you then followed by a question. “How did you know that I would say yes?”

You cleared your throat, feeling overwhelmed and suddenly tired. “Because you miss her already. Grace.”

You expected an agreement that you should leave from him, but what you didn’t expect was a wave of gratitude. Looking up in surprise, you saw tears shining in his bright blue eyes, leaving you speechless. He sniffled, brushing a thumb under his eye before he cleared his throat.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you answered quietly.

“Y/N. I’m Jefferson and you’ve already met Grace,” he said, allowing a small smile to pull at his lips.

“Jefferson,” you breathed out, relieved to have a name to fit and that he wasn’t upset about your unbidden warning. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you as well,” he let out a grin, then stretching it to a grimace. “After the part where I yelled at you.”

A chuckle escaped you unexpectedly and you were blessed with a toothy grin from him. He had a crooked smile, which somehow you found even more endearing.

“That’s okay. I don’t blame you at all,” you admitted, feeling lighter than you had in days. There was a fluttering in your heart and you couldn’t even say for sure that it was solely your own.

“So, um…” Jefferson began, but was interrupted by a loud shout from his child.

“Papa, can Y/N stay for a tea party?” you heard her yell from the cottage doorway. “Please? We never have visitors.”

You heard the pouting in her request and Jefferson turned your way, knowing that he would deny her nothing if he had the power to grant it.

“The lady of the house has requested your presence,” he teased, then turning serious. “And honestly, I’d love for you to accept, if you can.”

Chewing on your lip, you knew that all you were expecting upon returning home was a sharp reprimand from your mother for forgetting the eggs. Might as well make the lecture worth it.

“I would be honored,” you exhaled, then following Jefferson toward the humble cottage and through the front door.

__________________

Grace and Jefferson waved as you left for home that afternoon, having spent an enjoyable few hours in their cozy cottage drinking real and imaginary tea with stuffed animals as guests. You found a sense of calm in their home that in the the past you had only found in solitude. Dreading what you knew you’d find at home, you wandered slowly back to the hollow tree where your basket was hidden and made a wide circle around town through the forest to avoid as many people as possible.

You ached to have a home of your own some day that was so full of love and warmth. Thinking back, you couldn’t help but smile at how easily Jefferson offered his own easy grins the longer you stayed. The cottage was strewn about with teacups and bits of fabric with pincushions nearby. A fire crackled merrily nearby. You caught a flicker of embarrassment from him as you stepped inside the door, fearing that his humble home might not be much to look at. Offering a grin, you gazed about the room and complimented him on the home only to be rewarded another crooked smile and heart thump.

Arriving home was a stark smack of reality, the chaos and annoyance creeping in the closer you got. As you feared, there was yelling and words of disappointment and while the sharp barbs struck as they usually did, you didn’t feel them quite as deeply. Instead you tried to hold onto the feeling of a warm, comfortable cottage in the woods and the way you felt with the two who resided there.

The next week, you made your same dreaded walk to the market with an empty basket in hand. Several days spent at home with your mother and her sour temper had dulled the shiny warmth you had felt on that day in the woods. Determined to stay on task and hopefully lighten the mood at home, you bought the bread and eggs before you tried to bargain with the butcher, having brought some herbs your mother grew in trade. You did your best not to cower under his inevitable cloud of annoyance and were finally successful after a grueling few minutes. With one last item checked off your list, you turned in the direction of home when you felt a familiar spark of affection and happiness approaching.

Turning toward the prompting, you spotted Grace whose face lit up before she headed your way, then throwing her arms around your waist.

“Y/N! I knew she was going to be here, Papa, I told you,” Grace exclaimed joyfully.

Her father stepped forward then, catching your eye. “And you were right, my little one.”

Jefferson offered a smile as a caress of vulnerability touched your skin. Thankfully, it was followed by relief and joy. “Hello, Jefferson. It’s nice to see you again,” you greeted, hoping to find that calm you had been craving since your last meeting. “And you too, Grace! Who do we have here?”

You had gestured toward the stuffed rabbit that the young girl had in her clutches. “Isn’t he wonderful? Papa made him for me and I love him,” Grace proudly presented the rabbit for your inspection.

The stuffed animal was sewn using different fabrics and mismatched button eyes but Grace held it in such high esteem that one might think it was made of the finest silk and lace. Jefferson’s familiar shame touched you lightly like a bruise, but he swept it away then, lost in the joy his daughter found in his creation despite its misgivings.

“Anything for my little girl,” he replied proudly.

Holding Jefferson’s gaze a short moment, you then turned to Grace in reply. “Well, your father is very talented. A girl should only hope for a companion like him. Does he have a name?”

“Mr. Rabbit.”

“Very fitting. He’ll make a wonderful addition to your tea party,” you said with a grin.

“Can you join us again today, Y/N? Please?” Grace pleaded, then looking to her father for further urging.

He smiled bashfully and then echoed his daughter’s sentiments. “Of course, you’re welcome anytime.”

Heart bursting at the invitation, you wanted to accept but responsibility set in. “I’d love to, but…I should get all of this back to my mother before it spoils,” you replied with regret.

The disappointment radiating from both Jefferson and Grace almost overtook your own as their smiles fell.

“But…perhaps tomorrow?” you offered, hoping that with future planning you could then visit.

“Of course!” Jefferson replied, that crooked smile setting your heart aflutter.

“Yay!” Grace jumped in place, hugging you once again as happiness filled you times three.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” you grinned, returning the girl’s hug before stepping away and also trying to hold the man’s gaze as long as possible as he waved goodbye.

______________

Nerves kept you from sleeping most of the night, which was odd since you had visited the snug cottage the week before. Perhaps it was the intention of your visit rather than the previous rollercoaster of emotions when you followed them home previously. You made up some excuse to your mother for your absence that afternoon and once dressed in your least shabby skirt and blouse, you draped a shawl around your shoulders and headed into the forest.

As the cottage came into view, your heart quickened, as did your steps. Arriving at the door, you raised a hand and hesitated only a moment before making a fist and knocking. The door swung open seconds later, revealing the handsome Jefferson with a bright smile on display.

“Y/N. I’m so glad you’ve come,” he beamed, then offering a hand for you to step inside.

“Thank you for the invitation,” you said, accepting his hand but as your fingertips grazed his palm you felt a burst of heat flow through you, as if standing in front of a fire after being cold much too long. He must have felt it as well, his eyes wide when then met yours.

“Wow, that was…” he began, but in that moment his daughter rushed to your side.

“Y/N, you came! Come, sit,” Grace all but demanded, taking your other hand as you slipped from Jefferson’s grasp.

As per Grace’s instructions, you took a seat at the small table while she place a teacup and saucer before you. Following Jefferson’s gaze as he walked around the cottage toward the fire he seemed to be recovering from the touch just as you were.

“…and here is some tea for you, too, Mr. Rabbit. Would you like some cream and sugar, Y/N?” Grace asked as you cleared your head and turned her way.

“Hm? Oh, yes. I’d love some, thank you,” you replied, still feeling that warmth in your fingers.

The afternoon was pleasant, spent playing tea party with Grace and also following Jefferson with your eyes as he prepared something over the fire. He bent down at times, allowing you to appreciate the pleasing fit of his leather trousers. He didn’t participate in the tea party but added comments on occasion or asked you questions, the conversation making you both smile.

Some while later, Jefferson declared that it was time for a proper supper as he dished some sort of soup out of the pot and into three bowls. You tried to refuse, fearing overstepping your welcome but he insisted. He asked Grace to clear the table of the tea set and set the bowls down before you. The soup was a simple broth with mushrooms and herbs apparently they had picked themselves. You ate it gratefully and it was delicious, warming you from the inside along with the pleasant company. Honestly, you had never experienced a joy like this in someone’s home. You almost feared the feeling, knowing that it was temporary.

Once supper was nearly finished, there was a knock on the door. Jefferson stood quickly, a feeling of secondhand dread brushing over you. He peeked outside and then opened the door wider.

“Grace, your neighbor friend would like for you to come out and play,” he said with a smile, revealing a young boy about Grace’s age.

“Can I, Papa?” she begged with doe eyes.

Her father huffed out a sigh, seemingly deciding. “Alright, you can go.”

A squeal was heard as Grace rushed from the table for her cloak. Her father helped her fasten it and pulled the hood up to cover her head.

Jefferson stopped her before stepping outside. “Stay within sight of home and you must return before dark, you understand?” he warned her, cupping her chin in his hand.

“Yes, papa,” she agreed, then turning to you. “Thank you for coming and playing with me, Y/N. Will you come again?” Grace asked, rushing over for yet another hug. It was becoming expected now and surprisingly you didn’t mind in the slightest.

“I’d love to. Thank you for the tea party,” you said with a smile, then watching as the girl ran off with her friend.

Jefferson stayed at the door a moment longer, waving at someone in the distance who you assumed to be the neighbors. Afterward, he closed the door and turned to you with an uncertain smile and a flutter of nervousness.

Filling the silence, you began to stand from the table. “Perhaps I should go…”

“Oh, no! Please don’t, I…” he began, then recognizing the urgency and near panic he felt. “I mean…if you can stay, I’d love you to. Grace is wonderful and more grown up every day but sometimes I do miss adult conversation,” he said bashfully. “Unless I’ve already taken too much of your time…”

“No, not at all,” you assured him, returning to your seat. “‘Good adult conversation is a rarity for me as well,” you admitted with a grin.

He smiled brightly and then began to clear the dishes off the table. You offered to help but he waved the idea away, as you were a guest.

Casting a gaze around the cottage, you took in the details more with curiosity building. There were nicknacks on every surface, dried flowers in a basket, and what looked like dyed yarn hanging from the eaves. Attempting at so-called adult conversation, you decided to indulge your curiosity.

“What is it that you do? You’re a craftsman of some sort?” you asked, turning your body on the bench to face him.

Jefferson let out a weary sigh as he leaned against the workbench. “I used to be. I still dabble at times, but…it hasn’t always ended well,” he said vaguely and you felt a spike of sorrow find you.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pried, I—“

“No, no, it’s fine, I promise, I just…” Jefferson stepped forward as he trailed off, then changing direction and moving items in a corner as if in search of something.

Trying again, you changed the subject. “Grace is a wonderful girl. She looks so much like you,” you said but couldn’t stop yourself from adding one last thought. “Her eyes, though…much darker than yours.”

Jefferson finally crossed the room with a large, oddly shaped case in hand. “She has her mother’s eyes,” he spoke sadly as the grief soaked into your skin.

“Oh,” you could only say, knowing without specifics that she was a difficult subject.

He fiddled with the buckle on the case, avoiding your gaze. “We lost her mother and my wife in a terrible accident years ago…” he trailed off, the sadness filling you both.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, instinctively placing your hand on his against the table and the same heat sparked between you. “Oh! Forgive me, I didn’t mean…”

But when you tried to remove your hand, he captured it in his, holding you in place. “Don’t apologize. I don’t know what this…this touch is, but I’m finding it enjoyable,” he admitted, caressing your fingertips with his as a smile touched his lips.

“Really?” you asked, surprised.

He nodded, then intertwining your joined fingers. “It’s been much too long since…”

Words failed him but you caught his meaning as you felt a different sort of heat filled you, finding the same flickers of desire within your own self. Regretfully removing his hand, Jefferson then changed the subject by opening the oddly shaped case and pulling out a well used, old top hat and placing it upside down on the table.

“This…is what I used to do,” he said, feeling wary and hesitant.

“You were…a hat maker?” you guessed, uncertain.

Jefferson let out a smile that scrunched his nose adorably. “Well…yes and no. I have made many hats in the past but this one…it’s special. You bravely told me of your ability so I thought I would share mine. This hat contains magic and when used by me, I am able to open portals to other worlds where I can travel to.”

Mouth open in awe, you blinked a few times. “Wait…other worlds?”

“Yes,” he said excitedly. “There are more worlds than just our own. More than I could count. Some with magic, some without and the veil between them is surprisingly thin. I discovered the ability by accident one day and began to use it more often. Until…I grew too prideful and when Grace was young something went wrong as I traveled through portals with her mother and…”

You felt the guilt and sorrow fill you as a tear fell from his eye. With intention this time, you place a hand on his and shared in his pain, hoping to lessen it some. Jefferson was quiet a few moments before he sniffled, then regaining his composure. Enjoying the touch of your hand, he reveled in the faint flicker of flames that followed as he trialed his fingertips across your palm and up to your wrist. You found yourself enchanted, nearly holding your breath in fear of the moment when the touch might end.

“Have you ever controlled the emotions of others?” he asked out of the blue.

Shocked, your mouth gaped open before you tried to respond. “I…no, I couldn’t…I mean, I’ve never tried but I wouldn’t want to. I don’t think it works that way nor would I attempt to invade someone’s person like that. Why do you ask?”

Jefferson quirked a smile, then looking up from your joined hands. “I don’t know. I just feel more calm around you than I have in some time. Happier. Is that strange to admit?”

Smiling, you shook your head. “No. I feel happier, too. Your home contains more joy and warmth and happiness than I think I’ve found anywhere else.”

His crooked smile that was becoming your favorite sight made an appearance as he held your gaze, an intimacy growing between you. As other feelings began to brew and grow with your shared contact, you felt a warmth in your cheeks before you could look away and reluctantly reclaim your hand. It felt cold and empty now without his touch.

“I really should go,” you spoke softly as if you hated to utter the words. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I understand,” he conceded, placing the top hat back in its case and standing from the table to put it away. “Could I walk you to the edge of the forest?” he offered, returning to your side as you stood.

“It’s so kind of you to offer, but I’m sure you’d like to be close by for Grace. And you must have other things to do.”

“Nothing too pressing, but perhaps you have a point with Grace away with her friend,” he admitted, sorrow pressing under your ribs as well. “Can you visit again soon? Tomorrow?”

The urgency and hope in his voice made you smile, almost causing you to nod in agreement before you had a chance to consider. “Okay.”

_________________

From that time on, you spent as much time with the widowed father and his young daughter as time and responsibilities would allow. A few afternoons a week and the occasional chance meeting at the market evolved into later visits and conversations between you and Jefferson stretching into the night long after Grace was a sleep.

Pressed into his side one night on a makeshift cushion on the floor beside the fireplace, you found yourself happier and more content than you had ever experienced. However, the tangled, shared feelings inside you sometimes were difficult to unweave, leaving you wary.

Did his question from weeks ago have merit? Were you forcing your feeling onto him? Was what you were feeling from Jefferson genuine? As the shadows from the flickering flames dance across his handsome face, unexpected worry filled you. Could it all be a ruse? The thought squeezed your heart like a vice, making it difficult to breathe. Jefferson seemed to be aware of a shift in you as he turned your way, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

“You’re quiet this evening, my dear. Something wrong?” he inquired, a pulse of concern reaching you.

You shook your head at first, but then let out a sigh. “I just wonder…what if it’s true what you asked? What if I’m able to force my feeling upon others and I’m just as bad as Regina, playing with the lives of others? What if I’m projecting my feeling onto you and none of this is real? I could never live with myself if—“

But you never had a chance to finish, since your lips were now captured by Jefferson’s, an uncontrollable heat of desire consuming you both. If a simple touch of the hand were tiny flames, then this kiss was an inferno. Jefferson’s hands framed your face affectionately as your fingers tangled in his light brown strands. Tongue pressing against your lips, you opened wide and breathed him in as if you’d been drowning all your life and now received your first taste of oxygen.

Chest pressed up against your own, Jefferson finally pulled away an inch for air. Eyes darkened in desire, he held your gaze and stretched that crooked smile across his face in unending joy that filled you to the brim. His forehead touched yours as you smiled so hard it almost hurt.

“I love you, Y/N,” he breathed out with utter certainty, causing your heart to flop in your chest. “I do. I love you more than I can say. You’re the most kind, sweet, selfless, beautiful woman I’ve ever met. And I’m sorry that I made you doubt yourself. I know you would never hurt anyone. It only hurts when we have to say goodbye,” he said, voice cracking at that last sorrowful admission.

“You…love me?” you spoke in disbelief, hardly able to comprehend such a feeling as having your love reciprocated. “I love you, too, Jefferson.”

At those words he captured your lips once more, lost in the feeling of his caresses against your mouth.

Finally breaking apart he blurted, “Will you be my wife, Y/N? I don’t have much to give but it’s yours if you’ll have me. Grace adores you and I never thought I would ever feel this way again. I love you so much, I can’t bear to say goodbye anymore. Will you—“

“Yes,” you answered tearfully, having the words finally make sense in your mind. “Yes, I want to marry you.”

Happy tears roll down his cheeks as you shared a smile and a few more kisses. You spoke late into the night about future plans until you fell asleep in his arms on a nest of mismatched pillows.

Grace discovered you in the morning, surprised. “Y/N! You’re still here!” she said with childlike glee. Her hair was in braids, fastened the night before by your hands.

“Oh, um…” her father started to explain your presence with sleep still clouding his mind.

“Yes, I’m still here,” you finally said with a smile. “Not quite planned, but a happy accident.”

Jefferson echoed your sentiment, pulling you into his arms. It was then that he broke the news of your engagement to his daughter and she was over the moon. A celebratory breakfast was made and Jefferson tried to make you stay as long as possible, but having not come home the night before, you knew your mother would be worried.

Not long after, you pressed one last kiss to his lips and stepped out the door for home. He watched as you made your way into the forest, headed toward the village. You looked back every few steps, a smile reaching your face to see Jefferson still standing there with joy radiating your way. If this was love, then you wanted it always. You felt sure that there couldn’t be anymore room in your heart, as he and Grace had taken root in it.

Just before the cottage was out of view, you were suddenly struck by a solid cloak of fear and confusion from all sides. The intensity of it nearly caused you to collapse, instead bracing yourself against a tree with a hand. Searching for the source, you looked around and within seconds you saw it. Billowing through the trees was a dark, purple fog towering over everything and it was headed your way. You heard Jefferson cry out behind you, causing you to turn.

“Y/N! Run!!”

Picking up your skirts, you ran as fast as you could toward his cottage, seeking shelter but the fog was close behind you. Jefferson selflessly ran toward you, hoping to pull you to safety.

“Jefferson!” you cried out in desperation, reaching for him.

He was nearly upon you as fear clawed up your throat. But it was too late.

“No! Y/N!”

And then there was nothing.

______________

Part Two>>>

__________________________________________________

So??? What do you think of my first attempt at writing Jefferson?? It’s been so much fun, recreating the OUAT world and re-watching the show for research. He really is the most adorable character. How did you like her Empath abilities? It would definitely be exhausting but interesting as well. Clearly, I’ve changed the timeline for Jefferson and his choice to say no to the Queen allows a different life for him and Grace. What do you think will happen once the Queen’s curse hits? You get to find out on Thursday!! I’m so excited!! Please let me know your thoughts! I’ve been nervous about this new endeavor and any feedback is encouraged and appreciated. I love you all.

Tag list is still open!!

Jefferson tag list:

@learisa @skellingtonbatz @melanie451 @shadowhunter7 @bubblyanarocks3 @flowercrownsandmetallicarms @crazinessgraveyardsandcartoons @acunningstargazer @honey-bee-holly @missinstantgratification @abovethesmokestacks @joannie95 @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @csigeoblue @verygraphicink @beccaanne814 @capcevans81 @yallneedtrek @sebseyesandbuckysthighs @buckyywiththegoodhair @mrsbarneswillseeyounow @catsoftheapocalypse @louisianaspell @kingcarterprince @imaginingbucky @hollow-r-us @tardis-is-mine @averyrogers83 @yannii04

#jefferson x reader #jefferson ouat #reader x jefferson #the mad hatter #mad hatter x reader #once upon a time #enhanced!reader #sebastian stan #seb character #anika writes #aoyh fics

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purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1149

What is your age? 22, but there’s less than a month to go before I turn 23.

What annoys you? Literally every single person who still supports the government at this point. For context, we are back to square one and we’re under the exact same quarantine imposed in March 2020 because of the surge in cases. Nothing has changed and nothing has been done in the last 365 days while people are getting hungrier and poorer. I’m done feeling hopeful for this country and I cannot wait to abandon it forever.

Do you have any allergies? Apparently, grass. Can’t be exposed to it for too long otherwise the skin on my thighs turn red and occasionally even get rashes.

Do you know anyone named Billy? Kind of, but they’re girls with their name spelled as Billie.

When is your birthday? April 21st and spending it in quarantine once again this year...

Who is your best friend(s)? Angela and Andi.

What's your favorite candy? I like gummy bears and worms. As for sweets, I really like Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, Butterfinger, Twix, and the Hershey’s Cookies and Creme bar.

When was the last time you cried? Maybe a day or two ago while watching a snippet from Caught in Providence.

Have you been out of the country? Yes.

Do you daydream? Not so much these days. I’ve been better at keeping my focus at work.

What's your favorite kind of dog? I love alllllll dogs, but I’d usually be wary of smaller dogs because 87% of the times I’ve met some, they’re aggressive or a bit moody. I don’t like stereotyping dogs as much as possible but because I’ve had direct experiences to back it up anyway, *shrug*

What day of the week is it? It’s a Sunday.

How do you like your eggs? Scrambled, poached, or an omelette with lots of fillings. Balut is also great.

Have you ever been in the emergency room? Only when I was born, I’m guessing.

What's the easiest thing ever to do? Idk, what comes easy to me might not be the same for others. But my answer would be to smile, regardless if it were genuine or otherwise.

Have you ever flown in a plane? Yeah, many times. The child-like excitement I get whenever I get on one will probably never go away, either.

Do you use fly swatters? No, my mom usually uses old shoebox covers or rolled-up scratch papers we have lying around to swat them.

Have you ever used a foghorn?: Only in video games lol, never in real life.

Have you pet a goat? I don’t think I have. I’ve pet lots of animals before but I don’t think a goat has been one of them yet.

Are you a giver or a taker? Giver, but I’ve been allowing myself to take more these days.

Do you like gummy candies? Love them.

How are you? We’ve entered summer weather now, so I feel hot and miserable. It’s also Sunday and I am stuck at home, which doesn’t make me the happiest camper.

What's your height? 5′1″ or a tiny tiny tiny bit taller than that.

What color is your hair? It’s black but on extremely rare occasions I’ll catch a single light brown strand when I play with my hair.

What's your favorite ice cream? Cookies and cream and chocolate chip cookie dough. My friend Leigh actually started her own ice cream shop recently and I bought her coffee crumble ice cream, and it is sooooooooo fuckinggggggggg good??????? It’s so rare to find coffee ice cream where I live period, so I’m fucking stoked to have a close friend who makes literally the best one and in generous servings too.

Have you ever ice skated? Many times as a kid. I was never formally trained, but it was something I wanted to try from watching other kids play in mall ice skating rinks; and when I did give it a shot, I ended up enjoying it. Luckily my mom was encouraging and actually frequently dropped me off at a rink so I can practice gliding and all for a few hours while she ran errands.

Have you cheated the IRS? That’s like an American tax thingy, right? We don’t have that here and my employer handles my TIN.

What's your favorite jelly bean? Not a big fan but if I had to have Jelly Belly, I obviously would want to get the pleasant-tasting ones.

Do you tell jokes? Yes.

Do you wear nice jewelry? Only on special occasions.

Do you want to kill anybody? I don’t want to kill anybody but I certainly wish a good number of public officials would finally die.

Do you want to have kids? Yes. I really wish I could still have a future with them. Thanks for the trauma, my real asshole of an ex.

Where did you have kindergarten? Somewhere.

Are you laidback? I doubt my friends would use this to describe me. I for sure lean more towards the uptight side of the spectrum.

Do you lie? Eh, occasionally.

When is the last time you sent a hand-written letter? I have no idea. Christmas 2019 maybe?

Ever talked in a microphone? Sure. Many times.

Do you still watch Disney Movies? I very rarely get in the mood for them if I’m by myself, but yes, I’d gladly sit down and watch should an opportunity come.

Do you like mangoes? No.

Do you have a nickname? 99% of people call me Robyn while my family calls me Byn, but there are a select few friends who’ve stayed long enough with me to catch other names I’ve gotten over the years, which have since become inside jokes/nicknames. There’s Reben and Rolayn, and literally just yesterday ‘Roby’ happened when I ordered food for lunch so that will probably catch on as well.

What’s your favorite number? 4.

Do you prefer night over day? Absolutely.

Are you an only child? No, I’m two siblings away from that status.

Do you wish this was over? I haven’t felt that way, no.

What is the closet orange object near you? An orange tumbler my Kuya gave me as a Christmas gift in 2019. There is also orange tape wrapped around the charger adaptor of my company laptop.

What one fear are you most paranoid about? Waking up in the middle of surgery and being unable to speak nor move.

Do you play any instruments? Nope.

Do you think you are pretty? Some days.

Are you quick to judge people? No, unless they are already blatantly showing their character like being rude towards service staff, tossing their trash to the ground, or cutting in queues. Whenever those things happen I give myself the space and freedom to guiltlessly judge.

What do you keep quiet about? How dysfunctional my family really is, and the things I really want to say about Gabie.

Do you have any quirks? Food-wise, I like peeling off the breading from fried chicken and placing them on the side of my plate so I can eat them last, because they’re my favorite part.

What’s a good reason to cry? Frustration. Crying can be really helpful in lessening stress.

Do you think you're always right? No.

Do you watch reality TV? Not religiously, but I love watching snippets of reality shows on Facebook because they’re all so embarrassing and it’s hilarious to watch hahahahah. Literally last night I was watching clips of Big Ed on 90 Day Fiance.

Are you a social person? More so now than I was years ago.

What states have you lived in? I lived in Manila briefly but it didn’t take long till we transferred to another city for a more peaceful life in the suburbs.

What is your favorite season? I wanna say winter because of what I’ve seen from it in movies and shows, but I’ve never actually experienced it before.

When did you last sleep in a tent? Sometime in March or April last year.

Do you like tomatoes? Mostly in diced form. Tomato sauce is fine but I don’t really like it in my pasta. Bloody Mary also tastes rather awful.

What time did you wake up? 8:30 AM.

Do you have an umbrella in your car? I think so, yeah. I finally placed one in there lmao.

Do listen to Usher? Eh, not really. 2000s R&B isn’t my thing, save for Beyoncé.

Describe the underwear your wearing? It’s light blue.

What’s the worst veggie? I never learned to like pechay. I’d still eat it, but only because I like cleaning up my entire plate.

Do you like movies with violence? Some. Like I hate action movies but I enjoyed A Clockwork Orange and Scream lol.

Where do you want to go on vacation? I recently bookmarked an Airbnb in Zambales and the accommodation is basically this super cute line of tipi-styled huts by the beach. I'd love to have a solo trip push through once this Covid mess subsides.

Ever been on a wave runner? No.

Where do you work? I work in a PR company.

Do you wish on stars? Just sometimes.

Have you ever had an x-ray? Only for mandatory medical exams.

Do you own a xylophone? I think I had a toy one as a kid, but it’s not with me anymore.

Have you watched the x-games? No, not interested.

What did you do yesterday? I stayed at home; ordered food for Angela as a surprise; debated if I should buy a pair of Air Maxes – and ultimately decided I’ve already spent too much this month to deserve a new pair of shows lol; and just settled to buy a new night lamp for my bedroom. I also watched the newest episode of 2 Days 1 Night and ate more of Leigh’s ice cream while doing work.

Do you like the color yellow? Only in mustard yellow. I also like the song Yellow, heh.

What year were you born?: 1998.

Do you believe in the zodiac? No.

Has your bank account been at zero? No. I remember when I was first opening my own account at the bank and the clerk told me to make sure I don’t go below P2,000, and my intensely by-the-book ass has been following the rule ever since, even though my dad has told me it’s absolutely fine to go below it so long as I have P2,000 back in the account after a month hahaha.

Ever been to the zoo? A few.

#survey #surveys

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thelastlonelywriter · 4 years

Text

Hey so y’all know that post about how the people of Rohan don’t know how to read and Faramir probably taught Éowyn how to read? Because that lives in my head rent free so here are some headcanons:

When Éowyn first mentioned that she couldn’t read, it was the closest that she had ever seen to pity for her in Faramir’s eyes

She avoided him for a week because she was scared that he’d think of her as stupid or lesser

She confides in Aragorn and he straight up laughs

“You really think that Faramir could ever think ill of you? Go talk to him before I have to suffer another meeting where he’s too busy sulking to help me.”

Éowyn finds Faramir in the library

He’s curled up on the sill of one of the windows, mostly hidden by the curtains, holding a thin, well-worn book in his lap

When she tells him why she’s been avoiding him, he just pulls her down into a hug and holds her there for a long time

“I don’t think any less of you, forgive me for making you think it. Books were my childhood, and I could not imagine a life without them.”

“Teach me.”

Éowyn tucks herself onto the windowsill next to him and pulls the curtain closed

That day, Faramir just reads from his book, a collection of old tales that Gandalf used to read to him

Éowyn leans on his shoulder and smiles at the faces he makes

He uses different voices for the characters, although he doesn’t realize he does

Éowyn loves to listen to him read

When he starts teaching her to read, she almost misses listening

After the birth of their first child, she tells him that she’s glad she can listen to him read his stories again

They read the stories to their children together

Faramir thinks the way Éowyn’s nose scrunches up when she finds a word she doesn’t know is adorable

He still reads the stories in voices

They both think to themselves, every night, without fail, This must be what love is

#lord of the rings #faramir #Éowyn #farawyn #if anyone knows OP of the original post please let me know #I might be a sucker for one person teaching their love to read #I don't know if you've noticed #abandon all hope ye queue enter here

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fata-vocant · 4 years

Text

you’ve been hit by

you’ve been struck by

a small eleven-year-old

#this is why i can’t trust kids smh #always about to kill reverend priam #tagamemnon #abandon all hope ye queue enter here #the iliad #my post #pyrrhus #priam #neoptolemus #screams from the abyss

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eternalwormdevouringconneticut · 3 years

Text

help me pick a tag 4 queued posts (or else >:(!!!)

Queue unto others as you would have them Queue to you

Abandon all hope ye Queue enter here

While Queue live, tell truth and shame the Devil!

Hair of the dog that bit Queue

Queue not stand at my grave and weep

#please #stonebutchzuko blues

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johannepetereric · 3 years

Text

Emi, You’re Not A Stalker!

Again, I am using dialogue from the anime. I don’t own CFV. I am using it because I can’t think of any other dialogue to put in its place.

________________________________________________________________

Aichi greeted Emi a yawned “Good morning” from the kitchen table, right after being slapped awake by Kaa-san.

What? He was up since 5 this morning cooking breakfast! It’s only been a few days; his body has yet to adjust yet!

Well, at least the blueberry muffins taste good.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you didn’t even have a alarm clock.”

Aichi stretched himself back, a longer, more drawn-out yawn escaping like ghosts, tilting the chair slightly. “Emi, I was up since five in the morning baking! What did you think I was doing?” He whispered-yawned. “I went to bed at eight for this.”

Emi looked furious, face colored the pigments of the tomatoes he sliced and diced today.

“That’s right, Emi. Please respect your brother. He is next-in-line to be the Matriarch, after all.” Shizuka Sendou, the current Matriarch, reminded the daughter. As stated in a previous post, Emi was booted out of queue as soon as Aichi declared that he found his mate (future boyfriend!). So now, Emi is the one subject to sleeping in! “And Aichi! Eat your waffles!”

Indeed, three waffles were stacked in the future-matriarch’s plate, two more than on the other two, saturated with syrup and butter and berries--and a dash of whipped cream!

Aichi’s tried eyes awoke as he remembered this. He popped a super-sugary waffle fork into his mouth, salivating at its sweet, sweet, pick-me-up texture and essence of home. While Aichi was finishing up the muffins earlier, she was making extra waffles for her new apprentice! Although Aichi barely managed to slag through the motions, the produce did turn out as advertised!

“Aichi, hurry up! I don’t have to drive you to school, do I?” Indeed, the Sendou Matriarch has a motorcycle (legally licensed, of course) in the garage (or out back).

“No, Kaa-san!” He filled himself as much as he could, earning himself a tummyache and vomiting into a trash can near school, but he at least wasn’t late this time!

Right after Aichi left, the girls had about the same talk as in the anime:

“Aichi’s been working hard this morning. He’s been going to bed later and is now rising just as earlier. He only had five hours of sleep last night.” The mother shook her head fondly. “I hope he found something fun after school.”

This was a lie by omission, one could say. Shizuka does know, but Emi is a troublesome girl to deal with in the affairs of love. The mother could only sigh in contempt. Emi questioned why, but the other said to “let it be. Your brother has enough worry on his shoulders as it is.” And shuffled away to do whatever it is she does.

Emi pondered this lateness.

Right on time, she stalked her brother.

“Hold it right there, Aichi. You’re not going home yet!” A menacing voice shrieked.

“Morikawa, I told you you’re not my type!” Aichi squealed back. The bully looked seriously offended and just threatened him more.

She saw her brother being threatened by the two boys (”Morikawa” and who must be his lackey), talking about plans, and she saw that they weren’t touching the new lunchbag her brother was bringing the past few days.

I hope that they’re both all right! She thought. She knew it wrong to be worried about the food, but Mom would be sad if they were ruined!

I hope they’re not going to assault him!

The threatening of a beating continued, and she fussed over why in the world he’d play along with them why isn’t he scrambling to safety?!

Card Capital, the place they entered read. Must be their evil lair!

“Stop right there!” she yelled through the automatic door, only to be met with reverberating silence.

A green-hared man in glasses led up to her with, “Eh--how can I help you, young lady?”

“What? Eh? I’m here for my brother?”

“Well-” she was given a whole spiel, a guided tour of the place. She spied Aichi smiling and untouched and seemingly ignoring her, and she finally looked around.

Little kids about her age leaning around little tables; a cashier next to her; a glass case beyond there; cards on display; a bored-looking lady, previously reading a book at the register, staring an icy death into the little girl.

This really is a safe space. But what if it’s just money-laundering?

“Oh, those two are about to start a Cardfight. You want to see?” One most menacing bully and Aichi had locked eyes on the table, seemingly ignoring the girl who dared to believe this a bad place.

Emi nodded. The lunchbox was between Aichi’s feet, seemingly unopened. Looking at the floor, she didn’t see any crumbs.

What she didn’t know was that Misaki was hiding her half-eaten muffin under the counter, to be slowly devoured over the course of the day XD!

She watched Aichi ride “Blaster Blade,” the one he’s the reincarnation of. The face, it looked so...so...

A True Leader.

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“Why do I never draw the cards I need?”

“Uh, because Morikawa is stupid?” Aichi offered.

“Aaaaaaah!” Izaki held back the bully--Morikawa--by the collar. The dumb*** was choking.

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“bUT i SCORED ANOTHER AWESOME gRADE 3!” (Yaaaas, I’m keeping it like this!)

“You’ll have to discard them eventually...”

“DO YOU NOT BELIEVE YOUR MASTER?!”

Aichi sweatdropped. “Morikawa, this is why you’re not my type.”

Emi snickered at that. Her big brother can be so picky sometimes.

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

“Gallatin attacks Barr!”

Aichi...you’re so different. Your eyes have no sense of hardening here. You don’t look as afraid as before. Compared to you now, Aichi, he looks so weak. Bark but no bite.

...

“--I attack Barr for the win!” Aichi has changed so much. Did Kaa-san know about this?

Yes, it must be...finally playing Vanguard, as he’s so desperately wanted. The drive, the sparkle, the matriarchal glimmer that Kaa-san has chasing a cornered “Karen.” And Psyqualia looks unnecessary.

“Eh?? Why isn’t the attack going through?”

Aichi sighed in exasperation. She feels it completely. What a mood. He responded in monotone, dead-eyed again, “Blaster Blade initially had 19000 power. I boosted with Wingal, which gives Blaster Blade an 4000 power. I now have to check the drive trigger.”

Critical. 4 damage. Add +1 damage to Blaster Blade, and...

“Aaaaaaaah!” Emi covered her ears for this one, her brother wincing.

“I looooooost!”

“And look! He took zero damage!” A smug glimmer appeared in her brother’s eyes, a look so often used every week. Someone pointed it out--Aichi was squirming and twitching in anticipation for the moment when he could fold his arm like an egotistical champ again. Forehead furrowed trying to hold back as villainous face. Well,

“DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT, YOU PUNK! I JUST LOST ON PURPOSE!” Aichi sweatdropped, never once losing that smug expression--which juts out more prominently now that he’s taken his opponent down an emotional peg.

His jaw twitched in the desire to smirk.

Emi’s had enough of this bull****.

“Aichi!”

“Emi?! What are you doing here?!”

“Me?! You’re the one who’s abandoning your duties.”...Oops.

Aichi stormed over to her cross-eyes, ready to give the middle finger and A Lesson About Respect.

“Now you listen here, young lady!”

“Aichi, stop.” A snappish, stern voice snapped them out of their oncoming tirade--which is bad for public relations.

Aichi veered this particular maniac look at the teen. Misaki-san looked slightly unsettled but glared back with equal virility.

An staring contest ensued, lightning sparking between them, Aichi’s eyes slightly turned downward--of course. It’s a girl.

“So,” Emi crossed her arms in contempt. “You’ve been coming here to play games.”

Aichi’s eyes narrowed, attention twisted toward the imouto again, back straightened. Time to Defend. “What can you do about it?” He answered in equal condescension.

This killed the mood--if it already wasn’t when Emi caused a reaction from the blunet.

“Yes, Kaa-san knows. We knew you’d freak out. But to pull a stunt like this?” Tsk, tsk, tsk, he clicked as he shook his flowy, clean sea. “This is beneath even you.”

“You are aware your friends know of your true nature, right?”

“I revealed it to them the day after I met Kai-kun.”

“Merciless.” She agreed, calmer now, for it is factual. The feminine male had grown a cruel side, not totally unlike your stereotypical tsundere or yandere.

Aichi must’ve been brutal, so worked up like that. She can sense the romantic feels spiraling out of his soul, his heart. The mere moment of affection from one breath was enough to suppress a bit of her killer curiosity--one of many reasons as to why we fight.

“So is Vanguard fun to play for you?”

“Yes!” He shouted with no hesitation, face now morphed back to when he rode his Avatar. “So much fun! I don’t have to worry about losing!” He pushed out two fingers--Too-dles! It doesn’t matter whether I win or lose. I’m going to have fun, anyway.

Emi smiled.

“Might I play sometime?”

Aichi grunted, maternal smile gleaming naturally.

Indeed, he’ll be a wonderful mother and waifu. The Perfect Matriarch.

“Ok. Bye! I expect your lasagna tonight!” Emi headed out towards home.

She could hear clamor about Aichi’s “secret” cooking abilities. Emi is proud of her brother. He has much room to grow, and he has finally opened the floodgates to reaching that level of maturity required to be a mature--emotionally mature--adult.

Indeed, Emi will love meeting this new, dormant Aichi.

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littlemarvelfics · 5 years

Text

Guard You: The Rescue (3/4)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: about 1.5k

Warnings: nothing

Square Filled: Rescue Mission for @star-spangled-bingo

A/N: We’re almost at the end! Don’t be afraid to drop me a line with your thoughts!

You opened your eyes slowly, your head pounding and an ache in your neck. You tried to raise your arms to rub the drowsiness from your eyes but the wouldn’t move for their position behind your back. You looked around the room, it was bare except the metal chair you were tied to and the lightbulb hanging above you. You were seemingly alone but you couldn’t be sure, the fuzziness in your head affecting your senses. You didn’t know how long you’d been gone but you could only hope Bucky had realized you were gone.

++++++++++

Bucky woke up the next morning with a sinking feeling in his gut. He had left you alone the previous night, he knew he had made a mistake by kissing you. When you kissed him back, he was over the moon but when you pushed him away, reality came crashing down on him. You were clearly into Steve, why did he think kissing you was a good idea? He left you alone that night and most of the following morning, knowing you were upset with him. Bucky had just gotten word that the team would be back in a few hours so he went to your room to let you know and maybe even try to talk to you about the night before.

Bucky walked up to your room and knocked on the door gently, saying your name quietly. When no answer came, he tried again with a little more force but there was still no answer.

“FRIDAY?” he asked the air around him.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?” the AI quickly answered.

“Is Y/N in her room?”

“Yes, she’s been in her room since she arrived back at 10:42pm last night,” FRIDAY confirmed.

Bucky turned his attention back to your door.

“I know you’re mad, but I have to talk to you. Please just say something,” he said, leaning his ear against the door and waiting for any sound to come through. When nothing happened, he spoke to the AI again.

“FRIDAY, unlock the door,” he demanded.

When he heard the lock click, he opened the door slightly.

“I’m coming in okay? I’m worried about you,” he said as he stepped through the threshold of your room.

Bucky looked around and didn’t see you anywhere. He checked the bed, the bathroom, he even went so far as to check under the bed and in the closet. But you were nowhere to be found.

“FRIDAY, you said she was in here,” Bucky said.

“My reading indicated she is, she’s laying on her bed.”

“I’m looking at her bed and she’s not there,” he grumbled to himself, knowing something was wrong. Bucky quickly took the elevator to the security room, asking FRIDAY to queue up the video from when you returned to your room last night. He watched the video closely. You had barely come into your room when someone came up behind you and drugged you with something, causing you to slump over quickly. You never even had a chance to use any of the moves Bucky had taught you earlier.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Bucky mumbled to himself as he pulled out his phone, dialing Steve.

“Hello?” he answered.

“We have a problem, Y/N is gone,” Bucky said quickly.

“WHAT? How the hell is she gone?!” Steve demanded.

“Someone did an override of FRIDAY’s system. She didn’t send any break-in alerts and when I was in Y/N’s empty room, she was reading Y/N as in her bed.”

“Dammit, we’ll be there in an hour Bucky. Start searching,” Steve said before hanging up.

Bucky sighed and started with what he knew, searching for traces of anyone related to why you were at the compound in the first place. The team was back before Bucky had a chance to call with any updates.

“You had one job Buck! To protect her. But you couldn’t do that?” Steve said as he stormed into the security room where Bucky had been working. “Maybe if you could have put whatever bullshit you have with her aside, you would have been able to do your job and I wouldn’t be the only cleaning up your messes!”

Steve expected Bucky to fight back but to his surprise, Bucky just nodded.

“I know, I should have checked on her in person more instead of relying on FRIDAY. But I think I found where they’re keeping her,” he said, pointing to the monitor.

Steve rushed over and listened to Bucky explain his reasoning, nodding along as he absorbed the information. Bucky had found everything he could, down to the number of guards they probably had on the place.

“Alright, it’ll take us an hour to get there. I’m not taking any chances here, she’s a civilian and she’s our number one priority. Wheels up in 20,” he said, exiting the room without another glance at Bucky.

++++++++

Bucky put on his uniform mechanically, the guilt eating at him slowly. When Steve had stormed in yelling at him, he couldn’t even put up a fight. Steve was right, it was all his fault that you were gone. The idea that you weren’t safe was killing him. He knew his only redemption would be to get you back safe.

+++++++

Steve went through the plan one last time; Sam and Tony were on air support, taking out the surrounding guards quickly and quietly so the ground team consisting of Steve, Natasha, Bucky, and Wanda could get into the building and split up, searching the abandoned office building for you.

Everyone nodded their understanding, the plan was simple and logical, nothing they hadn’t done before. But for the two super-soldiers, the stakes felt higher than ever before. Once everyone had settled in again for the flight, Steve pulled Bucky aside.

“Why didn’t you check on her?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know,” Bucky mumbled, attempting to end the conversation but Steve wasn’t giving up.

“Yes, you do. What was going on? You’ve been all over her since she got here but when it mattered-”

“I kissed her!” Bucky said, interrupting his friend’s speech. “I kissed her all right? And then we both panicked. She ran off to her room and asked to be left alone. I felt guilty so I did and that’s when they took her. So yes, this is entirely my fault. I get it. Can we drop it and focus on getting her back?”

“You kissed her?” Steve questioned quietly.

“Yeah, I did. But she clearly wasn’t into it, so can we drop it?”

Steve nodded quickly and left Bucky alone, taking a seat next to Sam.

++++++++++

Everything was going according to plan, the perimeter guards had been taken out and the ground team was doing their sweep. It didn’t take long for them to find the floor where they had you, it was the only heavily armed area. Bucky nodded at Natasha when she looked at him, signaling she was ready when he was. Bucky pulled his knife out of its sheath and charged at the same time Natasha did. He barely registered taking down the guards, his only focus was to get you out of there. Natasha called the other to the floor they were on before quietly and slowly entering the area where they could hear a man talking.

The first thing Bucky saw was you, stripped of most of your clothes, tied to a chair with your head hanging forward limply. He saw the slight rise and fall of your chest, reassuring him that you weren’t dead. But based on the amount of blood pooling around you, he didn’t have long to get you out of there. The man holding you must have sensed the movement behind him, quickly crouching behind you, blocking any shot Bucky or Natasha could have taken. Bucky recognized his face instantly- Congressman Murray, the man you had turned in as a HYDRA operative.

“Come any closer and I’ll kill her,” he said quickly.

Bucky saw movement behind him, the flash of red, white and blue that he knew so well. Steve’s shield flew through the air, missing you but hitting the Congressman straight in the back. The force was enough to cause him to fall slightly, Steve moving in to restrain him before he could get back up.

Bucky ran over to you quickly, taking his knife and cutting the binds that held you to the metal chair. Without anything supporting you, you fell limply forward into Bucky’s arms.

“Bucky?” you mumbled.

“Yeah, it’s me doll. Don’t worry, I’ve got you. I’m gonna get you outta here.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky could see Steve coming over and Natasha calling for an emergency evac.

“Bucky, ‘m sorry,” you slurred. “It all happened too fast.”

“I know, it’s okay. Just stay with me.”

“Tell Steve I’m sorry too,” you said quietly, not realizing he was right there.

“You can tell him yourself when we get you fixed up,” Bucky said frantically.

Bucky heard the boots of the paramedics running into the room.

“They’re here, Y/N. You’re gonna be okay,” Bucky reaffirmed.

There was no response from you, just deafening silence.

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justauthoring · 5 years

Text

Corruption of Innocence (4/?)

Prompt: The Capital was cruel. The people there even more so. If this arrangement truly was meant to follow through, Jaime knew you would be corrupted by Kings Landing. But staring at you now, with bright doe eyes and a soft smile on your lips as you engaged in a conversation with your brother, hushed so as not to be disrespectful, Jaime knew he would put all his focus and strength into making sure that never happened.

A/N: I KNOW THIS IS SIMILAR TO @reader-imagines “VOW”, BUT I PROMISE THAT AFTER THIS PART IT WILL BE COMPLETELY DIFFERENT. Yes, I know I took inspiration, you don’t have to remind me. I am not copying, I simply used her series for inspiration. But after this part, nothing will be the same, not even remotely similar

Anyways, now that that’s done, lol, thank you all for your amazing support! After much thought and help from my mom, I finally know the direction I want to take this series and let me tell you, I’M HELLA EXCITED. Things are only going to get better from here, I assure you. So please, keep commenting, reblogging and liking, because it inspires me to write more and upload frequently.

Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. As usual, I hope you all enjoyed!

AGAIN, remember if you’d like me to continue this series, just leave a little comment or an ask letting me know. I will NOT continue the series if no one wants me to.

Please don’t plagiarize my work - I spend a lot of my time writing, copying and pasting destroys that. If you want to repost my work. please ask first - but even then I might say no.

Pairing: Jaime x Stark!Reader

Based off of: Game of Thrones 01x07, 01x08 and 01x09

With your father’s arrest, things only became more strained between you and Jaime.

It didn’t help that he’d dragged you along to his father’s fleet before taking you along with his own army to Riverrun, for reasons you still didn’t understand. You guessed, in ways, it was better then being stuck in the Capital with Cersei’s glares and the looming threat of guards following you every step you took.

You had to abandon both your sisters and your father, but you’d been okay with it. Because when you left things had been fine, maybe a little shaky. But you could only imagine the chaos that has ensued with your father’s arrest, leaving you wondering what would happen to you along the way. You wondered what was happening with your sisters now, if they were okay. If your father was okay... stuck in a cell that he had no reason being in.

You stayed in your tent almost ninety percent of the time. Jaime’s men didn’t like you, and they made that perfectly clear. Plus, it didn’t dwell well on you being the only woman in sight for miles. If you left the safety of your tent, you were either regarded with glares or lecherous smiles, both of which the implications behind them were easy enough for you to understand.

All you’d done was trade one cage for another.

But, spending all day in your tent gave you lots of time to listen. The guards stationed outside of your tent never stopped chatting it seemed, and through them you’d learned a lot about why Jaime, Tywin and the Lannister army had all left the Capital. You knew that Jaime was using his somewhat smaller army than his father’s to defeat the Riverlords, which he’s managed to do. You know he’s trying to land siege on Riverrun currently as well.

However, you also knew that your brother, Robb Stark, has gathered your father’s men upon his arrest. It’s that thought that keeps you stable everyday. That stops you from wasting away in your small tent, lonelier then you’ve ever been before. You remembered when your days had been filled with friends and family and those you loved. And now your life was a sad reflection of it. You missed your family, and you hoped you’d be able to see them again soon.

Jaime and you rarely spoke. What little bit of trust you’d had for him had considerably lessened since his attack on your father, and now, with word of his arrest, you placed all the blame on Jaime. It wasn’t fair, you knew. While Jaime might have some place in it all, which you knew he did, he definitely wasn’t the only one to blame. His entire family should fall to blame, but you didn’t much care. He turned out to be the husband you’d feared him to be.

Even if by vow the two of you were family, you always came second in his eyes.

A whine pulls you from your thoughts. Your head tilts to the right, eyes falling on that of Antheia. The sight of her brings a small smile to your lips, her head coming to a rest on your thigh as she stares up at you with a pout. Without hesitation, your hand comes to rest on her head, scratching it lightly.

“You’ll never leave me, right?” You question softly, the edges of your lips curled into a soft smile as your eyes crinkle with delight. Antheia let’s a small mewl out in response to your words, shuffling slightly on her paws as she pushes herself closer to you, her head tilting into your palm, clearly enjoying your attention. “Just like i’ll never leave you.”

When Jaime enters the tent, your back is turned to him.

You don’t notice his presence, or, if you do, you don’t make note of it. Jaime feels his feet slow as he takes a moment to glance down at you, shoulders falling. He can hear your soft whispers as you gesture down to your wolf beneath you, clearly lost in your own thoughts.

The sight is sad, Jaime realizes. The image of you, that is. He’s never seen someone look so lonely surrounded by thousands, and it’s clear that you don’t fit in. In the midst of a Lannister army, even with the same last name, it’s clear you’re a Stark. A wolf in a den of lions. Jaime hasn’t seen you smile in days, and he wonders if he ever will again.

With your father being arrested for treason, he figures not.

Jaime wonders if bringing you here had been a mistake. If he should’ve left you back at Kingslanding, within the safety of your chambers. But then he remembers that the Capital isn’t any safer for you then his camp is. You would still be a lone wolf in a den of lions there, and at least here he could keep an eye on you. There’s no telling what Cersei would do if he left you with her alone. And with your father being accused of treason, it was even more dangerous for a Stark now.

So, no, he hadn’t made a mistake. He knows that, but can’t help but wonder when he sees you, almost as if you live in your own cloud of darkness and despair.

Jaime can’t explain the feelings that run through him. He doesn’t know if what he feels for you is love or just pity. But he does know that he doesn’t ever want to see you in danger. He wants to protect you, keep you safe, that much he knows at least. And maybe it runs deeper, but Jaime’s thoughts still often return to that of his sister and he’s never felt more conflicted then he has these past few weeks. His thoughts are jumbled into a mess of confusion, and he wishes everything would just become clear.

It didn’t seem like that would happen anytime soon, so Jaime settled for keeping you as safe as he possibly could. For heeding to the vows he’d made to you on your wedding day and keeping you safe from the cruel dangers of the world.

Coughing slightly, to catch your attention, Jaime steps forward as if he hadn’t just been watching you. You instantly turn towards him, blinking at the sight of him. Jaime can feel your gaze follow his own as he crosses your shared tent, moving towards the table placed in the middle. He grabs his sword off the table, sliding it into it’s halter before finally, his gaze falls on you.

The empty look in your eyes is almost like a slap to his face. But he forces himself not to dwell on it longer than a second, straightening his back out, squaring his shoulders. You speak before he has the chance; “you’re back early,” you comment, setting your hands in your lap, crossing them.

“Only for a moment,” Jaime nods, gesturing to his sword. “The guards will remain stationed outside the tent. I’ve given them orders to not let anyone but me inside or out.”

You raise a brow; “is something happening?”

Jaime pauses, pondering for a moment. He wonders if he should tell you that, yes, something is happening. That he was planning on slaughtering your brother and his men. This was war after all, and he had no intention of being merciless. But, it’s that thought that stops him from telling you the truth. It won’t do him any benefits to tell you the truth, when you’re already mistrusting of him.

Instead, Jaime shrugs. “Nothing of your concern.” It’s cold, he’s aware. The jerk back and widening of your eyes tells him of that fact. There’s a moment where Jaime feels guilty, wondering if he should’ve tried to be a little nicer. But, he also knows that if he had been, you would’ve pestered, wouldn’t have left it alone. Sometimes, being cold was the best thing he could do to help you.

When you don’t response, Jaime takes that as his queue to leave. However, just before he leaves the tent completely, your voice halts him.

“Because why should your wife be concerned.”

And for a moment, Jaime just stands there. Let’s your words sink in, pondering on whether he should reply. Ultimately, he decides against it and he takes another step forward, letting the flap of the tent flap shut in response behind him, leaving you all alone in the tent.

He only glances back at the tent, imagining you inside, sat there, alone, once more before walking off.

An hour or so after Jaime departure, it had been nothing but silent. Until it isn’t.

The first thump causes you to jump, your back straightening in alert as your head turns towards the exit of the tent. Antheia also becomes alert, poised before you protectively as you listen closely. You hear the sounds of metal clanging against metal, the sound of groaning and moaning, before another thump echoes. It almost sounds like a body hitting the floor.

Then, silence once again echoes.

Antheia lowly growls in response, and your eyes dart across the tent, looking for something to protect yourself with. The first thing your eyes land on is a candlestick and without hesitating, you jump to your feet, grabbing it off the table and holding it before yourself. You can hear faint footsteps, crunching against the dirt and grass of the ground. It’s only shuffles, the footsteps not really growing any nearer, but not distancing either.

For a moment, nothing happens. Then, there’s a definite footstep, and the edge of the tent flap curls up. You feel your breath get caught into your throat, your entire muscles seizing in panic as you inhale deeply, trying to mentally prepare yourself for whatever’s to come.

Then, a figure walks in, and your eyes widen when you realize who it is. Your candle stick thumbs to the ground, all sense of panic having left your body in seconds.

“Robb?”

His eyes fall on you the second you speak, widening when he realizes it’s you. That’s it actually you, his sister, stood before him. A sense of relief floods his expression, and he almost relaxes as he if he’d done what he came here to do. Like finding you had been his only goal. His grip on his sword lessens and all but clatters to the ground, forgetting himself for a moment as a wide smile grows on his lips. Before you know it, Robb is before you, engulfing you in his arms and pulling you close.

You instantly return his embrace, a soft sob leaving your lips as you bury your head into the crook of his neck. It almost feels like a dream, being in your brother’s arms once more, you can hardly believe it. You feel the great need to never let go of Robb again. You’d thought you’d never see him again. Even if your father had told you otherwise at first, the fear had never truly left your mind.

One day, father had said. And he’d been right. Because he Robb was, holding you close, just like he’d done when you were kids and you’d have a nightmare. Or when Theon would scare you, and Robb wouldn’t hesitate to jump in and protect you.

As Robb pulls back, you blink, a tear escaping past your defenses and rolling down your cheek as you let out a small laugh. Robb’s left hand moves to your cheek, cupping it as he smiles down at you, his grin just as bright and wide as your own.

“I can’t believe it,” you whisper, still in shock. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

“I told you we’d see each other again.”

Jaime had been taken captive by your brother, a hefty prize in the battle to save your father and sisters.

You wonder, as you rode back to your brother’s camp, while you felt guilty. Why the thought of Jaime being a prisoner upset you so, even if you’d never say it outwardly. He was a Lannister after all, and not more than a few hours ago had you placed all the blame upon his shoulders. But now, with no certainty of what your brother planned to do with him, you felt guilty. You were worried for his safety and wellebeing. You... thought of his capture with disdain.

You don’t ponder on the thought, holding onto your brother tighter. You let your head rest against his back, staring out at the abyss of trees and grass and land before you. Until, Robb’s voice interrupts the silence, “Y/N, look.” You heed to his words, raising your head up off his back to stare past his shoulders. When your eyes land on your mother, the wave of disbelief floods through you once more.

You’re suddenly anxious to get off the horse, to reach your mother and run into her arms like you used to when you were a little girl. And even if you’re still across the field, you swear your eyes meet hers and you watch as she tries to hold back her own tears, immense relief flooding her entire body. She’d been scared, you realized in that moment, that Robb would not make it back but she hadn’t expected you to be with him.

When you finally reach her, you all but jump off the back of Robb’s horse. Your hands gather your skirts, picking up the speed in your step as you rush over to your mother, a choked sob leaving her lips as she wraps her arms around your shoulders. You fall into her embrace easily, cuddling into her just like you had Robb, your eyes falling shut at the feeling of her hand on the back of your head, soothing you.

It had been so lonely these past few weeks. Sure, you’d had your father and sisters, but you’d barely been allowed to see them. And then you’d missed your mother and brother, terribly so. Yet, here you were, back in your mother’s arms and you couldn’t be more happier. More relieved.

“My sweet, sweet girl,” your mother whispers, pulling back slightly to cup both of your cheeks. Her thumb works to wipe your tears away, smiling softly at the sight of you back in her grasp. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you whisper, your voice cracking as you lean into your mother once more.

You don’t notice it, too lost in your own thoughts. But as mother holds you close, her gaze rises, falling on Robb’s who hasn’t left your sides. She smiles at her eldest son, mouthing the words; “thank you.” It may not be all of her children, and there was still much more work to be done, but she at least had one of her daughters back. And she didn’t plan on letting you go anytime soon.

The moment is interrupted by the sounds of footsteps. You pull back from your mother’s grasp slightly, composing yourself when you notice Jaime, hands chained behind his back, being led over to where you and mother are stood with Robb. Your back straightens, as if remembering where you were, and you feel mother’s grip tighten on you slightly, holding you closer. You also don’t miss the way Robb steps in front of you, somewhat shielding you from view from Jaime who is unceremoniously dropped to the ground at your feet.

“By the time they knew what was happening, it had already happened,” Robb explains, glaring down at your husband. As Jaime picks himself up, eyes flickering to those around him, his eyes land on you. It’s the first time he’s seen you since he left you in that tent a few hours ago, and you inhale sharply as you meet his gaze, time slowing for a moment. However, his attention is pulled away the minute Robb presses the tip of his sword against Jaime’s chin, tilting his gaze towards him.

“Lady Stark,” Jaime greets your mother, chuckling slightly. “I’d offer you my sword, but I seemed to have lost it.”

“It is not your sword that I want,” your mother growls. “Give me my daughters back. Give me my husband.”

Jaime’s eyes then land on you. “I believe you’ve already found one.”

Mother then pushes you behind her, you stumbling slightly in response as her voice turns colder, harsher. “All my daughters.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Jaime sighs; “I've lost them too, i’m afraid.”

“Kill him, Robb,” Theon suddenly speaks with force and you can’t help the gasp that leaves your lips. Instantly, your widen eyes fall on the back of your brothers head. “Send his head to his father. He cut down ten of our men. You saw him--”

Regrettably, Robb’s next words fill you with instant relief. “He’s more useful to us alive then dead.”

“Take him away and put him in irons,” Catelyn orders, her heavy gaze never leaving Jaime’s.

“We could end this war right now, boy,” Jaime offers as he’s brought up to his feet. “Save thousands of lives. You fight for the Starks, I fight for the Lannisters. Swords or lances, teeth, nails, choose your weapons and let’s end this, here and now.”

Lips parting, you swallow thickly.

“If we do it your way, Kingslayer,” Robb begins, “you’d win. We’re not doing it your way.”

“Come on, pretty man,” Greatjon growls, tugging Jaime away. You watch as he’s pulled away, biting your lip as laughter and cheering echoes on around you. Laughter and excitement you just can’t rejoice in. You’re happy, beyond happy, to be back with your mother and brother but as you watch Jaime be led away, you can’t help the empty feeling in your chest.

A empty feeling you thought would’ve gone now that you were with your family, but was still there, it the pit of your chest. And it was because of Jaime. Because Jaime’s safety was unsure and there was nothing, rightfully, you could do about it.

Theon steps forward then, catching your attention. Robb can’t seem to mimic the smile on his face as he sighs. “I sent two thousand men to their grave today.”

“The bards will sing songs of their sacrifice,” Theon reminds.

“Aye,” Robb sighs, “but the dead won’t hear them.”

He turns to look at your mother, then you. As you meet his eyes, you nod softly, ignoring your own inner thoughts, encouraging him. That seems to give him the push he needs, stepping past Theon to face his army. “One victory does not make us conquerors. Did we free my father?” You frown at the mention of your father, shoulders falling as you envision the last time you’d spoken with him. “We saved my sister, yes,” you blink as Robb gestures to you, meeting his eyes briefly. “But what about the other two? Have we rescued them from the queen? Did we free the north from those who want us on our knees?

Pausing a moment, Robb let’s his eyes wander across his army. “This war is far from over.”

Part 5?

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