#and then he expects me to lie when I said its not approved yet??!!!!? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

grugruel · 3 months

Text

Movement

Pairings: mob!bucky x undercover!f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: Working undercover wasn't what you had expected. Dancing at events was, privately entertaining the boss wasn't. Your story climaxes tonight, leaving Bucky cuffed to a bed and you bent over a windowsill.

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: pinv sex, rough sex, semi-public sex, voyeurism ish?, choking, edging, creampie, thigh-riding ish, fingering.

AN: Not edited yet! Got a dirty dancing vibe from nowhere, so I ran with it. Yall will notice. Please do comment your thoughts! It really motivates me :)

I look around me, gaze drifting over the crowd. My eyes meeting a particular set, catching him staring. I turn my head away, and all of a sudden. Everything, was for him.

Every move, every sway, every sweep of my arms and rock of my hips. I did to his liking, for his approval.

The music blurred around me, so lost in the moment. . .

A soft purple light shone down upon me, giving everything an intimate glow. Illuminating my body and making my long dark dress sparkle, while casting shadows around me. Bulging and dipping, the candlelit chandelier had the darkness join me in dance. So private, yet so open. The hundreds of people slowly whirling over the dancefloor disappeared from my mind, and in its stead, only he was left. My eyes locked with his as a slim path cleared between us, the bodies of couples molding to eachother incidentally moved out of the way.

I smiled, daring him. Curling my finger, motioning for him to join me. Like a bird of paradise, I moved to impress. I moved with the rhythm of the music, brushing my knuckles over my abdomen, trailing all the way up along my torso, over the tip of my breasts and dip of my neck. My fingers messily burrying themselves in my hair, running along my scalp, hair matching the movement of my body.

Hungry eyes devouvered me, but his was the only ones I cared for. Transfixed, he moved forward, pushing people out of the way. Shouldering them to the side as he walked toward the stage, toward me. Theres was no time for curtesy, no time for clients or associates stopping to shake his hand. He waved them away, eyes never leaving me.

This had been our routine since he hired me a few months back, and unfortunately. I'd lie if I said I didn't like it, it had become personal. Even though I told myself it was just for the mission.

But this was not a game I'd let him win. Stepping off of the stage, I dove into the masses. Blending in, and dissapearing.

I, along with some other girls were the entertainment for the night. A ball James hosted every year, in attendance was only the richest and dirtiest.

Static crackled on my ear, 'Back-up on standby. .' The voice spoke as I walked toward the bar.

I was about to answer, when somebody grabbed me–

A yelp esacped me as a hand enveloped my bicep. Gripping it tightly, immidietly pulling me backward. I didnt have to look to know who it was. He'd caught me, but I couldn't avoid those beautiful blues. My eyes meet with the familiarity, they smile, and I mimic.

'Just say the word. . .' The voice came stressed, their eyes on the unfolding scene.

But I carefully raised my shoulder to my ear, playing it off as a scratch, and turned the device off. In the same moment, the music swithces from classical to something more intimate, and the room heats. Couples move from swaying together to moving against eachother, grinding smoothly to the body of the other.

With a smile, his hand slides from my bicep into my own and he pulls me back onto the grand, marbled dance floor. In a flurry of bodies, he yanks me against him. I collide with his chest and throw my arms around his shoulders in the motion. We match our movements to the others as his thigh slides between my legs, supporting me as I grind onto him. The slit in my dress exposing my thinly clothed core to his thick thigh, I bite my lip at the feeling.

Our acts disguised as nothing more than intimate dance.

The music thumps lowly, the vibrations caressing my skin deliciously as he ruts his hips against my own. My hands intertwine behind his neck and our faces come an inch apart, our heavy breaths symphonising with eachother. 'Missed you. . .' He murmurs against me.

I hum, biting my lip as a smile tugs on the corner of my mouth, 'Prove it to me, James.' And a particularly good grind treats me well, making a whimper leave me.

He grunts, capturing my bottom lip in a bite, gently tugging on it.Then speaks through clenched teeth, 'It'd be my pleasure doll.' And grabs my hand again, pulling me into the massive halls of his manor.

A few minuters later, after following dimly lit, large wood paneled walls, we arrive at his room. Like so may times before, his guards stop by the door, standing by.

Kissing we stumbled inside, the guards didnt even bat an eye, so used to this by now. The music from the ballroom dampened as the door slammed shut behind us and Buckys dark, big bedroom welcomed us. His hand glide from my hand to my waist, holding me as he backed up toward the bed. Falling back, he circled his arms around my back. Pulling me closer, he rested his chin against my abdomen, never taking his eyes from mine, big and wanting. He kissed me up my stumache to center of my chest, I sighed happily as my knuckles caressed his cheek. Eventually coming to rest in his hair, combing through it gently. Appreciatively, he hummed, kissing me more. I leaned down, met his lips– and pushed him backward.

With a swift thud and the sound of springing feathers, he hit the mattress, his body shifting back and up against the headboard. Prowling, I crawled on top of him. Stradeling his lap, I unbuttoned his blazer and shirt while sitting on his hard member. I took his hands in mine and led them to the headboard. Meanwhile, I leaned into him, my lips brushing over his. A millisecond before they met, my hands slid to his wrists and–

Doubble "Click"s sounded out.

Opening his eyes, 'Tell me this is a part of it.' He whispered against my lips, the slightest growl to the voice. I shook my head, and sat back on his lap before he lunged for me. But as predicted- he didnt get far. Hands locked in cuffs around two bars of his headboard. I laughed, 'I could lie, but it wouldn't be the first time.' And rocked my hips against his clothed member, humming from the friction his pants and my dress created. He hissed, eyes boring into mine, filled with a burning hatred as his breathing turned heavy, burdened with a long-standing lust.

Sighing mournfully, 'We could continue this thing of ours you know, still have some fun.' I hummed, taking his chin between my fingers to look at him. But he jerked his face from my grup, hands straining against the cuffs, rattling them, then lunged forward again.

I pulled back, 'Ooh-' and mocked, pretence fear lining my body language as I crawled backward and slipped to my feet at the foot of the bed. 'I can still take care of that for ya'.' I nodded toward his erection, a huge hill bulging in his pants.

He huffed and looked away.

I cocked an eyebrow and turned around, walking toward his desk, 'You underestimate me James, I've had you fooled for a long time.'

Chuckling, he answered 'Fooled? I've had you on your knees for just as long, doll.' He worked the cuffs, testing the strength of the bars.

Annoyance bubbled up inside me, 'And what about all the times you've begged me for a taste? Its laughable.'

'Yeah?' He laughed, 'And you begging me to fuck you isnt?'

My cheeks burned hot, needles of irritation pricking my skin. When I got an idea, something to. . . Give back, or get back. Whichever. 'We both knew this wouldnt last.' I said curtly, walking around his desk, riffling through it.

He nodded slowly, 'Didn't think you'd have the stumache to turn me in, still think you don't.'

I huffed, 'Yeah?' Pulling out a particular set of documents, the ones I needed to put him in his place, and held them up for him to see.

'Yeah.' His eyes narrowed on the papers.

I browsed through it, then met his eyes with a smirk, 'Fascinating.' I jerked my eyebrows upward in challenge.

'You wouldnt.'

'I would.' And nudged my earpiece again, 'I got them.'

He shook his head, dissapointment ruining his beautiful features. It stung, It really did. I didn't want to hurt him. Fuck, I really did care for him.

Static, 'Copy, extraction team will meet you at the edge of the property.' At that I turned it off again, everything wasn't for them to hear.

I walked up to him, his gaze followed my every step. Although mad, he didnt want to forget me. Furiously, he studied my curves, intent on not forgetting.

'How come you've not called your guards?' I asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to him, tracing a finger along his abs, observing the way his skin grew goosebumps.

'I wouldnt stoop that low.' He jabbed, the pain in my chest might as well have come from the tip of a knife, his knife.

I cleared my throat, 'Well. . . As I said–' my hand slipped downward, '–I could do you a kindness, and take care of this for you.' I whispered, cupping his bulge, 'Maybe set a start to my making up to you.'

'Fuck.' He groaned, bucking into my touch. Closing his eyes, he shook his head again.

'No?' I retracted my hand, my dress strap slipping as I did so. Revealing a tad more of my chest, his eyes opened, and stared. I quirked an eyebrow, and he met my eyes. Pleading. Silently, we understood eachother. We felt what we could not say because of who we were.

I smiled, working my shoulder to let the strap slip further. Revealing my breast, nipple turning hard from the cool air. He sighed, eyes turning soft with adoration. I stood and backed up, and he leaned forward to follow me. But cuffs yanked him back, resteaining him. A glint of annoyance sparked in his admiring eyes. At this, I smiled again. Wicked this time. I walked over to the desk, jumping up on it with a hop and crossing my legs.

'How often will you think back on our memories together?' I ask coyly, a finger trailing up my leg through the slit of my dress.

'More than I do now.' He answered, voice gruff. Pain and lust adorning it.

His response pleased me deeply, I uncrossed my legs and spread them wider. Wide enough to catch a glimpse of my lingerie. At the sight, he yanked the cuffs, desperation taking hold of him. His breathing turning heavy, his eyes on the prize. My fingers slide under the skirt of my dress, folding it over my other leg. Hands moving toward my core. He grunts, spurring me on. The sight of him making my core ache, cuffed, animalistic and depraved. For a second, I toyed with the thought of releasing him. Closing my eyes, I imagined the way he would make my body ache in all the ways it craved. I hummed as a finger reached my panties, sliding up and down my clothed slit. All the while Bucky huffed and puffed, only contributing to my illusions. His member was probably straining uncomfortably against his pants by now. I bit my lip, a finger slipping under the fabric, into my core. Instantly drenched in my juices, I heard a whimper, and opened my eyes.

On the bed infront of me, he'd managed to get onto his knees, arms extended behind him, held by the cuffs, keeping him from falling face first. His mouth agape, panting desperatley as he watched me.

I pushed another finger inside, then another. He bit his lip to muffle another whimper, licking them furiously.

Thrusting gently, I curled them into my special spot. Moaning, as his whimpers spurred me on. Pushing me over the edge in a few short moments, I hummed. Trying to stay relatively quiet.

'Gonna beg me for a taste again?' I asked, and he nodded enthusiastically, 'I could sit on your face for you.' And at that, his eyes filled with hope, but my wicked smile returned, letting him know he would't get that lucky.

I stood, dress falling back into place, breast still exposed. Sautering over to him, then got on my kneeson the bed infront of him. Holding my fingers out to him, slick with my arousal. Greedily, he took them into his mouth, lapping and sucking at every ounce of my juice, hungrily moaning all the while. I pulled my fingers back, and he whimpered at the loss. Seding pulses through my body, his eyes roamed over me as I kneeled infront of him, gaze landing on my breast, 'Can I? Please?' He asked, eyebrows furrowing. I nodded, and in a second his mouth closed around my breast, sucking it into his mouth. Humming, I sighed, enjoying it while it lasted. With one hand holding the folder, I ran the other through his hair, scratching his scalp, 'Such a good boy.' I whispered, and he moaned a hot breath against me, 'The great James Barnes, falling apart by a woman's–' I began, but suddenly, he bit my nipple, making me yelp and pull back.

'Youre not just any woman.' He said, a devilish quirk to his lips.

I sighed, but the lip of my corner tugged as I turned around. Pulling my strap up, I made my way toward the fogged up window and opened it. Cool, damp air flooded inside, chilling me pleasantly as I wathched the view overlooking the gardens.

Before I could make my escape, I turned around to look at him one last time. However, not liking what I was met with.

Pulling himself back, he wrapped his hands around the bars and yanked–

To my horror, one of the two came loose with a worrying clang, making him fall forward.

I'd teased him to much for my own good. 'James, lets just-' I began, and his eyes snapped to mine, then he began yanking on the other. Hunger melting together with anger in his features.

A chill ran down my spine as I threw one leg over the windowsill in a hurried motion, then the sound of a second clang rang out.

Terror grabbed hold of me as I threw my other leg over the sill and jumped–

Bit his hands grabbed my waist, lifting me back inside and pulling me to his chest. The warmth against my back contrasting the cool of my front, horror and excitement washed over me, anticipation leading.

One arm squeezed me as the other slid downward, then he leveled his head with mine, his nose nuzzling my temple, and lips gracing my cheekbone as he spoke, 'How about we make a new memory?' He breathed, I could hear the smile shaping his lips. The hand headed downward slipped through the slit of my dress and cupped my cunt, making a pained moan escape me.

He kissed my cheekbone and bit my earlobe, tugging on it slightly. Then put pressure on my mound with a harsh yank, pulling me even closer against him. A mix of a hiss and a whimper leave my lips as my ass tucks snuggly into his crotch, his hard member pressing up against me. His mouth slips to my neck, 'Your fault.' voice muffled by skin, 'You fix it.'

A shattered hum in agreement came from my lips as he began rubbing his hand up and down in rough movements, the warmth from the friction was enough to send pulses of heat through every nerve in my body. He walked us forward as his fingers coverd every inch of my cunt, teasing my core, digits sliding between my slits, and palm rubbing into my clit, his hand getting more and more slick by the second. As if locked in dance, our hips move together, matching rythms. I grind against his hand as he ruts his crotch against my ass, the very hard member recieving long anticipated friction.

We collpase as he slips to his knees, pulling me down with him.

Suddenly, two of his fingers slip inside of me, setting a quick thrusting pace. He sinks his teeth into my neck, biting and sucking, and a scream threaten me as the coil tightens in the pit of my stumache. His other hand move to my back and bends me over the windowsill.

I rest my forearms against the hard wood for support, and just as the blinding pleasure is about to unfold, his fingers retreat. Pulling out of me with a slick sound, I release a painful groan as my walls ache and clench around nothing. 'Fuck you.' I hiss, shutting my watering eyes tightly against the pain of his absence.

I heard movement behind me, then feel his hands pull my dress straps down, making my dress fall to the floor. His touch leaves me again, then I hear a zipper, Thats right.' He said, pulling my panties to the side, 'Fuck me.' And he rams his member into me. All air expells out of my body, my breath lost somewhere to the cool summer night. My fingers curl around the sill, gripling it tightly as the stinging, filling sensation settles in my bones.

He hums and leans over my back as he gathers my hair in one hand, and his mouth levels with my ear, 'You wont be walking out of here with those papers doll, In fact, I doubt you'll be walking at all.' He chuckles, and lays his cheek against mine, looking out through the window. 'So tell those men of yours that they'll have to carry you once the show is over.' And nods toward the edge of his property before leaning back.

I follow his gaze, and a slight movement catches my eye.

The back-up. . . No doubt watching the scene unfold.

But before I got to much time to ponder, his left hand grabbed my right hip, and his other hand gathered a fistful of my hair.

Then, he pulls. Yanking me upward so that my arms stretch, and my hands support me against the sill instead. My entire, naked body on full display to the outside. Asshole.

He begins thrusting, gruesome, hard thrusts. The hand fisting my hair let's go, and circles around my torso instead, folding over my chest, and grabbing the breast furthest away to knead and squeeze. Covering me up in the process.

Apparently, he didnt want them to see it all. Some was just for him.

He rests his forehead against my shoulder, planting sweet, soft kisses against the blade of it, 'Sorry.' He whispers, all the while his thrusts rock my body into oblivion. 'Needed to teach them a lesson.' He says between panting.

The coil began tightening once again, and I smile. Feeling this good, I honestly couldnt care less. Even so, my team had seen me naked before. We shower together, share rooms even, and they know im in it to win it. My only wish was that they'd have the decency to look away, but knowing they're men, It'd be too high a wish.

Nothing could be heard but the muffled music, slapping skin, laboring vocal cords, and the nature at night. Bird song and nocturnal insects filled the calm night, ever so rudely disturbed by our moaning, and– static?

Oh. . .

'Agent, I repeat– "Do you need extraction?"' The voice was uncertain, uncomfortable even.

Fuck, it must've clicked on when he yanked me by the hair. Embaressment filled me, they'd heard much more than they should've. But even so, irritation took the lead. Annoyed that they were interrupting me, I rolled my eyes, 'I'm fine, I'll be right there.' I stuttered out, doing my best to hide my moans. The slapping however, could not be hindered. I reached for my earpiece, the stuttering of his hips against my body gave me great difficulty. But managed to grab it despite being violently rocked back and forth, and threw it far into the gardens.

'Finally alone?' He breathed against me, warming my shoulder, temporarily keeping the goosebumps at bay.

'Define alone.' I scoffed, biting back a whimper. The pressure in me building to a climax, the sounds of nature and our loving dulled. Replaced by a ringing as my vision grows spotty and a faint feeling comes over me. 'Close, so– So, close.' I manage, my words stumbling out of me. He hums, moaning in my ear as his thrusts frenzies. The hand kneading my breast moves upward, grabbing my throat, squeezing lightly as we tumble into our orgasm. Collapsing onto the windowsill.

'Fuck. . .' He breathes, pulling out off me with a wet plop. His seed seaping out off my entrance now that nothing stood in its way. He rolled off of me and leaned against the sill, elbow supporting him as he observed me intently.

I pull my dress back on, then cross my arms on the sill, resting my chin upon them, 'What now?'

'You'll see me again.'

I huff, 'Yeah? How?'

He shrugs, 'Tell them we have a deal, or that I think were involved. Tell them your cover wasn't broken.'

'Think that'd work?' I ask, unconvinced. However, wishing desperately it would.

'It might, if it doesn't. You come right back here and start over with me. I'll protect you.'

I nod, 'Go to bed, so I at least can pretend to slip out.' And smile, believing him.

Not protesting, he kisses my cheek. 'Good night.' He whisperes.

I stay for a few more minutes, then grab my heels and jump out of the window. Closing it behind me. Silently, in the bright blue night, I walk barefoot in dew covered grass.

Eventually met by familiar voices, 'Not a word I say.' Interrupting them before they can comment, 'He thinks I want him.' I raise my brows and chuckle, the team snickers.

'Sure sounded like it.' One of them jokes, and they all abrupt into laughter.

I roll my eyes, 'Ha, ha. Very funny. Dont pretend you werent watching us half hard, palming yourself.' I bite back. Causing "oooohs" to abrupt, and the guy going pale.

At least they seem to believe it.

I gift myself a hopeful smile, I'll be seeing him again. One way or another.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky #bucky smut #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #mob!bucky #mob!bucky smut #bucky imagine #bucky fanfiction

759 notes · View notes

rippleclan · 3 months

Text

RippleClan: Moon 18

Both RippleClan and AshClan tire of the war, wishing for it to end.

[Image ID: Rabbitjoy and Weedfoot sit to the right and face Eelgrowl and Shellstripe, a golden tabby. Eelgrowl says “I don’t expect you to understand, but Autumnstar and I are doing what we think is right.”]

“I don’t like this, Rabbitjoy,” Weedfoot muttered as Rabbitjoy led her toward the AshClan border. Since the Gathering had only occurred the day before, the moon was almost full and shone through thin clouds high above. Longest Night was still half a moon off, but lately, whenever Weedfoot left camp, the sun was gone or on its way out. There had yet to be any snowfall, leaving the duo to avoid twigs and leaves as they got closer to the deeper stretches of forest.

“I’m not happy about it either, Weedy,” Rabbitjoy admitted, glancing over her shoulder. “I wanted to spend my Gathering with my family in WheatClan, not hashing out secret meetings with AshClan mediators.”

“I wouldn’t put it past them to trick me into their claws,” Weedfoot sighed. “I don’t know why else they would ask me to come with you.”

“I’m trying to have an open mind,” Rabbitjoy gulped. “A new name means a new mindset and all that.” Rabbitjoy nearly crossed the freshly marked border before she caught herself and stepped back. The AshClan border was back to its old spot from moons prior, but the scent of both Clans was thicker than ever before. There was already two cats waiting for them on the other side. Shellstripe, a wirey golden mediator with a white-dipped face, stood with shifting paws beside a scratched tree. An oh-so-familiar tom with burnt paws stood tall beside him.

“Rabbitjoy, get back,” Weedfoot growled. She stood in front of her long-lost friend and stared at Eelgrowl with all the burning hate she wished she could show at Gatherings.

“Why would I ask for you if all I wanted to do was hurt you?” Eelgrowl huffed.

“Why would you want to talk to me at all?” Weedfoot snapped.

“He wasn’t trying to kill Paleshade, Weedfoot,” Shellstripe stammered, inching close to the border. “He didn’t mean for her to die. We couldn’t disobey Autumnstar.” Rabbitjoy’s tail slunk between her legs.

“We aren’t here to talk about that, Shellstripe,” Eelgrowl sighed, resting his tail on Shellstripe’s back. “Weedfoot doesn’t want to hear it, anyway.”

“Is Autumnstar waiting behind the bushes?” Weedfoot scoffed, peering through the shadows.

“He doesn’t know we’re meeting,” Eelgrowl explained. “He wouldn’t approve of it.”

“But you’ve always been loyal to him,” Rabbitjoy said, peering around Weedfoot. “You were loyal enough to let your Clanmates die. What changed?”

“StarClan did,” Eelgrowl sighed. He sat across from Weedfoot, his narrow face turned to the clouded sky. “I don’t expect you to understand, but Autumnstar and I are doing what we think is right. Autumnstar may not believe the other clerics, but I do. They wouldn’t all lie to us. StarClan has accepted you. Now that your leader’s had the bright idea to declare war, Autumnstar sees RippleClan as a bunch of rogues. He’s taken to calling Downstar by her old name. I won’t see him be damned by the stars for trying to honor them.” There was a weight to Eelgrowl’s tone that reminded Weedfoot of her younger days, when Eelgrowl had nursery duty, when he let the smallest kits play with his pink paws as he explained how dangerous fire could be. Weedfoot stayed half-pressed into Rabbitjoy but pulled her tail over her paws.

“What do you want, then?” Weedfoot said.

“Autumnstar backed down before thanks to pressure from the other Clans,” Eelgrowl explained. “It’s why he didn’t want you to have unfettered access to SlugClan and LynxClan. If you can speak to Gougestar, he could convince Autumnstar to give you the respect you’re owed. Sanderlingstar and Mistlestar want nothing to do with this, but Gorgestar is close to Downstar, isn’t he? He might help.”

Weedfoot wouldn’t say it aloud, but it was a solid plan. But who would deliver the message, and when? How? WheatClan didn’t want to face AshClan’s wrath by letting RippleClan stroll through their land. If Autumnstar saw them as rogues, what would he do if he saw one of their ranks sneaking toward SlugClan?

“Autumnstar would be furious if he knew you said this,” Weedfoot said softly.

“I’m hoping, when this is over, that I can truly talk to Autumnstar about the future,” Eelgrowl sighed. “I can’t do that until he’s willing to listen. Take my advice or don’t. It’s your pelts that’ll get torn up.” Eelgrowl nudged Shellstripe and the pair turned back home. Rabbitjoy fidgeted as they crossed through the bushes. She licked her lips, pulling into herself.

“Thank you!” she suddenly called just as the tip of Shellstripe’s tail slithered out of sight. She squirmed as though she ate a worm.

“What do you think, Rabbit?” Weedfoot sighed, still watching the bushes. “Should we bring this up with Downstar?”

“If it’ll make Autumnstar listen?” Rabbitjoy gulped. She straightened out, took a deep breath, and said, “We have to.”

(Weedfoot: 66, female, deputy, charismatic, very clever, formidable fighter)

(Rabbitjoy: 54, female, artisan, charismatic, master weaver)

Locustpaw tells Burdockcreek to count on them.

[Image ID: Locustpaw faces Burdockcreek. Locustpaw says, ““Hey, have I let you down before? I can handle this.” Burdockcreek replies, “I can’t let you take all the credit.” Under him, it says LEVEL UP! CONFIDENT -> COMPETITIVE.]

---

“No,” Rustshade snapped from the depths of Downstar’s den. “We aren’t sending anyone out there, especially not alone!”

“They’re less likely to get caught if they go alone,” Downstar sighed. Locustpaw could hear Downstar sag as she said that from their spot between the Shiprock and the shipwreck itself. Most of RippleClan was still getting out of their nests, but Locustpaw got up early, ready for Weedfoot to give them a new task. Yet when they got up, Weedfoot was in Downstar’s den. According to Scrubmask, who had been on guard duty, she had been there since she got back earlier that night. Why wouldn’t Locustpaw listen in? With AshClan on their tails, everything that went on in Downstar’s den was sure to be important. They had to preserve it for future generations. Yes, that was it.

“But if they are caught, they’ll be at AshClan’s mercy!” Rustshade groaned. “Send Scrubmask! She’s faster.”

“And bigger,” Weedfoot huffed. “Rustshade, I’m sorry, but this isn’t a discussion. We brought you in here because we thought you deserved to know first.”

“Why them?” Rustshade moaned.

“Locustpaw, why are you back there?” Locustpaw peeked around the Shiprock. Burdockcreek stared back at them in plain view of Downstar’s den.

“They’re planning something,” Locustpaw whispered, cocking their ears toward the den. “I think it’s a mission through AshClan territory!” Burdockcreek leaned closer, but his pupils suddenly narrowed.

“They’re coming out!” Burdockcreek hissed, scampering back. Locustpaw backed out of the hidey-hole, emerging on the other side of the Shiprock. A moment later, Weedfoot wandered past, focused on the apprentice’s den. She saw Locustpaw in the corner of her eye and stopped.

“Locustpaw, just who I was looking for,” Weedfoot sighed as Downstar and Rustshade appeared beside her. “We have something important to ask of you.”

“I’ll do it, whatever it is,” Locustpaw chirped as Burdockcreek listened in.

“We need someone to visit SlugClan,” Downstar explained, getting closer and locking eyes with Locustpaw. “You need to speak to Gorgestar and convince him to pressure Autumnstar into submitting to our demands.”

“It won’t be easy,” Weedfoot added. “AshClan will attack you if they see you. You’re lithe, and smaller than your littermates. We think you have the best chance of getting in and out.”

“Not that I’m not willing,” Locustpaw groaned, “because I am, but why not have Fennelspot pass on the news at the cleric’s meeting?”

“We need an immediate response,” Downstar huffed. “Newtstream attends those meetings, as well. He’ll overhear the news and report back to Autumnstar. He’s more loyal to Autumnstar than StarClan’s wishes.”

“No heroics,” Rustshade grunted, nudging Downstar aside. “This isn’t a battle patrol. You’re just to speak to Gorgestar.”

“I understand, Dad,” Locustpaw said, nodding. “I can go right now. They won’t see me.”

“Wait until sunhigh,” Weedfoot said. “I’ll have Graypaw start the oven and cook some prey. You’ll do better with food in your belly.” She groomed Locustpaw’s neck and added, “I believe in you, Locustpaw.” She touched Locustpaw’s nose and headed for the apprentice’s den. Downstar entered the medicine den and left Rustshade to stare at his child. Locustpaw wasn’t sure what to say, but thankfully, Rustshade broke away for the warrior’s den. Now it was just Locustpaw and Burdockcreek.

“I wish I was going,” Burdockcreek grumbled, sitting beside Locustpaw. “I’m the historian here. Why send an apprentice?”

“I won’t be an apprentice after this,” Locustpaw laughed, kicking their brother. Burdockcreek chuckled, but there was a strain in his face that made Locustpaw pause. They nudged Burdockcreek and added, “Hey, have I let you down before? I can handle this.”

“I can’t let you take all the credit,” Burdockcreek sighed, partially chuckling. “I might have to tell future generations I came along.”

“And I can tell them that you’re a big fat liar,” Locustpaw said, sticking out their tongue.

(Rustshade: 62, male, codekeeper, sneaky, learner of lore)

(Downstar: 77, female, leader, adventurous, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Locustpaw: 12, nonbinary (they/them), historian apprentice, moss-ball hunter)

(Weedfoot: 66, female, deputy, charismatic, very clever, formidable fighter)

(Burdockcreek: 12, male, historian, competitive, learner of lore)

Locustpaw sacrificed themself by taking on the role of a messenger, delivering important information that could save the clan. They were killed while investigating enemy territory.

[Image ID: Locustpaw faces Autumnstar down. Locustpaw growls, “Heh… hope you’re proud of yourself. I’m coming back to haunt you.” To which Autumnstar huffs, “I’d love to see it, rogue.”]

---

Fennelspot remembered Rustshade telling him how sturdy Rabbitjoy’s baskets were, but now that he got to carry his collection of juniper berries back to camp in one of the most well-woven baskets he’d ever held, he knew he’d have to thank the long-lost artisan for her hard work. He could hold it in his jaws and let it bounce on his chest without chafing or scratching. It was wonderful! The sweet smell of the juniper berries carried him through the trees and lifted his heart for the last stretch back to camp. The ground wasn’t cold enough for the new snowfall to stick quite yet, but Fennelspot was certain the territories would be pure white when he woke up the next morning.

“How are we supposed to bury you?” someone whined. Fennelspot pricked his ears. Was that Oilstripe? He carefully set his basket down. Snowflakes landed on the juniper berries and the tips of Fennelspot’s whiskers.

“No, because how else will Dad know you’re dead?” Oilstripe yowled. Fennelspot stalked toward his Clanmate, his basket forgotten. He hopped over the remnants of a dead fern and clung to the side of a pine. Oilstripe was a few tail-lengths ahead of the cleric, staring into the trees. The fur along her back arched and her droopy tail thrashed about.

“You’re supposed to be back any moment now,” Oilstripe growled. “What am I supposed to tell everyone?” Her tone was not that of malice, but of fear and a deep insecurity, the sort of voice Fennelspot all-too-often heard in his head. He realized she wasn’t staring into the trees, but rather to an empty spot just in front of her.

“Downstar thinks I’m crazy,” Oilstripe whined, her whole body sagging. “Everyone’s seen me talking to myself. Fennelspot won’t believe me. He’ll say I’ve lost my mind, that I’m seeing things. So tell me how I’m supposed to tell them about you, Locustpaw!” A gasp escaped Fennelspot’s mouth before he could stop himself. Oilstripe’s head whipped around. The fear plastered over her eyes made Fennelspot tremble. It only lasted a moment, as she turned back to the empty space with curled lips and a voice that commanded more pity than fear.

“Show him you’re here!” Oilstripe begged. “We both heard the stories, you can do that! Please! I need to know I’m not crazy!” Fennelspot slowly approached Oilstripe like a hunter would approach a skittish rabbit.

“Oilstripe…” Fennelspot gulped.

“But you do have something to tell him!” Oilstripe cried. “You have to tell him you died! Dad can’t wait for the half-moon meeting! He needs to know, and I can’t tell him!” She stomped her paws like an angry kit.

“Oilstripe, do you see Locustpaw standing next to you?” Fennelspot asked softly. “Can you look at me?” Oilstripe growled and squeezed her eyes tight.

“I can’t carry two conversations at once!” she snapped.

Before she finished speaking, Fennelspot’s ears began to ring. He rubbed his ears to clear the tinnitus, but the sound grew louder. It didn’t sound like typical tinnitus. In fact, Oilstripe seemed bothered too; she rubbed her ears just like Fennelspot did. The sound grew louder and developed new layers. It wasn’t just a humming noise. It was a fast, high-pitched chirping sound. It was thousands of those sounds, thumping and vibrating together. It was a chorus of a thousand—

“Locusts,” Fennelspot gasped.

“I guess she wasn’t crazy after all,” a disembodied voice whispered, the sound mixed with the chirping of the unseen locusts. With that, the sound faded as quickly as it arrived. Oilstripe was out of breath, glancing between Fennelspot and the empty space he no longer believed was actually empty.

“You heard that?” Oilstripe asked. “Please say you did.”

“You can speak to StarClan?” Fennelspot whispered. He sat before he realized he needed to and stared at where he could only assume Locustpaw’s spirit lingered.

[Image ID: Fennelspot and Oilstripe face each other. Fennelspot says “You aren’t a cleric. How can you see StarClan wherever they wander, while I barely see them over the course of the year?”]

“I see them when they visit, even if they don’t want me to,” Oilstripe gulped. She slowly approached Fennelspot and sat across from him. “I’ve seen them since Twinekit died.”

“You aren’t a cleric,” Fennelspot stammered, suddenly conscious of how his posture slumped and his claws plucked at the dead grass. “How can you see StarClan wherever they wander, while I barely see them over the course of the year?”

“I didn’t ask to see them,” Oilstripe huffed, “it just happened. Why do you think I asked you to teach me how StarClan works?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Fennelspot whined.

“Would you have believed me?” Oilstripe snapped with a thrash of her tail. “I tried telling Downstar that Duskkit was sorry for being troublesome in life, but she got mad at me. I didn’t want to repeat that. I don’t want to be a cleric. I would hate mixing medicine all day.”

“You don’t have to be a cleric,” Fennelspot insisted. He suddenly remembered just why he grew so startled in the first place and he held his breath. “You were talking to Locustpaw. Does that mean…”

“Autumnstar’s patrol found them,” Oilstripe muttered, staring at the space beside the two ginger cats. “They spoke to Gorgestar and were coming home. Their body is somewhere in AshClan territory.” Fennelspot held his emotions close as he prayed to see whatever Oilstripe could see. He stared at where he thought Locustpaw stood, trying to sense the apprentice beside him.

“I can help you tell the Clan about your abilities, Oilstripe,” Fennelspot suggested. “You can tell your father about Locustpaw.”

“I ruined it last time,” Oilstripe said, violently shaking her head. “I’m no conduit. I don’t share messages. Can’t you say you had a vision, Fennelspot?”

“I don’t receive many visions,” Fennelspot groaned, the fur on the back of his neck itching.

“They won’t argue with you,” Oilstripe said. “They’ll be worried when Locustpaw doesn’t come back tonight. Why make them hope for something that won’t happen?” Fennelspot shrunk into himself.

“I need to collect my juniper berries,” Fennelspot muttered. “If we can’t get Locustpaw’s body, we still have to host a vigil. I’ll figure out the right words to say. Come with me.” Fennelspot climbed back toward his hiding place.

“Fennelspot?” Oilstripe called softly. Fennelspot turned back. Oilstripe nodded to the empty spot beside her and said, “They said thank you.”

(Fennelspot: 75, male, cleric, insecure, valuable insight, incredible runner)

(Oilstripe: 22, female, historian, charismatic, ghost sight)

In order to honor the dead cat, Fennelspot and Downstar give them their historian name in StarClan; Locustseeker.

[Image ID: Locustseeker stands as a StarClan cat. Under them, it says LEVEL UP! LOCUSTPAW -> LOCUSTSEEKER.]

(Locustseeker: 12, nonbinary (they/them), historian apprentice, troublesome, moss-ball hunter)

Downstar gives Clampaw her full name of Clammask, honoring her as a caretaker of RippleClan.

[Image ID: Clammask stands in the middle of the screen. Under her, it reads LEVEL UP! CLAMPAW -> CLAMMASK, LONESOME -> RIGHTEOUS, INTERESTED IN CLAN HISTORY -> LORE KEEPER, + NEW TRAIT: GOOD TEACHER.]

(Clammask: 12, female, caretaker, righteous, lore keeper, good teacher)

Carnationspeckle, Shadowpaw, and Parsley all have whitecough.

[Image ID: Carnationspeckle, Shadowpaw, and Parsley stand in a row. Under each, it says + CONDITION: WHITECOUGH. Under Shadowpaw, it also reads - CONDITION: SORE.]

(Carnationspeckle: 20, female, caretaker, compassionate, talented swimmer)

(Shadowpaw: 10, male, codekeeper apprentice, adventurous, confident with words)

(Parsley: 112, female, warrior, righteous, good speaker)

Parsley finds the way Rabbitjoy acts increasingly uncomfortable.

[Image ID: Applepelt and Parsley watch Rabbitjoy from the side as Rabbitjoy says “We’re fine! We’re all going to be fine!” Applepelt says, “I don’t think she’s fine…” Under Applepelt, it says - CONDITION: CAT BITE.]

(Parsley: 112, female, warrior, righteous, good speaker)

(Applepelt: 27, she/they, historian, rebellious, lore keeper)

(Rabbitjoy: 54, female, artisan, charismatic, master weaver)

28 notes · View notes

poppyseed1031 · 10 months

Text

Consume me - Part 6

Ao'nung x OC both Aged up to 23-24, Multiple part series, ONGOING

Slow burn,fluff, insecurities,slight angst, jealousy,mentions of smut

A month or so has passed and things are going better then I could have ever hoped or imagined, I caught up with the Sully's, spending as much time with them as I can. I've gotten used to the way of life here, the differences are vast and it was one of the hardest things I've had to do, but I did it. I've started my Tsahik training and it's going very well, Ao'nung's mother and I, Ronal, get on great. I won't lie, she frightened me quite a bit when we first met, the way her steely gaze scrutinized me, her harsh tone and lack of room for any kind of mistake. But after awhile I got past the wall and she became very welcoming, approving of my mating with her son and enjoying my company. The feeling of now having 2 mother figures present in my life warmed me deeply, and I thank eywa every day for bringing me here.

Ao'nung and I are going very well, we are basically attached at the hip, only apart when absolutely necessary. His very presence made my heart race, his touch something I yearn for the second it leaves me. And I know deep in my soul he is who I was meant to be with, arranged or not, He is who Eywa made for me. But even then, theres these feelings that linger in my heart. Insecurities I can't shake. We haven't said the words yet, they bubble in my chest and up my throat so often it feels like they are choking me, but every time I feel he is going to say it, something entirely different comes out of his mouth. We haven't fully mated, despite my efforts, he just keeps saying he has a special plan and I must wait. I fear he does not want me the same way, or feel the way I feel for him.

I don't miss the looks I get from some of the women in the clan, don't miss the snickers and little groups of gossip that stop when I get close enough to hear. The dirty looks, the looks of pity, like I'm a fool for believing this is real. And I miss the forest. Oh how I miss the forest. The homesickness swirls in me and consumes my every thought, my every feeling. I try to push it down, try to push everything down and paste a smile on my face so I don't cause any problems. But eventually, everything bubbles over.

"How has your day been so far, little one?" Ao'nung asked, walking into our Mauri and pressing a kiss to the top of my head. I looked up from my weaving with a small smile, "It's been alright. I'm surprised you are home already Ao." I reached out and twined our hands together, using him to pull me to my feet. His arms looped around my waist and pulled me against him. "I'm not home for the night yet, i just wanted to see you. I missed your beautiful face." He nuzzled his head into the crook of my neck while speaking, taking a deep inhale. "Eywa you always smell so good. I want to taste you so badly." I blushed as he began nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin, unable to help the little moans that escaped. "You can do more than taste me." I mumbled out, running my fingers down his back. "Tanhi, we've talked about this." He groans and pulls away to stand up straight. Anger swirled, my heart clenching at the rejection. "Fine. I will see you later." I huffed, annoyed, and headed out of the mauri. "Aella!" I hear him call after me, choosing to ignore it as I weaved deeper into the village. I had no where to go, nothing to do, I had planned on spending the day finishing up the Ometikaya blanket I was weaving for Ao'nung, so I walked to the Ilu pen. They were such sweet, happy creatures and always made me feel better. I was beginning to feel bad about the way I acted, if he isn't ready, who am I to push? When a few voices saying my name made my ears perk, usually I ignore the gossip I know is about me I hear it buzzing all the time, and its to be expected I suppose, but my curiosity finally got the better of me and I turned my head slightly, peering into the conversation to my left.

"That new forest women is ridiculous, thinking he will be faithful. She follows him around like a love sick puppy." Lovesick puppy? "I know, He has gone through half the clan, he will always be a bachelor at heart. I even heard Swayel saying she and him were together a few nights ago while the girl was at the Sully's Mauri for dinner." My stomach twisted and my heart sank, but I willed myself to stay rooted to where I was. "She should just go back to the forest, none of us want her here. A freak as our tsahik? Ridiculous. Imagine the nasty children he would be forced to have with her." A snicker followed, "Oh we don't have to worry about that, they haven't even mated yet. He would never touch the likes of her, He's just following his orders, like he always has, Remember he said himself. They are ALL freaks." Full blown laughter tailed that statement and I couldn't listen anymore, the tears brimming my eyes spilled over as I turned and ran back to my mauri, tail tucked between my legs.

When I made it to the Mauri my vision was completely blurred by tears, my breathing ragged, and my hands trembling as I began to shove all of my things into my leather bag from home. I heard the flap open behind me not long after, "Baby? You here? Someone said they saw you running here and that you looked ups- hey! Whoa what are you doing?" He was behind me in no time at all, one hand gripping my shoulder and the other reaching for my bag. "I'm leaving, let go of me!" I tried to shake him off, it was no use, his grip tightened and he spun me around to face him, we were so close our chests were touching, noses pressed against each other as he searched my face with confused eyes,"What the hell is going on? Leaving? To where? You don't want to share a Mauri anymore? Why are you crying?" He tried to wipe my cheeks with his thumb and I swatted his hand away, A look of hurt settled onto his face as his brow bone furrowed. "I'm not moving to another Mauri. I'm going back to the forest." I tried to make my voice level, make it sound strong, but the words came out wobbily and broken. How could I have actually let myself fall in love like this? Panic replaced the look of hurt covering his features and his grip tightened again, his fingers digging into my skin roughly. "The forest? No, you can't just leave! What the hell is going on?!" He huffed out, his chest was rising and falling rapidly and he was breathing out in hard little pants that fanned over my face. "Where were you when I had dinner with my family the other night, Ao'nung?" I asked, trying to keep my voice calm and steady and ignore the hurt, anger and betrayal swirling in my chest. "I was with my father, I told you that." He sounded even more confused now and it made the anger bubble in my chest, "That's not what I heard. Swayel is saying you both had quite a good time together." I spit, unable to stop the venom lacing my words. Ao'nung abruptly let go of me, stepping back like I had physically hit him, he gasped at me, mouth open and brow bone furrowed. "WHAT?" He scoffed raking a hand through his hair. Tears filled my eyes again, quickly spilling over as sadness overtook all other emotions, snuffing out the anger like a candle. "I know...I know this was-is just another duty to you. Another way to serve your clan and follow orders to be a great leader, and you will be, I believe that with everything I am. But I am stupid, and I let myself... I-I can't, I don't," I wiped my eyes aggressively and took a shaky breath "Goodbye, Ao'nung." He caught my wrist as I walked past, gripping tightly as I tried to tug away from his hold. "You let yourself what, Aella?" His voice was shaky too, an emotion I couldn't place coating all his features as he took a big step to me again. I shook my head, avoiding his eyes and tugging my arm again, "Please, let go of me. I want to go home." I whimpered, body sagging and trembling. "Aella, I did NOT sleep with her, or anyone." He stated in a firm voice, "You said yourself you enjoyed many women. Why should I expect you to stop because of an union you had no choice in." I felt a hand on my cheek, lifting up my face to force eye contact, "I may not have had a choice when I was told about this, but that doesn't matter. When I told you Eywa brought you to me, I meant it. I choose you Aella. I want you, just you." He sounded so sincere, but the gossip was ringing in my head, making my ears buzz and eyes water again, one word in particular sticking out. "How could you ever want a freak?" I hissed and his face fell. I managed to get myself out of his grip and went back to a few of the shelves Ao'nung had built for me to decorate the space, grabbing my things and continuing to shove them into my satchel bag. I could feel him behind me as I packed, silence surrounding us in an uncomfortable, painful tension. My chest squeezed, heart pounding so loudly and so hard I'm sure he could hear it.

As I finished and straightened up, willing my own tears to subside, I heard a sniffle behind me. I whipped around, He was standing in the corner, watching me, with glassy eyes and a few tears dripping down his cheek. The sight dumbfounded me, He's crying? My heart ached to go to him, wrap my arms around him. "Why are you crying? They will just choose you another women Ao'nung." I sniffled, hiking the strap to my bag over my shoulder. "I don't want another woman Aella! I want you." He scoffed with a shake of his head. "I, Ao'nung I-" "I'll come with you." He interrupted. My head whipped up, my eyes wide and mouth dropping open. "What?" I could not believe what I just heard, "I'll come with you, to the forest. I can learn your ways like you learned mine." He walked to me again, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me flush to him. "You can't do that, you're the next clan leader. And why would you even want to? Everything you want and love is here." Before I even finished talking he was shaking his head, "No. I do not care." He grabbed the sides of my face with both hands and titled my head up again so he was looking intently into my eyes. I prayed to Eywa he couldn't hear or feel my heartbeat, it felt like it was going to beat right out of my chest, anxiety was gripping every nerve in my body causing me to tremble.

"Aella.." He breathed, rubbing his nose against mine softy. My breath hitched in my throat, "I love you. I want you. I see you." He murmured, then leaned down and sealed my lips with his. He swallowed the whimper that left me and slid his hands down to my hips, gripping my harshly and pulling me impossibly closer. "You are not a duty to me, where you go, I go. If you want to go back to the forest, then we'll go. I know how badly you miss it, and I want you to be happy." He pulled away to speak, lips still brushing mine, not daring to put more space between us. A lump formed in my throat and I tried to swallow, "Ao'nung, You are to be the next chief, shouldn't you be with someone worthy of you and that position?" I whispered. He growled and kissed me again, "I'm the one not worthy here. You are everything. You will be the greatest Tsahik this clan has ever seen." He said in between kisses.

#atwow #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar fluff #ao'nung #ao'nung fanfiction #ao'nung fic #ao'nung smut #ao'nung x fem!reader

14 notes · View notes

terror-slut · 2 years

Text

Change of Heart

Chapter 07/?? Click HERE for this fics masterlist!

Reader is a troubled pediatrician at Hawkins lab when she crosses paths with this lovely orderly. Nothing will stand between Peter and his revenge. Not even really pretty distractions.

Pairing: Peter Ballard x f!reader

Word count: 2149

Ratings & warnings: SPOILERS, period typical sexism, violence, blood, torture, NSFW, swearing, no (Y/N), no described defining features for reader. Ratings may change as chapters are being added.

A/N: and when I felt like I was an old cardigan… you put me on and said I was your favourite.

Strolls in 1,5 month late, who’s surprised… Not that it’s an excuse but I got a promotion at work, got covid and Sumeru came out so I was a little distracted 😭 dottore anyone???

Careful knocks rap against the white door of Dr. Brenner’s office. Without bothering to look up from the pile of paperwork in front of him, he gives a low hum that grants the unseen person behind the door permission to enter. With a soft click, the door opens.

“You wanted to see me, Martin?”

“Yes, Doctor. Come on in,” he says, re-capping the fountain pen that delicately rests between his fingers before he lazily gestures to an empty chair across from him.

The pediatrician sends her superior a tight lipped smile as she takes her seat. Dark circles have appeared underneath her eyes again, just like they had a few weeks prior. Dr. Brenner decides against commenting on her exhausted appearance, figuring there is nothing to be gained by doing so. If she wishes to share her troubles, he knows she will do so out of her own volition.

“So,” he begins. “How are the children?”

The question that leaves his lips is not the question she anticipated he’d ask, and her tense shoulders slightly lower, in sync with her guard. What she had expected instead were questions about Henry, perhaps followed by a scolding on her inability to deliver. Instead, Dr. Brenner seems occupied with his test subjects. Thankfully, her results on that front are a far cry from the lack luster results Henry has provided her with.

“They’re quite well. 002 seems to grow stronger by the day and little 011 is making great progress in regards to opening up and accepting her powers,” the pediatrician eagerly replies, happy to have her mind taken off of Peter for just a moment.

Dr. Brenner hums in approval, his blue eyes intently focused on her own. It takes her a lot not to squirm under the intensity of his gaze. If it wasn’t for a good dose of common sense, she’d think Brenner could read her mind.

“I think 011 could benefit from a little more one on one counseling. She seems to trust you a great deal,” the pediatrician rambles on.

“Yes, I think you’re right. Building a parent-child relationship pays off just as I expected it would,” he replies, more so speaking to himself than to her, but as she has previously read his notes on Henry, it’s not difficult to figure out that he is speaking of his trial of errors from before. Unsure of what to say next, she stays silent.

Not much at all had changed with Peter. After their initial talk where he so carelessly cut off the ties between the two of them, she hasn’t had the guts to talk to him again, afraid of the cruelty that might leave his mouth next.

His words, his lies, still echo around her mind as she mulls them over time and time again. “Don’t take it personally, doctor. I simply prefer to keep my personal life separated from my work and vice versa.”

His personal life, she thinks, and resists the urge to scoff. Such an obvious lie, yet she couldn’t call him out on it without exposing her own muddled truth, much like a biologically faulty spider trapped within its own sticky web.

Since that faithful morning where Peter claimed they were simply just co-workers and he was only being friendly with her, that friendliness has dissipated into nothingness. The pediatrician is quite certain the tall blonde is avoiding her at all costs, and speaking to her seems completely out of the question for him.

Her mood swings between annoyance and desperation. She wants his friendship back, the attentiveness he treated her with those first six months. She wants him back. But above all, the pediatrician still wants to help him. Her anger disappears like snow on a sunny day whenever she gets reminded of the boy behind the now fully grown man. Whatever his reasoning is for locking her out of his life, her determination has far from watered down.

Empathy mingled with sympathy washes over her in quiet waves when she thinks of the pictures of young Henry Dr. Brenner has shown her once, back when he still had a family, back when he was still allowed to go outside. What would he look like now if nature regularly embraced him? Hair bleached by the sun, his skin warm and tan… She can picture it perfectly, with herself by his side in the prettiest sundress, happy. Normal…

“And Peter?” The sudden deep voice startles her out of her daydreams, Brenner’s icy gaze coldly assessing her.

“W-what?” She asks brainlessly before quickly pulling herself together. “What about Peter?”

“Let me be frank,” he says, placing his folded hands on the desk between them. She knows those words can’t mean anything good. “You haven’t turned in any progress reports for weeks now.*”

The silence that follows is thick with an uncomfortable tension. She can think of a million lies to tell her boss but she ends up settling for a half truth.

“It takes some time. He’s a complicated man. I don’t want to overwhelm him,” she answers. It only takes a second for Dr. Brenner’s expression to sour, far from satisfied with her answer.

“I hired you because you promised to deliver,” he speaks, his tone soft but his words harsh.

“I know,” she agrees meekly.

“If you fail to deliver, I can no longer justify your paycheck to the board,” he says as she worries her lip between her teeth.

“I understand, Sir,” she replies, although she really wants to throw the fact that he has had years to work with Henry, and still left empty handed in his face.

His expression softens when his gaze falls on her worried face and he reaches out to put his warm hand over her own.

“I know you can do it, doctor,” he says, and gives her hand a little squeeze. “And I know it takes time, but the board wants to see results. Just hand in a report with what you’ve been doing, I’m sure they’ll lighten up.”

Dr. Brenner pulls back from her and straightens his back while he sends her a kind smile, the one she knows he uses on the kids, too. With some difficulty, she suppresses a shiver.

“I’ll start right away,” she says, standing up from her seat. “Thank you for your advice, sir.”

“You’re very welcome,” he replies, a toothy smile plastered on his face. The pediatrician can’t help but compare him to a wolf in sheep’s clothing. “Oh, and please send the next one in on your way out, Doctor.”

“Will do,” she answers absentmindedly, already drafting up the report the board so desperately wants in her head. Can they not understand that she has more to do than just Henry? That he is complicated, and she doesn’t want to rush him when she knows, they all know, he can react unpredictably.

With a scoff, she closes the door to Martin’s office behind her. Business has no place in medicine, she thinks to herself for the umpteenth time since the start of her career.

Sunken so deep in her own thoughts, she doesn’t see the white figure in front of her until she collides with the hard planes of a firm chest.

“Oh, apologies! I was just-“ words escape her when it’s Peter’s blonde hair that comes into view. He looks as disoriented as she feels when he softly grabs her shoulders to create some distance between them, while simultaneously stabilizing her.

“Just what?” He repeats, and those are the first words he’s spoken to her in weeks.

“… Just thinking,” she finishes, though the warmth of his hands on her shoulders makes it hard for her to focus on anything else. What would it be like to feel his hands elsewhere? If only they would slide past her shoulders, down her arms to her waist and grab her there, pull her closer to him… She blushes at the thought. Now is not the time, she reminds herself.

“Don’t think too hard,” he says. “You might hurt yourself.”

Though he could be making a dig at her, his soft, full lips are curled into a smile. Relieved, she lets out a laugh.

“Thanks for the warning,” she smiles. With some difficulty, he responds with a smile of his own. God, she’s so beautiful.

Though her mind feels fuzzy and her heart seems to beat out of her chest, it only takes a second of clarity for her to wonder why exactly he’s on this side of Hawkins Laboratory.

“No orderly duties for today?” She asks, her curiosity overtaking the urge to take in his beauty for as long as he’d let her.

“Oh, no,” it’s only then that he lets go of her shoulders, and the sudden lack of warmth that his hands had created makes her shiver. “Not for another hour. Dr. Brenner has requested to see me.”

The subtle shiver from earlier quickly merges into a cold chill all over her body. The pediatrician doesn’t know what to think of this newfound information, but she knows it can’t be anything good. Regardless, she sends him a kind smile.

“Oh?” She asks casually, letting curiosity win once again. “What for?”

“I suspect it’s just a performance review,” he replies, taking a step back from her to create some distance.

Stay in control, Henry.

“Well, good luck then, Peter. I’m sure there is no reason to worry,” she says with a soft smile. Her heartbeat increases when he returns hers with one of his own. Oh God, how she has missed his movie star smiles, his presence, his voice…

“I’m sure,” he repeats, and when he steps past her, his shoulder brushes softly against her own and with great difficulty, she suppresses the urge to grab his hand.

“Have a good one,” she says instead, and instantly regrets her own stupid stiffness.

For his part, Henry lets her words bounce off of the shielded walls he has put up for when she happens to be around, something he seems to have a sixth sense for. Even when she doesn’t notice him, he always sees her. It seems the more he tries to avoid her, the more she appears around him.

With a fast rap, he knocks on Brenner’s office door. The white haired man grants him permission to enter and in turn, Peter makes his way into the bleak room, shaking all thoughts of the pediatrician.

“Please, take a seat, 001,” Brenner says, but Peter shakes his head.

“I’m fine where I am,” he states, refusing to be in a position where he can’t easily get away should it come to that.

“I won’t hurt you, 001. You know me better than that,” despite his friendly demeanor, Peter has learned his lesson a long time ago. Have your guard up at all time. His kindness is a trap.

“Suit yourself,” Martin says when Peter’s silence stretches out. “I’ve requested you here to ask how you’ve been, 001.”

His muscles involuntarily tense up as a chill spreads across his back at Brenner’s unassuming question.

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” Peter replies. The fear that freezes up his entire body is nothing new to him or the little boy he once was. That same question is usually followed by physical pain that would haunt him for days to come, no matter how carefully he chooses his response.

“Oh, not to worry 001. If you had, I would have known about it long before asking you about it,” the older man says, a smile fitting for a man like him on his lips. Peter doesn’t dare exhale the breath he holds.

“No, that’s not what I’m asking you,” Dr. Brenner says, when Peter stays silent. He crosses his arms as the silence protrudes. “Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary?”

Peter briefly wonders if the white haired man means to trick him with this question. Memories of the past few weeks replay before his eyes, but he shakes his head in denial.

“Hmm,” Brenner lets out while uncrossing his arms and standing up. In a relaxed pace, he inches closer to the tall, young man standing in his office. “You ought to be more perceptive, 001. I know you have it in you.”

Their gazes connect starkly for a moment, before Brenner reluctantly takes a step away from the younger man.

“You can go,” with a ninety degree turn, he dismisses Peter, who in turn can’t seem to leave the frigid office fast enough. His heart beats wildly in his throat when he exhales several shaky breaths, Brenner’s words replaying in his head over and over.

The old man has his ways to drive Peter crazy, torture him psychologically as well as physically. He never knows what part of what Martin tells him he can believe, but Peter knows one thing.

He was alluding to the pediatrician.

A/N: I just realized the reason I hate my own writing is because it’s too academic? Also Brenner is a meddling mfer…

* this is a subtle dig at my own shitty update progress LMAOO I’m a little funny

Want to be added/removed from the taglist? Don’t be shy, let me know!

Tag List: @tirramasuu @ancientbeing10 @njutul @lauftivy @madamerebloger @kokichiis7 @immazebrah @severuslovebot @hobii-c0re @pechvogal @raineeace @peterballardsgirlfriend @shatteredflowers @thedoubleexposurephotography @dogmom2014 @daffy-ducks-hug @odd1seven @myboykillme @mm0thie @nymariel @philophxbicrxmantic @clown-princesa @leavemealone-7 @jaseena @nobody-000 @yourmomdotcom42069 @letitrainpoison @mochacake2016 @shewantsvengeance @evelynseventyr @0zhen @mermaid-trash @lu123sworld @majahu @seafrost-fangirl @whore4hellfire @aeclark04 @rayballs66

89 notes · View notes

widowshill · 5 months

Text

um idk this is just like a little. what if vic was there in 1969 and she'd been to london with roger and we weren't worried about the cult stuff yet. and such things.

Roger Collins twirled the stem of the lily between long, soft fingers, admiring the way the winter light gleamed almost white and pure as snow on the open petals. It seemed a shame to cut such a lovely thing away from life, to put it away in the elegant curves of its coffin for a few brief days of beauty before its sudden, untimely decay. But what days of beauty! He lifted the bloom to his face to take in the scent — so like the untouched sweetness of early spring and yet, unmistakably, the funeral bier. One corner of his mouth pulled into a smile, and he reached down to slip the flower among the rest of them in the vase.

“Roger?”

He flinched, and the lily slipped from his hand to lie lonely on the workbench. Roger cast an almost guilty glance over his shoulder. His constant shadow in chartreuse — the all-knowing jacquarded Hera.

“Liz! I didn’t hear you come in.”

Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed. Her brother was rarely to be found out in the greenhouse — not even when she had specifically asked him there for his help. And here he was now, the very image of his son caught in some place he should not be, shears tucked behind his back for good measure, as though she would not notice the damning angle of his elbow.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, just filling a vase … I am permitted to do that, aren’t I?”

“I wish you’d have asked me first.”

Her eye landed next on the arrangement, relieved, at least, he hadn’t taken anything too prized, or that would not regrow. Only a few Madonnas. But whatever for?

“Roger, I just put fresh flowers in your room this morning.”

“I know that."

“Where did that vase come from? It’s not one of ours.”

“Oh for God’s sake, Liz, Carolyn picked it up for me at the antique shop. I suppose I must approve every new possession of mine with you.”

The eldest Collins would never argue that her brother didn’t have impeccable taste when it came to the arts. It was beautiful –– pristine sky blue Wedgwood, no doubt an authentic Georgian piece, arrayed with some classical scene in polished white. Not something she’d have expected him to like, but then he’d surprised her before. Elizabeth's posture loosened, just slightly, her eye fixed on that vase. She'd have liked to relish his sudden interest in the plants. She would have, ordinarily. But those shears had yet to reappear from behind his back.

His sister raised her brows at him. She might as well have been saying: stay out of my room.

“If you want more flowers made up you need only ask me.”

He managed not to roll his eyes at her final disapproving glance, wondering for half a moment if she’d take the flowers from him — as she would have as a child if she’d found him stealing a toy. But she didn’t, she only reached for a half-full cup of coffee she’d evidently forgotten here that morning, and went back out into the snow, as composed as if nothing whatsoever had happened, as if ice itself had no capacity to disturb the steady heeled gait of the mistress of the house. Of course it had none: the very grounds themselves worshipped her.

Roger leaned against the bench as soon as she was out of view of the big glass panes, flooded with relief as he cradled the vase, errant stem tucked at last into safekeeping. One good thing had come out of his niece working at that infernal shop, anyway. Phillip Todd had gone all the way to Boston for it when his little niece had mentioned her uncle's interest in jasperware.

He ran a thumb over raised porcelain, and smiled. The Winged Victoria.

"Vicki Winters, what on earth has gotten into you?"

The little governess blinked at her with wide, innocent eyes that could have shirked all accusation from almost anyone else.

"What do you mean?"

"You haven't heard a word I've said for the last fifteen minutes. You're miles away."

Victoria smiled, sheepishly, and laid aside the pair of cufflinks she'd been fiddling with (to the great dismay of the counterwoman, who felt her commission draining like water through her fingers).

"No, I haven't, Carolyn, I'm sorry. You'll have to tell me again."

Her apologies did not satisfy her –– not that she'd guessed they would –– and within a moment the tempest of golden hair was at her side, fully of sound and fury at the greatest possible sin against the maiden Stoddard: inattention.

"I think you're going to tell me something. You weren't thinking of those for yourself. Who are you buying for?"

"No one. I was just admiring them."

"Uh huh." Attempts to give her interrogator the slip into the women's jewelry section proved fruitless. She'd hoped, however faintly, she'd be dazzled by some locket and forget about Miss Winters' minor infraction for a while, but no such luck. Carolyn seemed to sense the tactic, and stepped in her path before she could retreat even further to cosmetics. "Now you're a liar and a poor listener. I'm keeping score, Vicki."

"Your mother doesn't pay me that much. even if I wanted them, I could never – "

"I knew it." Smug pleasure replaced the sting of abandonment, and she grinned, convinced now that she was right. "Tell me who they're for and I'll get them for you."

"That's bribery, Carolyn Stoddard. I'm keeping score, too."

"So what if it is? Mother owes you a million dollars at least for putting up with David all this time, it'll make a small dent in our debt to you. Go on, tell me."

Miss Winters only shook her head. Her captor, resumed now in her pout, let her escape her glass-framed cage and trailed after her as she headed to the assured safety of the checkout counter.

"I'm buying the shirts she sent me to pick up for David, and that's all. That'll have to satisfy you."

"Vicki, if there is someone –"

"Carolyn."

"If there is then I'd be happy for you. I know how hard it's been after everything's that happened with you and ... well, I think it's wonderful you're thinking about it again. That's all."

Victoria was silent. She hadn't said the name, but it was there in the air anyways, in her knuckles –– tense as they withdrew her purse and the envelope within, bare now of the wedding band that had left a white mark of summer-long widowhood. A reminder burned into the skin. Carolyn softened.

"Whoever he is, he's a lucky guy."

Miss Winters turned to look at her, over the bulk of the new-wrapped box in her arms, and for only a moment it seemed as though she might say something –– but she chewed at the inside of her cheek, and thought better of it.

"You'll be the first to know if there's something to tell, alright?"

"I'll hold you to that, Miss Winters."

"I know you will."

"It's good to see you feeling so much better, David." Victoria placed a fond kiss to the top of his head, which one might say he endured rather than enjoyed, but nonetheless he no longer squirmed away. Recent months had made the both of them far too aware just how precious annoying governess kisses were in the world. "How do you like the watercolors?"

"I like 'em okay. Still getting the hang of it, I guess."

David's version of "getting the hang of it" never ceased to surprise her. He'd had the box of corner store paints for two weeks, and he was already a portraitist fit to rival Charles Delaware Tate (at least, in her professional opinion). Her student had a fine, if exploratory, way of capturing the the gleam of satin and the white powdering of lace and the soft curve of a nose that ... oh. Her brows lifted, just faintly.

"Is that me?"

"Yes. I saw it in my crystal ball."

"I didn't know you still played with that."

"It's not a toy. I looked in it."

"Alright, you looked in it." She smiled down at him, immensely grateful he couldn't hear her heart beating in her ears. He hadn't seen her in her finery on her last wedding day (either of them), though she supposed his aunt must have told him she'd worn Naomi's veil. He could have found it, playing dress up in old storage rooms, or in a portrait somewhere, any place. Not so unusual. "Did your crystal ball show you the groom, too?"

"No, just you."

"Well, it's a beautiful likeness. I might want to keep it when you're finished."

He hesitated, and frowned down at the picture before laying aside his brush in a muddied water cup.

"Are you getting married again soon, Miss Winters?"

"If I am, no one's told me about it."

"Well, the crystal ball never lies. You know that."

"I know."

He was silent for another moment, then: "Do you want to get married again?"

"Sure, sometime. But I don't know that I can anytime soon. We haven't got your geometry up where I want it just yet."

David only grinned in answer, and picked up his brush again –– focused intently now not on the face of his subject, but on some mystery deep within flawless crystal. Vicki could see nothing there, of course, she'd never been able to since Burke first gave it to him. But he'd evidently found something he'd forgotten, because he was quickly back to work adding a long strand of pearls around her neck, as clear and as detailed as if he could see them right before his face. She didn't have anything like that. She felt dizzy.

"There, now it's finished. You can have it."

"Thank you, David." She studied the necklace. It was old, very old, she was sure of that. Maybe she'd ask Mrs. Stoddard about it. "Wait –– you should sign it, all artists sign their portraits."

"Oh! You're right."

Once he'd scrawled his name, he blew on the wet corner to dry it : David, sans Collins, she noticed with a smile. Not a family that liked lending their name to the men of Bohemia. She ruffled his hair and took the finished portrait in hand.

"Who knows, in a hundred years someone might pay thousands of dollars for this picture. An authentic David Collins."

"Maybe."

Victoria made to leave the room, but took one look behind her as he was packing up the newspapers littered across his desk, shaking his ever-longer hair back into place.

"David? If your crystal ball says who I'm going to marry, you'll tell me, won't you?"

"Sure."

“Carolyn! I thought you came home hours ago, with Vicki.”

“I did. I snuck out again, you don’t think she saw me, do you?”

"Well, no, but –"

"Good." Roger's niece collapsed next to him on the sofa, close enough that he could still make out a few stubborn snowflakes in her hair. There must have been another bout of flurries after the sun went down, he hadn't noticed. "I want you to tell me what you think of these."

From fine white crocodile leather, she withdrew a small jewelry box, containing an intricate pair of cufflinks on its green velvet bed: silver, each adorned with a single pearl. Expensive, undoubtedly.

"They're very charming, kitten. Who are they for?"

"Well that's just it, I don't know."

"Oh?" He handed them back with a smile, quizzical but by now quite used to the heiress' little intrigues.

"Vicki was looking at them earlier."

"Vicki?" The smile dropped from his face as rapidly as it appeared. Thankfully, the young Miss Stoddard was much too engrossed in her own plot to notice.

"Yes. She had to have someone in mind, didn't she? I mean, she wouldn't have been admiring them on her own, would she?"

"No, I shouldn't think so.” Not unless their governess had taken a new interest in men’s jewelry he’d never known her to possess. “Admiring them, you said? Miss Winters can hardly afford something like this on her salary."

"That was her objection, too. I told her I'd buy them for her if she told me who it was."

That earned her a laugh. "Well, I hope you learned that trick from your mother and not from me."

"She said no, anyways. You know how Vicki is."

Yes, he knew. Honorable to a fault, their Miss Winters, never more so than when it came to her latest pup trailing after her. He pulled at his lower lip idly, thinking about the drape of porcelain chiton under his fingertip, the damning yellow pollen that had crept like a lipstick stain onto his shirt cuff. Roger rose from his place, and filled his half-empty glass to the brim.

Carolyn noticed that, if nothing else. But she was persistent. "Anyway, I thought I'd surprise her with them, and she'd be grateful enough to let it slip. Or at least you and I can keep our eyes peeled for any men about town with a new pair of cuff links."

"An impeccable plan. You have my full collaboration, if need be."

He downed the brandy in a swallow. His niece waited patiently, almost expectantly, at his elbow.

"Uncle Roger, it doesn't bother you that Vicki might be seeing someone, does it?"

"It certainly does. Her last romantic fiasco was hard enough on all of us, especially David. I should hate to think of him being put through that again." He filled the glass a second time, then turned to face her, his free hand resting on his hip. "You know, I'm not sure I quite trust her judgment in her choice of young men, and her secrecy does nothing to endear this one to me."

Carolyn toyed with the velvet lining of the box. Her delightful mystery she'd happened upon was quickly losing its charm. He was right, she guessed, it affected all of them –– and no one more than David –– where and when their governess placed her romantic attentions. But still ...

"You want her to be happy, don't you?"

"Of course I do."

"Well, don't be horrible to her."

"Now, kitten, does that sound like me?"

"Miss Winters, are you awake?"

"Roger! Come in." The little governess brightened despite the blizzard at her window, a vision of springtime in yellow chiffon as she rose from her desk to meet him, note still in hand that she'd plucked from the bouquet. "Roger, I never got the chance to thank you for the flowers, and the vase, they’re beautiful, it was so thoughtful of you to — ”

“You’re welcome, Miss Winters.” He did not return the smile, and hers gradually fell from her face. He could have sworn that the room itself got darker, as though she’d pulled the curtains.

“Is there something wrong?”

“Wrong? No, I suppose not.”

“I don’t understand.”

In answer, he pulled a small jewelry box from the pocket of his smoking jacket, held tidily between thumb and forefinger. She didn't need to see it opened to know precisely what was inside.

"Carolyn!" Victoria grabbed for it, but Roger held it not quite teasingly out of reach.

"Yes, my dear niece told me all about your little excursion this afternoon."

"I'm sure she knows all about it."

"Oh, don't blame Carolyn." He paced towards her –– slow, methodical, but his strides were lengthy, his legs rather longer than hers. "She meant nothing by it but curiosity, she asked my help identifying your young man."

"My young man?" Victoria smothered a smirk, but the corners of her mouth twitched relentlessly –– Roger did not find it quite so amusing.

"I think you owe me an apology, Miss Winters."

"I don't see that I do."

"You don't –– !" he scowled. "What a stupid gift for this suitor of yours, it would have cost you six months' wages at least – "

The back of her thighs hit the desk. She looked up at him, startled, but he shirked her gaze, landing instead at the contents of her desktop. Some picture of David's she'd left laying out. Oh. It was her. Looking almost just as she had on her wedding day, her face framed by Parisian lace, so radiant and –– his face drained of its color. "It seems you have something else to explain."

"David painted that this afternoon, he's been playing with the crystal ball again."

He lifted up the portrait by the corner, as if to touch it would singe him. "My son painted this? So you'll involve even David in your little schemes."

"I already told you, he saw that in his crystal ball."

"Victoria Winters, really, you surprise me."

"I wanted to keep it because I thought it was a good likeness."

"It's a wonderful likeness. Remarkable. You look just like you did when ..." his throat tightened. "If you're already thinking of marrying whoever it is, then you certainly owe me the decency of telling me. You've let me make a fool out of myself."

"I'm not thinking of marrying anyone."

"But this ––!"

"You haven't asked me!"

He went silent, lips parted as he searched her eyes –– grey like sharpened steel, now, fraught with impatience. She was so lovely, even when she was angry with him, perhaps especially then. " ... what ?"

"Well, you haven't. So I don't see how I can be planning to get married to anyone."

"Vicki." A small, cautiously hopeful smile warmed his face.

"But now I don't know that I'd want to even if you did, if you're going to accuse me of infidelity every time I browse the men's department."

"The cuff links were for...?"

"Roger Collins, I wanted to buy those for you."

"You did?"

"Yes, and now Carolyn's ruined the surprise on top of everything else."

"Then you mean, there's no –– "

"No, there's no young man."

He was pleased enough not to resent her little barb in the least, and laid aside David's artwork to take the real thing into his arms instead. The drape of her nightgown was dreamlike in his fingers, clinging to skin soft as porcelain.

"Forty-four's not too old, is it?"

She only sighed. "What am I going to get you? Secrets don't last a day in this house."

Roger chuckled at that. "Not usually." He kissed her cheek, her neck –– there, beneath her ear, where he could feel her pulse jump. Alive, always so alive in this house of ghosts, their governess. Warm as if he stood before the hearth, as though she were the greenhouse sun, or brandy in the throat. "You liked the vase?"

"I did." She relaxed, at last, in his attention. "I remembered. Nike."

"Victoria." He held her chin, and studied her. "the goddess Victoria..."

He wished they were hundreds of miles from here, arm in arm in the Duveen Gallery again, far from ghosts, from the Todd's, from Elizabeth, from Jeremiah and Isaac and Theodore. Bathed instead in the beauty of millennia-old marble. He leaned to kiss her, but in the very moment before it could connect, a boy's voice, frantic with excitement, echoed outside the door.

"Miss Winters! Miss Winters, it told me!"

Roger winced, but did not withdraw. Perhaps he'd go away. Perhaps he didn't know she was in here. Perhaps –– then the door banged open.

"The crystal ball said it's my father." David stopped in his tracks, his little jaw dropped and eyes wide –– knowing perfectly well he'd stumbled on something he wasn't meant to see. But the shock did not last long. He smirked, and darted just as quickly from the room as he'd entered it. "Aunt Elizabeth!"

That moved him from his spot. "David Collins!"

#drabble tag tba #➤ roger collins & victoria winters. ┊ pain sometimes precedes pleasure，miss winters.#i am cringe but i am free.

5 notes · View notes

blogdemocratesjr · 2 years

Photo

The Blessed Damozel by Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1878)

The blessed Damozel lean'd out From the gold bar of Heaven: Her blue grave eyes were deeper much Than a deep water, even. She had three lilies in her hand, And the stars in her hair were seven.

Her robe, ungirt from clasp to hem, No wrought flowers did adorn, But a white rose of Mary's gift On the neck meetly worn; And her hair, lying down her back, Was yellow like ripe corn.

Herseem'd she scarce had been a day One of God's choristers; The wonder was not yet quite gone From that still look of hers; Albeit, to them she left, her day Had counted as ten years.

(To one it is ten years of years: ...Yet now, here in this place, Surely she lean'd o'er me,—her hair Fell all about my face.... Nothing: the Autumn-fall of leaves. The whole year sets apace.)

It was the terrace of God's house That she was standing on,— By God built over the sheer depth In which Space is begun; So high, that looking downward thence, She scarce could see the sun.

It lies from Heaven across the flood Of ether, as a bridge. Beneath, the tides of day and night With flame and darkness ridge The void, as low as where this earth Spins like a fretful midge.

But in those tracts, with her, it was The peace of utter light And silence. For no breeze may stir Along the steady flight Of seraphim; no echo there, Beyond all depth or height.

Heard hardly, some of her new friends, Playing at holy games, Spake gentle-mouth'd, among themselves, Their virginal chaste names; And the souls, mounting up to God, Went by her like thin flames.

And still she bow'd herself, and stoop'd Into the vast waste calm; Till her bosom's pressure must have made The bar she lean'd on warm, And the lilies lay as if asleep Along her bended arm.

From the fixt lull of Heaven, she saw Time, like a pulse, shake fierce Through all the worlds. Her gaze still strove, In that steep gulf, to pierce The swarm; and then she spoke, as when The stars sang in their spheres.

'I wish that he were come to me, For he will come,' she said. 'Have I not pray'd in solemn Heaven? On earth, has he not pray'd? Are not two prayers a perfect strength? And shall I feel afraid?

'When round his head the aureole clings, And he is clothed in white, I'll take his hand, and go with him To the deep wells of light, And we will step down as to a stream And bathe there in God's sight.

'We two will stand beside that shrine, Occult, withheld, untrod, Whose lamps tremble continually With prayer sent up to God; And where each need, reveal'd, expects Its patient period.

'We two will lie i' the shadow of That living mystic tree Within whose secret growth the Dove Sometimes is felt to be, While every leaf that His plumes touch Saith His name audibly.

'And I myself will teach to him,— I myself, lying so,— The songs I sing here; which his mouth Shall pause in, hush'd and slow, Finding some knowledge at each pause, And some new thing to know.'

(Alas! to her wise simple mind These things were all but known Before: they trembled on her sense,— Her voice had caught their tone. Alas for lonely Heaven! Alas For life wrung out alone!

Alas, and though the end were reach'd?... Was thy part understood Or borne in trust? And for her sake Shall this too be found good?— May the close lips that knew not prayer Praise ever, though they would?)

'We two,' she said, 'will seek the groves Where the lady Mary is, With her five handmaidens, whose names Are five sweet symphonies:— Cecily, Gertrude, Magdalen, Margaret and Rosalys.

'Circle-wise sit they, with bound locks And bosoms covered; Into the fine cloth, white like flame, Weaving the golden thread, To fashion the birth-robes for them Who are just born, being dead.

'He shall fear, haply, and be dumb. Then I will lay my cheek To his, and tell about our love, Not once abash'd or weak: And the dear Mother will approve My pride, and let me speak.

'Herself shall bring us, hand in hand, To Him round whom all souls Kneel—the unnumber'd solemn heads Bow'd with their aureoles: And Angels, meeting us, shall sing To their citherns and citoles.

'There will I ask of Christ the Lord Thus much for him and me:— To have more blessing than on earth In nowise; but to be As then we were,—being as then At peace. Yea, verily.

'Yea, verily; when he is come We will do thus and thus: Till this my vigil seem quite strange And almost fabulous; We two will live at once, one life; And peace shall be with us.'

She gazed, and listen'd, and then said, Less sad of speech than mild,— 'All this is when he comes.' She ceased: The light thrill'd past her, fill'd With Angels, in strong level lapse. Her eyes pray'd, and she smiled.

(I saw her smile.) But soon their flight Was vague 'mid the poised spheres. And then she cast her arms along The golden barriers, And laid her face between her hands, And wept. (I heard her tears.)

by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

See also The Twelve Senses, Forces & World Views

#Dante Gabriel Rossetti #Beatrice Portinari #Florence Welch #the Christ Being #Capricorn #the Tau #anthroposophy #spiritual science

28 notes · View notes

rek1s-headband · 3 years

Note

Oh oh! Can we get some hedcanons about cherry adopting a girl who is around miya's age. Like how close would they be and how would others feel about her being his daughter now. Bonus points if uncel Joe and little missy mess with daddy blossom

Xoxo love your work so far, keep it up💙

➯ A/N: This was such an amazing request, I had so much fun writing it! Hope you enjoy :)

Also, i started watching Your Lie in April today, and its AMAZING! So much more than what I was expecting

➯ With a daughter

➯ Characters: Kaoru Sakurayashiki with a young daughter. Reki, Langa and co. are mentioned throughout!

➯ Warnings: none:)

Having a child had never crossed Kaoru’s mind before, but when Joe had teased him about how “you treat Carla better than you would a child!”, the idea kind of stuck with him. And so, he’d spent countless nights awake, wondering to himself if it was something he truly wanted?

He’d pass parks, seeing parents with spewing babies and toddlers throwing tantrums, wondering if he could actually put up with that? But as he passed the shops, he came across a mother and her daughter, who looked around 12. He watched them pass, a grin on the child’s face as she looked into her shopping bag, examining her haul for that day. And so it was settled

He wanted a baby girl he could spoil absolutely rotten

And the search for a child carried on, and this time instead of baby shops and websites, he was browsing the shelves of Claires and other tween clothing stores. It had only occurred to him over a bottle of wine with Joe, as they were discussing if Kaoru was truly ready for something like this. Instead of a crying baby or a messy toddler, he could simply adopt someone a bit older!

It made sense too. For a single parent, an older child seemed much more doable. Of course, he wouldn’t be alone. Joe was always telling him how he’d help out, yknow, if he actually went through with the damn thing.

Not to mention, the older you get, the more difficult it is to get adopted. Babies and young children will get adopted left right and centre, whereas the child he will take home will have been there for a while. Finally, they will have a place to call a home

He spent months trying to get the approval for adoption, and one fateful day he finally got the letter that yes he could go ahead and take one home. He was ecstatic, spending the next few days finding out the location of every orphanage around his area of Japan. He messaged every single one, asking when their next visiting day was

And so it was set: Kaoru would not rest until he had found his perfect little girl

He went through orphanage after orphanage, searching for someone he could call his own. However, none of the children were lighting that paternal flame inside him. It wasn’t their fault of course, they just didn’t click with him, staring at him any time he tried to talk to them. Visit after visit, he’d go to Joe’s, ready to tell him about his recent fail.

It wasn’t until Joe came up to him with a phone number, asking if he’d been to this particular orphanage yet. Apparently they had a few children aged 12 and up, and were available for visit that Saturday. And so there he was, packing a bag and getting ready to travel to the house. This time felt different, somehow. He could feel his palms sweat, as if he could sense he would take one of them home

When he finally made it to the house, he was a nervous wreck. The lady of the house let him in with a smile, telling him the children were in the backyard playing while she bounced a baby on her hip. Cherry winced as the baby gurgled at him, glad he opted for an older child

She led him outside, gesturing at the children who were sprinting around in the vast field, hiding behind trees and bushes. It was clear they were playing a game of hide and seek. He smiled as he scanned over them, but it quickly disappeared when he noticed one little girl sitting on the step, head in her lap while her shoulders gently shook with tears

He walked over to her, bending down with a soft smile. He didn’t know where this sudden calmness came from, but that was his last priority right now. A little gash sat on the girls knee, caked with blood as it trickled down her shin. He frowned, pulling out a tissue to gently wipe it. She jumped, wincing with shock from the fresh wave of pain, and surprise. Kaoru gently wiped at her knee once more before looking up at her to attempt a conversation

“Hello, is your knee alright?” She shook her head frantically, wiping a tear away from her face. A small breathy laugh escaped him as he watched the child stand, gesturing to her leg

“Nope, not at all. I think its broken, if you ask me. All cause of that stupid thing!” She threw her arm out, gesturing to a pink board Kaoru hadn’t noticed before. A skateboard.

That’s when Kaoru realised it: I want this one

Suddenly he felt a new sense of importance, like he had to make a good impression. He walked over to the board, tutting as he looked down at it. “This is what hurt you?” He looked at it with disdain as the little girl nodded her head violently. Kaoru could see how she hurt herself, the thing was massive, especially for someone her age. It looked around the size of a board he would use.

Grinning, he picked up the board. “Well, want to see something cool?” She watched in wonder as kaoru stood on it, pushing off and turning quickly, popping an ollie over a stray toy. The little girl jumped, throwing her arms up as she cheered Kaoru on. He finished with a flourish, coming back to stand beside her. “What did you think?” She was speechless, simply moving her hands, saying scattered “wows” and making various sound effects. Kaoru smiled, certain that he could teach her more.

When he realized visiting time was coming to a close, he proposed the idea to the girl, who’s name he had come to know was Lily: he’d come back next week, and he’d bring his board. He even promised to find her a smaller boar perfect for her to learn on, saying he knew a friend who could make her one. From there he would teach her the basics of skateboarding, even a couple of tricks once she got that down. She was delighted, bouncing up and down and declaring she couldn’t wait, all the energy of someone much younger than her. Kaoru found he couldn’t stop smiling himself either

He made his way back through the house, Lily skipping alongside him. He explained the plan to the Lady, that he would come back next week for another visit. Just as he was about to leave, he turned to the lady to request one final thing from her

“Make sure no one snatches her up from me while I’m gone, yeah?”

Needless to say a bottle of wine was opened at Joe’s that night in celebration of Lily, the potential daughter

And so the weeks turned into months, and Kaoru returned each week with his board and some sweets for her and the other children, teaching her everything she needed to know about skateboarding. After a month or so she could confidently ollie without bailing, and next time he visited she displayed it with delight, watching Kaoru’s face light up with pride.

She had taken a real liking to Kaoru, according to the Lady. She refused to pay any other visitors any notice, declaring they “simply weren’t Kaoru.” This is what finally made him realise that maybe it was time to ask if she’d like to live with him from now on, where she could practice with him every day.

When he asked her, Kaoru could’ve sworn he actually saw stars in her eyes. She simply lit up, throwing herself at Kaoru, tears streaming down her face as she shouted yes, of course she would. she wasn’t the only one crying, Kaoru could barely see from the tears in his own eyes, the lady dabbing at hers with a tissue

Once the paperwork was complete and Lily was his, he felt a weight had been taken off his shoulders. He had packed her a new change of clothes the day he went to collect her, bringing Joe along with him for emotional support. Lily came flying at him the second he got out of his car, wrinkling her nose at Joe

“You never told me you had a boyfriend, Kaoru” she stuck her tongue out at him from over his shoulder while they both tried to convince her that no, they weren’t a couple, before she ran upstairs to get changed. Joe turned to Kaoru, an almost offended look on his face

“Why were you so adamant that we weren’t together??” “I dont need her worrying she’s going home to a Gorrila” “HEY”

Once they all got home, they threw a little party at Joe’s who had closed a little early specially for it. Kaoru didn’t let her out of his sight, making sure she wasn’t uncomfortable with all the new people. Of course, it was only Joe, Shadow, Reki, Langa and Miya, all of whom she would meet eventually, but he still worried in case she got overwhelmed.

She made quick friends with Reki, who was ecstatic from the moment he realised she could skate. The two bonded over it, talking about tricks they’d learned, Reki shouting over at Kaoru because why hadn’t he taught him anything??

Miya was a bit standoffish at first, but when she saw the switch in his hand, the two were instantly bonding over who had better villagers in Animal Crossing, and who had passed more levels in Mario with three stars

As the months went on, Lily really settled into her new life in Okinawa, starting at school in Miyas class. The two were joined at the hip, Miya often coming home to Kaoru’s so they could practice together, or simply study and watch some movies. Reki constantly teased the shit out of the two, talking about how he heard “wedding bells”. This comment earned him a swift whack into the skull from Kaoru, warning him not to tease his little girl

Soon enough Kaoru was making her own skateboard with built-in Carla, who helped her skating improve insanely. As Kaoru said, she was definitely a chip off the old block. Langa and Reki would take her to the skate park with them, helping her land new tricks and would take videos of her to send to Kaoru

Shadow was like a chill uncle to her, bringing her flowers for her room and taking her out to get some clothes and ice cream. Joe was like an uncle too, but a much more untrustworthy one. Would he take her to the park, or would he take her to parts of downtown she definitely shouldn’t have been? Who knows, certainly not Kaoru...

Poor Kaoru can never get a minutes peace. Every second of the day she’s plotting something, waiting for him to let his guard down so she can pounce, scaring the shit out of him. When the others are around its 10x worse, all of them ganging up on him to pull pranks

As well as skateboarding, Kaoru tried to teach her how to do calligraphy. She ended up being awful, blotting the ink and smearing it with her hand. But hey, it was a fun art project that made it onto the fridge

At S, she was watched like a hawk. When Kaoru was competing,the others would be like her bodyguard, making sure no one got within 5 feet of her. She’d watch her dad with wonder, the look of awe never leaving her face since the first day she saw him skate. She can’t wait for the day she can compete, maybe even beating her own dad

The first time Lily called Kaoru “dad” was when he won a race, showing off some amazing skills and winning the insanely close match by a hair. He picked up his board, looking around for Lily. He saw her in the crowd, throwing her arms up and cheering “THATS MY DAD!! LOOK, RIGHT THERE, THATS MY DAD!” When she spotted him, a large grin spread across her face. “Nice job out there dad! You did amazing!! D’you think I can do that one day?”

Everyone was staring at her, she hadn’t even realised she had said anything out of the ordinary. Soon enough Kaoru was lunging at her, picking her up in a hug so she didn’t see the tears quickly forming on his face. With a smile he pulled away, his voice dripping with pride

“Of course you could. You’re my daughter, aren’t you?”

1K notes · View notes

look-at-the-soul · 2 years

Text

The Photoshoot (Part 8)

Cillian Murphy x OC

Previous parts here

A/N: S2E6 is filmed in the end. Credits for the photographs: Rich Gilligan for Cara Magazine (2014)

✨Am I the only one that thinks the shoes look so worn out and are his?

💎 I don’t have anything planned yet for the date mentioned later, so if you fancy some recommendations, I’m open to hear them.

Notes: I had to edit a wedding ring off a picture, you are welcome 😜

As the doorbell rang, Cillian’s lips stopped kissing Yael.

“Are you expecting someone?” He just came out of the shower a few minutes ago and his skin smelled delicious, she was about to unwrap the towel around his waist, but they were interrupted.

“No.”

Again, the doorbell rang and then her cellphone.

Groaning, he let her go.

“I’m going to rip off the head of whoever is behind the door.” He mumbled.

“Yeah, you can come up, just give me two minutes.” He heard she said. “You need to hurry, it’s Vassilis.”

“Shit.”

While she made the bed and picked up their clothes from the floor, Cillian got dressed, they both moved around so fast.

Taking a moment to catch her breath and trying to compose herself, she looked in Cillian’s direction, putting on his shoes to then, take a seat on the couch as if nothing happened. Scout sniffing on the door.

“Oh, and don’t hurt him, I like this one.” She asked winking at him.

“My sweet girl, who is this?” Vassilis greeted her but moving back when he noticed the dog in her arms.

“This is Scout.”

His eyes moved around the place, until he noticed Cillian.

“I didn’t know you were here, I only brought two Greek coffees.” As if owning the place, he placed the cups on the table and made himself comfortable.

She explained Vassilis they had agreed to go to the Cara Photoshoot together.

“Cillian just adopted Scout and came here asking for some help.” That was the only thing she could think of to say, looking at Cillian for approval.

“And she’s also puppy sitting while I am filming.” He added following her lie, good thing he was an actor.

“Can’t believe she made you adopt a dog, she’s been trying to convince me for years.” Vassilis took a sip of his coffee. “Why don’t you get one yourself?”

Shrugging, she walked to the kitchen to get a mug. “I have been traveling a lot for the photographs, and a dog is a big commitment, they need time and attention.” Getting up, Cillian followed her. “And I didn’t force him.”

Scout followed them to the kitchen, he had already decided Vassilis was a good person.

“You gonna split that coffee?” His voice sounded casual, but his left hand caressed her bum blatantly, hidden by the kitchen bar.

“I loved your photographs.” Vassilis added looking at the dog seated next to Cillian wagging its tail.

“Don’t give him another treat, he already got two.”

Cillian looked at her.

“He kept asking, I already did it.” He replied looking at Scout. The dog gave him the loveliest puppy eyes.

“Why do you keep talking about the dog as a ‘he’? It’s an animal.”

Cillian took his mug and walked towards the table, making a sign to Vassilis to be quiet. “You really don’t want to start that conversation with her.”

“Because dogs are family, it’s not just a dog…” Yael stated while walking to them.

Vassilis put his head between his hands and rolled his eyes. “Please forget I said anything, you never heard me.”

Cillian chuckled.

“And all they…” she continued, but Vassilis interrupted her.

“I forgot you are the Mother Therese of pets, yes they are incredible and no, I’m not getting a dog.”

Cillian laughed at that.

“What are you laughing at?” She shoved him playfully on the shoulder.

“I didn’t bring any Greek food, since they don’t make it right.”

“It’s alright, we already had breakfast.”

Vassilis asked to be with them at the shooting, that’s why he arrived early at Yael’s apartment. He always loved to see her in action, felt so proud of her.

Yael showed them the pictures, she had her favorites printed and on a white backing card.

“Every time I see your work, I know I say the same but you really see something, it might be the angle, the light, a spark… something and the way you captured him, makes me want to pull my hair.” His words faded as he kept watching the picture of Cillian with the white t-shirt and jean jacket. It was mesmerizing, and every time Yael watched, her heart skipped a beat.

“She even made me like myself, in a non-vain way, if you know what I mean.” Cillian looked up at Yael in complete adoration, he wanted to pull her into his lap and kiss her right there.

“You know what’s funny?” He tried to find the right words to say. “Even before I asked you to take my place on the photoshoot, I just kept thinking how bad I wanted you two to meet, I have always wanted to set you up on a date.”

Yael choked on her coffee. Stealing a glance at Cillian, she mouthed him to not say anything, then, she moved around quietly.

“I’m ready to go just give me a second.”

Vassilis turned to Cillian then: “I hope I don’t make any of you uncomfortable, but you should think about it… she’s one in a million.”

Cillian nodded thinking at his words. It was somehow funny Vassilis thought of suggesting a date, when it was thanks to him that they got to work together and now, being in a relationship.

“Yael?” Cillian called. “Do you… hmm have this thing you mentioned…?”

He tried to play the fool going after her.

Once in her room, he pinned her against the wall, kissing her lips, his hands on her waist.

“Cillian!… He’s…so… close.” She managed to said between kisses.

“So am I.”

“I don’t think we should tell him… yet.” Pushing slightly him by the shoulders, she needed space, Cillian clouded her thoughts. “He will be making comments on the photo session later.”

“Whatever you decide, it’s okay.” Giving her one last deep kiss and he left the room. Leaving a tingle in her mouth, wanting more.

Vassilis announced he would take the lead and wait for them at the location.

The thing that excited him the most, was having Yael taking the photographs. Not the cover, nor the interview.

He was just glad he got a chance to spend some time with her, since at the last minute, he couldn’t have Sunday off from filming, being the lead of the show also meant he had less free time than the rest of the cast.

And again, he would be filming from midday until late at night.

“You have everything you need?”

“Yes, let’s go.”

Making their way out of her apartment, they greeted James, who was waiting by the car, he would be driving them to the location. Vassilis would be on his own since he had other things to do.

“I’m nervous.” She chuckled.

Cillian looked at her, holding the door, Scout trying to walk with them, but James was looking after him. “Hey don’t be, you are a pro.”

“But it’s different, because we are together now and this is for an important magazine.”

“What do you have in mind this time?” He asked, trying to make her forget her nerves.

“I really would love to follow a similar line to the previous shoot, you know effortlessly handsome just like you are.” He looked down, blushing. “I asked them for a white t-shirt, hope that is alright, and they didn’t have a lot of time to get a brand borrow a big wardrobe since it was organized last minute.”

“I don’t care about that. Let’s just have fun.”

“Fine, but you have to keep your hands to yourself, otherwise this won’t look professional.”

A genuine laugh came out of him. “I cannot promise you anything.”

She started setting the equipment while he went to another room to get ready, Vassilis helping with his guidance and suggestions of what he thought worked better. He always had something good to say, a valuable advice that would make the difference.

Yael tried to block away the thoughts of her mind from the night before, but it was slightly harder when he looked like that; dark jacket, white t-shirt, he didn’t like the shoes so he wore his own.

“Can we start over the window please?”

“Hello, how are you? It’s a lovely day.” Cillian shook his head. “You just go straight to business as if we saw each other this morning.”

She shot her eyes directly to him, looking around nervous. Anyone could hear him.

“I think we greeted on the way in.”

“Oh yeah? I don’t remember…” he was playing the fool. “Had some trouble sleeping.” He then added in a low voice, only for her to listen: “Very good trouble by the way.”

A cocky smile appeared on her lips, but the stylist getting close made her glad she didn’t reply anything.

“I will take your glasses.” Kayla offered. This time it wasn’t Rose, she was busy that day, so from the previous team they only had Karen the makeup artist, who had been complaining she preferred to work with Rose.

“Don’t worry Kayla, I think the glasses add a nice touch to the shoot.”

The girl smiled and looked in Cillian’s direction, blushing.

“Look outside, please… remember, I am not here.”

Cillian asked her to see the picture, it was actually just an excuse to get close to Yael.

“It’s hard to ignore you, you can’t blame me.”

“Think of something else.”

He wasn’t looking at the photo in her camera, he was brazenly looking at her.

“That’s dangerous baby, it involves you naked.” He murmured under his breath.

It only took one look at him and she would be imagining him like that too.

“You have magic hands and magic in your eyes.” Vassilis lifted his arms in the air and touched the top of his head.

“I learned from the very best, remember?” They were checking out the shoots when Kayla tried to get their attention. Karen asked a minute to adjust something on Cillian.

“I just want to say that I have been following your work for a while and it’s amazing to be here today.” She blushed.

“You are doing some fantastic work yourself young lady.” Vassilis stated smiling at the girl, she adjusted her glasses.

“Thank you, Mr. Karidis.”

“You know I started taking pictures around your age.” Yael smiled proudly. “And someone told me once to spread my wings and follow my dreams, and here we are today.” She smiled at Vassilis, her mentor. “You will find endless challenges along the way, just enjoy the moment and learn from every opportunity you get.”

Wrapping his arm around Kayla, Vassilis added: “There will be millions of Karen’s out there, don’t pay any attention to that, focus on your work and it will speak for itself.” He knew the makeup artist was giving Kayla a hard time.

“Will do.” The girl nodded with a smile.

“Can you take a seat on the stairs for me?”

“Oh, this is new, never been on a-”

“Put your hand on you knee.” She sighed, he had been making comments with a dirty meaning since they started shooting. His purple sock showing, he loved those.

Playfully touching her whenever he got a chance, stealing glances. And she enjoyed it, but she wanted this photoshoot to be as good as the previous one.

“Stop scolding me.” He complained and leaned his chin against the palm of his hand.

“Behave yourself.”

“Wha- you gonna punish me later?” she laughed and rolled her eyes at him.

While he took a seat on the stairs outside the building, Vass talked to her. “I know he is shy… but maybe you could take the lead and invite him to do something?”

“I’m working…”

“Yeah, but once you are done with the photos…”

Ignoring Vass, she got a few shoots of his face. “Look at the ground for me.”

They went around the building to get some outdoor shoots. Cillian changed into a grey jean washed out jacket.

Cillian was made to be in front of the camera.

“Hold the jacket tight, please. There it is.”

“One more…” with every move he made, she took that as an opportunity to capture his image.

“Your eyes on me now.” Yael demanded.

“Let’s go back inside, please.”

Cillian then changed into a deep blue plain t-shirt, matching his eyes, making them shine like diamonds.

He was the one that was a masterpiece.

One look from him and she got everything she needed. He had a magnet that was pulling her in.

It was hard to focus when his eyes were looking at her with such intensity, making her forget of the people around them. So inviting. Cillian’s eyes were some way soulful, saying so many things he probably wouldn’t dare to say out loud.

“Let me see that one more time…” she moved and closed the focus on his face.

“There it is, beautiful.”

Sure, his physical beauty helped, but the other part, the inside was the reason behind the spark in his eyes.

Looking at him from above her camera, Yael winked at him. This was the second part of an incredible photoshoot. She could never get tired of him.

“And we are good.” She high fived Kayla, the stylist was a really nice girl, she made it easier to shoot him than Rose did. “Thanks everyone.”

Cillian hurried to get changed, he needed to head back to the filming set.

“You aren’t going to use the rest of the clothes?” Asked Karen in disbelief. “You did the same the last time.”

“I don’t need more shoots, the ones that I got are enough.”

“Brands pay big to show their clothes.” She retorted.

Vassilis got close wondering if he should intervene. Karen shouldn’t be questioning Yael’s work, it should be the editor if anything.

“Cillian has to go, Karen I can’t keep him here forever.”

“Well maybe if you didn’t waste so much time chatting instead of shooting, he would have been able to change.”

Yael was about to answer something, but Vassilis cut her off.

“Hey, we are all good, the shoots are incredible.” He tried to reason, touching Yael’s arm gently.

Taking out her cellphone, she texted Cillian to wait for her in the car. She didn’t want him to be involved in this.

“We don’t have to use all the clothes they send.” Kayla offered. “They do it to give us options, a margin. The photos look good already.”

“But…” Karen started to complain.

“You are not going to tell Yael how to do her job. It’s not your place to do this.” Vass lost his patience. Yael placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “She is the photographer here, she is in charge of the shooting, if Yael says she’s done, she is.”

Karen made a face.

“The day you are behind the camera, you can give your opinion.”

Feeling uncomfortable, Yael tried to make him move. “Vass, let’s go. We are done here.”

Collecting her equipment, she opened the case of the camera and just like in their first Photoshoot, she found a note at the bottom.

Since I’m going to be late filming tonight…You can exchange this coupon for any date you want. Place, time and day is your pick. Cxo.

“She thinks everyone has to bow at her because she has worked with the Kardashians and Jennifer Lopez.” Kayla shook her head, sending Yael an apologetic look. “I have worked with her before, she is just mad Rose isn’t here, they are like a nail and dust.”

“You’re probably right Kayla, thanks… would you give me your contact information for future shoots? They always ask me if I have someone to recommend. Would like to work with you somewhere down the road.”

“Ah yes! Of course!” The girl chirped in excitement.

Yael collected her camera while Cillian went to wait for her in the car.

“Want to go and have lunch?” Kayla asked, she seemed like a lovely person, young as she was starting in the business.

Hurry up, starving.

Was the message Cillian sent her.

“I would like to, but I have plans already, we can go out another day?” Yael saw Kayla nod and said goodbye.

She wasn’t going to let Karen ruin her mood, she and Cillian needed to buy some food on their way to her apartment and then he would be gone for the day. And she really cherished the little moments they had, even if it was only for a quick lunch in the car.

And the little things? They aren’t so little in the end…

***

This was it. Maybe this was it for him. The grave, three men pointing at him with a gun in an empty field… his heart was pounding so hard.

“So fucking close.” He looked down, a smile bitterly on his face.

Taking an inhale of his cigarette, he turned around. Looked up to the sky in one last attempt to ask for one more chance, a chance to be with Grace, so meet his baby… Was this it?

“Oh, and there’s a woman…” He swallowed hard, his eyes closed, he could picture her smiling down at him. “Yeah… a woman… I love.”

“And I got close.” Slowly, he opened his eyes. Anger taking over him out of frustration, despair… “Nearly got fucking everything!”

Feeling hopeless, he closed his eyes one more time. He felt the cold air, maybe this was it for Tommy.

“Oh what the fuck.” Throwing away his cigarette, he walked towards the grave. “Get it done boys.” Threw his pocket watch.

“Comrade… we have our orders…” said the man. “You know how it is…”

Feeling his heart rate going up he nodded slightly. “I know how it is.”

Kneeling, he was getting ready to feel the bang and the bullet.

There was no way out…

Closing his eyes tight, he let out a small last breath. “I’m the bleak mid-winter…”

A sharp pain ran through his right arm and he felt himself falling to the ground. Simultaneously, two loud bangs were heard and he stayed still. Another body fell next to his. The third man pointed his gun at him.

“At some point in the near future, Mr. Churchill will want to speak to you in person, Mr. Shelby” Tommy looked around breathing heavy. “He has a job for you. We will be in touch.” Moving the gun around he said: “Get out of the grave, you tinker.” Tommy was in shock, still trying to understand what happened. “Be on your fucking way!”

Startled, he blinked in disbelief, trying to get up. In shock because he didn’t know what was next. His legs felt like jelly, adrenaline running through his veins, he stumbled and fell to the ground. Hitting the ground in frustration. “Fuck!” He continue walking confused.

“Cut!” He heard from afar. “That’s it everybody, well done.”

“Are you alright?” Steve Knight got close to him.

Cillian could barely register what was happening around him.

Swallowing hard, he nodded and walked to his trailer to get changed, still in complete shock.

***

“Where’s the treat?” He heard Yael somewhere, she was laughing and Scout barking as he made his way inside.

He felt dreaned, today’s filming was hard, exhausting, he felt anxious. Blinking, he felt his mind go blank.

“Cill?” He looked at her, didn’t realize she had been calling him. “What happened?” Yael rushed to him, Scout started sniffing his shoes.

Taking his bag from his shoulders, she made him sit on the breakfast bar chair.

“Are you okay?” She was so worried, he wasn’t saying a word, his gaze seemed lost and he had a red little stain on his eyebrow, panicked she thought he was in some kind of accident.

“Look at me, what’s wrong?”

Finally, Cillian realized he was home and her arms were around his neck, her scent bringing him back to life.

“I’m fine.” His head buried against her torso, while her hands were caressing him from his head, to his shoulders and back.

“Want to talk about it?”

Sighting against her, he said: “Not really.” He held his arms around her waist tight. His Irish accent was clear, but his presence and energy was totally Tommy’s.

Kissing the top of his head, Yael thought of something to make him feel better. “Why don’t you have a shower while I take Scout out and then we can have dinner in bed?”

Finally Cillian dropped his shoulders, letting Tommy slip away from him.

“Why are you so good to me?” Letting go of her waist, he patted his knee.

She kissed his cheek. “For the very same reason you are good to me. Go on, have a shower, you will feel better.”

Twenty minutes later, Cillian was curled in bed next to her. He was struggling trying to keep his eyes open, he felt so tired. Yael smiled at his sleepy face, her fingers stroking the fringe hanging from his forehead.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that.” He murmured, his voice soft.

Yael moved closer to him. “It’s fine, it’s one of those times you told me about?” He nodded, they had talked about how sometimes it was difficult for him to break from the character.

“Was it hard to film?”

Cillian wrapped his arm around her, closed his eyes, letting his system fill with her scent. “I didn’t know what would happen to my character… sometimes they give us the script incomplete on purpose so we can fill in the blanks with improvisation.” He felt his eyelids heavy. “They we supposed to kill me today. Or at least, that’s what I thought.”

Yael looked at him, he seemed so invested in this role, being the lead, he had so much pressure on his shoulders, did his best to play the part as expected, worked really hard on the gym, endured pain, she knew he did most of his scenes unless there might be some real danger, he was constantly reading both the script and complimenting reading to prepare the character he wanted to deliver, in the short amount of time they had together, the compromise was evident, even off screen. The difference in his energy when he was still on his character’s skin to his normal self was abysmal, everything was the opposite like light and dark.

“It’s okay, you’re home now.” She whispered softly. And by home, she meant her arms.

She watched his chest rise and fall as he was drifted away peacefully sleeping.

Maybe he would be up for a weekend getaway after he finished filming… her family owned a cottage over the lake. He seemed like he needed to relax, and they could use some time together.

#That’s what Cill said #cillian murphy #tommy shelby #cillian murphy fan fiction #cillian murphy imagine #tommy shelby imagine #cillian murphy x oc #peaky blinders fan fiction #peaky blinders fanfic #thomas shelby fanfic

100 notes · View notes

redphlox · 3 years

Text

Dabi's fear of feelings and connections

Dabi is a walking contradiction; he says he doesn't care about anyone, but his flames, which are linked to his emotions, demonstrate otherwise when Twice is killed. Dabi brushes off the news that Natsuo could have died because of him but still refers to him affectionately as Natsu-kun. Touya went around calling Endeavor out for neglecting his children but still trained to regain his approval and attention anyway. He lashed out at baby Shouto, admitted Shouto had done nothing wrong, and then attacked him again years later. He cries blood while thinking about his family but doesn't go home to them or change his actions which hurt them even more. Dabi wants to destroy hero society for a better future but it's obvious he doesn't plan to live long enough to see that future.

The gaps between his actions and his words are a result of dissociation and repression. It's not that Dabi is emotionless. Actually, he feels too much and he's afraid of his feelings because they've done nothing but hurt him emotionally and physically. He literally almost burned to death the one time he had a burst of emotion on Sekoto Peak and in order to prevent a repeat of that, he operates under the flawed notion that safety lies in repressing his feelings and pushing people away. He lies to himself and others and therefore cannot reconcile with his true self and can’t trust others.

In this meta I'll discuss how Dabi deals with his unprocessed feelings of betrayal and neglect by denying himself connections with both his inner wounded child and those around him. I'll also address a few misconceptions surrounding Dabi because dismantling them is key to understanding him. Contrary to popular belief, he does not want to kill his father, he never wanted to be a hero for his own sake, and he doesn't hate Shouto or his family. At its core, Touya's hurt stems from discovering that his relationship with his father wasn't based on unconditional love. This realization destroyed his sense of self so much it caused him to start fearing his own feelings and being close to others because of the link between his emotions and his self-destructive quirk.

To understand Dabi we have to understand Touya. In 291 we see through Endeavor's flashback that Touya was eager to train under him and carry his legacy. It's implied by the fact they’re working on ultimate moves that not only is Touya a willing, eager participant but that the two have been training together for quite some time. In 301 we learn that after Touya's quirk started hurting him Endeavor not only abandoned the training regime but also abandoned Touya both emotionally and physically. Instead of using the time he spent training Touya to help Touya find a new hobby or purpose in life, or just hanging out with his kid, Endeavor chooses to remove himself from Touya’s life. When Touya confronts him about the change of routine, Endeavor is seen putting on his jacket and leaving the home, his body turned away from his son.

Maybe Endeavor had errands to run, but my point is that he was in Touya’s life one minute and then gone the next. Touya says so himself: why did Endeavor change his mind all of a sudden? The abrupt change in attitude was jarring for a 4-5 year old to handle. To Touya, training = love, so he felt compelled to keep training and demonstrate his worthiness despite the fact that his quirk was hurting him. To Touya, the pain was worth it if it meant hanging out with his dad again.

But why? Well, Touya was Endeavor's #1 fan, genuinely so. His admiration and fondness for his father was genuine, and he didn't question the triumphant look on Endeavor's face when Touya said he wanted to learn the ultimate move. Before his quirk started burning him, Touya had no idea he was born for his father's ulterior motives. He had no reason to question his father's attention. Touya lived under the impression his bond with his dad was genuine and special, and he probably felt lucky that his father was willing to share something so important to him (heroism). Even after the training stops and Endeavor stops paying attention to Touya, Touya still wears his merch and vies for his attention. Most kids see their parents as larger than life and Touya was no exception. Keigo Takami admired Endeavor the hero, and Touya Todoroki admired his father who just so happened to be the hero Endeavor. Since being a hero was such a big deal for Endeavor, it was a big deal for Touya.

But that's where Touya's story becomes tragic. His father is a flawed, flawed man with many insecurities and fallacies that he pushes onto his family. I’ll get to those in a moment, but as intelligent and observant Touya is to catch on that Endeavor never set out to marry to become a father, he is too young to separate himself from his father’s expectations. Touya realizes he was born for a purpose and Touya will be damned if he doesn't fulfill that purpose even if he knows it's wrong. His father's ‘love’ meant that much to him. For Touya, it's not about becoming a hero for the glory. It was about his relationship with his father because, as I mentioned earlier, Touya was his #1 fan in the sense that he loved Enji just for being his dad. There were no conditions tied to that. “You are my dad, and I love you.”

But that wasn’t a sentiment that Touya felt in return, and that hurt Touya. He internalized he wasn't good enough, that something about him was inherently wrong. But more than that, his world came tumbling down - he felt betrayed and lied to: his father didn't love him like Touya needed him to, and this truth destroyed him. Their relationship was a lie, a farce, and it hurt so much Touya became obsessed with not hurting anymore because he couldn’t get away from it.

Touya’s motivation to become a hero didn't rise from being inspired by All Might like Shouto. Touya’s thought process wasn’t "I want to be a hero to help others or be like All Might" like Deku. No, Touya only wanted to be a hero because he wanted his father to be proud of him for surpassing All Might. Notice that Touya's obsession with beating All Might slowly diminishes from “I can surpass All Might” to “I can surpass All Might like Shouto, too” to just “look at me, Endeavor.” It was never about being a hero per say, but about his relationship with his father. Touya realized that Endeavor isn't his father first, but a hero, and he understands that he has to be a hero too to fit into his father's world. Even upon realizing that his father was using him, Touya still wanted to be part of his life, still wanted that bond. Touya, in his desperation to be loved and accepted again, could look past his father's selfishness as long as he regained that approval. Touya could pretend the relationship was real as long as he stopped feeling so unlovable.

This is unhealthy thinking, of course. Even if Touya somehow managed to regain Endeavor's approval, the relationship would still be one-sided and dissatisfying because he wouldn't be able to ignore the truth. But, this is how he rationalized his insistence to keep training in his 4-5 year old mind and this line of thought stuck with him as he grew up just as those feelings of inadequacy never left him.

This is precisely why Natsuo's drowsy "can't you go talk to our sister?" hurt so much. Touya was already emotionally fragile, and hearing that felt like being rejected all over again when it was actually Natsuo just trying to sleep. Touya was hypersensitive to any words or actions that could be interpreted as dismissive. His trauma wouldn't listen to logic that Natsuo was 8 and too young to understand, that he was tired - no, Touya's brain said, you're being rejected again! This is also why he also stormed away crying from Fuyumi after she expressed her concern for him.

In Touya’s mind, why couldn't anyone just agree with him that he was good enough? He heard "your dad's right and you're not good enough so why try" not "I care about you, your father is wrong, and I don't want you to keep getting hurt" whenever Rei tried to get him to stop training because that's the message he got from his father, too. Nevermind that it infuriated Touya that his mother could stand there and preach to him when, from his perspective, she couldn’t take her own advice. All Endeavor ever did was teach him to turn up the heat, so why should it matter that doing just so hurts him? Touya didn't understand NOT training his quirk because he had been taught that raising his firepower was ideal in all situations. Those two statements didn't make sense to a 4-5 year old, a 13 year old, and it still doesn’t make sense as a 24 year old.

To take Endeavor's lack of self awareness a step further, because it's important to understand Endeavor to fully understand Dabi, Endeavor has yet to realize his own inherent worth. He doesn't have to prove anything to his family, especially his kids. They love him unconditionally, without special reason aside from the fact that he's theirs and he's himself. However, Endeavor is so obsessed with proving himself that he doesn't realize he never had to, and he projects this onto his children. They must prove themselves by winning the genetic lottery, by being useful to his plans, by surpassing All Might.

The irony that to be a great father he doesn't have to be a hero at all is ugly because Endeavor has no identity outside of being a hero. Endeavor has said before he wants to be a good hero and father to make Shouto proud, but he fails to realize he already had this in Touya all those years ago and it still left him unsatisfied. The issue isn’t his role as a hero, it’s his inner self. In 301 Endeavor literally reaches out to Touya to talk him out of training and hurting himself, and Touya allows his father to touch his shoulders because he wants a bond with his father - any bond. Shouto, on the other hand, wouldn't allow Endeavor to touch him in 167 and slaps his hand away because he doesn’t want Endeavor’s approval. Endeavor doesn't realize Natsuo carries deep abandonment and neglect issues because he wanted to be accepted by his father too (light novel #5) but was ignored. Endeavor doesn't realize he was always good enough by default and that by projecting onto his kids and trying to be the top hero he’s doing the opposite of what he wants. He just keeps pushing away his family.

It’s important to point out Endeavor’s illogical thinking because Touya learned some of these same ideas. Touya repeatedly tries to prove himself without realizing that he was always good enough by default. The problem wasn’t his quirk or his body, but his father’s flawed thinking and self-worth issues. Now as an adult, Dabi is selfish because he's Endeavor's son and emobidies his most negative characteristics. Dabi thinks of his flames as Endeavor's, and he thinks of himself as an extension of Endeavor because that's how Endeavor set him up for life. Touya has no identity to fall back on after his father casts him aside. He was supposed to be Endeavor 2.0, but now that title is Shouto’s. Dabi doesn’t hate Shouto as a person, but he has tricked himself into believing Shouto is their father’s puppet. Shouto is a doll being used by their father with no self agency, and Dabi is going to break all of Endeavor’s toys. It’s nothing personal against Shouto, it’s just Shouto’s bad luck that he happens to be Endeavor’s masterpiece. This is why Dabi doesn’t hurt Shouto when they first meet at the training camp, and why Dabi stops attacking Shouto after Endeavor passes out - it’s not about Shouto. It’s about Endeavor, and breaking Endeavor. Touya is still there trying to be part of his father’s world, only this time not as a hero but as a villain who will end his own suffering. He doesn't want Endeavor to die, he just wants him to suffer, to ruin his dreams. Dabi thinks of it as justice.

But because Touya is still there, there is still that goodness in him, too. His connection to Fuyumi and Natsuo is still there, repressed and compartmentalized. It’s why he calls them affectionately as Fuyumi-chan and Natsu-kun. Touya’s pain is so great he has decided he’d rather end it than to carry on and look elsewhere. He's stuck, rightfully so. He recognizes his mother is a flawed person and ultimately doesn’t blame her for being a victim - she could have done more for her son, but he still sees her and his other siblings, even Shouto, as people who fell victim to Endeavor’s abuse who don't challenge their situation. Dabi sees himself as someone who does stand up to the abuse but doesn’t realize he still wants his father’s attention. He's always wanted it. That's why he went around at 13 condemning his father's treatment of his children but still trained to prove himself. This is part of the reason he became a villain.

Not to mention that Dabi literally can't cry. He has no way to release those emotions, so instead of trying to let them out, he pushes them down. But that doesn't work and is detrimental in the long run. In 290-294 we saw Dabi's flames burn so hot during his confrontation with Endeavor and revealing himself as Touya that his burns have spread. Dabi is afraid of his feelings because of their connection to his flames, but he also uses his feelings to his advantage. He wants to go out in an inferno along with Shouto just to hurt Endeavor and put an end to his own suffering and Endeavor's career. This is why Dabi doesn't bother calming himself down or denying that he never forgot how he was treated when he lived at home. Dabi became emotional in that battlefield, smiling maniacally instead of crying because he physically can't cry. In his mind, if his feelings are going to destroy him, he might as well use them to prove a point. After all, he has experience being used. It's why he was born.

I'm not saying any of these actions or thoughts are healthy or correct or condoned, by the way. Trauma responses don't make logical sense and usually aren't healthy. Knowing how the mind responds to trauma, it's understandable that Touya still wanted his father's attention even if it was abusive. In fact, this is how children often respond to abuse. Their caretaker/parent is all they know and they cling to these figures. Often times when authorities try to remove a child from their abusive parents, the child doesn't want to go because this parent is all they know and they do feel like they love their parent/caretaker. I’m not saying the authorities got involved in this case, because obviously they didn’t, but this same mentality of abused children can be applied to Touya. Touya, in his four year old mind, probably convinced himself that if he was good enough everything would go back to how it used to be.

So, to sum up Dabi’s character, of course he doesn't make any sense. He’s still that hurt 4-5 year old who is trying to protect himself from ever getting hurt like that again while still wanting his father’s validation. Of course he doesn’t want to get close to anyone, not even the League. He doesn't want to be vulnerable or let people in or form connections because the last time that happened he was let down, forsaken, and it hurt so much it literally made him lose control of his quirk to the point he almost died. When Twice is killed, Dabi consoles himself by saying he didn't care anyway, all to prevent another emotional fire. Dabi is a master of compartmentalizing and boxing away his feelings - this is probably why, 310 chapters into BNHA, we have yet to have a few chapters in his POV or his backstory. He's disconnected from himself. He knows his plot to get justice will hurt his siblings and mother and to live with himself and move forward he represses those feelings.

Because of his father not showing up on Sekoto peak, Dabi has to live with physical disabilities due to his scars and memories of burning alive. He doesn't want to go through that again so he lies to himself that he doesn't care about anyone or anything. He denies that he's still in pain while simultaneously seeking validation of his pain. He acts like he doesn't care about his family but still calls them affectionate names. He acts like he hates Endeavor and calls him by his name but still wants his attention. He decided long ago that he would die destroying Endeavor's career because that was the thing Endeavor cares about most of all in this life. It's a "you hurt me so I'll hurt you" mentality. He has tricked himself into thinking this is justice, failing to realize this won't make him feel better if he doesn't die by his own hand along the way.

Dabi is full of resentment and spite, both of which take root from feelings of abandonment, betrayal, and the loss of a purpose and the realization that he wasn't born to be loved for who he was but as a tool for his father. The first betrayal he suffered was in the form of realizing his father didn't love him genuinely, and this was identity-breaking for him. He never recovered from it. The second betrayal, the reinforcer, was his father not showing up to Sekoto Peak. Since then, Dabi is reliving his trauma over and over again the more he uses his quirk and the more he faces Endeavor. To be saved, Dabi needs to accept that he is loved unconditionally and needs to be validated that he was right to feel thrown aside and used.

#dabi #touya todoroki #toya todoroki #shouto todoroki #shoto todoroki #bnha #bnha meta #my meta #endeavor

871 notes · View notes

merakiui · 3 years

Text

Half-Off Love

yandere!scaramouche x (gender neutral) reader art credit - kentasha1236 on twt cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, gold-digging, implied yandere!childe note - thank you so much for 600 followers! o(≧∇≦o) I’ll work hard!

It’s strange. There’s no other adjective to describe the situation you’ve found yourself in.

The ring slides itself onto your steady finger and it’s a miracle your discomfort doesn’t show. Your eyes struggle to meet his, but when they do you’re searching for a reason—for a meaning behind such a generous gift. You’ve witnessed this scene plenty of times before, having scoffed at the couples who decide to take their relationship to the next level. Whether it be in Mondstadt or Liyue, you’ve watched your fair share of angelic proposals. Although this is far from a proposal—at least, you hope it’s not a proposal. You’d feel powerless to decline if Scaramouche put you in such a position, and you’re almost certain he’s aware of this.

But the main thing—you now realize—that’s holding him back is your status and his relationship with you. It’s nothing special, just mere physical attraction rather than the emotional hindrances that come with real, heart-racing love. There’s nothing wholesome in the way you regard one another; it’s just sex.

“Do you like it? I made sure to find only the highest quality gemstone for you.”

And yet when he performs this caring charade, it doesn’t feel like loveless copulation.

Ew, you think, plastering a smile to your face. Since when was Scaramouche so concerned with materialistic signs of affection? He’s far from loving; he’s just pent-up, frustrated from his rigorous job as a Harbinger and so he decides to use you as a means of coping. He almost sounds like Childe with his ineffective flirting methods. You’ve received your fair share of spoils from him as well, and you’ve done everything you could to cull that relationship before it grew out of hand. But now you’re stuck with the lesser side of the coin: another troublesome Fatui Harbinger.

If you didn’t know any better, you might think to chase after Signora or Dottore next. Maybe you’ll aim for the Tsaritsa Herself if you’re especially daring. After all, your life has been nothing but deceit and faux pleasures; there’s little value to a liar’s life. If the Archons wish for your swift end, you’re positive it’ll be a result of your insatiable greed.

“It’s lovely. The color matches my eyes.”

It doesn’t, but you lie about it anyways. And he looks pleased to hear your approval.

“Then perhaps I should get you a bracelet as well? Or would you prefer something with a little more use, such as a pocket watch?”

Why don’t you just lock me up with a collar instead? you think bitterly, already keen on pawning the ring off once the initial luster fades. Since you’re so eager to buy these things for me in hopes that I’ll return. It’s annoying.

“This is more than enough. I don’t want you to spend a fortune on me.” There’s a sweet lilt in your voice as your hand cups his cheek, and he leans into your warm touch, starved of the affection like a stray mutt. ”I only need you per our agreement. You do remember what that is, right?”

He’d be caught dead bending to the desires of someone so insignificant, but he just can’t stay away. Not when your every word is intoxicating poison he’ll readily ingest.

“I’m aware." There’s a sigh in his tone as he pulls away, almost as if he wants to simply sit there and indulge in playful conversation. As if he actually wants to familiarize himself with the real you. But that emotion doesn’t last for long and an irritated expression crawls onto his handsome face as he silently recalls something.

You’re slipping your silks off with grace, curiously tracking his movements. “You look upset. Was it because of what I said?”

“Of course not. You could never upset me.”

Until you get bored of me.

When you cast your robes aside, reaching for Scaramouche’s elaborate outfit, you murmur, “Let me guess. It was that traveler again, wasn’t it? I’m not sure why you’re so hung up on them.” A whimper leaks into your voice and you fix him with a pout. “I’m sad you’d think of others when I’m right here. Aren’t I the only one you need?”

It’s ironic how quickly that line hooks him, dragging him up from the murkiest depths of love that has skewed into obsession. When you tried it out on Childe, he wasn’t so easily swayed. You find their differences to be invigorating. If the arrangement with Childe was still ongoing, you might’ve considered a threesome, if only to wring more glittering treasures out of the both of them. Mora and jewelry galore, it all goes towards your stockpiled savings. And it’s times like these when you’re lucky to have avoided economic business with the Fatui. Being free of Fatui debt has its perks, a bright miracle in your dark relationships. That’s one less tether to Scaramouche and one less reason to cling to him after you’ve had enough.

He smirks at your forced envy, easily pushing you backwards onto the plush mattress once he’s fully undressed. For a brief moment, he pictures your pliant body sprawled across an office desk while he pounds into you from behind, putting on a lewd show for his leering underlings. There’s something arousing about your secret relationship that has strange ideas formulating within his head. He entertains a simple scheme, one in which he’d shed light on your connection; however, the other side of him wants to keep your existence for himself, where no one will disturb the two of you in your pleasurable endeavors.

Perhaps you would truly belong to him if he were to expose you for the fraud you really are. Oh, the joy of trapping an unsuspecting rat in a corner, with no way out but into his open arms. You’ll hardly have any semblance of a choice, but he knows you’ll choose the option that guarantees another chance at life.

Scaramouche thinks about that as he revels in soft, tantalizing foreplay. He knows you aren’t as dedicated to this relationship as he is and he’s almost certain you’ve got others waiting for you in different parts of Teyvat. He’s just another plaything you’ve picked up for the fun of it. And in these moments where you surrender to his touch, your back arching with avaricious thoughts, you seem to forget about the power he truly wields. The thought that he could suffocate you in this very bed with his love alone should have you taking precautions to cover your vulnerability, but you only have your eyes set on one thing—not exactly minding the outcome so long as it’s monetarily favorable.

And if playing into your covetous hands ensures your weekly arrival, he’ll gladly empty his pockets of spare change.

You don’t like this new side of him. Lately he’s been treating this as if the two of you are lovers: slow, sensual thrusts accompanied with the sweetest of promises. You’ve never really minded the filth he’d moan in your ear and now you wish he’d resort to that instead. Loveless words spoken through the veil of lust—that’s what you want to hear.

He envelops you like a smothering fog, fitting himself snugly inside of your tight hole in an embrace that’s oh so familiar. You aren’t used to such gentle treatment and as he kisses along your collarbone you feel yourself going under, having fallen victim to a Harbinger who is normally so cold-hearted. Perhaps he’s more sensitive than you originally thought. Months ago, you wouldn’t have imagined your relationship would grow into something so uncertain, where emotionless love becomes packaged and bogged down with so much feeling.

His lips ghost over yours and there’s a slight pause in his actions. You turn your head to the side, denying his choking affection before it can drag you further into a spiraling abyss of regret. Annoyance swells in his hazy gaze, but he uses your new position to his advantage.

“It’s cute,” he says in a hushed voice, breath tickling your ear, “how you seem to rid yourself of my gifts as soon as they fall into your hands. I wonder where they’ve gone. Into the harbor? Traded off for food and shelter? Do tell me.”

When his grip on your hip tightens to a threatening degree, you resign yourself, opting to hold your tongue as his pace remains brutally slow. Rather than speaking out of line, you raise your hand to his face, and he clasps your wrist in a forceful hold.

The look in his eyes is far from loving—it’s that same obsessed expression Childe wore. And even if he still searches for you for reasons other than sex, you’re aware there’s no luck where Scaramouche is concerned. You can run from Childe because he’ll allow it—because he adores the chase—but Scaramouche hardly finds delight in a game of cat and mouse. You should’ve expected this. After all, he is just as conniving as the rest, always inventing new ways to track down and eradicate that peculiar traveler. Of course he would know about how you handle his presents when he isn’t looking because there’s no denying the stern gazes that would pierce through your backside whenever you went to the market.

"I’d never throw them out like that...” you mumble through another soft moan, hoping he’ll just pick up the pace and be done with you. “Your gifts are priceless.”

And yet the price for your own love is so hefty. If he weren’t Fatui, it might be enough to throw him into lifelong debt.

“Is that so? You seem to put a price on them whenever you visit the marketplace.” His fingers grip your chin, forcing you into an inescapable eye contact. “If you enjoy putting prices on items that you claim are priceless, you won’t mind if I collect a refund for your dishonesty.”

“A...refund?”

Your lustful thoughts evaporate once you realize his pace has become horribly slow, his dick stilling and creating an itch of barely noticeable ecstasy. You wiggle your hips to increase the friction, wanting to get yourself off before his words can sour the mood. Though it’s already spoiled when you recognize the carnal victory shining in his twisted smirk. Your unfortunate fate was sealed the moment you welcomed his company with foolish openness, and you’ve been indebted ever since he decided to spoil you with lavish foods and accessories.

For love that is far from cheap, interest must be paid and your very being makes for the perfect bargain.

It’s weird when he kisses you on your lips rather than on the parts of your body that are normally obscured with delicate cloth. And it’s even weirder when that metaphorical collar binds your throat in a vice. It’s more harrowing than any sort of debt you might’ve garnered and it’s just as inconvenient as his boyish adoration.

Scaramouche doesn’t have to purchase your flimsy, half-off love when it’s already prepackaged and ready for the taking.

“You heard me. A refund is hardly enough punishment for a lying brat, but it will have to suffice for now.”

For now.

Spurred on by his own insinuating threats, he seeks to bruise your very insides with thrusts that are filled with physical vexation rather than the emotional ministrations from before. And since you’re so accustomed to him, your greedy hole eagerly welcomes him.

#yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #genshin impact lemon #scaramouche lemon #yandere scaramouche #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere genshin impact scaramouche #n/sfw #i'd like to write a part two #please enable me orz

1K notes · View notes

bakugosbratx · 3 years

Text

NSFW 18+ The Assistant— AU Levi Ackerman x Fem! Reader

Warning: 18+ Content. Smut, degrading, cursing, punishment, dom levi, sub reader, bondage, bdsm, some angst, toxic relationship, spanking, cheating, etc.

Words: 3, 673

Check out my other works here

A/N: Me and my irl moot @idfkwtfgof came up with this idea so I decided to write it out. Enjoy this fifty shades of gray moment. I’ve been working on this for over a month 🙃 I’m sorry it took me forever.

Tags: @idfkwtfgof @awilddreamerwrites @peachsenpie

You take a deep breath as you approached the double doors in front of you. Your heart pounded against your rib cage. The silent hallways seemed to be echoing the thumps. Anyone in your position would be nervous too if they had to meet with the CEO of the Ackerman Industries. He was not one to enjoy much company nor request it. His gaze alone could intimidate the strongest of people and you are no different.

Fist resting on the wooden door in front of you, you hesitate, but close your eyes and knock anyway. You did not hear a response as you patiently wait. Instead, the door swings open to be met with the CEO himself, Levi Ackerman. Not a word was spoken, but he ushered you inside his huge office.

Scurrying, you slightly jump as you heard the huge door slam. You are in Levi’s office. Only businessmen and women are allowed in here. You feel not even worthy to be stepping on the same floor these successful people walk on. It could also be the fact that the office seemed spotless. For someone as busy as the CEO, he sure did know how to make a stack of papers seem neat in a stack.

“Sit.” Levi instructed as he strolled over to his desk chair and doing the said action. You looked around the room. Behind Levi is a wall of windows to overlook the city of New York. His desk his a beautiful dark brown that was so clean that you could see your reflection. Along with seeing your reflection, you can see —and feel— Levi starring at you. Meeting his silver orbs, you gulp.

“Do you know why I called you in here, Y/N?” Levi questioned, his tone remaining calm as always. Somehow, this intimidated you even more.

“No, sir, I don’t.” You admit. In all honesty, you are not sure why Levi called you into his office. He waited until almost everyone has gone home for the evening to set up this meeting. You have felt nauseous all day about it. Receiving an email from the CEO was enough to make anyone’s breath hitch, but to have a meeting — alone — with him is enough to make one soil themselves.

“I want to offer you a promotion,” Levi explained, his gaze hardening. “That is, if you want it?”

This is way better news than you expected. Levi has employees for a reason. He always calls the shots since it is his million dollar company, but why get his hands dirty when he can pay people to do it for him? Since no one is allowed in his office without special permission, this seemed a bit off.

“What does the job intel?”

“Well, my company is expanding even larger than anticipated this year. I need a personal assistant. Examining the work you have put in over the years, I decided you are cut out for the job. What do you say?”

You take a moment to contemplate his words. The offer is amazing and would definitely look great on your resume, but working so close to the CEO of the company is quite intimidating. Any bad habits you have developed better end swiftly or else it’s your job on the line. Levi is not afraid to terminate anyone not fit for the job.

“I’ll take it.” You smile, the words flowing out before you could even think any further.

“You start tomorrow. I expect you in my office 8am sharp. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re dismissed.”

Standing up, you straighten out your black pencil skirt and head your way towards the door. Levi’s eyes did not once leave your figure. The way you naturally sway your hips as you walk and the way the skirt hugged your hips just right. His eyes are enjoying the desires most men have yet when you turned to look over your shoulder, his eyes where focused on his paperwork.

You went home that night, excited to tell your significant other about your promotion. He did not even blink an eye in your direction. Instead, he is pissed that you are home later than normal.

“Babe—“

“Where the hell have you been?” He hissed.

“I-I was called into the CEO’s office. I got a promotion!” You stammered, nervous under your boyfriend’s glare. He always made you feel small and his anger tends to send you over the edge. This is one of those many times.

“Why would he have you in there this late? Do you think I’m really that fucking stupid?” He scoffed, shaking his head.

“Babe, I’m being serious. I would never lie to you.” You argued.

“And how do I know that?” He countered. “How am I certain that you aren’t cheating on me? Or even hurt? Are your damn thumbs broken, Y/N? Can’t keep me updated ‘bout what’s going on? I was worried sick about you.”

You let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, babe. I’ll do better.”

Your boyfriend walked over to you, embracing your body into a tight hug. You had so much more to say, but to prevent any further escalation of an argument, you apologized and kept your mouth shut.

The next morning arrived. You woke up extra early to have time to do your hair and makeup, dressed in your nicest attire, and wear the most expensive of jewelry. Since you are going to be around the CEO for now on, you cannot show up to work appearing sluggish. You gave yourself one last look in the mirror, your boyfriend leaning against the doorframe.

“Dressed quite nicely, huh?” He spoke, meeting your eyes through the mirror. You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat.

“I have to be.”

He stayed silent for a moment, his orbs tracing your figure. He hated when you showed confidence. It killed him inside and knowing that other men saw your beauty as well made his blood boil. He just has to ruin it.

“For the circus? Your makeup looks awful and your hair is tremendous.” He scoffed.

You bit your bottom lip. Tears welled in your eyes, but you prevented them from falling. You refuse to let him ruin your confidence. You are a strong woman and his insecurities shouldn’t be placed upon you. It is not your baggage to carry.

You meet his eyes again through the mirror. You feel your confidence crumble beneath you, but you remain strong. Turning around, you brush past him as you stroll out of the bathroom. You ignored him calling your name and demanding you to return. All he could do is watch as you left without even saying goodbye.

You arrived to the business earlier than expected. You have checked your hair and makeup more than once in the car review mirror. You are not necessarily even wanting Levi’s approval, — though he is quite handsome — you just want to look presentable. He is your boss, after all. He is not afraid to fire anyone on the spot. You are no exception.

Inhaling a sharp breath, you knock on Levi’s office door. You hear his approval to come inside and welcome yourself inside. You were not even receive a glance as you closed the door behind you. Levi’s gray orbs never left his monitor screen. You gulp nervously as you proceed towards his desk.

“I stopped to get some coffee. I brought you a tea,” you lay his cup on his desk, “just how you like it.”

He nods, still typing away. This did not help your anxiety at all. Is he regretting his decision making you his assistant? Are you disturbing him? Is he contemplating firing you? Your stomach turned at the thought.

The sound of the printer disturbed your nuisance thoughts. Levi grabbed the piece of paper and placed it on top of a neat stack. He stands up, finally looking at you.

“I have a meeting to attend to in an hour. I need these documents assorted in alphabetical order before then.”

Your eyes fall to the tall stack of papers. You definitely need more than an hour to get through them all. By Levi’s facial expression, you knew he was serious. Levi always looked serious.

“Yes, sir,” you grab the stack and meet his a gaze again, “I’ll get it done swiftly.”

“Good. I’m counting on you. Sit over there.” He orders, glancing at the couches and coffee table in the middle of his office. Maybe it is just your nerves, but his workspace seems bigger than remembered. This did not help your anxiety.

You began getting to work. You thought you are doing well on time, but time seemed to have passed you by. Levi is now towering over you, his unsatisfied silver orbs glaring down at you. You hesitate, but force yourself to meet them.

“Thought you said you would have this done?” Levi recalls.

“I-I’m really sorry, s-sir.” You stammered, expecting the worse.

“Sorry doesn’t sort the papers, Y/N.” He scolds, his silver eyes only being shown through slits.

“I—“

“We will discuss this after my meeting. Until then, I want my office spotless.” Levi continues, cutting you off. He begins walking towards the door and pauses once he reaches for the handle. “Oh and Y/N?”

You look up, meeting the CEO’s annoyed orbs. “Yes, sir?”

“You’re on strike one.” Levi warns. You did not even have a chance to ask questions as his office door slams shut behind him, leaving you alone to sulk in your thoughts.

You tidied up Levi’s office like he requested of you. Every paper went into its appropriate home, cushions are straightened out, rug is vacuumed, and you are currently dusting. This man is a clean freak by nature so there was not much to do. Still, your nerves were pulsating. This is only day one and you are not on Levi’s good side. You are becoming worrisome as your job is now potentially on the line.

The door opening made you jump. You can feel Levi’s silver orbs on you as you dust his bookshelf. He did not disturb you, though, as he proceeded towards his desk and went to work like nothing happened. Curiosity is begging you to speak, but you remain silent and complete your task.

You gather the cleaning supplies and place them back into the small closet. Returning on the guest side of Levi’s desk, he does not even look up from his monitor.

“I’m finished cleaning, sir.”

Levi did not say anything. Instead, he stood up and went to the window. His fingers grazed along the exterior which collected dust on the tips. He studied it for a moment. Your heart stopped as your breath hitched. You did not mean to forget the windows, but they look so clean already. They truly do not need much more cleaning.

“Seems like you missed a spot.” He remarks, turning to face you.

“I-I’m so sorry, sir. I thought—“

“Your cleaning is lamentable. Back to dusting. Now.” He demands, cleaning the dust off of his fingers with his handkerchief.

“Yes, sir.” You reply, gathering the cleaning supplies once again. You sprayed the windows and clean every inch of them until lunch time. Levi was sure to inspect your work before releasing you to go get something to eat.

“You’re dismissed.” He finally speaks. You are quick to collect your belongings leave his office. You stroll the long hallway to the elevator. You are finally alone with your thoughts and honestly, they were overwhelming. This job is very nerve racking and it’s only your first day. You are not making the best of impressions on your boss.

Digging in your purse, you check your cellphone. You have several missed calls and texts from your significant other. A pit in your stomach began to drown your appetite. You know this is going to cause a major fight between you two. A fight you did not want to participate in.

Reluctantly, you call your boyfriend back. He picks up on the second ring.

“Where the fuck have you been?” He hissed, sending chills down your spine. The elevator doors open and you head towards the cafeteria.

“Working. I can’t be on my phone while I’m—“

“So work is more important than me?” He interrupts.

“What? No. That’s not it at all.” You argued, picking up a bag of chips and a drink from the dispensers before checking out.

“Then answer my damn calls, Y/N!”

“I can’t when I’m at work!” You exclaimed. You hand the cashier money before mouthing the words ‘thank you.’ She gave you a worried look, but you disregarded it. This is not the first time that have heard a heated conversation between you and your boyfriend.

You go find an empty table to eat by yourself. The bickering between your boyfriend did not end on a good note as the other line went dead. You slammed your phone back into your purse and forced yourself to eat your chips. You did not even want them. Your relationship is falling through the cracks, you are failing at your job, and you are on the verge of losing what is left of your sanity.

Time really slipped away while you fumed in anger because you are now late to returning to Levi’s office. Tears prickled in your eyes. This is not good at all. Levi is going to be furious. Even possibly firing you.

You raced to his office. You did not even take the elevator as it will take far too long to get to his office. You are panting by the time you arrive and sweat droplets formed at the top of your forehead. Your hands began to shake as your hand rested on the handle. You need to go in there, but your body did not want to move. Your boyfriend is already pissed. You did not want to deal with your furious boss.

Sighing, you forced yourself to go inside. “I am so sorry.” You blurt out as you enter inside. Levi is giving you a disapproving look.

“Take a seat, Y/N. We need to have a talk.”

Following your boss’ orders, you sit in the chair parallel to his. You begin to tremble as you expect the worse. Levi’s glare does not help you feel any less uneasy either. His silver orbs are staring deep into your soul and making you feel small.

“You know you’re on strike three.” Levi begins. You gulp.

“I know, sir. I’m very sorry. I’ll accept any punishment you have in mind for me.” You sigh, trying to remain brave. Levi can see right through it, though. His gaze hardens and he makes his way around to your side of the desk. He folds his arms but does not remove his gaze from you once.

“What punishment do you think you deserve?” Levi ask, hoping you have the same answer in mind as him.

“I-I’m not sure. I’ll take anything. It’s what I deserve.” You admit, a flustered feeling coming across you. Levi studied your features, clicking his tongue.

“Bend over the desk.”

“What?” You whispered, not sure if you heard your boss correctly. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. His intimidating glare pierced through you.

“Talking to that lame ass boyfriend of yours must have you goin deaf. I said bend over my desk.” Levi instructs, letting go of your chin once you catch his drift. You do as your told, bending over his desk. You are uncertain what he is planning to do, but the removal of your skirt gave you a pretty good idea. Your cheeks felt hot as your bare ass is now exposed to Levi’s viewing.

“Lace panties, huh? You planned on being put in this position later?” Levi chuckles, his digits playing with the strap of your thong. You bit your bottom lip, not knowing what to say. A hard smack to your bare ass caused you to release a moan.

“I asked you a question. It’s only polite to answer, brat.”

“Yes. It was for my boyfriend.” You confess in embarrassment for more reasons than one.

“Oh, I see. Your toxic little relationship is in need of fixing, but the only thing you have to offer is your pretty little pussy.” Levi analyzes, rubbing his hand on your ass before delivering another slap. You wince in pain, but you mentally screamed for more. You wanted Levi to continue spanking you.

“That’s not it, sir.” You mumbled. His hand landed down on your sore ass once more while the other hand finds refuge in your hair. He pulls it, tightly, bending your head back.

“What really gets me is this mouth of yours. I suggest you use it to tell the truth before I stuff it.” Levi growls lowly in your ear, letting go of your hair to return behind you.

Another slap was delivered. Little melodies of moans escaped your lips that you attempted to conceal. Levi did not comment on it as he proceed with the punishment. Your cunt dripped with your slick. It is begging to be touched, fucked, anything Levi desires really.

A few slaps and a very red ass later, Levi’s digits founder their way inside your soaked cunt. “Someone enjoyed themselves, hm?” He teased, curling his fingers in you. You shuffle a bit, enjoying the sensation he is giving you. The removal of his fingers made you whine in a needy tone.

“I did, Levi. Please fuck me.” You cry, wanting his cock already. He chuckled at your begging, his hand rubbing your red ass then hitting it again.

“On your knees. Now.” Levi demands. You happily oblige before him. He pats your head in approval. “Good girl. You do know how to listen.”

Levi begins unbuckling his black belt. You are practically foaming at the mouth as he slides the leather out of each loop. He sets it on the desk before proceeding to unbuckle his pants, releasing his hard cock for you to pleasure. Your eyes light up at the sight. The tip of his erection is at your lips, ready for you to move forward. Your tongue teases his sensitive head before you let each inch slide in-and-out of your saliva filled mouth.

“Yeah, like that, baby.” Levi praises as you deep throat his length. You choke some, but continue taking all of his cock. Your tongue spends time playing with the veins in his cock while his head relaxes in your throat.

“The cock hungry slut having a hard time deep throating all my cock?” Levi mocks as you pull it out to catch your breath. A string of saliva connected your lips and his cock together as your lust filled orbs met his.

“Not a chance.” You grin, placing his dick back in your mouth. Levi groans in delight as you repeat the same patterns as before. His cock twitches inside your mouth as pre-cum leaks from the tip and down your throat. You gladly swallow it as his cock becomes overwhelmed, releasing his semen onto your tongue. Not a drop was spilled as you milked his cock for all he had to offer.

Pulling away, Levi praises you again. “Such a good little slut you are. Time we give your pussy some attention, huh?”

“Yes, please, sir.” You beg, eagerly. He taps his desk.

“Bend over my desk.” He commands. Following orders, you bend over his desk like before. You arched your back so your ass and pussy is more accessible for Levi. He spreads your legs out more so your weeping cunt is fully exposed. The cold air sent chills down your spine. Levi is already hard again as he stares at your pussy.

Aligning himself, the tip of his cock enters your dripping hole, sliding in perfectly. You moan as he thrust a rough rhythm. His hips slap against your ass and his hands cling onto your hips. You tightly hang onto his desk as he pick up the pace. You sob out pleas for more.

“Better quiet down. Don’t want your coworkers hearing me fuck you like the whore you are now do we?”

You did not even care. You wanted Levi and you wanted him bad. Groans and profanities filled the room from you two as Levi hits all the right spots. You babble incoherent sentences as you start to climax again on Levi’s girth. Your walls clenched on his size and released when he re-enters himself. This does not stop Levi, though, as he chases after his own high.

“Already cumming again, slut?” Levi teases as he is slowly losing himself inside you. He hit your ass again while his dick twitches. “Ask permission next time.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” You cry out, not wanting him to stop. He pulls on your hair again, bending down to whisper in your ear.

“I’m going to fill you up so much that you have to hide it from your boyfriend.”

“Please Levi.” You beg, not even caring anymore. You wanted Levi. You have wanted him for a long time and the feeling is mutual on his end. That is why he hired you, after all.

Levi’s cock could not withstand the pressure anymore. Releasing into the depths of your cunt, he huffs profanities as every drop enters inside of you. You gladly take it as you breathe heavily. He finally pulls out, leaving you a cum filled mess. Giving your ass a gentle tap so you will get up.

“You are dismissed for the day.” Levi grumbled as he situated himself and you did the same. You straightened out your outfit and fixed your hair. You will fix your makeup in the restroom. You proceeded to exit your boss’ office when he called out to you. “Oh, and Y/N?”

“Yes?” You purred, looking over your shoulder.

“Let your boyfriend know you’re my slut now.”

©bakugosbratx

#bratx request #bratx writes #levi ackerman #levi smut #levi ackerman smut #daddy ackerman #snk levi #snk anime #aot smut #aot x reader #aot requests #levi x reader #levi attack on titan #levi x y/n #levi x fem!reader #attack on titan #aot imagines

522 notes · View notes

bloody-bee-tea · 3 years

Text

I’m seeing someone

One moment Jiang Cheng’s evening is going fine and in the next his heart is torn to shreds, and all it takes are three words.

“I’m seeing someone,” Nie Mingjue quietly says as he pushes his food around on his plate and Jiang Cheng freezes up completely.

“Oh,” he breathes out, unable to lift his eyes from Nie Mingjue’s senseless movement of his chopsticks.

“Is that—are you okay with that?” Nie Mingjue asks him hesitantly and Jiang Cheng flinches at the question.

Is he—how can Nie Mingjue even ask that of him?

Jiang Cheng tries to bite down the desperate laugh that wants to bubble up and he tries to silence his mind—of course this would happen, he’s never enough, it’s a wonder Nie Mingjue held out for so long anyway—before he plasters a smile to his face.

He just hopes Nie Mingjue doesn’t notice the tears in his eyes or the trembling of his lips.

Jiang Cheng shouldn’t have worried about that, he realizes when he tries to look at Nie Mingjue, because Nie Mingjue is not even looking at him. He’s keeping his eyes down as if he’s expecting Jiang Cheng to lash into him and Jiang Cheng wonders if that would be a more appropriate reaction to this revelation.

“Are you—” Jiang Cheng starts but of course his voice breaks half way through the sentence, so he swallows and tries again. “Are you going to break up with me?”

He’s not sure what answer he wants to hear here, but his hands shake in anticipation nonetheless.

“What? No of course not!” Nie Mingjue immediately rushes out and despite everything Jiang Cheng is relieved.

He’ll have to deal with the fact that Nie Mingjue found someone he loves more, but at least he’s not discarding Jiang Cheng entirely. At least he still wants him close.

“Okay then,” Jiang Cheng whispers, his eyes burning with tears and he finds that he’s not hungry at all anymore.

It had to happen sooner or later—everyone grows tired of Jiang Cheng after a while—but Jiang Cheng had thought they were doing well.

It hasn’t been long since he moved in with Nie Mingjue and he thought he was doing a decent job at supporting Nie Mingjue after his father was murdered but of course he was lacking somewhere.

He was always lacking something after all.

“Alright,” Nie Mingjue says just as quietly and it seems like he isn’t all that hungry anymore either, but they stay at the table, sitting in silence, until long after their food has gone cold.

~*~*~

The knowledge that Nie Mingjue is seeing someone else besides Jiang Cheng sits like a heavy weight in his stomach at all times of the day. There’s not a single moment where Jiang Cheng doesn’t feel like he’s being crushed under it and he wonders if this is really easier than simply breaking up with Nie Mingjue.

But when he thinks about that, thinks about his days without Nie Mingjue, it feels even worse than this. At least like this he still has part of him. It’s better than nothing.

And besides; Nie Mingjue was quick in his answer that he didn’t want to break up with Jiang Cheng. That has to mean something, right? Even if Jiang Cheng alone is no longer enough for him.

Jiang Cheng laughs at his own stupid, foolish thoughts, because of course it only means that Nie Mingjue got used to having him around, that he’s not ready for another big change in his life and Jiang Cheng is sure that he’s simply living on borrowed time here.

Nie Mingjue will realize soon enough that the other person can give him so much more, that Jiang Cheng is useless and a burden and then Jiang Cheng won’t even have him anymore.

It’s not something he’s looking forward to.

~*~*~

Nie Mingjue insists on telling him whenever he goes to meet the other person. Jiang Cheng wonders if he’s doing this on purpose to remind Jiang Cheng time and time again that he’s lacking, that he’s no longer enough to make Nie Mingjue happy, and whenever Nie Mingjue leans down and presses a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s head and then tells him that he’ll be back in two hours it feels like he’s cutting Jiang Cheng wide open.

And yet Jiang Cheng is always there when Nie Mingjue comes back.

He’s too weak to leave and protect himself.

~*~*~

“Hey, are you okay?” Nie Huaisang asks him on the rare occasion that Jiang Cheng agrees to meet with him and Jiang Cheng can’t help the bitter scoff he lets out at that.

“I don’t know,” he then admits in a rare burst of honesty, simply because he’s too tired to lie to Nie Huaisang.

He’s already lying to Nie Mingjue on a daily basis; every time Nie Mingjue asks him if he’s okay, Jiang Cheng lies straight to his face and he finds that he’s too exhausted to do the same to his friend.

“What’s wrong?” Nie Huaisang asks, and he has to know, right?

Surely he has to know that Nie Mingjue is cheating on him.

Is it even cheating if Jiang Cheng knows about it and kind of allows it to happen? Is there even a word for that?

“A-Cheng?” Nie Huaisang asks, the concern clear in his voice when Jiang Cheng doesn’t answer him and Jiang Cheng keeps his eyes on his hands.

“You know, right? That Mingjue is—is seeing someone?” he finally breathes out and it feels like Jiang Cheng’s entire being is bracing for impact.

“Of course I know,” Nie Huaisang immediately says and he sounds happy about it.

Jiang Cheng wants to burrow himself into the ground and never come out again.

“I introduced them,” Nie Huaisang says, and now his voice is proud.

He’s proud about ruining the best thing that ever happened to Jiang Cheng.

“I see,” Jiang Cheng breathes out and he’s itching with the need to get away, to scrub that knowledge out of his brain, but it’s there now and it already has its hooks in the most tender parts of Jiang Cheng.

Not even Nie Huaisang approves of him and Jiang Cheng thought they are friends.

“It’s helping, isn’t it?” Nie Huaisang asks and he doesn’t seem to notice that Jiang Cheng feels like the floor is crumbling under him. “Don’t you think da-ge looks so much better and happier lately?”

Jiang Cheng opens his mouth—he’s not sure if to scream or to answer Nie Huaisang—but no sound comes out.

It feels like he can’t breathe.

“I have to go,” he gets out with much difficulty and he doesn’t give Nie Huaisang enough time to answer. “Bye.”

Jiang Cheng isn’t proud of the fact that he’s running away from his only friend but if he stays he’s going to break down.

And that is something he can absolutely not do. He’s not strong enough to build himself up again afterwards.

~*~*~

Don’t you think da-ge looks so much better and happier lately?

The words rattle around Jiang Cheng’s brain ever since that day he met Nie Huaisang and he can’t make them shut up.

He noticed it too, lately, that Nie Mingjue seems to be in a better mood every week. There are still bad days, of course, so that new person is not a miracle worker, but overall Nie Mingjue does seem happier.

And doesn’t that hurt like hell.

Jiang Cheng wonders what it is he does with that other person that can be achieved in less than the two hours Nie Mingjue meets with them weekly but he finds that he can’t stomach to imagine anything.

The only thing he really can think of them doing is having sex and Jiang Cheng wouldn’t even be able to hold that against Nie Mingjue.

Jiang Cheng knows that his sex-drive is not quite as high as Nie Mingjue’s and while he never thought it to be a problem—Nie Mingjue certainly never said anything like that—maybe that’s all it is.

Maybe it’s just sex.

That—still wouldn’t make it okay, but that would at least be much easier to bear than to have to think about Nie Mingjue kissing someone else and telling them he loves them.

That one is the thought that hurts Jiang Cheng the most.

~*~*~

Jiang Cheng is on the couch, trying his best to look like he’s engrossed in his book, so that Nie Mingjue won’t want to disturb him and say goodbye to him.

It’s bad enough that he keeps a regular schedule with his—lover? Affair? Partner? Jiang Cheng still has no clue how to refer to that other person and he knows it shouldn’t bother him that much but it does—but he really doesn’t need to rub it into Jiang Cheng’s face.

It already feels like Jiang Cheng is poking at a still raw wound whenever he thinks about how Nie Mingjue might call that other person when he talks about them to his friends or Nie Huaisang. He doesn’t need Nie Mingjue to make it worse.

Lost in his thoughts, Jiang Cheng allowed his eyes to wander and Nie Mingjue takes it for the invitation is so very much was not meant to be.

“Bye,” he says as he leans down to kiss Jiang Cheng’s forehead, his lips lingering for a moment, and Jiang Cheng’s heart shrivels when he thinks about how Nie Mingjue is going to kiss someone else with them in a few minutes. “I’ll be back in two hours.”

“Can you—not tell me? When you go—do that?” Jiang Cheng croaks out and he’s surprised at his own bravery.

“What?” Nie Mingjue says and he jerks away from Jiang Cheng as if he slapped him.

It’s kind of unfair, Jiang Cheng thinks, and drops his gaze.

“I don’t—want to know,” he gets out before the tears choke him up and even without looking up at Nie Mingjue he can tell that he’s angry.

And he has every right to be. Jiang Cheng just ruined the delicate balance they were maintaining.

“What the hell, Wanyin? You said you are okay with this! You accepted it!” Nie Mingjue almost yells at him and Jiang Cheng closes his eyes.

He feels like he’s going to shatter if he even so much as breathes, but he knows it’s inevitable now. Jiang Cheng ruined it and Nie Mingjue will tell him to finally get lost.

Maybe it’s better that it all ends. Jiang Cheng is tired.

“How could I ever be okay with this?” Jiang Cheng asks him as he scrubs a hand over his face. “But I have to accept it now, don’t I?” A desperate laugh bubbles up from his throat. “There’s nothing else for me to do, after all,” he whispers as he leans over, trying to protect the remnants of his heart even though he knows it’s futile.

There’s nothing left to protect after this.

“So you don’t want me to be better? Is that it?” Nie Mingjue shoots back and he sounds angry now.

Jiang Cheng almost forgot that Nie Mingjue could get this angry, but right now it only fuels Jiang Cheng’s own anger. It’s better than the despair trying to swallow him whole.

“Well, if being with me is so fucking horrible to you, then maybe we should break up after all!” he yells back and his voice rings out in the living-room.

The silence that follows is almost deafening.

“What?” Nie Mingjue whispers and there’s confusion written all over his face. “Why is this about our relationship all of a sudden?”

“All of a sudden,” Jiang Cheng repeats and he clenches his teeth when his eyes start to burn, but this time he’s not strong enough to hold back the tears. “You’re literally about to go out to meet your—whatever they are to you. How is this not about our relationship if you need to date someone on the side?”

Jiang Cheng would like to pretend that he’s strong and that his voice didn’t break on that, but the last words almost crumble in his mouth. The only good thing about this is that there are enough tears flowing down his face that Nie Mingjue is just a blur.

At least he doesn’t have to see him clearly while Nie Mingjue breaks up with him.

“Date someone on the—Wanyin, what the hell are you talking about?” Nie Mingjue asks him and suddenly he’s close, so close, and he’s putting his hands on Jiang Cheng’s arms and it’s enough to break Jiang Cheng.

“Please don’t leave me,” he sobs out and fists his hands in Nie Mingjue’s shirt. “Please, whatever it is that they—I can change. I can do better, I can be whatever you need, just, please,” he begs and he’s too terrified by the prospect of losing Nie Mingjue to feel ashamed.

“My heart,” Nie Mingjue whispers as he pulls Jiang Cheng into his arms and it only makes Jiang Cheng cry harder.

He doesn’t know how long he spends in Nie Mingjue’s arms but when his sobs finally subside he’s exhausted and he feels very, very small.

“I don’t mean to trap you in this, to force you to stay with me,” Jiang Cheng still forces himself to say as he pushes Nie Mingjue away. “Don’t listen to me. Just—I need you to choose. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Wanyin, I’m seeing a therapist,” Nie Mingjue tells him and Jiang Cheng goes very still. “I’m not dating someone else and I’m not cheating on you. I’m going to therapy, once a week.”

The words don’t really make sense to Jiang Cheng, so he stays still, hoping that their true meaning will hit him sooner or later, but the words stay the same.

“What?” he gets out and Nie Mingjue pulls him down on the couch, tucking him into his side.

“I’m going to therapy once a week. A-Sang has been going for a while, even before our father was—before he died and he recommended her to me. I’ve been going to see her for a few weeks now,” Nie Mingjue explains, but Jiang Cheng can feel that he’s shaking.

Or maybe that’s Jiang Cheng himself.

“I don’t understand,” Jiang Cheng finally admits and Nie Mingjue crushes him to his chest.

“Did you think I was cheating on you all this time?” Nie Mingjue asks and Jiang Cheng blinks.

“You said you’re seeing someone. You couldn’t even meet my eyes,” he eventually tells him and Nie Mingjue freezes.

“You thought I was cheating on you from that day on?”

“Is it really cheating if you tell me about it, though?” Jiang Cheng wonders, because that is still bothering him to no end, that he doesn’t know how to define this.

“Wanyin!” Nie Mingjue sounds close to tears himself and it’s confusing enough that Jiang Cheng pulls away from him.

“What’s wrong?” Jiang Cheng wants to know, and he’s distantly aware that maybe the only one who isn’t right is him.

“You’re asking me that? Why didn’t you break up with me if you thought I was seeing someone else?”

“You said you didn’t want to,” Jiang Cheng whispers, remembering that dinner so clearly.

It was the last time his world had been whole and good.

“If you thought this the whole time—” Nie Mingjue trails off with a shake of his head. “How could you be okay with that?”

“I thought if I say I’m not—you would leave,” Jiang Cheng admits. “You were already—I already thought I wasn’t enough. If I didn’t allow you this, what would keep you at my side? At least like this I had some of you. I always knew that this day would come, after all. You’re too good, and I’m just—not,” he finishes weakly, unable to meet Nie Mingjue’s eyes.

His mind is still reeling but Jiang Cheng is aware that pointing out his own flaws right now might not be the best thing to do.

“Wanyin, you’re my entire heart and I love you,” Nie Mingjue tells him, pulling him in to give him a soft kiss. “How could I ever leave you?”

“It seems to be easy enough,” Jiang Cheng says, trying not to think about Wei Wuxian or his parents, or even his sister but it’s always hard.

“It’s not,” Nie Mingjue says with a shake of his head. “And I am not going to leave you. I love you and I can’t even imagine seeing someone else.”

“Except your therapist,” Jiang Cheng weakly says, aware that it’s much, much to early for a joke about this, but making inappropriate jokes is the only thing he knows how to do sometimes.

“Except her,” Nie Mingjue agrees and brushes a kiss over Jiang Cheng’s cheek. “My heart, I think—maybe you should go see someone, too,” Nie Mingjue haltingly says and Jiang Cheng jerks away from him.

His mother never spoke kindly of therapists.

“I—” can’t, he wants to say, but the words die in his throat.

It’s not like anyone is really stopping him anymore and it seems to be doing Nie Mingjue some good. And Nie Huaisang, too, given that he’s been going for a while now too apparently.

“I wouldn’t know where to start,” he finally admits, because he knows he’s broken enough to make anyone despair.

It’s still a wonder Nie Mingjue even looked at him twice.

“That’s not for you to know but for you and your therapist to work out together,” Nie Mingjue softly tells him and Jiang Cheng thinks that it sounds like the most terrifying thing he has ever heard.

It also sounds like something that might be possible, if he doesn’t have to do it alone.

“Would I be going to yours, too?” he asks, his voice thin and scared and Nie Mingjue shrugs.

“I don’t know. She wasn’t too happy to take me on as well, since she’s treating Huaisang already, but we can ask her. I’m sure one meeting will be okay. And if she says she can’t take you on, I bet she has a recommendation.”

“I don’t—I can’t go alone,” Jiang Cheng says, because he knows he could never be strong enough to make that first step.

“I’ll accompany you to the first meeting,” Nie Mingjue agrees. “But she might kick me out halfway through,” he then adds with a small smile and while that is still a terrifying prospect, it also makes sense.

“Not now,” Jiang Cheng finally says, and while he sees the regret and worry on Nie Mingjue’s face, Jiang Cheng is not strong enough to see a therapist immediately. Or even this week. “Until half an hour ago I thought you were dating someone else. I need—some time first,” Jiang Cheng weakly finishes and understanding washes over Nie Mingjue’s face.

“Of course,” he agrees immediately and pulls Jiang Cheng back into his arms. “I love you. I wouldn’t cheat on you,” he says, and Jiang Cheng wonders how often he has to hear this before he can accept that these last weeks were just a huge misunderstanding.

“I love you,” Jiang Cheng gives back and for the first time since Nie Mingjue told him he’s seeing someone those words don’t cut him open.

Jiang Cheng is still scared and confused and overwhelmed, but Nie Mingjue is a warm solid presence at his side and Jiang Cheng does breathe easier now that he knows that he’s not living on borrowed time here and that Nie Mingjue loves him still.

For today, that is enough.

And no matter what the next day, or even the next week brings, Jiang Cheng thinks that he might just be able to do it if he has Nie Mingjue by his side.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #mingcheng #the untamed #mdzs #modern au #established relationship #misunderstanding #angst #cuddling and snuggling #hurt/comfort #insecurity #no break-up #self-worth issues #no cheating

239 notes · View notes

imagination-is-key-in-my-world · 3 years

Text

Awkward Encounters

Authors Note: At first, I was going to write this as the reader being in Tessa’s perspective but then I thought that it would be too much of a copyright. There may be some similarities to the story but I have written Tessa in as a separate party. Tessa is still with Noah in this. Also, I will be referencing parts from both the movie and the novels. In this particular fanfiction Tristan is a girl, like the movie.

Summary: You are a freshman at college and your life there started pretty normally. Your best friend is Tristan who is dating Steph who is roommates with Tessa. That was until you went to a party with Tristan and the girls. You had no idea that the mysterious British boy was going to intervene when you come face to face with the Bitch that is Molly.

Warning: Swearing

Pairing: Reader x Hardin Scott

Word Count: 4,423

“Come on Tristan, I told you.” I moan. “I can’t go to another party; I am still recovering from the last one.” I cling to a cold compress, trying my best to shield my eyes from the light that is seeping in through the open door.

Tristan threw a pack of Ibuprofen onto my lap that she snooped around in my bag for. “If it’s that bad, take one of these and get your butt out of that bed.” I groan at the impact from the small box just for the effect. “Don’t be a baby and get up.”

I roll over on the bed to face the wall. “Can’t you just go with Steph?”

“No!” She abruptly spat out. “I want to go with you. Steph is bringing Tessa and I don’t want to show up alone.”

“But you will be with her when you’re there. What’s the point in me getting out of this lovely cocoon that I have made, just to walk you to the party?”

Tristan had her head bent over, pulling her hair into a high ponytail on the top of her head. “You know that what you just said was the whole point.” She sighed. “Everyone is going to stare at me when I walk in there all on my lonesome.”

I eyed the short revealing dress that she was pulling onto her petite and envious body. “You know everyone will be staring at you no matter what if you wear that.” I laugh. “Those legs are going to be the headliner for that party.”

Tristan winked at me and continued adding more accessories to her ever-growing ensemble. “That my dear naïve British friend is the goal of this outfit.” She dropped to her knees faster than I could pry open the antibiotic wrapper. Gripping onto my hand she pulled me away from my mission to rid the world of the swirling furniture before my very eyes. “Y/N, if you do not go, I will literally never talk to you ever again.”

I raised my eyebrow at the sight before me. “Is that a promise.” I bravely say.

“Y/N! Please!”

“Fine alright. Give me five minutes.” I surrender, using every ounce of strength that I had left to lift myself from my comfy nest. “But you owe me, big time.” Tristan’s arms were around my neck faster than I could respond. Her soft lips that I am sure Steph adores, pressed against my forehead.

“I love you so much Miss Y/L/N!” She squealed.

I let out a stiff laugh as I saunter off to the bathroom to sort whatever state I currently appeared to be in.

***

“You know, when you said that this was going to be a cool night for us both? When did I factor into the equation?” I scoff, lifting the red solo cup to my lips. The bitter taste made my stomach curl, but what was worse was not drinking around all these over-the-top drunk people.

Tristan was straddling Steph on the sofa by the side of me. These two did not understand the true definition of PDA and why some people may find it uncomfortable. Including myself.

I inch further down the sofa that was unsurprisingly very sticky. If I wasn’t feeling queasy when I turned up, I certainly felt it now. I try to distract myself from the fact that I had to peel my legs from the leather material just to cross them. The sound was very unflattering.

“Why are you in my seat?” I roll my eyes the minute I recognised the irritating voice that filled me with angst and hatred from across the room. Molly Samuels. Her whole presence just irritates me, and it appears that I am not the only one with this response. I gaze over to my left to see Tessa shaking her head at the general distaste she had for the girl. I lift my cup up to Tessa who shyly mimics. ‘To stuck up bitches, ay?’ I say to myself, quietly so that she couldn’t hear.

Molly pushed Zed Evans and his girlfriend for the night out of her shitty throne causing his date to land hard on her arse. I am sure it wasn’t the first time that Molly has done this to declare her ‘power’ to the whole room. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” The blonde cried as Zed attempted to pick her up from the floor which was soaked in alcohol.

“Does this brat literally think she can talk to me right now?” Molly scoffed, flicking her hair over her shoulder. Turning to her so-called friends for approval of her comment and actions.

“What did you just call me?” The poor young girl shook off Zed’s protective arm and stepped right in front of Molly’s nose. Probably not the best move, but I have always found that Molly needed taking down a peg or two.

“You heard me, loud and clear” She popped her tongue on the letter ‘l’ in loud. “A little slutty brat who thinks for a second that Zed will call her back after he fucks her tonight.” Molly’s teeth were snarling almost like a wild animal.

“At least I’m not a bitchy whore who thinks that everyone here is her friend.” There were a couple ‘ohs’ and ‘ahs’ almost as if we were at a panto and not a college party after Zed’s girl’s response.

The second Molly let the words register her hand was leaving that poor girl’s cheek, along with a bright red handprint in its place.

“What the fuck, Molly!” I heard the words clear as day, but I never in a million years imagined that they would come from my mouth. But there I was, standing right in front of Molly, shielding the young girl from another blast to the face.

I could hear people whispering behind my back. ‘What is she doing?’ ‘Is she stupid or something?’ ‘Does she not know what Molly is like?’ Despite being close friends with Tristan, I never would have expected her to step up to defend me, especially when Molly Samuels was involved. She stayed on Steph’s lap; eyes bugged open. Utterly frozen.

“Wow Y/N? Get involved in other people’s business much? Just because your life is too sad, you feel like you can insert yourself into other people’s.” I roll my eyes at her pathetic attempt to rattle me. “You’re just a sad little virgin that no body wants around. Tristan only invited you tonight for her own benefit. Just look around, you don’t fit in here.”

I stay silent. I may have only spoken up once tonight, but that was enough for me. Frat parties are my least favourite place to be. The only reason I came here tonight was for Tristan. I should have left the minute she started making out with the red-haired beauty.

“Cat got your tongue now, bitch.” Molly’s face was inches from mine and I choked on the strong aroma of alcohol on her breath. “Oh, wait I forgot, the girl doesn’t own a backbone.” There were a few stifled laughs here and there. Zed stayed silent, as did Tristan and Steph. None of them making the effort to stand up for me. “Let me guess. Tristan batted her big eyes at you and begged you to come tonight, didn’t she? Then ditched you the moment someone prettier came into the picture.”

I gulp back the bile that I knew had risen to the back of my throat. “Why don’t you go back to your dorm. Oh, better yet, get on a fucking plane and fly back to shitty England. We could only get lucky and hope the thing crashes with you inside it.”

“That’s enough Molly!” The voice behind me held a British twang similar to my own. A voice I had only heard about but never actually seen. The bad boy, Hardin Scott.

Hardin Scott was attractive. Since I got here, I knew he was the talk of the college. Everybody knew who he was and that he wasn’t good news. His white shirt displayed his various tattoos clearly through the thin and tight fabric. His black hair was pushed back to show his piercing eyes and anger set eyebrows. His eyes never left Molly who was stood behind me.

“Oh, Hardin you know I am only messing with the virgin.” She forces a small laugh. “It’s not like I can control the planes is it.” Her head tilts to the side as her gaze locks onto mine, only to intimidate. “I mean I wish I could.” She muttered so that only the people stood around her could hear.

“Do you ever know when to stop!” Hardin barks, not acknowledging me physically. “Do you ever think that you’re the one that people don’t want around?” He questions, moving slowly across the room. I hadn’t noticed but the volume of the once booming music had been lowered to a slight hum in the background.

Hardin was now stood right beside me glaring down at Molly who mimicked his stance. “Ding Ding. Come on guys let’s just drop it!” Nate calls over when he noticed their glares on each other were far from breaking.

Molly was the first to move. “You’re right Nate.” She coos. “Let’s play a game.” She scans the room of her so-called posy who all appeared to be done with her shit for the night. “It’s Friday night. We need to play a game. I will even let the little virgin here play along, too.”

I am very aware that all the eyes were now back on me.

This wasn’t something that I wanted to be a part of. It took me what felt like an eternity to move my feet across the room to where Tristan was sitting. “I am going to head back to the dorms.” I declare quietly to her, but I can tell that they are all listening.

“No please stay, it won’t be the same if you go.” Tristan reaches for my hand which I pull away.

I don’t know why I am letting Molly’s words sink in so much. Everybody who knows her knows that she is full of herself and couldn’t give a shit who she hurts.

“No, it’s late.” It was only nine. “And I have assignments that are due.” I lie, they are all finished. “I’ll see you back at the dorm.”

I start towards the door but I can hear Tristan calling after me to stay.

As I reach the front door to the frat house, I hear Molly’s voice loud and clear. “So, Hardin truth or dare?”

***

The walk back to the dorms was anything but peaceful. The cars were loud and honking at me as they passed. Classy.

I reach for my phone in my bag. I could do with tuning out the world for this half hour walk back in the dark. But my fingers only find a vibrant red lipstick that I couldn’t pull off in a million years.

I stop dead in my tracks. This was Steph’s bag; I grabbed the wrong one during my never-ending embarrassment.

I couldn’t go back, but I couldn’t go further either. Where was I supposed to go, Steph’s key wasn’t in here so it’s not like I could sleep in her room for the night. No cash, key or phone meant that I had no other choice. I had to suck it up and go back.

“Fuuuck!” I shout, not caring that I startled an elderly woman who was placing a rubbish bag in her bin just outside her front door.

“Not a very ladylike thing to say.” I hear a mocking chuckle behind me causing me to jump out of my skin.

When I turn around, I am greeted by the tall British bad boy covered in ink standing about 6 foot in front of me.

His head cocks to the side when I don’t answer him. “You don’t say much, do you?” My eyes scan over his attire, black ripped jeans, white top, and a jet-black leather jacket. “But you do stare a lot, don’t you?” That British chuckle makes it’s second appearance tonight.

“What do you want?” I blurt out, shaking my head at the fact that I was indeed caught staring at the boy.

He steps a little closer to me, closing the gap between us ever so slowly. I watch in amazement at how sexy he makes walking look. “You left this at the party.” I hadn’t realised that he had extended his hand to reveal a clutch bag. My clutch bag.

“Oh!” I speak. “Thanks.” I take the bag from him and prepare myself for the walk back.

“Don’t take any notice of Molly. She is a bitch.”

“Yep.” I chip in, turning to walk back towards the college dorm rooms.

I only get a few steps ahead when I feel a cold sensation wrap around my bare arm. Why the fuck didn’t I bring a coat? I gaze down at the hand that is pressed to my skin. “Where are you going?” He softly says. His tone and action were not at all forceful but something about him made me shiver with fear deep inside the pit of my stomach. I was warned about Hardin Scott. Tristan said that he wasn’t exactly good news around her group of friends. Acting with his fists before connecting his words, that’s what she said at least.

“H-Home.” I stutter, half from the interaction, half from how fucking cold it was. I straighten up. “I am going home.”

“Alone?” He jumps in straight away.

I don’t answer. I just look back at his hand around my arm.

“S-sorry.” He stutters, removing his hand from my arm. “It’s just it’s a long way back to the dorms and it is late.”

I shrug my shoulders at his declaration. “I know.” I simply say and start to walk again but I am blocked by the gorgeous boy standing in front of me. “Oh fuck, you’re not going to kill me, are you?”

“No of course not!” He blurts.

“Good! Now could you” I gesture to the fact that he is stood directly in my path. He catches on to my hint and steps aside.

“You’re not going to walk there alone, are you?” His voice sounding desperate.

I spin and mockingly look around for people, lifting my hand to shield my eyes as I continue my search. This provokes a choked sigh from Hardin. Once I am satisfied with my ‘search’ I say “yep” and continue to walk.

“But it is late.” He chimes in again walking backwards trying desperately not to break my gaze as I try desperately to avoid his. “And you’re alone.”

“Yes, we have established this.” I mock, glaring at the stoned pavement or sidewalk ahead of me.

Hardin reaches both hands out in front of himself creating a wall which stops me from taking another step. “What is your problem?”

I take a step back, alarmed at his outburst. “My problem. You’re the one who has continuously blocked my way for the past ten minutes.” I bark. I try to move around him but he doesn’t budge, copying my actions to stay ahead of me.

“I am trying to offer my services.” Hardin exclaimed but then scowled at his choice of words. I too have a hard time accepting the word ‘services.’ Just as I go to argue he opens his mouth. “Fuck that’s not what I meant to say.” His hands instantly dart to push his hair back out of his face. A nervous tick I assume. What did he have to be nervous about? He is the one stalking after college girls at half 9 at night.

“Look can we start over?” He offers shoving his hands into his jacket. My arms promptly raise to cover my bare arms where goosebumps have started to form. Why didn’t I bring a jacket? “Could I possibly walk you back to the dorms?” His eyes dropped to the ground to stare at a pebble that he toyed with his shoe. Was he anxious?

“Why?” I question fairly quickly.

“I just want to make sure that you get back safe!” His tone wasn’t very friendly. I cock my head to one side. “Sorry, that came out bad.” His tone softening. “I just didn’t like the way that Molly spoke to you earlier and I also hate the fact that you would be walking back in this sketchy neighbourhood alone.”

“Fine.”

***

We walk all the way back to the dorms in silence. Hardin looked uncomfortable the entire time as if he were being forced to be here. I sure as hell did not make him.

I pull the key from my bag and slot it into the lock on the door. Pushing the door slightly open I stand with my arms still draped across my shivering body in the doorway. “Well, thanks for walking me back and bringing me my bag.”

Hardin didn’t budge. His eyes were locked on my body, traveling from my legs to my face. His face turned a shade of white when his eyes caught up to mine. “Fuck!” He announced.

“What!” I jump at his sudden change in demeaner.

“Your lips.” He gestures to my trembling lips that haven’t stopped shaking since I stepped outside of the frat house. “They are fucking blue!” Panic surges over him as he rakes his hands through his hair. “Why didn’t you say you were cold?” He started passing back and fourth in front of me.

“There wasn’t much you could do.” I counter. “My own stupid fault for not bringing a coat.”

I walk inside the room and grab a jacket and throw it on over my shaking body. Hardin enters after me and grabs my hand carefully. “Fuck lot that will do.” He picks up a towel and drags me back down the hallway.

I try to pull my arm back but it is no use. “Where the hell are you taking me?” I say a little too loud. Silently cursing myself if I may have woken up any of the other students living down this dorm.

“The showers now come on.” He tugs a little harder as his feet guide me towards the shared bathroom just a few floors down from my own.

As we reach the bathroom, Hardin throws the towel over the railing and reaches in to turn on the water. I couldn’t help but watch his every move. “Get in!” He cries. Gesturing to the box that was filling with tempting hot steam.

I hesitate. “Y/N, get in the fucking shower.” I jump, not at his tone. But at the fact that he used my name. How did he even know it? Oh right, he was at the party when Molly was insulting me. “If you don’t start undressing now, I will have to start doing it for you.”

I raise an eyebrow but decline his offer, stepping into the box and pulling the curtain across to shield my naked body.

***

Hardin was right, I needed that shower. I hadn’t realised how cold I had gotten from that walk home. I stood in that shower for what felt like half the evening.

I shut off the water and begin to pull the curtain slightly across so that I could reach for the towel that Hardin had placed on the rail when Hardin’s hand slips through holding the towel between his fingers.

“Thanks.” I mutter, draping it around my soaking body.

I step out to find that Hardin’s hair has dropped and started to stick to his forehead in places from the steam. His eyes dart up and down my body, quietly.

I am the first one to break the silence as we stand there in the shared bathroom. “So, I should um, probably get back to my room.”

I watch as Hardin lets my words break him from his still stance. “Yeah, um, after you.” He holds his arm out and follows me out of the bathroom. Something has shifted in Hardin. Tonight, I have seen him; angry, intimidating, shy, solemness and lost for words. It was a lot to take in during a short period of time.

I open the dorm door and step inside. When I hear the door shut, I jump and almost drop the towel. “Shit, sorry I didn’t mean for the door to shut so loudly.” He curses under his breath.

“It’s okay.” I mutter. I cling to the towel as I stare back at Hardin who hasn’t moved or made any effort to leave.

“Y/N?” Hardin’s voice softer than ever tonight, bringing my eyes to meet his. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“What do you mean?” My words coming out slowly. His head dropped to face the floor. Was he trying to count the flecks of glitter on the carpet from Tristan’s body butter or something?

“Why didn’t you say that you were cold?” I roll my eyes, this again. Crossing my arms over my stomach.

“Like I said, there wasn’t anything you could have-”

“I could have given you my jacket.” He interjects. Taking a step closer to me. His body was merely a foot away from mine.

“But then you would have been the one with the blue lips.” I counter. Tilting my head to the side in a modest challenging manner.

This stirred something within Hardin, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I know that he isn’t used to a woman not agreeing with every word that comes out of his mouth.

I suddenly shake my head as I feel a slight chill spread up my back. I am still in my towel and now I am very much aware of that. Quickly I turn away from his locked-on gaze.

“Can I have some privacy please.” I mumble, not able to turn around to face him. “I need to, uh, get changed.” I add.

Hardin lets out a small grunt but eventually I do hear the click of my dorm-room door close. I don’t know why but I feel a shed of disappointment at the fact that he listened and actually left.

It takes my hands what feels like hours to release the tight grip that I held on to the towel. Allowing it to fall onto the floor.

“You know what-” I hear the click of the door and his voice fill my ears. I jump from my spot in the middle of the room. He doesn’t finish the sentence, instead Hardin slams the door behind him. “Fuck!” His eyes firm but glued on my body.

I quickly try to grab the towel up off the floor, but it is no use. Hardin instantly placed his foot over the soggy material. “Don’t.” He lets that one word fall from his lips as he slowly continues to decrease the distance between us.

“Hardin!” I shout. “Give-” I can’t finish my argument as I find his finger is placed over the top of my lips.

Hardin doesn’t speak, he just shakes his head. His soft hand moves from my lips and trails off to my cheek, holding me in place. My eyes locked onto his own, frozen in place. I watch as his eyes bounce from my own to my lips, seeking permission. His other hand snaked its way around and laid itself on the small of my back, pulling my naked body closer to his.

I was completely thrown off by the audacity of my body responding to his touch, bringing me to him. Everything happened in slow motion from the second we were back in my room. I knew that Hardin was trouble, everybody did. But no one actually prepares you for a moment like this. Where you are stood in front of a gorgeous guy whose whole attention you own. Did I say he was gorgeous?

I shake my head breaking the eye contact trance I was in. “Har-”

“You’re so beautiful.” He interrupts, breaking right through the barrier I was desperately trying to build. Correction, he shattered the wall to pieces and I find myself pushing my lips aggressively against his, hungry for the contact.

It takes him a second to return the haste in my actions within his own. Moving his lips to mimic the speed that I had set for him. It took no time at all for that jacket that he kept holding over me for not taking since we got back to the room to be thrown onto the floor, revealing the crisp white T-shirt underneath.

His hand wandered lower to lay slightly above my bare arse. While my hands slithered up underneath his shirt. Desperate to feel the skin underneath and to trace the ink that it held. The hand that rested on my cheek now held tightly to the back of my neck making it impossible to break the kiss, not that I wanted to.

I could stay like this forever, kissing Hardin has awoken something inside me that I didn’t even know existed. This overwhelming hunger for his contact. I tug a little on the hair on the back of his head which in response summoned a deep growl from Hardin that I didn’t think I was prepared to hear. Any sense of doubt that we should stop kissing left my mind the second I heard that sound.

“Y/N? You would not believe what you missed after-” Tristan stood in the open doorway, her mouth held open just as wide.

Fuck. I jump back from Hardin and scramble for the towel, concealing my naked form from my roommate. I look over to Hardin who didn’t look at all affected by the events in the last ten seconds.

“I can tell your busy so I will just, yeah.” Tristan steps back and shuts the door behind her.

I run into the closet and quickly throw on a set of underwear and a long-oversized shirt that came down to lie just beneath my arse. “I think it’s about time I start locking that door.” I joke as I step through the closet door.

My eyes roam the room for the handsome boy I was just making out with only to be greeted with an empty room. My shoulders fall, “I guess that’s goodbye.” I mumble, trying my best to hold myself together. Locking the door before falling onto my bed.

Part 2?

262 notes · View notes

lostinthewiind · 3 years

Note

I don’t know if you write for them as well, but could I request a poly fic for Reki, Langa and the reader and maybe them explaining them explaining their relationship to Langas and/or Rekis mom after being caught cuddling together? Thank you in advance and sorry, if you don’t write for them.

Polyamorous Relationship w/ Reki & Langa: Three's a Crowd

A/N: my first request for Reki and Langa! I'm so excited because I love those boys with my whole heart; they deserve the world! So excited to write this!

Rating: PG13

Warnings: use of the term "slut", complex teenage relationships/sexuality discussed

Flopping over onto your back on the bed, you stretched your arms and legs out and let out a loud yawn. You, Reki, and Langa had been working on homework ever since the three of you had arrived at Langa's house after school and you were starting to get mentally exhausted.

"I'm done!" you exclaimed, shutting your eyes and exhaling.

Peeking at you from where he was lying on the floor, Reki cocked a brow at you. "You finished all of it?"

"No." You shook your head. "I'm just done. My brain hurts. If I do any more I think I might die."

"Good enough for me!" Reki closed his textbook as well and stopped doing his homework too.

Sighing from his spot at his desk, Langa turned in his desk chair to face the two of you. "We have to have this done for tomorrow. You do know that, right?"

"Yes, obviously." You rolled your eyes. "I'm going to do the rest later. I just need a break."

"Exactly. Break time!" Reki stood up from the floor and promptly fell down on top of you on Langa's bed, crushing you and pushing the air out of your lungs in the process. "I'll finish later too."

Langa scoffed. "Y/N I believe . . . but Reki, we all know you'll forget about it tonight and end up scrambling to finish as the teacher goes around collecting it tomorrow morning."

"He does have a point," you wheezed out, trying your hardest to push Reki off of your stomach.

Reki frowned and stuck his bottom lip out dramatically. "You guys are so mean to me." He adjusted himself on top of you so his face was hovering right above yours. "I expected this from Langa, but you, Y/N? I thought you loved me."

You forced out a laugh as you cupped his face with your hands. "I do love you, but that doesn't mean you don't have faults, Reki. I love you despite your faults, and one of your faults is procrastination."

He furrowed his brows, his face scrunching up in thought. "I can't tell if that was a compliment or not."

"The gist was that you're loved," Langa muttered as he continued working away at the homework one question at a time, trying his best to ignore the two of you.

Reki's eyes lit up at that. "Well, good!" He smiled as he cupped your face with his hands in return and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

Immediately, your cheeks turned red and you averted his gaze. Things between the three of you were still relatively new and you were still working out how a relationship with three people worked, exactly. The fact that neither one of you had ever really had a serious relationship before only made things more complicated.

Noticing your reaction, Reki brushed the pads of his thumbs over your cheeks. "Sorry," he apologized. "I should have asked before I kissed you."

"No, it's okay," you assured him, a soft smile on your face as you did so. "I'm just not used to it yet, especially since our relationship isn't exactly . . . normal."

"I know." Reki hugged you tight and buried his face in your neck, pressing a soft kiss to the skin there. "Did you tell your parents yet?"

You shook your head as your heart began to pound nervously. "No. Did you?"

"Not yet," he mumbled into your neck. "Every time I try to, one of my siblings is around and I abort mission."

Craning your neck, you looked over at Langa. "Did you tell your mom yet, Langa?"

Only half-listening to the conversation, Langa perked at his name but tilted his head quizzically at the inquiry. "Did I tell my mom what?"

"About us," Reki clarified. "The three of us being together."

"Oh." He seemed to grow nervous about the topic as well. "Not yet. Soon."

Finally rolling off of you, Reki laid on his back and pulled you into his side, his arm wrapped around you and your head resting on his chest. "If only we were adults and didn't have to worry about the approval of our parents."

"Yeah," Langa agreed, thoroughly distracted from his homework now, his mind running a mile a minute while he thought about the current predicament. The three of you had to be careful when you went over to each others' houses, trying your best to convince everyone that you were just close friends and nothing more.

Cuddling and kissing were usually reserved for late nights when the sun went down, the lights were turned off, and the three of you hid behind the excuse of watching a movie together. Funnily enough, watching a movie together and cuddling had been how the three of you had discovered your feelings for one another.

"Speaking of that, you two should be careful." Langa gestured to the way you and Reki were holding each other on his bed. "What if my mom walks in?"

"Yeah, you're right," Reki sighed. "I just feel like we never get to be together how we want . . . we're worried about what our parents will think at home and worried about what everyone else will think at school. Nevermind the fact that Langa and I are gay, or, bisexual I guess . . . but polyamory? We'd never hear the end of it."

You exhaled slowly, cuddling closer to Reki. "They'd probably call me a slut for having two boyfriends."

Standing from his chair, Langa walked over to the bed and laid down with you and Reki, forgetting about all of his usual paranoid worries for the time being. "You're not a slut," he told you, wrapping his arms around you as well. "And who cares what anyone else thinks anyway, right? As long as we're happy and we're not hurting anyone else, that's all that matters."

Relishing in the feeling of having your two favourite people on either side of you, you started feeling the stress fade away and your body relax from its usual tense state. "I wish we could stay like this forever."

Before either Reki or Langa had the chance to respond, the bedroom door suddenly swung open and Langa's mom poked her head into the room. "Langa, are you friends staying for dinner or-" She stopped talking as soon as she saw the three of you tangled up in one another on the bed.

Immediately, the three of you jumped away from each other, the stress that had just left filling your body once more. Completely caught off guard since Langa's mom usually knocked first before opening the door, neither one of you knew how to explain away what she had just seen.

"M-mom!" Langa was standing on the opposite side of the room now while you and Reki stood on either side of the bed. "Why didn't you knock?"

Langa's mom eyed the three of you, quickly noticing the flushed faces and obvious nerves radiating off of you. Even if she hadn't thought anything of what she had seen at first, she definitely suspected something now with how the three of you were acting.

"I apologize," she said, pushing the door open all the way and standing in the doorway. "Langa, dear, do you have something you want to tell me?"

Fiddling nervously with his fingers, Langa turned to look at you and Reki, trying to gauge your reactions and decide whether he should tell the truth or try to pull off some sort of lie; but both you and Reki were completely useless as you stared down at the floor and shifted anxiously.

"Langa?" His mom prompted once more.

Finally meeting his mother's gaze, Langa drew in a deep breath. "Can you promise not to be mad?"

Langa's mother quirked a brow quizzically. "You're starting to worry me, honey. Just tell me what's got you so flustered."

"Well . . . u-um," Langa stumbled over his words, completely unsure how he was supposed to just come out and say it. "Well, Mom . . . Reki, Y/N, and I aren't . . . aren't just friends."

Langa's mother folded her arms over her chest and took a minute to process what she had just heard. "I'm sorry, I don't think I understand what you're trying to tell me."

Deciding to rescue Langa from having to ride solo on this, you stepped over to him and took his hand in yours. "Mrs. Hasegawa, Langa and I are dating," you told her.

"Oh, I see." Langa's mom's face flashed with understanding, but then she looked over at Reki, no doubt wondering how he fit into all of this.

"And I'm dating Y/N." Reki stood on the other side of you.

Langa nodded. "And I'm also dating Reki."

The understanding that had once been visible on Langa's mom's face had completely vanished after the three of you had elaborated. "S-so . . ." She paused as she tried to fit all the pieces together in her head. "So the three of you are all dating each other? Is that right?"

"Y-yes," Langa confirmed. "We know people will think it's weird but it's just what makes us happy and I just . . . just please don't be mad."

"Mad?" Langa's mother seemed offended at the insinuation that she could ever be mad at her son for, for lack of a better term, coming out to her more or less. "Oh, dear, I could never be mad at you for who you love."

Before either of you had the chance to process how well that conversation had just gone, Langa's mother was striding over to the three of you and pulling you all into a hug. "All that matters is that you're happy and healthy," she told Langa before looking to you and Reki. "And the same goes for the two of you. I don't know what your parents have said about this, but just remember that being happy and healthy is all that matters."

"Y-you're really okay with this?" Happy tears began to well in Langa's eyes. It was clear that he was overjoyed and shocked that his mother had been so accepting so easily.

Placing her hands on her son's face, Langa's mother smiled at him. "Of course, I am. Is it a little confusing for me? Sure. Do I know much about being in a polyamorous relationship? No. But if the three of you have discovered that this is what makes you happy, as I'm sure you have since you're all old enough to make your own decisions and know what's best for you, then I'm happy as well."

"Thank you!" Langa hugged his mom tightly, silent sobs escaping him as all the worry he had been carrying around for weeks dissipated and he was flooded with relief.

"I'll always love you, no matter what," Langa's mom told him as she glanced at you and Reki, who were starting to tear up as well. "Do your parents know as well?"

You and Reki shook your heads. "No, not yet," you said in unison.

"Well, I hope they are understanding," she told you. "And just know that the three of you are always welcome here."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hasegawa." Reki wrapped his arms around you and held you tight as you cried as well. "Really, thank you so much. We were all scared that everyone would think we were weird or gross."

"People are often scared of things that they think are different," Langa's mom explained to the three of you. "But that doesn't mean there is anything wrong with being different. I won't lie and say that everyone will be understanding, but the world is changing . . . don't assume the worst from people just yet; they might surprise you."

With that, Langa let go of his mother and engulfed you and Reki in a hug. Finally, the three of you had safe space where you could be together and not worry about judgmental people looking in on your relationship.

Overjoyed and unable to control his excitement, Reki planted kisses on both you and Langa—marking the first time either of you had dared show affection in front of someone outside of the relationship.

Hopefully, the first of many.

#sk8 the infinity #SK8 #lostinthewiind #fluff #polyamorous relationship with reki and langa #kyan reki #hasegawa langa #langa #reki #reader insert #fic request #x reader #polyamory #polyamorous relationships

195 notes · View notes

cruelfeline · 4 years

Text

In light of all that we’ve learned with this most wonderful final season, some people have asked me to reassess Hordak’s backstory monologue. To see how Hordak’s narrative fits with what we now know about his home. To try to discern exactly what its discrepancies are, and why.

I’m going to do that! But before I do, I would remind everyone: this is a little difficult to fully untangle because, given that Hordak is not a main character and thus does not have the focus that we’d like, we really don’t know a whole lot about the Horde in terms of function, social roles, and general history. So this is going to be very much limited by what I can glean from exactly what the show gives us.

That said, it’ll hopefully still be interesting. So!

During season three, after recovering from his syncopal episode, Hordak describes to Entrapta what he is, what he was, and how he came to be on Etheria. He describes himself as a defective clone who, once upon a time, was the top general in the galactic Horde. When his defect became too much of a burden, he was apparently demoted, sent to the front lines to fight until death, and arrived on Etheria by way of unexplained portal.

This is what Hordak tells us, and, as far as we know, he’s not lying. Hordak, as portrayed in the show, is a very honest person, both in his own actions and in the actions he expects of others. He greatly dislikes deception and does not appear skillfully capable of it himself (save for that one time). Knowing this, we generally have to assume that, in his own mind, what Hordak is saying is true.

So. What gives, right?

After all, once we see the galactic Horde in action, we learn that it is a played-straight, honest-to-the-gods cult. There’s nothing distinctly military about it. It’s not a bigger, grander version of Hordak’s Etherian Horde.

It is a cult with a god-brother-creator at the helm, commanding countless identical acolytes who live their lives in slavish devotion to their master. There do not appear to be any ranks. We hear nothing about any generals, let alone a “top general.” There doesn’t even appear to be a need for anything like that, because Prime doesn’t seem to really delegate to his brothers in a way that singles them out or relies on real autonomy from them.

He can, after all, read their minds at will and slip into their bodies whenever he fancies. If he needs to make a decision about a battle on a planet at the other edge of the galaxy, he can just take over a body on that planet and make said decision himself. Or, at the very least, enter the relevant clone’s mind and influence the decision as needed. He doesn’t need, and certainly doesn’t appear to tolerate, clones taking their own initiative.

So, again: what gives? What does Hordak mean by “top general”? Why does he think he has this elevated role when we can see that Prime considers all of his clones the equivalent of faceless bodies to be used a he likes?

Well, while we will likely never know the full truth, given the lack of Horde background detail, we can safely assume some things from what canon shows us.

Namely that, while all clones appear indistinguishable and do not seem to have named rank, there are definitely clone positions that work more closely with Prime than others. His attendants are one example. Those who are in his throne room feeding him information while he is working are another. (Hordak actually appears to be one of these, at least while Prime is trying to hack the Heart of Etheria, when Entrapta is captured.) And then, of course, there are the chosen vessels that will one day house Prime’s consciousness.

All of these positions can likely be occupied by any clone, with bodies switched out as needed (likely what happened when Hordak got sick). I doubt that individual clones have any sort of real rank. Prime knows this. Hordak and his brothers, I suspect, may not fully understand it.

Rather, I would not be surprised if Hordak, deceived and indoctrinated into believing things about himself and about Prime that are not true, misinterprets the nature of his purpose and the truth of his relationship with his Brother. He believes that, fulfilling whatever role he was fulfilling for Prime, he was a general, an individual of note, an individual that Prime specially valued. Perhaps he fulfilled the role long enough that, in all but name, it became “his.” Perhaps he even fulfilled it well enough that Prime praised him frequently, cementing this unfortunate delusion. Perhaps Prime gave him legitimate favor - a false thing, of course; simply a controlling tool, but Hordak did not realize that.

Without canon confirmation, we can really only speculate, but these ideas seem reasonable.

Details aside, the point of the matter is that Hordak sees himself as “top general” because he sadly doesn’t understand that he is an interchangeable piece of a utilitarian machine. He truly thinks that he has this coveted position, that he is particularly useful, special, of great value. It’s a tragic misunderstanding that simply fuels his misguided devotion to Prime and prevents him from seeking freedom when he is given the opportunity.

It’s something, I think, that people in very controlling religious organizations often end up thinking: that they are especially valued, worthy in some way that others are not. It’s part of how the organization controls them.

By the by, there is also the theory that Hordak has suffered memory erasure before and is thus doubly confused, filling in blanks with fantasy, but given that we have no direct evidence of that, I’m not really going to go into it; it’s a popular bit of speculation, though.

Now, however, let us examine a different aspect of this. Labels aside, delusions aside, we are left with another conundrum: however Hordak interprets his position, it is very clear to us that said position does not actually offer the power or respect that a legitimate high military rank would offer. It does not appear to provide Hordak with any special treatment.

Once upon a time, back when we first learned of Hordak’s backstory, it was somewhat assumed that the position would do something like this. Numerous fans speculated about how it might be a position that gave a clone dominion over others, or over their own personal ships or planets; some fans suggested that it might give a clone the right to a name. Now, of course, we know that none of these speculations are true: all of Prime’s clones are essentially interchangeable; all are part of a hive mind that eliminates the need for certain clones directing others; no clone is allowed a name, no matter what their current job might be.

So. What, exactly, is Hordak practically gaining here? Despite this position appearing to hold zero effective esteem, despite it necessitating Hordak giving up his self and his autonomy, it is abundantly clear that he desperately wants it back. Why?

What about this position, whatever it may or may not be called, would provide Hordak with this sense of value, of specialness, of personal worth? After all, Hordak may be deluded, but he’s not stupid; even indoctrinated, he can tell that he doesn’t hold dominion over other clones, or have a right to his own name. He can tell that he doesn’t receive any functional privileges, that his own sense of value doesn’t translate into anything that you or I would think is “worth the price of admission,” so to speak.

In light of that incredibly steep price, what does this position offer, in a world where military rank appears irrelevant? What does it offer, in exchange for Hordak’s name and his bodily autonomy and his freedom? In short, what does it offer that makes Hordak think it worth sacrificing so much for?

Well.

It offers closeness to Prime, doesn’t it? It offers the chance to work near him, to bask in his presence, to be spoken to and looked upon and touched by him. It offers the chance to receive his praise, personally. It offers the chance to perhaps - hopefully, wishfully - receive his love.

Because that’s what Hordak really wants. Not dominion over others, or a fancy military title. He wants that emotional connection. He wants that approval and validation. He wants love. And for so much of the series, for so much of his life, he believes that love comes only from Prime. That working closely with him, being of use to him, will provide him with that sense of belonging and acceptance and affectionate care that he hungers for. That it will make him worthy and loved.

(There’s a line in the deleted Entrapdak scene, where Prime calls Hordak the “most unloved and unworthy” among his brothers that really cements the idea that worthiness is synonymous with love within the galactic Horde)

This is what marks the position as “special” in Hordak’s eyes: it is special because it stands the greatest chance of providing him with Prime’s love.

All of it is a lie, of course. Because Prime only “loves” his brothers as extensions of himself, and even then, only if they are physically useful to him. Once Hordak starts to lag behind due to his illness, he is quickly removed from Prime’s presence and sent to the front lines, destined to fight until defect or battle kills him. And yet it is a lie so powerful, and the clones’ need for Prime’s love so great, that he is able to use it to control them even when they are separated from him. To the point that a sickly clone trapped in a shadow dimension will forgo freedom in his desperate bid to feel wanted and treasured by his cruel god.

Eventually, thankfully, Hordak finds a true version of the connection he craves, someone who looks at him and acknowledges him, values him and loves him as he is, without him needing to prove himself useful. He finds Entrapta, and she provides that love that he sought from Prime.

This is why, even though Hordak actually ends up working in Prime’s throne room again, ends up close to him once more, he breaks free from control and kills his Brother. Throughout season five, Hordak remembers Entrapta. He remembers how she makes him feel. He remembers her love... and he realizes that it is not the same as Prime's. It is sincere. It is unconditional. It accepts him as his own flawed person, rather than the perfect drone Prime wants him to be. It is deeper and more true and more real than the hollow sham Prime offers.

And so Hordak rejects this once-coveted position, rejects Prime, and frees himself. He makes the choice between a false, controlling “love” and the real, heartfelt thing. He makes the choice, and he chooses Entrapta.

In the end, the greatest disconnect between what Hordak tells us in season three and what is true isn’t the word “general,” or even the cruel difference between how Prime views the clones, and how they view him. It is the impression of why Hordak wants such a position at all, of what it means to him. What initially comes off as a disgraced military man seeking to regain former glory is actually a lost, unloved soul desperately searching for the emotional connection he needs.

And, after many mistakes, after much hardship, he finally finds it.

#hordak #horde prime #entrapta #entrapdak #she ra

4K notes · View notes