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throneofsmut · 17 days

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BOUND IN FLAMES - Part 11

Eris Vanserra × Archeron-Sister- Reader

Description: Feyre and her younger sister go hunting in the forest behind their family's cottage and go through life changing experiences.

Warnings: Pretty gruesome descriptions of violence and injury and lots of unaliving (i think thats all of it)

Authors Note: i swear i was going to post this part right after part 10 but i couldn't figure out the fight scene for the life of me and then once i did i kept rewriting but i hope you guys like this part and btw im gonna be going back editing the parts that have already been posted

Word Court: 7.5k

****

“How long has Wesley been in Summer?” You ask Raihn as you shift, settling into his side since he was curled up behind you.

Not long. I’ve been tracking him for the past month—

You whirled, your eyes narrowed into slits, “Month!? He’s been here a whole month?”

Yes.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Because I wanted to track his movements, his habits before we did anything—before you did anything. Before you did anything reckless.

Crossing your arms, huffing, “Fine. But, tomorrow night I’m going to Summer. With or without you.”

All right, tomorrow night. Raihn agreed, knowing you would leave him behind if you had to.

Settling further into him, titling your face up at the stars—at the night sky. “Raihn, let’s stay here for the night?”

As you wish, Sunshine. He moved, coiling himself closer around you, keeping you warm—safe. Why don’t you want to go back to the manor?

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

His body tensed, Who do I have to kill?

“No one.” You sighed, “me probably.”

What happened? His voice was calm, demanding, the way it always was before he killed someone. Which he had to do a few times when you were growing up, you’ve been hunted by Amarantha since you were in your mother’s womb.

You turned to look at him, “It was my fault. I started it, I—“

I don’t care about what you did. What did the other one do? His blue eyes glinted with the promise of violence.

“Raihn, please… let it go. I’ve had a long day and I just want to rest.”

He didn’t say anything for a long time, he just kept watching you. Fine, he relented. Sleep, you’re safe with me.

“Always am.”

You drifted off not long after, his steady breaths lulling you to sleep.

****

The next morning, you made your trek back to the manor. Content to just listen to the birds and trees singing. It was almost as if in greeting as you walked through the Spring Court. Raihn said that they were happy you were walking among them as the heir of Spring.

You were close enough to the garden that you heard Feyre’s tins and brushes clatter to the gravel. Close enough for you to scent her fear.

Without a second thought you ran to her side, Raihn trailing close behind, as she stared at the fountain.

No, not the fountain, but the head spiked to it.

A bleeding High Fae male head—spiked atop the fountain statue of a great heron flapping its wings. The stone was soaked in enough blood to suggest that the head had been fresh when someone had impaled it on the heron’s upraised bill.

Instantly, your eyes scanned the area around you, taking in every detail, looking for any signs of movement. Nothing. Even when you tried scenting who had put the head on the fountain, nothing.

“Feyre,” You said softly so as not to startle her, her hand immediately clamped around your arm so tight you thought she’d break her fingers.

You didn’t need to ask Raihn to check the perimeter—he was already gone as Feyre and you continued to stare at that still-screaming head, the brown eyes bulging, the teeth broken and bloody. No mask—so he wasn’t part of the Spring Court. Anything else about him, you couldn’t discern.

His blood was so bright on the gray stone—his mouth open so vulgarly. You took a step forward and Feyre tried pulling you back, but slammed into something—someone.

She whirled, hands rising out of instinct, but Tamlin’s voice said, “It’s me,” and she stopped cold. Lucien stood beside him, pale and grim.

“Not Autumn Court,” Lucien said. “I don’t recognize him at all.”

Tamlin’s hands clamped on her shoulders as you turned back toward the head. “Neither do I.” A soft, vicious growl laced his words, but no claws pricked her skin as he kept gripping her. His hands tightened, though, while Lucien stepped into the small pool in which the statue stood—striding through the red water until he peered up at the anguished face.

“They branded him behind the ear with a sigil,” Lucien said, swearing. “A mountain with three stars—”

“Night Court,” Tamlin said too quietly.

You tensed. Fuck.

“Why. . . why would they do this?” Feyre asked.

Tamlin let go of her shoulder, coming to stand between you as Lucien climbed the statue to remove the head.

“The Night Court does what it wants,” Tamlin said.“They live by their own codes, their own corrupt morals.”

Your hands curled into fists as you fought to keep your temper in check.

“They’re all sadistic killers,” Lucien added. “They delight in torture of every kind—and would find this sort of stunt to be amusing.”

You dared a step forward, body moving on its own, but Raihn stopped you. Don’t.

You blew out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Willing yourself to relax.

“Amusing, but not a message?” Feyre asked as she scanned the garden.

“Oh, it’s a message,” Lucien said, and she cringed at the thick, wet sounds of flesh and bone on stone as he yanked the head off. You’d both skinned enough animals, but this. . . Tamlin put another hand on her shoulder. “To get in and out of our defenses, to possibly commit the crime nearby, with the blood this fresh. . . ” A splash as Lucien landed in the water again. “It’s exactly what the High Lord of the Night Court would find amusing. The bastard.”

Rhysand. Your uncle.

You gauged the distance between the pool and the house. Sixty, maybe seventy feet. That’s how close they’d come to them. To Feyre. Tamlin brushed a thumb against her shoulder. “You’re still safe here. This was just their idea of a prank.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes.

“This isn’t connected to the blight?” Feyre asked.

“Only in that they know the blight is again awakening—and want us to know they’re circling the Spring Court like vultures, should our wards fall further.” Feyre looked as sick as you all felt, because Tamlin added, “I won’t let that happen.”

You scoffed.

He pinned you with a glare, “Do you not believe me, Y/n?”

Turning your body to face him straight on, you pointed at his mask, “The mask on your face makes it fairly clear that you can’t do a fucking thing against the blight.” He stared at you—fighting to keep his temper in check to not upset Feyre more than she already was—you stared right back. Unflinching. Even as his claws slid free.

Lucien splashed out of the fountain, “They’ll get what’s coming to them soon enough. Hopefully the blight will wreck them, too.” Tamlin growled at Lucien to take care of the head, and the gravel crunched as Lucien departed.

Tamlin’s eyes didn’t leave yours until Feyre crouched to pick up her paints and brushes. He knelt next to her, his hands closed around hers, squeezing. “You’re still safe,” he promised to her again. And you rolled your eyes.

Feyre didn’t say anything, her eyes flicked to you and then back down to her brushes—to her hands that were still shaking.

“It’s court posturing,” Tamlin explained. “The Night Court is deadly, but this was only their lord’s idea of a joke. Attacking anyone here—attacking you—would cause more trouble than it’s worth for him. If the blight truly does harm these lands, and the Night Court enters our borders, we’ll be ready.”

“No you won’t.” You muttered as you turned to leave, following the way Lucien went. He stopped as he heard you approaching. The gravel crunching beneath your feet, giving you away.

“What?”

Nodding at the head in his hands, “Let me see it again.”

“Why?”

“Lucien.” He lifted it so you could get a good look at it, he didn’t look familiar, your nostrils flared slightly once. Twice. “He’s from the Winter Court.” You said matter-of-factly.

Lucien’s brows furrowed as he looked at the head closer—examining it. “How do you know?”

You stared at him, incredulous, “You can’t scent the faint hint of crisp snow on him? It’s barely there but it’s there.”

He sniffed once, twice, then he sighed, shaking his head, “No.” Then he turned his focus on you, his head cocked to the side, sizing you up. “Who-what are you?”

“Nobody important.” Certainly not the “Sun of the Night Court.” Certainly not the heir that was promised to save Prythian—to kill Amarantha. Certainly not Tamlin’s daughter. . . his heir.

Lucien prowled closer until you were nearly chest to chest. “You are so full of shit,” he spat. “Are you a bloodhound or something?”

“Or something,” You shrugged—feigning nonchalance.

“You’re a bad friend.”

“I know.” Your voice came out quieter than you meant as you withstood his withering gaze. He stared at you for a few moments longer before turning on his heel going to get rid of the head as Tamlin asked. You just stood there, watching his figure disappear into the Western Woods.

Whoever was here is gone now and they covered their tracks. There’s not even a scent. Raihn said from wherever he was on the grounds. I can go out further if you want me to.

No, I need you to do something else. Go to the Summer Court and watch Wesley. Don’t do anything, just watch him and the others, and I’ll meet you at the border of Spring and Summer after the sun goes down and we’ll go back together.

All right, don’t do anything stupid till I get back.

You mentally rolled your eyes at him.

****

Making your way to the kitchen that was bustling with fae getting lunch ready. They all murmured greetings when they saw you. A fae male with a bird mask asked if you wanted something to eat before lunch was served or if you wanted something in particular for dessert.

“No, thank you sir. But I’m actually looking for Alis.”

He flushed, bowing his head, “I am no sir, Lady Y/n. I am merely a humble servant—”

Shaking your head, “Doesn’t matter. At least, not to me. You treated me with respect so I did the same, sir.”

“Ben.” He said, a shy smile gracing his lips, “My name is Ben.”

You stuck your hand out, “Y/n—just Y/n. I hate being called Lady.”

Ben laughed but hesitated when he saw your hand, “La— I mean Y/n,” he corrected himself, “my hands are dirty.” And they were in fact covered in blood from a buck he was preparing for lunch.

“A little blood doesn’t bother me,” your hand was still outstretched towards him. Ben’s eyes flickered between your hand and his as if in a silent battle with himself. Then he shook your hand, laughing and you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face, “What?” You asked him.

He shook his head, “You’re nothing like I thought you’d be, Princess.” You stiffened at the title—Princess. You don’t know what he must’ve read on your face because he quickly reassured you, “Don’t worry only Alis and I know. We knew your mother. . . she was always kind to us, as are you.” He whispered.

You only nodded.

“Alis is in her room. In the servants quarters in the East Wing of the manor.”

“Thank you, Ben.”

****

As you made your way to Alis’s room, more servants greeted you. Some with a nod, others with a smile. Once you got to the East Wing, you realized you didn’t know which room was hers. You stood in the middle of the hall, trying to listen for her voice, trying to scent her, shaking your head in frustration when you couldn’t.

Then a sentry came out of a room, he had tan skin, tawny eyes and deep rich brown hair. He looked back into the room like he was speaking to someone and a couple seconds later a female’s laugh echoed into the hallway. His face broke out in a grin but when he saw me his brows knitted together and he whispered something too low for you to hear to the female inside the room.

He shut the door and strode towards you. “Are you lost Lady Y/n? Your rooms are located in the—“ He stood less than a foot away from you now.

You were still looking around or trying to at least since the sentry towered over you and his brawny build seemed somehow bulkier in his armor. “West Wing—I know. Where’s Alis’s room?”

He turned and pointed, “Down the hall, take a left, first door on the right.”

You nodded. “Thank you. . .”

“Emmett.” He smiled.

“Thank you, Emmett.”

He bowed his head, “At your service, my lady.” Then he left. You followed his directions, finally finding Alis’s room and knocking.

A few seconds later you heard movement behind her door before she swung it open. She blinked in surprise, “Y/n.”

“I need you to do something for me.” She stepped aside letting you in. “I need you to cover for me.”

Her brows pinched together, her lips pressing into a tight line. “For how long?”

“Just until tonight.”

“Tonight? What are—where are you going?”

“Out.”

She sighed, tilting her head back looking up at the ceiling as she shook her head, “Please don’t tell me you’re going to do something stupid.”

“Of course not,” You grinned.

“Reckless? Dangerous?”

“Well that’s still up for debate.”

“Y/n—“

“Alis, I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t have another choice.”

She was looking at you now. “At least tell me you’re not going alone.”

You shook your head, “Raihn’s coming with me.”

She didn’t say anything for a few minutes before sighing again and rubbing her eyes with her thumb and forefinger. “All right, fine.”

“Thank you, Alis.”

“You never have to thank me, Princ—Y/n. I’ll always help you. . . Now do you need anything else?”

“From you? No. From the armory? Yes.”

She looked up at the ceiling again, “Cauldron, save me.”

You laughed as you made your way to the door, looking back at her, “Thank you, Alis.” You drawled. “I appreciate you.” She muttered something you chose to ignore.

****

It didn’t take you long to find the armory. It was located near the training grounds, not far from the manor.

You just needed to find some fighting leathers, daggers, boots and anything else you might need. Yet, none of it would feel as familiar as the Illyrian fighting leathers or blades you’d been trained with when you were a child. But you’ve done more with less. At least you still had the two ash daggers that your fathers gifted you on the last solstice you all shared.

There were no other sentries near or in the armory that you could detect except for two High Fae males that were currently sparring on the training grounds. They were too focused on each other to see you slip in through the door. It was bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside, probably due to a glamour one of the past High Lords placed.

You couldn’t stop the grin that spread across your face as you took in the entire armory. The wall directly opposite to the door had a small bench pushed up against it with shelves a couple feet above it. Fully stocked with different sized boots, fighting and training leathers.

One of the other walls was full of different weapons: swords, daggers, knives, battle axes, bows, arrows and shields. The last wall had floor to ceiling shelves that held different types of armor: breastplates, helmets, gauntlets, belts and other accessories.

You made quick work of filling an empty crate that was left near the bench with fighting leathers and boots closest to your size. Two leather gauntlets, a bandolier that could hold several daggers and a sword in the back, and a belt that could hold a battle axe.

Both hands were braced on your hips as you looked at the wall with weapons, trying to pick which ones would be the best. You definitely weren’t going to pick a bow and arrow—it’s not your favorite for close combat. So that left only swords, daggers and battle axes.

A simple battle axe caught your eye. The hilt was wrapped with black leather, there wasn’t anything special about the blade itself but it seemed to gleam brighter than any of the others. You picked it up, feeling the balance of it and its weight as you swung it.

The Illyrian part of you so at peace that you hadn’t even realized you closed your eyes. Until you whipped around, throwing it, so close past two sentries heads that were walking in. The same two sentries that you saw sparring.

They both chuckled and then one in the front spoke.“You missed,” he teased.

You gave them a wicked smirk that always put others on edge and they visibly tensed. “Did I?” Your eyes flicked to the sides of their faces, closest to the door frame, where the axe was embedded.

Both sentries reached a hand up to their faces in unison. To the matching slashes on the left sides of their faces—on their cheeks—that was bleeding. Their eyes widening before they let out amused chuckles. “Not bad, Lady Y/n.” The other one said.

Still smirking, you dipped your chin and made your way towards the door, pulling the axe free before dropping it into the crate. And went right back to picking a few daggers. Some straight bladed ones and some curved all the while feeling the sentries eyes on you. Glancing over your shoulder at them, “Do you two need something?”

“N-no.” They said at the same time.

“All right then.” You went on trying to find the right sword. They were all simple but finely crafted and well taken care of. Reaching for one when one of the sentries cleared his throat, making you stop. Turning around to face them fully. “Yes?”

The taller one of the two cleared his throat again, “We think we know the perfect sword for you.”

You tilted your head taking them both in and you realize they both had the same warm brown eyes and gold hair. Cousins? Maybe even brothers. They seemed familiar and not just because you’ve seen them around the manor, but from before. “Why would you two want to give me a sword?”

“It is yours by right.” The other one said.

You didn’t respond, brows pinching together as you nodded slowly, letting his words sink in.

Wordlessly the taller one of the two reached down and picked up the crated you had filled and walked toward the door. Only looking back to make sure that the other sentry and you were following him. You followed him back toward the barracks—where all the sentries stayed while on the grounds. Far apart enough that you didn’t look like you were all walking together.

Once inside the barracks, a few other sentries greeted them, calling them “Bron” and “Hart”. Some simply nodded while others ignored them completely and perked up when they saw you. Walking all the way to the end of the hall and Bron—the taller one—opened the door on the right and you all entered a room. His room.

He set the crate in his hands down on the bed that was pushed into the corner and got down on his knees, pulling out a trunk from beneath it. Hart went to his side and they both pulled several cloaks from it before finally pulling out a sword—your mother’s sword.

You let out a shuddered breath as Bron held it with both hands. “Why do you have that?” Your voice comes out as a whisper.

“We were both there that day. . . we tried to help but we were too late. We looked for you for days to no avail. This”—he looked down at your mother’s sword—“was the only thing we found.” He explained.

Hart’s voice was tight as he added, “Princess Rhaenyra was kind to us—a friend to us. . . Your fathers too.”

As if in a daze you took a step forward and grabbed her sword. You couldn’t stop the tears that fell down my cheeks as you held it. It was a beautiful sword. Slender and elegant made from Illyrian steel, with a black hilt, a gold cross-guard that was shaped as dragon wings with an amethyst the size of a chicken egg in the pommel. The entire sword had Illyrian runes carved into it for luck and glory.

You looked at them both with a sad smile, “Thank you. Y-you have no idea how much this means to me.”

They both nodded their heads and then placed their right hands over their hearts and kneeled. Then at the same time they spoke. “I swear myself to you. To ward you, Princess Y/n. I shall guard your secrets. Obey your commands. Fight at your side and defend your name and honor. With all my strength and give my blood for yours.”

Confused, you shook your head, “Neither of you have to swear oaths to me. Giving me this sword—my mother’s sword is more than enough.”

“Princess Y/n, it would be the greatest honor of our lives to serve you. The heir that was promised—the “Sun of the Night court.” Hart Replied.

“Please, Princess, allow us this honor.” Bron insisted.

“All right. But, never forget it is also my honor to have you serve me.” They nodded. “Now rise.” They did. And you gently laid your mother’s—your sword in the crate and went to pick it up but Bron’s voice stopped you.”

“Princess—“

“Please don’t call me Princess. The less people that know who I really am the better.” They both nodded again.

“Y/n?”

“Yes, Bron?”

“Why do you need all of this?” He asked, gesturing to the crate.

“Because there’s something I need to do in the Summer Court.”

“Would you like us to accompany you?” asked Hart.”

“No. No, it’s better if you both stay here. This is something I need to do alone.”

They bowed their heads, “Of course.”

****

By the time you made it back to your bedroom in the Manor it was mid afternoon and you didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep.

Alis woke you up with a tray of cured meats, cheese and bread for you to eat. With a goblet of fresh water.

“What time is it?” You croaked, your voice still thick with sleep.

“Late afternoon. The sun is going to set soon.” She said after glancing at the windows.

You nodded. Raihn? Even your mental voice sounded thick with sleep.

Yes, sunshine? He answered instantly.

I’ll meet you at the border of the Spring and Summer court after the sun sets.

Be careful. He said.

You too.

You ate in silence while watching Alis lay out the fighting leathers and weapons on your bed. She shook her head, “I don’t like this one bit.”

“What?”

“The idea of you going out. What if you get hurt?”

“I’ll be fine, Alis.” You reassured her. “I always am.”

She grumbled her agreement under her breath making you laugh as she took the empty tray from you. She left, taking the tray back to the kitchen and with a sigh you got up to get dressed.

Sliding on the supple yet tough fighting leathers, designed to provide flexibility and protection during combat. The boots following after. Next was the gauntlets, bandolier and then the belt.

Alis came back in after you had already sheathed your sword on your back and the battle axe on your hip. Now you were sheathing your daggers into the bandolier—three curved ones and three straight ones.

You were going to secure your two ash daggers into your boots when Alis stepped towards you, halting you mid movement. She held two leather thigh sheaths that could connect to a belt, “I had planned to gift this to you on your birthday but it’s in a few days anyway.”

You took it from her hands, taking it in.

There wasn’t anything special about it—except that it was a gift from her—but you could tell it was high quality.

She fidgeted, “I had it made for you—“ You cut off her rambling with a hug. She let out a surprised laugh before wrapping her arms around you too.

“Thank you, Alis.” You pulled away, moving to strap them on and secure them to your belt before sheathing an ash dagger to each thigh.

She tipped her chin and led you to the vanity where she braided your hair back away from your face. When she finished she met your gaze in the mirror and gave you an unsure. “It’s time.”

And surely enough through the reflection of the mirror you could just barely see the curtain drawn window and see that the sun had set. You turned around in the seat, facing her, “What did you tell Feyre?”

“That you weren’t feeling well and that you were going to sleep through the rest of the evening.”

“Good.” You made your way to the balcony doors and opened them, Alis followed behind you but stopped in the doorway. Your hands rested on the railing and without you looking back you said, “Don’t wait up for me.” Then without another word you leapt from the balcony, slipped past the sentries and made your way through the Western Woods.

I’m heading to the border now. You told Raihn mentally.

I’m already here. Be safe, sunshine. He answered.

You jogged into the woods before stopping in a clearing. Waiting, listening in case anyone was around or following you. Once you were satisfied you inhaled a deep breath and when you exhaled you shot through the trees.

Even though the blood spell dulled your senses and blocked your magic, you were still more fae than mortal. In your fae form your senses were sharper—keener than a normal fae’s. More so than a High Lord’s according to your mother.

Your clothed figure was a black streak through the dark and your blades gleaming like stars when they caught in the moonlight. The ground easy beneath my boots. Your immortal body gracefully leaping over rocks, fallen trees and branches, and dodging trees without even thinking. Without a doubt you let your senses guide you.

The smell of oak and moss and living things, the open coolness of the mist passing like a path that you followed. Until you finally made it to the border where the courts of Spring and Summer met not even fifteen minutes later.

Raihn stalked out of the shadows, moving towards you. “Tell me what you know.” A command not a question.

He held your gaze, blue eyes glowing bright in the dark. They set up camp between Adriata and the border. Six soldiers are on watch a mile out from the camp and six other soldiers are sitting out around the fire in front of the tent.

You nodded. “And Wesley?”

In the tent.

“All right.” You only took one step forward before Raihn stopped you, blocking your path with his massive body. “You’re not gonna stop me.” And you went to side step him but he only got in your way again. “What?” You growled.

There’s something else you need to know.

“What?”

I heard Wesley saying he got word that the “Son of the Night Court” was in spring and he was going to send scouts within the hour.

Your face paled. “Fuck. They might not find me but if he finds Feyre they’ll take her.” Amarantha’s going to take her. Kill her. You shook your head, your blood now roaring in your ears. “Raihn, get back to Spring. If anything happens to her—“

It’ll have to happen to me.

Without another word he nuzzled his head into your shoulder and took off back towards Spring. A white blur through the night, through the trees. You took a deep breath willing your head to clear, you needed to focus, Raihn would protect her. It took a couple more deep breaths before your nerves settled and your blood was roaring for different reasons.

Even though you were only quarter Illyrian it was a dominant part of you. Powerful and intense like a storm gathering within you. Before a fight everyone always feels a mix of anticipation and adrenaline wash over them—some embrace it and others fight it, either willingly or unwillingly. You always welcomed it. Instead of it clouding your senses it heightened them allowing you to focus in fights. Allowing you to fight with lethal skill and precision, excelling in every fight.

You let the promise of revenge, bloodshed and death wash over you. Relax you. Letting your parents training take over as you unsheathed two daggers from your bandolier, the feeling of them as familiar as the steady rhythm of your own heartbeat. On silent feet you made your way to the camp's perimeter—to the first soldier on watch and faster than anything had the right to be you stuck the dagger into his throat and twisted.

He died before his body even hit the ground.

You did the same to the five other soldiers—four females and one male— that were on watch. Their blood dripped from your fingertips as you stalked closer to the camp. Standing on the edge of the tree line, you saw five more soldiers sitting around a fire—two females and three males—talking. They still hadn’t noticed you and you scented the air. Nostrils flaring slightly once, twice and you knew Wesley was inside the tent.

Reaching behind your back you unsheathed your sword and moved. Prowling towards them, holding your drawn sword behind your back, the point upwards.

Sunshine. Raihn reached out to you, mind to mind. The manor is secure. Feyre was safe. You hummed your agreement mentally and closed off the bond on your side.

You purposefully let leaves crunch beneath your feet as you neared them and they stopped talking. “Where’s Wesley?” You asked, your voice deathly soft.

One of the Hybern soldiers—a high fae female—tensed. “What do you want with Wes?” She asked as she looked around, no doubt wondering how you got through the soldiers that were supposed to be on watch.

“Where is he?” You growled.

“What. Do. You. Want. With. Him.” She growled right back.

“I heard he’s looking for the Sun of the Night court?”

Another Hybern soldier—a high fae male—flanked her, “You know where he is.”

“She is right here. Looking for him.”

Another soldier—male. “You’re not the son of the Night Court. You’re a mortal girl.” He spat, drawing his sword.

You shrugged, lowering your eyes, jaw clenching. “Semantics.”

They subtly shifted, giving another male soldier with deep brown skin that was holding a crossbow a clear shot at you. In one quick movement he raises it and lets the bolt fly.

You knock aside the bolt with your sword.

Then another soldier—the other female—rushes towards you and you parry her sword, stabbing her straight through the neck.

You parry a second soldier's attack and slice his stomach.

Whirling you stab a third soldier that tried rushing you from behind in the leg. He falls and the second soldier comes at you again, blocking his attack, with the blade of your sword pointed down. Your swords clash and then you twist your wrist and slice his throat. So deep his head is barely attached to his body.

A fourth soldier charges at you and you block his blow and with your left hand you clamp down on his right forearm and bring your sword down on it. Severing his arm from his body. Grabbing his sword from his right hand before it even hits the ground and stabbing it into the chest of the soldier with the crossbow before he can reload it.

Another soldier comes at you with his sword in one hand and a shield in the other. He spreads his arms as he raises his left, bringing down his sword in a wide arc and you duck. Then before he can bash you with his shield you spin and switch your grip on your sword so it’s horizontal and stab through the side of his neck.

You prowl forward, right as the third soldier you had stabbed in the leg charges at you. With his arms raised and you drop to a knee and angle your sword upwards stabbing him through his ribs and into his heart and take his swords.

The female soldier that you spoke to first snarls at you as your swords clash and you spin before striking another blow. She blocks it but with the other sword you stab her through her chest. Impaling her and pinning her to the ground. You take a step back and twist, decapitating her with one swing.

You hear, heavy, sure foot falls as Wesley prowls towards you. Too caught up in slaughtering his soldiers to notice him till now.

He points his sword at you as he charges. You dodge two thrusts and then parry several slashes. You exchange several more blows. Then land a punch to his jaw and drive him back, pinning him to a tree with your sword pressed against his neck. His nostrils flaring—he’s scenting you.

His eyes widened and then narrowed into slits.

“You remember me. Don’t you?” You growl.

He only growls back and stabs you in the stomach with a dagger you didn’t realize he had. He knocks aside your sword. Then he spins and swipes dodging your blows, then he slashes at your back and you bring your own sword behind your back just in time to block it.

You knock his sword away and bring your own down on his shoulder. He spins on his knee and slices your thigh with his dagger. You glare at each other. Then you side step him as he charges, dodging a horizontal swipe, he puts the dagger in his sword hand.

The blades facing in opposite directions. You grab the blade of his dagger as it moves towards your hip and then in one quick motion he pulls it out of your grip. slicing your palm in the process.

You surge forward raining down blows. Wesley blocks a blow with both blades. You rip the sword from his grasp and aim your own sword at his throat. He stands rigid, staring at you with nothing but hate. You toss his sword behind you and lower your sword.

He lunges forward with the dagger and you knock it from his grasp with the pommel of your sword. And with your free hand you grab both his hands and in one fell swoop you bring down your sword in a brutal cut—severing both hands at the wrist. His blood, spraying your boots.

His blood curdling screams fill your ears and the forest around as he falls to his knees. Doubling over in pain. You laugh as his body obviously begins going into shock if the telltale sign of his hyperventilating is anything to go by. You circle around him—a predator about to make the killing blow to their prey.

He whimpers as you force his head up with the blade of your sword under his chin. “Look. At. Me.” You said deathly soft.

Wesley forces his eyes to meet yours. “W-we killed you. All of you.” His voice quivering from pain.

You shook your head, a feral grin on your lips as you loomed over him making him flinch. “You slaughtered a mother and two fathers. . . but you didn't slaughter every one of the Blackfyre’s.” His face pale from blood loss seemed to pale further. “No. That was your mistake.” You taunted. “You should have ripped them all out, root and stem. Leave one dragon alive and the sheep are never safe.“

His body began to shake even more as he took in the murderous look in your eyes. The rage.

“Do you remember what you said to me all those years ago?”

He whimpered, shaking his head.

You gripped his hair, tilting his head back, “I want words,” you snarled.

“N-no.” He stuttered between sobs.

“It was after you took a whip to my back. I could barely stand but I still tried slitting your throat and you dislocated my shoulder disarming me.” You let out a cold bitter humorless laugh. “You said,” leaning down to whisper into his ear, “you lack conviction” and then you tied me back onto the post and whipped me some more.”

“I am so sorry. I was just a soldier following orders.”

“And now you’ll die because you were a soldier just following orders.”

You lifted your sword up in a high arc and Wesley squeezed his eyes shut, murmuring some type of prayer under his breath. Your sword's blade glinted in the moonlight before descending in a swift clean death blow. There was a devastating elegance to the motion but right as it was about land true—

“Y/n!” Lucien called.

You pulled back the blow, barely a hair's breadth away from Wesley’s neck.

He appeared from behind the tent, stopping a couple feet away from Wesley and you. He sounded terrified. It took you a moment to realize he was terrified of you.

“Stop. . .” He pleaded, his voice hoarse.

You didn’t want to stop. Not until Wesley was dead. Not until all of Amarantha’s lieutenants were dead. Not until Amarantha was dead.

“Please, Y/n.”

You looked up and saw his remaining eye was wide, his metal one whirring softly as he looked around. At all the soldiers you slaughter and at Wesley with your sword at his neck. You blinked once and you were in his head, seeing yourself through his eyes.

Your eyes were clear but filled with feral satisfaction. There was still a hint of a wicked feral grin on your lips. And you were covered in blood from head to toe; some of it yours and most of it theirs. You blinked again now seeing through your own eyes.

“We can take him back to spring. Let Tamlin deal with him.” Lucien tried reasoning.

“No. Not good enough.” You raised your sword again.

The emissary took a step forward. “This isn’t going to change what happened.”

“I don’t care. He slaughtered my family.” You half growled—half whispered.

“Can you forgive your enemies?” He tried reasoning again.

“The gods will forgive. My task is to arrange their meeting.”

And this time when your sword arced through the air, the blade struck true. And Wesley’s head fell to the ground near his severed hands before his body did too.

You tilted your face up at the night sky—the stars, a small smile on your lips when you felt a soft warm breeze caress your face. Your eyes closed and it was as if your mother was doing it. You could’ve sworn you heard your parent’s voices in the wind.

Just two more, Sunshine. Your mother said. Only Cahir and Amarantha are left, Sunshine. Your father Declan seemed to say. My brave sweet girl you’re almost done. Your father Callum reassured you.

Just two more.

“Two more what?” Lucien asked cautiously.

You realize you must’ve said it out loud. “Go back to the manor, Lucien.”

Distantly you heard leaves crunching beneath light footfalls in the trees behind you. You didn’t spare him another glance before silently making your way towards the noise. Scenting the air, you smelled a female. Her scent, a crisp and refreshing winter breeze, with hints of frost and pine needles.

It was familiar but you couldn’t place it, so you pulled your battle axe free. The weight of it was a comfort in your hand as you silently continued further into the woods.

But it was almost too quiet so you waited for a minute to just listen. You could hear leaves rustling, a distant river, animals and then a heart beating rapidly. Not an animal's heart but fae. And it was all you could to grab the female by her throat with your free hand and slam her into the ground.

Her hands clawed at the one you wrapped around her neck as she thrashed beneath you. But she stilled when she felt the cool metal of your axe press into her skin. It was dark but the moonlight let you glimpse pale skin, white hair and blue eyes.

Your brows knitting together. “Viviane?”

“Princess?”

“Why were you watching me?”

“I wasn’t.”

Your hand tightened around her throat and you dug your axe deeper drawing a drop of blood. “Bullshit.”

“I didn’t know it was you.”

You slammed her head into the ground.

“I swear I didn’t know,” she grounded out through clenched teeth.

“Liar.”

“Fine. . . I needed to ask you something.”

You stared at her for a couple more seconds before slowly letting go of her throat and getting off of her. “You needed to ask me something,” you repeat.

“Yes.”

You cross your arms. “Well?”

“A high fae male from Winter was found in Spring territory earlier today.” The one spiked to the fountain.

“What about it?”

“Did he have a note on his person?”

“No.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t hidden anywhere on his body?”

You suppress a shudder. “Yes.”

“Y/n did you check? He could have hid—“

“There was no way, no place for him to hide a note. They spiked his head to the fountain.” She visibly flinched. “I don’t know where his body is.” I whispered and she put a hand up to her mouth, stifling a sob. “I’m sorry, Viviane.”

She shook her head. “No. No. No.” Then she reached for me, her hands gripping my shoulders, “This is your fault.”

Your eyes shuttered. “I know.”

“No you don’t know!”

You wrenched her hands from your shoulders, spinning and pinning her against a tree with your forearm. “Trust me. . . I know. I lost people too.” You say with lethal softness and she blinked, seeming to remember that was true.

“I-I’m sorry Princess. . . about your mother and fathers.”

You waved your hand dismissively, “I don’t need to hear this right now,” you only made it a step back towards the Spring Court before she stopped you. “What?” you spat.

“Here.” she placed a silver dagger into your hand. It was elegantly made with a bright sapphire in the pommel. “For besting me,” she explained.

You stared at it and before you could say something she winnowed.

****

The trek back to the manor was miserable. You were sore, tired, thirsty and hungry. Not to mention covered in blood, it was dry and sticky, and you were still bleeding from Wesley stabbing you in the stomach. Your body was probably littered in bruises and minor cuts.

Thankfully, none of the sentries said anything as you strode by with your chin held high, slightly limping.

Bron was by the doors when he saw you and he took a single step before you halted him with a raised hand. Giving him a tight nod as you passed him. And you hoped Feyre was asleep by now.

You barely made it up the steps when you heard her.

Feyre.

“Y/n!” She tried running to you but Lucien stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“I’m fine.” You reassure her.

She scanned you from head to toe, her blue-grey eyes wide and lips slightly parted. “Are you sure? You don’t look fine”.

You nodded. “I’m fine. I swear.”

“Please tell me that isn’t your blood.”

“Not all of it. . . Most of it isn’t anyways.”

You felt him before you heard him—saw him. Raihn. His claws clicked against the marble floors as he made his way to you. Nuzzling his head against you, causing you to let out a hiss of pain from the wound in your stomach. You opened the bond on your side and felt his relief to see you were alive.

I’m all right. You reassured him.

He only let out a soft whine.

You heard a loud, startled gasp from behind you atop the stairs. “Y/n?”

Alis.

Heaving a breath. “I’m fine, Alis.”

Her hands hovered over your body, her lips pursing, “You are certainly not fine.”

You grinned at her. “I need another favor.”

She placed her hands on her hips. Her eyes narrowed into slits, “What?”

“Can you get me something to eat and some water and bring it up to my room please.”

She huffed. “Fine.”

“Thank you, Alis.”

“But first let me help you up to your room.”

No. I’ll take you. Raihn said.

You waved her off. “Raihn will take me.”

“Fine but let me draw you a bath first.”

“All right.”

Raihn lowered himself all the way down to the marble floors and you stepped over him so a leg was on each side and then he stood. Earning another hiss of pain out of you.

“Y/n?” Feyre called again.

Turning to look at her. “What?”

“What happened?”

You looked at her before your eyes flicked to Lucien then back to her. “I can’t tell you. Not yet.”

“Y/n.”

“Soon, Fey.” You promised.

For other parts: Bound In Flames Series Masterlist

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10

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afictionaladventure16 · 1 year

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hi!! maybe a fic where pedro has been away from his daughter for a while due to filming and just before a few days before he’s supposed to come home, he calls her saying he has to stay for a couple more weeks. she gets upset and maybe rebels and acts out in some way. the eventual reunion could either be a angsty or fluff depending on what ur goin for!! love ur writing btw!!

Broken Promises (Pedro Pascal x Daughter!Reader)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

Word Count: 4,516

A/N: First of all, thank you for your kind words! It means a lot! <3 I live for angsty requests! This one was fun to write! I kind of took what you asked and did some twists... I hope you like it, though!! Requests are open to anyone who wants to send something in! Also, I don't know if Pedro's older sister has a husband so, i made it up. ALSO, 4.5 k words! This might be my longest one yet. I stayed up till 4:30 am writing this one....

You anxiously looked over at the clock that was mounted on the wall, “The more you look at it, the slower it’ll move,” your tia commented as she noticed you looking at the clock for the seventh time in the past five minutes. “He said he’ll call before he got on his flight, his flight isn’t until Seven. Hours away, so would you please finish your homework before your father kills me because your grades slipped while he was away.”

You groaned, “It’s killing me that he hasn’t called to let me know he made it to the airport, not even a text!”

“He’s a busy man, Y/N. Plus you know how he is, he forgets where he places his phone like ever single minute, that’s why he’s so attached to that damn iPad,” Your tia commented as she continued to chop up vegetables for dinner. But she had a point, he could have let his phone in his carry on, or some obvious place that was in plain sight.

You knew your dad too well, sometimes you thought you knew him better than he knew himself. Sometimes it was true and it scared you. Why? Maybe it was because he was everything to you and you were everything to him. It had just been the two of you since your mother passed and it was as if her passing brought the two of you closer. You bonded over her death in a morbid way.

His mother passed when he was young, so he knew how to be a shoulder to cry on.

He knew the right things to say and the wrong things to say.

He knew the things you would want to avoid, the people you wouldn’t want to see. Overall, he just knew the pain you would go through. Ever since you were just this dynamic duo.

When he was away filming, you missed him dearly, but it gave you time to spend with your cousins and family you don’t get to see as often.

“Any plans for his return home?” your tia asked, interrupting your thoughts.

“Well, I do have my tournament coming up, which is out of state and papi said we can go on a road trip. Take the scenic route and do all the stops.”

“He did mention that, he sounded pretty excited.”

“Yeah, plus this tournament is a pretty big deal, the top four teams will be competing to go to championship,” you explained. You wouldn’t say that soccer was your life, but you did love playing soccer. There was something about being on the field and just leaving everything on the sidelines, leaving all your trauma and past for a few hours and just being free.

You had gotten into soccer when you were fairly young. You remembered your parents always cheering for you in the sidelines and then it was just your dad, then sometimes it would only be your tia who always had her phone up with most likely, your dad on the other side of the phone. Slowly the emptier the sidelines got, the reason for you to play grew, the more you wanted to just be free from your mind.

The sound of your phone ringing interrupted your thoughts, you jumped up and ran towards your phone that sat at the kitchen counter. “Papi?” You said as you answered the call.

“Y//N,” he began to say.

“About time you called, I was beginning to worry you had missed your flight or something. Are you at the airport already?”

“No,” He sighed.

“You’re kind of cutting it close, you know that right?” you glanced at the clock, six thirty, it had read.

“Cariño, I need you to listen to me,” he sighed.

You sat back down at the kitchen table, “What’s wrong?” you asked. Your mind was quick to race to certain thoughts, someone could be dead, you thought. Who could it be? You had been with your tia Javiera for the past month and she was the oldest. Usually she was the first to know everything.

“I’m sorry, Cariño,” he began. Your heart began to race, an uneasy feeling crept over you like storm clouds. “I’m gonna have to stay here for a few more weeks.”

“A few more weeks? B-But you’ll be here for our road trip right?” You were met with silence, a sinking feeling took hold in your stomach, “Right?” you asked again.

“Mija,” he muttered. Pedro spent the whole day putting off this phone call for this reason. He had gotten your hopes up and he knew you weren’t going to take it easy.

“Did you tell them no?”

“I can’t tell the directors no,” he answered.

“Did you even try?” Your voice choked with disappointment, he couldn’t be doing this. He promised he wouldn’t become that parent.

“Mija, I can’t say no, I have to stay here and do reshoots.”

“But our road trip!” You exclaimed.

“I know and I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Just like you promised to take me on this road trip?”

“Mija, por favor, Don’t do this to me,” he said, Pedro felt his heart heavy, he knew he was disappointing you and as much as he wanted to tell the directors to shove it and say no, he knew he couldn’t.

“Or like how you promised you’d never do this? How you promised you wouldn’t become that person.”

“Y/N,” When the first name came out, you knew he was beginning to get upset.

“Mija, give me the phone,” your Tia stepped in. She knew someone might say something they might regret and she didn’t want to see either of your hurt. But she forgot to realize you were her brothers daughter and just like him, you were stubborn too.

You held onto the phone, “You promised,” disappointment written over your voice, tears began to well up in your eyes.

“I know,” he whispered. If you had only seen how torn your father was at the moment, maybe you would have been okay with situation. Or maybe things would have turned differently, but you could only hear his voice and although, you heard the disappointment in his voice, you couldnt be bothered to care about it. All that mattered to you was that he had broken his first promise and you didn’t know if this was going to be the first of many and if so, what was next?

Would you be one of those kids that grew up only seeing their parents on the holidays and eventually writing a book titled, “My Parent, the Mandalorian, and the neglect I endured.” You never wanted to be one of those kids and when your dad first began to get bigger roles, he had promised you that you wouldn’t. That he wouldn’t become one of those famous parents.

You remained silent, hoping it was some kind of sick joke and maybe he’d say something along the lines of ‘Gotcha!’ or maybe he’d say ‘I’ll be there tomorrow, don’t worry!’ But seconds pass and he didn’t say any of it. “Okay,” you finally said.

“Mija,” Pedro began to say but you handed the phone to your tia.

“Pedro, it’s Javiera,” your tia said, a somber look fell on her face when she had heard him apologizing when she first took the phone. She felt bad for her little brother, but she also felt bad for you.

“Is she still there?” Pedro asks

Javiera looked at you, you wiped away tears that were managing to escape. You groaned to yourself, irritated with everything around you, you left the room. “She just left,” she replied.

“I fucked up, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” she sighed.

“How do I fix this?” Pedro pleaded. Ever since your mother passed away, Pedro called his big sister for any little thing on parenting, he felt like every choice he made was the wrong one. Most of the time, it wasn’t, he was just overthinking it.

“There really is no way out of the reshoots? No way to reschedule?”

“Directors call,” he sighed. “I really fucked up, Javiera. No me va a perdonar” (She’s not gonna forgive me).

“No mas nicesieta tiempo. Let me talk to her, but for now… give her some space.”

“Are you saying not to call her?” Pedro questioned.

“Or text… just for a couple of days. If anything send her a goodnight text, but let’s not anger her more.” He let out a small sigh, Pedro always texted you. Even if he went the whole day without responding, he made sure to send a goodnight text every night.

“Alright,” he muttered. “I’m gonna need you to get in contact with the school, she’ll have to go with her team to the tournament.”

“I’ll contact them, and Pedro?”

“Mande?”

She let out a deep breathe, “It’s gonna be fine.”

Pedro tried his hardest to give himself a smile, to reassure himself that it would be fine and eventually it’ll pass, but he couldn’t. At the moment his heart was utterly broken, he had broken a promise, what felt like a sacred vow and now he had disappointed you. It probably wouldn’t be the first, but he sure as hell, hopes it wouldn’t become a habit.

Over the past week, you only left your room to go to school and shower. Your cousins dropped off your food in your room every day, you felt like they were somehow on your side. Your friends eventually began to blow up your phone, not only had you been distant with your family, but you’ve also been distant with them.

You felt your phone vibrate beside you, you groaned at the thought of getting a phone call from anyone. Picking up the phone you realized it was one of your teammates, Cassandra, “Yeah?”

“Finally you pick up,” Cassandra muttered. “Look, a bunch of us are going to go on a drive later tonight with Justin’s brother, he just got his license and we wanted to know if you want to join.”

“Can’t.”

“Oh come on, Y/N! You’ve been so distant and what will it hurt? You’re dad isn’t home anyway so he can’t say anything!”

You let out a sigh, she had a point, “I still have curfew.”

“So? Sneak out.”

You had to admit that Cassandra was a bad influence. She wasn’t your best friend, she was one of the girls in your soccer team. She was part of the older group in the varsity team, but she always invited you out. Part of you felt like she only did it because of your dads social status which is why you always declined her offer. That and because your dad didn’t really approve of you hanging out with her, he could always tell when someone was a bad influence. But Cassandra was right, he wasn’t here.

“Fine.”

“Really?” Cassandra asked taken back by your response.

“Like you said, my dad isn’t here, so it shouldn’t matter right?”

“Trouble in paradise?” She chuckled.

You rolled your eyes, “What time should I be ready?”

“We’ll pick you up at midnight, we’ll shoot you a text when we’re down the block,” Cassandra said before she hung up the phone. You felt your nerves beginning to get worked up, you had no idea what you just got yourself into, yet something inside you felt carefree.

If your dad were home, you knew he wouldn’t approve of you going out so late. He definitely wouldn’t have approved of you going on a joy ride with someone you didn’t even know and had just gotten their license. He wasn’t here though.

You remained in your room while you waited, your Tia Javiera came to check on you before she went to bed. Soon after you heard your phone vibrate on your desk, for a moment you thought it was Cassandra but it was still an hour away from midnight. You glanced at your phone,

Goodnight, Mija ♥️

It was a message from your dad. You rolled your eyes and put your phone away. You spent the rest of your time getting ready, you wore something simple, but made sure to cover up from the cold. A few minutes past midnight you received a text from Cassandra saying that they were waiting down the block. You began to quietly make your way out of the house.

“Where you going?” you heard someone whisper.

You turned around to see your cousin Pedro in the middle of the kitchen, “Pedro, what are you doing up?”

He held up a sandwich, “where you going?”

You looked at him with pleading eyes, “I’m only going to be gone for an hour, it’s just a drive around the block with some friends.”

He chuckled, “I don’t care what you do, Y/N. I’ve been there before. Have fun and if you go to McDonalds bring me some fries, kay?”

You rolled your eyes, “whatever.” You playfully flipped him off before walking out of the house. You made sure to close the door softly behind you. Once you were in the clear you booked it down the street. You spotted Cassandra waving you down from a dark green Tahoe.

“This car is a piece of junk,” you commented as you got into the Tahoe.

“Hey, no disrespecting Hilda!” The driver who you assumed to be Jasons brother, exclaimed.

“She’s a piece of junk but she’s Marty’s piece of junk,” Jason commented.

“Correct!” Marty said. “Now let’s get this party started!”

Pedro woke up in a startle to the sound of his phone ringing, at first he had thought it was just his dream, but the sound slowly began to get louder and louder until finally he woke up. He groaned, “who the fuck is calling so early?” he muttered to himself.

“Hello?” he answered in an annoyed tone.

“Pedro?” he heard his sister on the other line, her voice sounded strain.

“Javiera?” Pedro quickly sat up.

“Pedro,” Javiera’s voice trembled, there was some ruffling sounds on the other line.

“Javiera?” No answer. “Javier, que te pasa?”

“Pedro?” Javiera’s husband had taken over the phone.

“Augustine? Que esta pasando?” (What’s happening) Pedro was no sitting on the side of his bed, he no longer felt drowsy.

Augustine sighed, “Pedro, no se como dicier te. Y/N snuck out a few hours ago,”

“Shit,” Pedro let out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding in. His mind had been racing to a million scenarios. “Well that’s a first,” he chuckled.

“Pedro,” Augustine said softly.

Pedro closed his eyes, the way Augustine said his name, he knew what it meant. “Is she okay?” Pedro asked as his voice trembled.

“She was in a car with a bunch of her friends and some drunk driver, he was driving over a hundred miles, the kid didn’t have a chance to react.”

“Augustine, is my baby okay?” Pedro was beginning to get ansty.

“She’s in the ICU,” Pedro could hear his sister crying in the background.

“Is she okay?” Pedro asked again.

“You need to get here as fast as possible, Pedro. She’s at Saint Mary’s Memorial Hospital, you know where that is?”

“Saint Mary’s, yeah,” Of course he knew where it was. He could never forget, it was the same hospital you were born at and now you were there again, but in different circumstances. Pedro was quick to hang up, calling his Director in the middle of night was something he would never do, unless it was something like this. Something like his daughter was hanging on by a thread and he didn’t care about anyones sleep, he just needed to get on the first plane back to New York.

The directors were understanding of the situation, they even helped Pedro get back to New York within the hour. He had never received treatment like that, but he was thankful for it.

Pedro had just a carry on, leaving most of his luggage back at the hotel with his assistant. He didn’t need much anyway, just the essentials.

Once he got out of the airport, he flagged down a taxi. The ride to the hospital seemed to be the longest ride ever. Pedro was anxious to get there, anxious to see you and to make sure you were okay. She’s in the ICU, Augustine’s voice kept repeating those words in his head like a broken record player. The sound of his sisters cries over the phone brought back memories he had thought he buried.

His thoughts were quickly interrupted by the brief halt of the car, Pedro looked out of the car window to see that he had arrived to his destination. “Thanks,” he said to the cab driver as he handed him some cash before bolting out of the car and into the hospital.

The sun was beginning to rise when Pedro finally arrived, he rushed over to the front desk. “May I help you, sir?”

“Uh- my, my daughter,” Pedro let out a shaky breath.

The receptionist knew that look too well, she had seen it so many times. “What’s the name?” she asked softly.

“Y/N Pascal.”

SHe was quick to type the name in, knowing that the last thing he wanted to do was wait any longer. “Take the elevator to floor three.”

“Thank you!” Pedro ran over to the elevator, punch the button for floor three.

He ran out of the elevator once they opened.

“Pedro!” He heard his sister exclaim.

Pedro let out a sigh of relief, he ran over to her and gave her a hug.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed.

“It’s alright,” he looked over at his nephews, they both were distraught of the situation. “You boys okay?”

Young Pedro looked over at his uncle, tears in his eyes, “I should’ve stopped her, Tio. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he pulled his nephew into the hug. Pedro didn’t know why he was trying to comfort everyone at the moment, maybe a part of him felt like it was his responsibility because he felt so much guilt. “Where is she?”

“The doctors have her in surgery right now, she had some internal injuries they hoped to repair.” Pedro choked back the tears, he sat down on one of the chairs nearby. “They said by the looks of the crash site, she got the worse of it. She was sitting in the spot the car impacted with.”

Pedro pinched the bridge of his nose, “How bad is it?”

“The doctors said something about possible physical therapy,” Javiera added. “It’s still all unknown at the moment.”

“This is all my fault.”

“Don’t say that, Pedro.”

“She isn’t that kind of kid, Javiera! She would’ve never done this unless she was really mad at me,” Pedro let out a shaky breath. Javiera placed a comforting hand on her brothers shoulder. “I can’t lose her, Javiera,” Pedro sobbed.

“I know,” she whispered. She let Pedro cry into her shoulder and he cried for a while. After about an hour, he began to calm down, everyone sat in silence as they waited for the doctors to come out. Hours passed by when finally a doctor walked out of the doubled doors and to the Pascal family.

“Family of Y/N Pascal?” the doctor nervously figeted with his hands.

Pedro stood up quickly, “How is she?”

The doctor cleared his throat, he never like this part of the job, speaking to the family. “There was a lot of damage and we did the best we could,” Pedro felt a sob make its way into his throat, he tried his best to hold it back, it wasn’t bad news yet. “But she’s steady now.” Pedro let out a deep breathe. “This isn’t the end of her journey yet, she has a long road of recovery. She’s lucky to be alive.”

Pedro had tears falling from his eyes, his baby girl was okay. “Thank you,” he said to the doctor, “Can I see her?”

“Of course, I’ll take you to her.” The doctor led Pedro through the doubled doors, “She’s in the post Surgery, we’ll be moving her back to the ICU later today.” The doctor stood beside one of the doors, “She’ll have a lot of wires surrounding her, it may look scary but it’s what’s keeping her alive. She might not wake up right away, if anything we don’t expect her to wake up for a few days. It’s common in severe crash victims,” the doctor explained. “The tube in her throat will be taken out once she can breathe on her own.”

“Can I touch her at least?”

The doctor nodded, “It’s like handling a newborn, you have to be a bit careful.” The doctor tried to give Pedro a reassuring smile.

“Thank you,” he said softly before opening the door. The doctor was right, the way the wires surrounded you scared Pedro. “Oh baby girl,” he said softly as he walked up to the bed. “I’m sorry,” he let out a sob. He sat on the chair beside your bed, taking your hand into his, he placed a kiss on the top of your hand. “I’m sorry I broke our promise, but you need to wake up for me okay?” He slowly moved a strand of hair out of your face, careful to not touch the tubing and wires. “Te quiero mucho, Y/N. No puedo vivir sin ti.” (I love you so much, Y/N. I can’t live without you).

As the days passed, Pedro stayed beside your bedside during the day and during the night. He never left your bedside, not even to shower although he was beginning to get remarks about how he smelled. He didn’t care, he wanted to make sure he was there when you woke up.

It had been a full week and you still hadn’t woken up. The doctors were beginning to worry, they started to do more tests to make sure they didn’t miss anything before or to see if anything new showed up.

“Pedro, you need to go home and at least shower,” Augustine said as he placed a plate of food on a small table nearby.

“I’m fine,” Pedro said as he kept his eyes on you. Augustine sighed, it was no use, there was really nothing that was going to convince Pedro to leave the room.

“Come on, Cariño,” Pedro said softly. “You need to wake up.” he squeezed your hand gently. Pedro was about to let go when he felt you squeeze his hand, his eyes widen and he squeezed your hand again. Few seconds later your squeezed his hand, “Yes!” he exclaimed. He got up from his chair, “She squeezed my hand!” he yelled out to the nurses that were outside the door. They came rushing in, beginning to check your pupils and your vitals.

“Get the doctor,” one of them commanded the other.

The doctor was ecstatic to see the vitals go up, “Y/N, if you can hear me, squeeze your dads hand.” You squeezed your dads hand again. Seconds later your eyes fluttered opened, you winced at the brightness of the room. You felt something lodge in your throat, you lifted your arm to touch it, “no, no we’ll take it out for you, dear.”

“She’s awake,” Pedro said in disbelief.

“We’ll need to get the tubing out,” the doctor said. Pedro got up from his spot on the bedside, let the doctor take the tubing out from your mouth. “Your mouth is gonna feel dry for a couple of days, it’s common,” he began to say as he checked your pupils again. “Do you know where you are?”

“The-” you coughed, a nurse handed your cup of water. “The hospital?”

“Good, what year is it?”

“Twenty Twenty Three.”

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“And who’s that?” The doctor pointed over at your dad.

“My dad,” you said softly.

The doctor smiled, “We’ll run some more tests later,” he said to your dad, “I’ll leave you two alone for a now.”

Your dad thanked the doctor, he waited until they all left to go back to his spot by the bedside. You bothe remained quiet for a few minutes, one waiting for the other to speak. The other trying to get the courage to speak.

You let out a shaky breath, “I’m sorry,” you whisepred. “It was really stupid.”

Pedro shook his head, pulling you into a warm embrace, “It doesn’t matter,” he said softly. “All that matter is that you’re here and you’re alive.” He let go of the embrace, holding your head in his hands, “that’s all that matters to me right now, okay?” You gave him a nod, “I thought I was gonna lose you,” he choked out.

“I’m sorry,” you trembled.

“Que paso, Amor? How did it happen?”

You shrugged, “One second we were heading back and the next thing I know, I heard screaming and it was dark,” you sniffled. “Is everyone else okay?”

Your dad nods, “You got the worse of it. Cassandra was pretty shooken up, but they all got minor scratches and concussions.”

“Lucky me,” you said sarcastically. Your dad kissed the top of your head, “I really am sorry about everything.”

“No, I’m sorry, I broke a promise.”

“I overreacted,” you confessed.

“I don’t think you did,” he said softly. “I mean, I get it, we had a promise I wouldn’t break promises or cancel on you for work, especially with thing like your tournament. I wouldn’t let you become one of those kids with a book on how their parent was the worst parent ever.” you chuckled, causing your dad to smile, “I broke that promise and it scared you, and I’m sorry.”

“Thank you and I’m sorry I overreacted and landed myself in the most expensive place on earth that isn’t Disneyland.”

Your dad let out a laugh, “Forgiven.”

“Forgiven,” you repeated. “Now, how bad is this?” you gestured to your broken leg, “Is my soccer career totaled?”

“Soccer career? I thought you wanted to become an actor like your old man?”

“Well, acting wasn’t my first choice, but depending on this, it might just become my first choice.”

Pedro rolled his eyes, “Well, you’ll have physical therapy for sure, but let’s talk about it when we get there.”

“Alright, but can we talk about something else?”

“Dime (tell me).”

“Can you go shower?” you scrunched up your nose, “I’m pretty sure your B.O. is what woke me up!”

Pedro rolled his eyes, “Alright, alright, I’ll call your tia over to be with you while I go shower.” Pedro watched as you covered your nose in exaggeration, usually he would say something petty, but right now he just wanted to admire you and the fact that you were still alive. “Te amo, mija.”

“Y yo a ti, papi,” you gave him a smile, knowing that everything was going to be okay and that if you did write a book in the future, it’d probably be about how you grew up blessed to be Pedro Pascal’s daughter.

Pedro Pascal Taglist: @Sophieelizabeth01 @tracysnookok @cilliansangel @change-the-world-someday @graciegoeskrazy

To be added CLICK HERE

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x daughter!reader #pedro pascal x daughter #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal platonic #pedro pascal x daughter reader #pedro pascal x teen #pedro pascal x teen reader #pedro pascal x teen!reader #pedro pascal x teen platonic #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal x teen!reader platonic #pedro pascal x daughter angst #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal dad #pedro pascal imagine

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bizarrelittlemew · 3 months

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okay. i just watched the movie Snakeskin (2001). i bought a physical dvd in the year of our lord 2024 because Taika has 6.5 minutes of screentime in it. and now i'm sitting here trying to process wtf i just watched asjdhfdjsk so here are the highlights (thank you Meow @blakbonnet for going through this experience with me)

first of all, enjoy these screenshots from the trailer (i'm still not sure if they're mandatory disclaimers?):

...but say yes to snake imagery, because there will be a lot of it

we are definitely in 2001. this is extremely apparent throughout the whole movie. but especially from this girl's hair

Taika's character (Nelson) and his girlfriend (Daisy, pictured above) drive around in a repurposed ice cream truck and sell drugs btw. it's called Mr. Trippy.

main character Alice (Melanie Lynskey) is a huge fan of ✨America✨. her best friend is in love with her but she only wants Bad Boys. also said friend's name is Johnny but it's actually Craig

ALSO Craig-slash-Johnny is played by Dean O'Gorman (Fili)??!?!?!?

their hobby is to drive around picking up hitchhikers but only those who look not boring

enter The American. this guy is the most American you have ever seen. americans wish they could be as American as this guy. no one else has ever Americaned harder.

as you can see, i'm not lying. he even says "howdy ma'am" so we're convinced he is a real American

three skinheads are after The American because he stole their drugs (i think). he also stole drugs from Nelson and Daisy, who now owe money and/or drugs to their boss, who also has beef with The American for reasons i'm still not totally sure of

The American not only steals drugs and money, he also has a real gun(!!!) and fucks pretty much everyone?

"darlin'. u gotta earn the raaaiht. ter wear snakeskins 😎"

oh my god the sunglasses emoji just reminded me of the fucking sunglasses oh no i'm not sure i can do this akjsdhjsk this will make sense later i promise

do not learn gun safety from this movie

at one point, there is a whole lotta sheep. we are, after all, in Aotearoa New Zealand. and ok this had the cutest moment of Taika yelling "SHEEPY" out of a car

there's a scene where uhm. uhhh no not gonna describe this i think but. yeah fair warning this movie has some period-typical homophobia let's just say 💀 this is the live reaction:

MOVING ON

if you enjoy the 2000s aesthetic of "look how edgy we are doing drugs" *colorful-haired people on couches in dark club* *echo-y laugh* *hallucinations* *it's mushrooms look it's mushrooms we're doing psychedelics* then this is the movie for you my friend

oh and Alice also did acid at some point while being very "i've totally done drugs before" about it (((doubt)))

GIRL GET UP FROM THAT DIRTY BATHROOM FLOOR

[New Zealand accent] "wow. six and acid." yes she is living all her american dreams as you can see

by nighttime, all three cars (main characters, mr. trippy, and the nazimobile) and the motorcycle (mr. drug boss) have made it pretty far up the mountain, it seems. cute moment between mr. drug boss and nelson. look how :D he is!

but you know a movie with Taika in it needs to have a father figure talk down to him so he gets very 🥺 right after this

lots of shit goes down (i won't spoil too much if by any chance you still want to watch this) and it turns out that the older skinhead guy is the best actor in the movie??

and NOW things get weird

Craig and The American have so much beef by now that they decide to solve it by russian roulette

Alice's reaction to this is something like "ugh, you guys are crazy, i can't watch this 🙄"

like she just walks away?? GIRL THEY'RE AIMING A REAL GUN AT EACH OTHER

she keeps COMPLETELY UNDERREACTING TO WHAT IS HAPPENING like (spoilers from now on) CRAIG IS SHOT AND KILLED and she doesn't even run over and she doesn't even say anything to The American?? WHO SHOT HIM???? he's just standing there??

and then. AND THEN.

ok this is where i fully lost it for several minutes and missed half the following scene. i was fucking HOWLING like actually crying with laughter, i couldn't see or breathe and my partner got worried ksjdhfdjsk ok so here's what happens

they're in the car. craig is obviously very dead. alice is kinda in denial i guess. The American tells her to shut his eyes and she's like why? BECAUSE HE DEAD GIRL!! but she doesn't, she doesn't shut his eyes, no, this is what she does instead

I COULD BARELY MAKE THIS GIF BECAUSE I KEPT LAUGHING TO THE POINT OF TEARS

NOT THE SUNGLASSES ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME. THE UNTAPPED MEME POTENTIAL HERE IS FUCKING RIDICULOUS

ANYWAY shortly after this we hear one of the funniest lines in the movie (and it's not even about the shooting and killing of Craig):

"fuck, Seth! this isn't fucking America, you can't just go around shooting everybody!"

oh yeah The American does have a name and it's Seth

i'll just post a few chat screenshots for the next part because i can't really describe it, i promise we're almost at the end

after some incredible visual effects™️, we end with Return of the Sunglasses (and me scaring my cats away because i was sobbing again)

i haven't even really talked about Taika's scenes much (the reason i watched this in the first place) because the ending took me OUT and honestly he is maybe the most normal person in this whole movie. one review (from the trailer) wrote this:

and yeah that may honestly be the best way to describe it. 10/10 movie watching experience, highly recommend. thank you for coming to my snek talk

#snakeskin (2001)#ida.stuff #🐭📓#anyway if you still wanna watch this movie hit me up lmao #i recommend drinking #but seriously i will go to bed now it's past midnight but i had to get this out #taika waititi

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linkedspirit-fanartfunart · 3 months

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Look out its a Linkblr Dashboard Simulator!

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🪶 redwingskies Follow

So who was gonna tell me the Surface is Real, huh? Who.

🎶 ocarina-macarina Follow

Where are you from?? What....what are you??? ....God?

🪶 redwingskies Follow

Nah turns out she's my best friend though.

🪶 redwingskies Follow

Hey btw, If I kill a god does that make me one? Is there like. Rules for this? Asking for a friend. (Like seriously. I don't care. He does.)

1,680 notes

🚋 train-life Follow

Today's Fact: Did you know Trains are the reason New Hyrule has Standardized Time Zones? As citizens needed to know when to get to a train station, the council lobbied for standardized time that could be applied precisely for travel by train! The entire modern perception of time is because of the Train!

⌛️ forestchild Follow

Thanks, I hate it. Lets go back to living by the sun rise and set.

🌸 dont-look-at-me Follow

??? We've always had standard time zones??? What are you talking about. Trains didn't invent that.

🚋 train-life Follow

...they literally did. I re-researched this to double check. What are YOU talking about?

🌸 dont-look-at-me Follow

Time zones? Like. The era of Legend, the Golden era, bullfish like that?

🚋 train-life Follow

... you can swear you know? I'm 12 not a baby.

🌊 kingoftheseagull Follow

you're HOW OLD? I thought you were a Royal Engineer???

🚋 train-life Follow

12? It's in my bio?

🌊 kingoftheseagull Follow

I love you but get the hell off of this website why are you here

🌟 excuuuse-me Follow

Can we go back to the weirdo who thinks Time Zones are HISTORICAL PERIODS?

🌸 dont-look-at-me Follow

Haha yea total weirdo, what, are they like 400 years old or something? Lol

🐴 goatman4life Follow

Actually I wanna get back to why a 12 year old has a job

1,203 notes

🐟 indigo-gos-official Follow

Hey anybody willing to lend me bail money? I'm short like 10 rupees and it's really annoying.

⌛️ forestchild Follow

Wait shit wrong account! Wrong account!!

🐴 goatman4life Follow

Why do you have access to a hyper-famous Zora Band's account??

⌛️ forestchild Follow

Their lead guitarist died in front of me and I am very nice. Now get me out of jail goatman.

23,045 notes

🌳 wildflowerwastaken Follow

#hi #i saw a cool bird today #the camera was left on selfie mode so it only got a picture of me squinting at it #the bird noticed the flash and it pecked me until I fell out of the tree #straight into a malice puddle #the bird was pretty tho #so I say my day went great!

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🌟 excuuuse-me Follow

Hey apparently I need to update people on my boundaries. So. Here is a list of what's okay:

Hugging

Kissing me

Kissing me directly on the lips

👀

Parasocial relationships where you praise me constantly <3

And this is NOT okay

Hunting me for my blood to revive the prince of darkness

Ignoring me

Thank you, that's really all, I'm kinda sad that this has to be said but clarity is wisdom and all.

👑 princess-of-hyrule Follow

Link. This is not what I told you to post.

🌟 excuuuse-me Follow

Well EXUSe ME if my boundaries look different than yours!!

25,690 notes

⚒️ smol-smithy Follow

Hey pulled the Four Sword again so we need help figuring out who gets to run the blog lol.

Thanks everybody

⏳️ forestchild Follow

Lol this loser doesn't know how to make sideblogs

🎶 ocarina-macarina Follow

The poll says "Who gets to be Link on MAIN" though, so maybe they do? They just wanna have one person in charge of the first blog?

⏳️ forestchild Follow

The path to truth is unity. Many voices can be heard within one "main".

-The Diety

⏳️ forestchild Follow

...ignore him, I've made him a sideblog and he refuses to use it.

⚒️ smol-smithy Follow

Hey wait no let him come back, he's the only smart person I've ever heard

-Green (?)

⚒️ smol-smithy Follow

I am going to kill you.

#we have all agreed to not utilize this blog until the poll is complete #so shut up green

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arabaka · 8 months

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i promised more reigen and gojo (I'll get back on that grind soon) but I'm thinking about a follow up to messing with roommate denji, specifically telling your friends about it afterwards. like

"denji finally did something and we fucked after he caught me getting off on his pillow. I wonder how I can mess with him now."

and this is very specific but imagining him holding you up against a wall while he holds your legs and presses his forehead up against yours while fucking is doing something to me like hdhfhfhhfhf

(this fic changed my life BTW highly recommend if you haven't already read it https://www.tumblr.com/tteokdoroki/709164167622508544/%F0%91%8A%A1-hi-hi-pussy-drunkdenji-who-has-a-habit?source=share)

-sculpture anon (manifesting ask worthy gojo horny thoughts)

"denji fucks like a rabbit slay!!" is killing me i need more of this in my life...

can we both just live in this roommate!denji world together?? please??? im salivating...................

₊˚ʚ ☁️ ₊˚ ♡ ﾟ. content warnings ⤸ aged up!denji x afab reader. nsfw. wall fucking. cunnilingus. vague mention of possible possessive behavior.

your legs dangling off his forearms, muscles tensed from how much he's bullying his cock into you. your bodies sticking together with sweat, every inch of your skin glistening with either your juices or globs of his cum from his earlier orgasms because the thing about denji is... when you get him started, you're in it for the long haul.

he's a huge fan of edging, though i imagine this is something he learns because of you. let's be honest, you're taking that man's v-card- er, actually he'd be giving it to you FREELY.

"pussy so fuckin'... tight, shit. can barely move... open up, will ya?" he's nipping on the shell of your ear, fangs greeting your flushed skin before his tongue. man is nasty and depraved when he ruts into you, hips oscillating in a waving motion and smacking your cunt full of his long (and i mean long) cock.

probably eats your pussy against the wall all sloppy like too. he doesn't have a rhythm and honestly, probably isn't that good at it because he's focusing on the taste and just wants it ALL so there's no method to his madness. but he pops a finger in your pussy, thrusting it to the knuckle and the most loud and wet shlicking sounds coming when he decides to extend it to two.

the only bad thing about fucking your roommate on the regular is the man can't shut up about it. he's far too proud to keep it to himself. probably territorial too... so watch your back when you host another party and try cozying up to a rando.

#.˚₊ ੈ ʚ 📮 ɞ ˚₊ ‧ˋ*⁀➷ ꒰ mail time! ꒱#.˚₊ ੈ ʚ 💌 ɞ ˚₊ ‧ˋ⁀➷ ꒰ love letters to denji! ꒱#denji x you #denji x reader #denji x y/n #denji hayakawa x you #denji hayakawa x reader #denji hayakawa x y/n #csm smut #csm x you #csm x y/n #csm x reader #denji smut #denji hayakawa smut #.˚₊ ੈ ⚒️ ˎˊ˗ ꒰ sculpture anon! ꒱

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months

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AITA for telling an old man to kill himself on his birthday?

btw this has transphobia homophobia racism in it so yeah be aware

i (cisM22) have a trans girlfriend (F23). we live in a relatively liberal area and, not to say that she isn't beautiful, but she doesn't pass all the way. but she has long hair and she was wearing a dress that day, so she looked very feminine.

we were on a date at a relatively fancy restaurant. we had reservations and everything. we sit down at our table and next to us as these six white old people having a fucking ball. they were loud as shit and obviously drunk but my gf and i just ignored it for a while because we wanted to have a good time.

one of them had a birthday cake set down in from of him and their drinks were topped off. and then, loud as shit, these wrinkly fucking ballsacks start spewing conservative hate. something about the florida anti-trans bills and how they should just round them together and shoot them. my girlfriend looked visibly uncomfortable so i called for a waiter and asked if we could get a table far away from them.

i guess they heard me and one of the old women looked at my girlfriend and murmured, "i guess he just couldn't handle the truth." and i felt nothing but rage, so i said, "what truth? that her tits are better than yours?" and from there it just went downhill.

i honestly can't remember much of the argument. it only lasted thirty seconds but in those thirty seconds, my girlfriend and one of the waiters were trying to calm us down. i had six crusty ass white people dogging on me, calling my girlfriend slurs, calling me slurs (i'm mexican), and i was saying shit about their dementia-ridden asses are gonna die alone in a nursing home cause they kids probably don't even talk to them cause "where the fuck they at gramps".

eventually the birthday bitch called me a faggot and i was like "this faggot is telling you to fucking kill yourself sir, shove that walking stick up your ass" and by that point they got security to escort me and my girlfriend out.

my girlfriend was in tears and really overwhelmed after that. she didn't say anything the whole ride home until we got there. she said that while she appreciated me defending her, i just caused an unnecessary scene, and telling that man to kill himself was too far. i apologized to her, even though the only thing i really feel bad about is making her cry, and i promised i wouldn't do it again.

i don't regret anything i did honestly. i just feel bad about ruining our date and making her cry. i don't think we should've been the ones to get kicked out of that restaurant either. i don't know if those old fucks got the boot, but i'm praying they break a hip or something.

aita?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #slur cw

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sonik-kun · 3 months

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"If Jiang Cheng is all about debts, he should repay his debts to Wen Qing and Wen Ning!"

What debts? The two were from a sect that decimated his own. Be it willingly or not, they occupied the burned remains of his sect and helped the war effort on the Wen side (whilst assisting WWX and JC, but bear in mind, WQ only did it begrudgingly due to the risks associated with asissiting them. It's funny that y'all would jump to her defence whilst shitting on JC when she was in the exact same position he was in btw. But that's a debate for another day~).

Expecting him to pay a debt to the people that were, to at least some degree, complicit in numerous genocides is pretty messed up.

Even then, JC DID vouch for them to express his gratitude for helping him and WWX to escape and get their parent's remains back. But the other leaders shut him down when he did and scoffed at him. I feel like I've said this so many times on here, but he was in no position to argue any further on the matter. Especially when a more established sect leader like LXC was shut down, too.

As for the core transfer that he didn't consent to, how can he thank someone for that when he never knew it had happened in the first place?? Or asked for, for that matter?? The whole thing made him feel shitty anyway when he found out about it.

WQ and WWX, although both had good intentions, still had no right to experiment on him like that and keep this very invasive secret from him for so long, too. You can't just do something for someone without them knowing or consenting and expect them to repay that "debt" when you find yourself in a pinch. That's kinda like blackmail and is very coercive.. Something WWX and the Wen sibs are certainly not..

Then there's the situation with WN. Sure, he could be thankful for WN helping to get him to safety and treating his wounds (which, see my earlier point, JC did express gratitude.) But that opportunity kinda all fizzled out when WN killed JZX (I know it was an accident due to him being under the influence of DC but let's be real. That resentment is going to be there. Espeically since the topic greatly upsets JL soooo).

Even all that aside, you seriously can't expect JC to "repay his debts" and help WN and WQ out of that situation when the whole CW was against them. Helping them was suicidal and would bring on the wrath of the other major sects. And we all saw how that went for WWX (as JC rightly predicted)..

Had JC sided with the Wens and took them in to "pay his debts," he would have dragged the whole of his sect into the siege that happened soon after. This would mean more innocents would have been involved, and it would be the destruction of Lotus Pier all over again (and quite possibly the destruction of the Jiang, too). JC had to prioritise his own people. He would be a shit leader otherwise.

I feel as though some of y'all put some unrealistic expectations on JC when assessing his character. Especially when you compare him to the others in the story (returning back to my point I made earlier about him and WQ and how similar they both are).

On the topic of "debts" though, I would also like to argue that doing a good deed out of the kindness of your heart shouldn't be seen as a debt. And if you do something with the expectation that someone would do something for you back in kind, wouldn't that make you a shitty person? Is that what you're implying the Wen sibs are (or should be) ? Self-serving people who only help others if something is to be gained? 🤨

But what about the "debt" JC goes on about, you might ask? Oh, you mean the PROMISE that WWX made HIMSELF? That he would stay by JC's side? And be his subordinate? To fulfil his role as promised and expected of him?

That wasn't a debt.

WWX construed it as being one, but it doesn't fit the criteria, honestly. What WWX had was an obligation. He made that promise himself, and JC held him to it. It wasn't one JC forced him into as some form of servitiude, nor was it made in return for bed and board or something.

We know JC isn't truly about holding debts over others. If he was, he would have dangled his own sacrifice over WWX and used that to guilt trip him instead. Or force him to pay him back in kind. But he never did. Why? Because he loved WWX, and he didn't want him to feel "indebted" to him. Especially when WWX revealed his feelings of "letting go and moving on" to him.

You could go on forever about debts and who owes who what, but the thing is, each of these characters have hurt eachother in one way or another that at this point, the notion of who owes what doesn't matter anymore. The situation is far more complex than that. That's why all "debts" were dropped at the end, and JC and WWX just moved on. I feel that was the message MXTX tried to convey in her work. About moving on and letting go of grudges. Perhaps JC antis should take on that advice? And move on too?

#canon jiang cheng #jiang cheng #jiang wanyin #mo dao zu shi #mxtx mdzs #mdzs #the untamed #the grandmaster of demonic cultivation #again not character bashing here #but looking at things from JCs pov i can see why he wouldn't want to help them tbh #we cant all be crazy heroes like our mc 😂#and thats okay #we all have our priorities #wwx prioritised the lives of the persecuted and jc priotised the lives of his sect and his remaining family (and arguably the cw too)#and both are valid #enough talking about debts when none existed in the first place

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prototypelq · 3 months

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Today, is the first day in 23 months when I finally heard some good news from within russia, about politics no less.

As you probably haven't heard, because this theme is being agressively ignored by all possible media, 15-17 march is the date of next presidential election in russia. If you have laughed after reading this statement, then congratulations, you pretty much know everything about it, hence why no media coverage. But there should be.

Ekaterina Shulman, who has a PhD in political sciences, who has been one of the most enlightening sources on all matters russian-politics and autocrasy-related, has been handedly calling the oncoming election an 'electoral event', meaning the current system will not allow any real election to take place (and it never really did), but will instead make an illusion of the 'winner' being fair.

(btw 'election' advertisements and notices have been going under the banner of the letter V, which you can consider fair since 'election' is 'выборы' in russian, so using the same letter makes sense, but we all know who this big letter references, don't we, same way as all the militarist zealots are uniting under letter Z)

Yesterday, she held a stream with Boris Nadezhdin, who is currently running for presidential candidate by trying to gather citizen votes.

The reason you should care about this, is that Nadezhdin is the only candidate, who is openly critical of Putin,

he has been the public voice of opposition for the russian autocracy for more than 20 years,

the stream he held with Ekaterina could be considered an extremely risky move, enough to send him to jail for this move alone, since she has been declared a foreign agent for a long time (current brand of quality for russians),

he has opened up multiple vote booths across the world, so that political refugees (which is exactly what all the russians abroad are) could safely vote, as the government has already considered denying them their constitutional right to do so,

and he has presented the plan for his presidential reign, starting with: releasing all the political prisoners and immediately starting peace talks with Ukraine.

If you think that those are just empty words, well, they might be, though I can only pity the person who would dedicate more than 20 years of their life on empty promises, especially ones that can easily get you imprisoned for life or killed. I am not joking.

The reason there is 'unanimous agreement' of russians and the media of russians regarding the Invasion of Ukraine and other political topics, is that the political filed in this forsaken country has been carefully curated and all unsactioned-by-Kremlin opposition immediately eliminated for longer than I have been alive.

I live with the weight of just living my life in this country being a daily contributor to committing war crimes in Ukraine, and inside Russia. The reason I'm writing this in english on tumblr, which, hey, lgbt is considered extremist propaganda and will get you in jail, and tumblr even markets itself as the most lgbt-friendly social site, is that there is no way to talk about this in russia. And each time, I browse the politics or russia tags here I see the same zealous aggression which russians are called terrorists for, directed back at all russians. I took it for a long time, because there was no way to dispute this claim, I felt and continue to feel shame for this forsaken country or being related to it, and because every day this country exists ukrainian and russian people are forced into the meatgrinder.

No more. or well, no more feeling shame over it, the guilt will remain long after even the end of the Invasion.

Boris Nadezhdin's (btw his surname almost literally translates to Hopeful) electoral booths have been having full rows of people wishing to sign a petition to make him electable for presidential run. People in Siberia stood in line in -40 C (granted, normal siberian weather, but still, you wouldn't want to be out and about for too long in that kind of cold, even when accustomed to it) to sign a petition for him. At the moment of writing he has reached around 70k, out of 100k needed to be legally allowed to petition for presidential run (sidenote: that number is astronomically high for a number of reasons, so him getting that close is a big win too)

youtube

(this video covers the current news of Nadezhdin's campaign pretty well, it also has hand-done english subs)

So yes. You're not allowed to call all russians terrorists any longer, untill they are proven Zealots. There are literally thousands of russian people voting against Putin's reign, they are donating money to this campaign to help it grow too.

In a country, which has never really been a free space to be able to discuss politics, much less actively participate in them or have an informed opinion on them, and which has spent decades curating political apathy in it's people, these events are WILD.

Granted, the possibility of Nadezhdin being allowed to actually run for president is astronomically small, the country is still an autocrasy. Still, participation this high is anything-politics related is phenominal, and I wish to celebrate that, whatever may come in the future.

Here are some additional russian sources available to english-speakers to learn more:

The Russian State of Mind, a brilliant lecture by Ekaterina Shulman, PhD in political science, updated with data from october 2023

Maxim Katz channel, he covers politics and subtitles his videos by hand in english, I've linked another video of his above

Meduza newsletter has an english department

Tamara Eidelman covers history, mythology and related topics, her lectures are fascinating to listen to and have english voiceover

Yuri Dud does interviews with english subs

Any content creator with the (obligatory) foreign agent (иностранный агент) warning is good to listen to. This means the author said something not to the current governmen'ts liking, or not Enough liking of russian system, so good for them for having an actual opinion.

#first voting in my life and this is the stakes im working with yaaaay #i get why people are calling russians terrorists but i am so tired of it #now i have literal prove it's not true and you should take a closer look at the facts #the problem with politics is that they are just too complicated for any ordinary person to make sense of #but when the question is 'do you support killing people' there is only one answer #russian invasion of ukraine #russia #ukraine #russia is a terrorist state #i hope one day that tag changes to putin is a terrorist state #putin #he is a definitive war criminal and must be judged in world court #Youtube

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kaylas-world-0 · 6 months

Note

Idea! How about Bullfrog being reunited with Reader after he's freed from his execution? Wholesome reunion Q_Q

A/N: I love this one omg Also I'm making this a two part fic, if you don't mind~ It's getting a bit too long lol The next part will be much longer and will have the wholesome reunion I promise. But I'm doing this because I added a bit something~ We are rescuing him. (This part might be a bit cringe I'm so sorry for that.)

Bullfrog x h!reader

Warnings: heavhy spoiler warning, angst, panic attack, guns

Masterlist

Word Count: 2k

Taglist: @blorbostation

Btw does anyone want to be in the tag list?

Execution

"Today also marks the beginning of the hearing of Bullfrog, Dolph Laserhawk's partner in crime. He's currently being held at the MegaCity 1 courthouse—"

The TV remote fell out of your hand. You were just about to change the channel. You didn't like Rayman's show at all, but…

"What the fuck? This has to be a joke." That was the first thing you uttered, your form shaking. Your mind still couldn't perceive the person whose picture you saw on TV.

"Bullfrog..." you muttered. It has to be a joke, r-right? A cruel, sick joke. He can't be caught.

Laserhawk? You heard about that guy before. The fuck Bullfrog been doing with him? Why didn't he tell you anything?!

After weeks of not even hearing from him... he shows up in your TV being announced to be caught?

Your weak legs couldn't be able to carry your weight anymore, you fell on your knees, your hands trying to support your body as you gasp for breath. God, no, please no. This can't be happening. He said he will be fine! The last time you saw him. He PROMISED!! He has to be fine! This has to be some kind of trick!!!

But you knew it wasn't. This time he was caught. You don't know how. But he did. And he is in trouble.

You shook your head, No. It's not gonna end like this. Not on your watch. "H-he needs help." You sniffed, and glared at the screen.

"And he will get one." This time you will be the one to help him out.

You quickly got up and rushed inside your room with a new found hope. You were hiding some guns and weapons that might be useful one day. You can’t know what would happen anytime if you are living with an assassin, right?

A plan forming in your head. Without wasting any time you picked up a bag and stuffed inside of it with weapons that could help you.

You paused, your hand hovered over the guns. You grunted, you don’t want to actually kill anyone. You only loaded your bag with an ax, electric shocks and tranquilizer guns. You shook your head, you never knew what could happen. You pick up the smallest of them all and stuff it in your bag.

You picked up your bag and rushed outside of your house. Let’s visit a court.

You stood outside of the building, observing it. You didn't need to since you were coming here you searched about literally everything about this place. Well, the best things could help you was the place's blueprints and guards routine. You knew they wouldn't let you get inside with your bag that easily. So you are gonna choose a bit more risky way to get in.

You approached the building. You were repeating inside your head to relax. At the entrance, you saw the security guards checking the people and their bags with a device. You reassure yourself that you got this. When it was your turn, you threw a small device you were holding in your palm at the device held by the security. This disabled his device.

"What are you here for?"

"My father have a hearing today. I can't miss it and I don't have much time to lose either. My little sister waiting for me back home." He nodded at that and quickly checked on your bag and your clothes. He nodded for you to walk pass. You thanked him and walked past him. You heaved a sigh. Now you just had to find the room where Bullfrog was being held captive.

You quickly and attentively searched around the court. After walking past a few rooms you find a corridor cleared out of people, and at the end of it two men were guarding a huge door. You stealthily watched them from the sidelines for a while and glared. Good. You found him.

You carefully turned around and glanced. Noone was there. Great. You pulled out your tranquilizer gun and pointed it at them. You hoped the accuracy lessons you've been studying all this time would pay off.

You shot one of them and before the other could react you quickly shot him too. You sighed in relief as both fell on the ground unconscious. You were actually really relieved.

You quickly rushed to their side. Okay, maybe you shouldn't have bothered bringing a gun. You could use their gun to free him right?

You decided to carry both of their bodies inside so as not to attract anyone's attention. You grabbed one of the man's hands and pulled him towards you, embracing him and opening the door with your shoulder and dragging him in. He was so heavy that the moment you stepped inside, you lost your balance and fell face down. The worst part was that you fell on the man you were dragging. When you realized you were face to face with him, you struggled not to yelp and immediately pulled yourself back in disgust. You rubbed your hands on your clothes.

You heard a muffled voice calling your name. Your eyes widen with the familiar accent. You glanced back inside. There he was being imprisoned in a transparent orange box. You jumped to your feet but before you could run up to him you paused and glanced at the mans scattered on the ground.

You stuttered out frustered and pointed a finger up, "Gimme a sec." Bullfrog watched you struggle while you carried both men inside, he was really impressed but that could be said another time. Right now he has other important things to discuss with you.

You dusted your hands and sighed when you were finally able to close the doors.

"Did you kill them?" He doubted you did but if you did his mind would be blown a bit more.

"Nah. They are sleeping. I shoot them with a tranquilizer gun." You showed him your gun with a grin.

He wasn't smiling, yes, he was happy to see you but not like this. "You shouldn't have come."

"And let them make you their little prisoner? You should have known better."

"You don't understand–"

"No, you don't understand. I'm trying to save you here. So, help me will ya? You might by any chance know the password?"

"Non…"

"Guess so… Now, lemme work." You opened your bag and pulled your ax out.

"If you get caught–"

"I will not–"

"If you do, I will never forgive myself."

You rolled your eyes and approached the password, maybe malfunctioning it could help, "And why is that? It was my choice to come to you."

"I don't want you to be here. It's dangerous."

You paused, your heart skipping a beat, "Don't you think I don't know that? I know the risks."

"I am sure you are aware, I'm just merely reminding you how bad it could be to be caught trying to help a 'terrorist' escape."

"I will help you escape no matter what." You growled and raised your ax.

"Don't do anything stupid before thinking–!!"

" 'Do not do anything that you will regret' Is this what you are trying to say?! I'm trying to save your ass here and you are dismissing it?! Just let me help you get out of this place! You saw how I got inside without getting caught! You think I am inept–"

"I will be executed soon." Your eyes widen. "I'm not questioning your skills or looking down on you, you know. I know my time is limited, I don't want to lush away but I don't have any choice. I'm really glad to see you, believe me. I didn't want to die without seeing you one last time. But you shouldn't be here. Go. If they catch you... I... I don't want them to hurt you because of me. Je t'aime—"

You quickly walk in front of him, "No, I don't want to listen to this. What you just said is even more reason for me to help you out! And.I.am.not.going.anywhere.until.you.are.freed. I don't care what they would do to me I would rather die trying to help you. If it meant to save you, I'll do anything. And if you talk nonsense like that again, I'll beat you myself when you get out of here. So, back to that hopeful and positive frog that I love, because this conversation is starting to bore me."

His eyes widened with that. A bittersweet smile forming on his lips and he chuckled weakly. He pressed his hand where yours pressing on the other side. "Je t'aime tellement."

You smile at that. Your grip tightened on your ax. "Now where were we?"

"I believe you were about to rescue me?"

You smirked, "Ah, yes." You walked towards the password and raised your ax, you cut the device in half and the electricity from it spread around. You turned around, expecting to see Bullfrog freed, but he was still imprisoned. You shook your head at this, "Okay that didn't work. We'll try another way."

"You don't have much time, mon amour. Be quick."

You gripped your ax and ran towards him. You swing the ax on it with all your strength, but you could only leave a scratch. You stepped back, out of breath, and immediately reached for your bag. You took out your stun gun and shot it with the highest voltage, but it didn't work. Your worries and fear were growing more and more. You looked at your bag, out of breath. There was nothing else you could use.

Bullfrog watched your despairing form, the little hope that had revived within him vanishing. A sad smile formed on his lips, as he hummed, "You know... I was stunned the moment I saw you carrying that man through the door. I really didn't expected it. I have to say I'm really impressed and proud. And while swinging that ax and shooting that gun… You looked really h—"

You perked up, "Gun! Wait! Wait! What if I use one of the soldier's guns? Would that damage this damn glass?"

He paused, "Uh, Je ne sais pas…"

You quickly went to the men and picked up their guns, "Okay, if this works… you might wanna step a bit aside."

He quickly walked back and pressed his back on the wall with a thumbs up.

You glared and started to shoot the guns towards the glass, nearly emptying the guns. But still no progress. You groaned in frustration. If guns doesn't work either what the fuck do you gonna do.

"What the fuck these things made off?" You scoffed. You throw the guns away.

"Maybe you should start thinking of going back before someone comes in." He hesitantly informed you.

"I said I am not going back and I will not. If I can't save you then… I'll wait the time with you." You sit beside him.

"Don't be like that, you still have a lot to do!"

"Well, none of that will matter if you are not by my side!"

He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out of his mouth. He shook his head and sat down. After a few minutes of silence he sighed.

"What if I told you that there might be another way?"

You tiredly chuckled at that, "Uh-huh, Like what?"

"When they take me out of here, I will go to court and from there I will most likely be executed. This is much more dangerous and risky but—"

Your eyes widen, "Then you want me to save you?"

"Oui. You need a good plan and be cautious. And… you need to kill. I'm really sorry for forcing you something like this. But, I'm telling you this again, you don't have to."

You frowned but it quickly turned into a glare, "I will do it." You get up on your feet as he glances up at you. You smiled warmly at him.

"Wait for me."

"I will. Be careful."

You smiled with a new found hope and quickly got back to your bag, gathered your things and opened the door. You paused and glanced back at him. He pressed his hands on the wall with a smile, he shiled his hands around his mouth, huffed on the glass making a steam and drew a heart on it. You couldn't help but smile at that. You wave at him and carried the guards back and press them on the door along with their guns as if they fall asleep and quickly rush out of the corridor. Before you got out of the court you glanced back.

"I'll save you I promise."

#bullfrog x reader #bullfrog #captain lazerhawk spoilers #captain lazerhawk #reader #x reader #allenwrites #so sorry that I have to cut this part in half

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noellefan101 · 6 months

Note

But miss noodle what if we did chose Scara <33

oh my oh my anon, you´re a feisty one indeed-... say less ig

Characters: Scaramouche x gn reader, Kazuha x gn reader

Warnings: yandere themes, killing/murder, suicide(more like murder disguised as suicide), kissing, modern au,

part 2-ish to this

Note: 'miss noodle' omg i love it, also imma work on something fluff next bc omg this is a lot for me, so yeah. i didn´t have many ideas for this, if you want though you can request something specific so i know how to do it(not shaming anyone btw, you don´t have to make it complicated or advanced). and my computer and charger finally works(i got a new charger), i love youuuu

You chose him, you finally chose him. You can´t choose Kazuha anymore anyway, he already made sure that you can´t.

He wasn´t expecting you to turn up to his door, ever, yet there you were in all your beauty and... crying? oh right he almost forgot how he made Kazuha commit "suicide", but what he didn´t think would happen was that you came to him for comfort. he was happy about it, of course he was, but he just didn´t understand, why him? but he could figure that out another time, right now you came back to him and that was all that mattered right now, you only have to worry about you and him for now.

He was quick to hug you tightly to his chest when he had gotten his thoughts together, not letting go until you asked him to or never. As he stroked your hair for comfort his thoughts started to go wild again, what if you found out it was him, would you then hate him again... he stopped himself before his thoughts could get any worse, you were never leaving him again, he´ll do anything to make you stay. make you stay with him. even if that meant killing the rest of your friends and family, so you only had him left, had him to go to.

He would give you anything you wanted, your favorite food, drink, plushy anything you needed or wanted he would get for you. he wouldn´t let anyone hurt you, and if they did... no he shouldn´t think about that now, you were safe in his arms, you are in his arms. you can´t leave him now, you already chose him, the better him, the one who won´t hurt you ever. now you can´t choose anyone else, just him. and he´ll do better than before, he promises he´ll try for you, just for you.

As long as you are with him he won´t hurt you, as long as you don´t question him for his actions, its all for your protection he swears it is. all he wants to do is protect you, protect you from the world, from the longing eyes of strangers, that he´ll end up killing if they look for too long.

He´ll make sure you´ll choose him forever, and only him. He´ll do anything to make you choose him, anything.

Thank you for reading, its not the best but i think its ok ig, luv ya-Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

#sent: anon #alex answers #genshin impact #genshin x reader #gn reader #noelle´s maiden #yandere scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha x reader

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piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 4 months

Note

I'm loving all your wonderful fics. If you are still interested in prompts, would you consider one that relates to your recent sick fic: Ed telling Stede about the past situation where he had to juggle leading his crew through a storm while stitching himself up?

Ough yes good prompt!! This one made me sad, I love it.

Send me a prompt and I'll write a 1k word fic! (still accepting prompts btw, can't promise I'll get to all of them but if I'm inspired I'm doing it!)

Ed told the story like he thought it was supposed to be funny.

“So there we are,” he said, leaning over the dinner table. They’d just finished eating, and Ed had lit his pipe, and yeah, at first, the story had been fun. “Now, remember, I’ve been a captain for all of-”

“Three months,” Stede nodded, demonstrating his active listening to Ed’s story.

“Three months,” Ed repeated. “Maybe ninety days strung together, right? I’m barely twenty-five. Barely even had Blackbeard’s black beard. Mostly just a scraggly thing stuck to my chin. And that raid fuckin’ rung me out. But I made it! Not a single casualty on my crew, not one.”

“Bet the other crew couldn’t say the same,” Stede laughed, and Ed laughed with him, and Stede was dreamily thinking about how Ed must have looked, so young but already so brilliant, so confident, so-

“But I didn’t know then what I know now,” Ed went on, taking a couple puffs from his pipe. “And I didn’t notice my helmsman pointing us right into the squall. Barely had time to get away from the ship we’d been scrapping with before we hit it, head-on.”

Stede shivered. Ed’s storytelling voice never failed to capture his attention.

“And, remember,” Ed continued, “I’m trying to hide that I’m bleeding all over the fuckin’ place.”

“Wait,” Stede interrupted, raising a hand before Ed could continue. “Bleeding?”

“Well, yeah, I told you the raid rung me out pretty good,” Ed shrugged. “I’d been so busy watching what my crew were doing I was hardly paying attention to myself. Reckon I still - yeah, look.”

Ed adjusted in his seat, hitching up his shirt and pulling the waistband of his pants down with his thumb, running his finger along the faded, jagged scar that ran from right under his ribs to to the top of his hip.

“Got me pretty good,” Ed said with a chuckle.

Stede kissed his fingers, then reached out to press them to the old scar, and Ed covered Stede’s hand with his own to keep it there.

“What did you do?” Stede asked.

“What I had to,” Ed said, pulling his shirt back down, taking another puff of his pipe, and getting right back into his storytelling voice. “I’d been thinking I needed to go and stitch myself up, right? But by the time we’re in it, rain’s already coming down in sheets, and this crew is still new to my ship, and they’re new to me, and I’m new to them. So I tied myself to the wheel, and-”

Stede felt his eyes get wider and the pain in his chest get deeper as Ed went on with the story, telling Stede about how he’d tied himself to the wheel to avoid sliding right off, shouting orders to his crew, yelling at his first mate to take some younger sailors who were panicking below decks before they got everyone killed.

He told him about how he’d only stopped once he was starting to get dizzy from how much he was bleeding. He’d made up some excuse to run below decks, grab a sewing needle, and get about halfway through sewing himself up before someone called for him.

He told him how he’d had to cling to the railing for dear life because his legs were so shaky.

He’d tied a scrap of canvas, torn from a sail by the winds, around his middle to try and control the bleeding.

By the time he’d been able to finish stitching himself back up, he said, laughing like it was just some slight misfortune, he’d been so weak he’d tied himself to the wheel again, just to stay upright. It had been hours after that until he’d been able to sit down.

And Ed must have realized, finally, Stede didn’t think this story was as fun as he did, because he was frowning, by then. “Pretty cool, right? Tell ya, I was a tough little fucker.”

“How are you laughing at this?” Stede finally managed to ask.

Ed looked surprised. “I mean, if you can’t laugh, what can you do?”

Stede pursed his lips. “Why didn’t you get help?”

Ed blinked.

“Couldn’t,” he said, like it was obvious. “Told you, I was young, most of these guys were twice my age. Any weakness and…y’know.”

Stede swallowed, imagining it. Ed gritting his teeth through the pain, afraid to let anyone see. Slipping on the deck, unsure if it was the rain or his own blood wetting the boards. Hinging his bets on a scrap of canvas tied around his waist.

“Hey, Stede, babe!” Ed snuffed out his pipe and reached across the table, taking one of Stede’s hands to press to his own chest, so Stede could feel the steady heartbeat beneath his palm. “I’m alright, see? I’m right here.”

Stede clenched his fingers in Ed’s shirt. “You know,” he said, “that you can come to me if you need anything? Anything at all? You know that, right?”

“Yeah, of course I know that.” When Stede cupped Ed’s face in his hand, Ed’s hand came up to cover his, nuzzling his face into his palm. “I know I’m safe with you.”

And Stede wished he could go back, to save Ed from all that pain, but - he could be there for him now, and that would have to be enough.

A few days later, while working on repairing a section of their roof, Ed hit his thumb with a hammer.

It was a tiny injury. Barely anything at all, especially not compared to that story.

But Ed came down to find Stede, working on the walls, and he showed him his bruised, sore thumb.

“Kiss it better?” Ed asked.

Stede obliged happily, of course, and Ed might’ve looked sheepish at first, but soon he was soaking up the attention. Stede couldn’t go back and fix everything, couldn’t save Ed from any pain, but he could help him feel safe now - and that was enough.

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd fic #my fics

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thedeviltohisangel · 1 month

Note

not sure if you’re still looking for blurb requests but what about bucky talking in his sleep about cass and the boys giving him so much shit for it? love your writing btw

All The Things I Did (Interlude): Four Times They Speak About Each Other And One Time They Spoke To Each Other

a/n: ok i for some reason really put cass through it in this. i guess it was her turn. BUT one of these is an episode 9 breadcrumb and one of these is a post-war baby breadcrumb. happy to discuss any of these in greater details//answer any q's about these little snippets. loving our little sleepovers so those will be continuing and interlude requests always open. see you all in my inbox!

tw: miscarriage

One: Whatever Our Souls Are Made Of, His And Mine Are The Same

Cass was restless on the forest floor. Her sleeping bag wasn’t keeping her warm in the cold German night, the fire merely embers and her heart unsettled.

“John. I’m sorry.” They hadn’t separated in England on the best of terms. She hadn’t meant anything she had said to him. Hadn’t really taken this mission to Berlin just so he could see what it felt like to worry about someone. Had tried to apologize before she left but hadn’t been able to find the words. “Don’t leave me. Please.”

Her nightmares were plagued with images of planes falling from the sky and parachutes drifting over enemy lands. “No, John, wait!” She couldn’t let him get on that plane. Couldn’t let him get on without knowing she wanted all the things he wanted. A future and a forever. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. I’m sorry. I promise.” Cass couldn’t make the nightmares stop. It was the emotions of this assignment and the emotions of learning that she was in love with John Egan. The emotions of realizing one wrong move and he could be gone from her life forever. One wrong move and she could be the one that never made it home to him. “I love you, John. Please. I love you.”

“Almost woke you up last night. You sounded like you were in pain.” They were staking out a compound on the outskirts of Berlin, Cass peering at it through binoculars. “Have something to do with that pilot who looked liked he wanted to kill me for sharing a drink with you?”

“I’m good, Will. But thanks. Sorry for keeping you up.” The last thing she wanted was to discuss John with him. Yes, John had wanted to kill him. But not just because of the drink they were sharing.

“For what it’s worth, you’re here because you’re the best. You’ll get home to him.” That was, if she hadn’t burnt it all down.

Two: To Live For The Hope Of It All

It was just the two of them. It was a sunny day and he had taken her to the wildflower field. He was laughing and smiling and she was glowing and blushing.

“You’re dangerous. Making it so I could get used to this. Want to get used to this,” John whispered as she leaned forward to tuck a flower behind his ear. “How do I look?”

“Like a prince,” she teased. “Very handsome, Major.” He leaned forward and captured her lips with his own.

“I love you, Cass.” She beamed.

“I love you, too, John.”

It was the laughter of Gale Cleven that had Bucky’s eyes fluttering open. Cass was nowhere to be found. He could hear rain pattering outside. There was nothing warm and loving about the rows of beds that held less and less men every day.

“What’s so funny?” he groaned as he turned towards his friend.

“I love you, Cass. I love you, I love you, I love you.” John’s cheeks flushed fire engine red and he thought about suffocating himself with the bedsheet. That might be easier. “You actually say it or you still just dreaming about it?”

“Maybe.”

“She say it back?” Gale asked with a quirked eyebrow.

“Maybe not.” His friend chuckled. “I’m not rushing her. She shows me how she feels. I don’t need her to say it.”

“Bucky, if you look at Spook like a lovesick puppy one more time-”

“Thanks, DeMarco, you can go back to sleep now.” A smattering of chuckles echoed.

“We don’t mind listening to you practice saying ‘I love you,’ Bucky, but if you start practicing loving her there might be some issues,” yelled Curt from the other end.

“Anyone who knows Bucky knows he needs no practice.”

“No one makes that fucking joke in front of her, understood?” The last thing John needed was Cass hearing he had slept with the entire nation of Greenland or whatever version of events the men were concocting in their head.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, just be sure to invite us to the wedding.”

“Major has it all planned out in his dream world, boys. Don’t you worry,” Buck joked. Unlike the others, he had truly gotten a sense of the two of them. He had a pretty good idea where it was going.

“Hell of a woman, Bucky. We are happy for you. All ribbing aside.” Of course Crosby was the one to get sentimental on him.

“Tell her we say hello at your flower drop in the morning!” A few others chimed in and asked to be included.

“Good night, boys. I love you.” John figured it was better to take the piss than to fight it.

“Name your child after me!”

Three: If There’s One Thing I Am Sure Of, I Am Sure That You Have Always Belonged With Me

In her dreams, everything is as it should be. John is flying but always comes home to her. She travels to the furthest corners of the world and talks to the most intriguing people but she always comes home to him. A home that they have built together and plan to fill with laughter and love. She had cried herself to sleep with tears of frustration too many times to keep track of, the reminder that she had failed echoing constantly.

“John! John!” She heard her own screams and her chest ached at how they must have sounded to John. At her last glimpse of him trying to reach her. Crawling towards her with his last vestiges of consciousness. It would haunt her the rest of her life.

“Captain Egan?” She jolted awake and looked around. She didn’t recognize the stark white walls and the rows of empty beds. “We heard you screaming, ma’am. Is everything alright?” Ah, yes. Hospital.

“When can I leave? I’m feeling much better.”

“You had a miscarriage, Captain. You need to rest a little while longer.” There was that word again. It was all anyone had been whispering about when she woke up hours ago to blood between her legs.

“I didn’t even know I was pregnant! What I need is to be discharged so I can go back to work.” Cass wanted to point out that without John around, without her husband around, it wasn’t worth being upset about. What she needed was to get him out so they could do it all properly. Do it together.

“It was most likely that very attitude that led to this outcome, Captain.” That was a sentiment she could not bear. That her unwavering dedication to bringing John home might have cost them this. Their most sacred wish.

“Please don’t say that, Doc.” Cass was held together by sheer determination. The belief that she could figure it all out on her own. That nothing was impossible because she had her head on her shoulders and her wits about her. “I have a plane waiting for me in the next few hours. The most precious thing in the entire world to me waiting on the other end. I need to go.” Just the other day she had been in Wisconsin. Looking at baby photos of John and asking for his mother’s cake recipe and promising his sisters he really was a chivalrous gentleman. She needed the time between now and her arrival in Germany to pretend nothing had happened. Push this entire thing into a box. John could never know.

Four: The World Was Black And White

She watched the men warm their hands by the fire without blinking. There were only a few scattered around the abandoned brick factory and she had found a spot to sit close enough that she still caught waves of heat. Really, she was more focused on the man whose head was in her lap.

John was sound asleep, her hand smoothing over his hair hypnotically as he breathing evened out and he even cracked out a snore. Cass wasn’t sure when the last time he had slept was. They hadn’t been able to for the past day and a half. Imagined he hadn’t really since he arrived at the camp all those months ago. She was happy to stand guard.

“Cass…Cass, don’t.” She glanced down. His eyes were still closed but the peace was gone from his features. “You can’t be here.”

“John? John, baby, you’re okay. You’re okay, I’m here.”

“Not real. Not real.” Cass bit her lip as her eyes began to water ever so slightly.

“You know, he asked for you in his sleep almost every night.” Gale was watching them. She thinks he looked a little sad. “He spent all day angry and defiant then at night, he just wanted you.”

“Gale-”

“As soon as you get a chance, you take his hand and you run.” Gale had watched John deteriorate before his eyes. Had watched life breathe back into him when he got a letter from her or on the rare occasion she was able to meet him along the fenceline. Those normally held him over just long enough until the Germans did something to piss him off.

“Not without you.” Cass wasn’t going to budge on it. There was no chance John would leave Gale behind. No chance she would either. He was family. “You have a wedding to attend.” He smiled.

“Bucky says you two are greedy. Might have a second one.” She smiled the way she always did when someone brought up her future with John. Made her want to wake him up just to kiss him.

“The first one was perfect. We just want to be able to take our time. Share the moment with the people we love.” Time. The thing they had been chasing this entire war. Cass felt it slipping from her grasp with every step through the German winter. At least, if it all ended, she was with John again.

Five: You Are My Favorite Thought

John was a light sleeper these days. His desire to protect the woman he was wrapped around and the small bump that his palm was placed over leaving him attuned to every creak and groan.

He had been downstairs making some breakfast when he had heard her scream upstairs. John had scaled the staircase in two strides and skidded to a stop in front of their bedroom to find her pensively looking in the mirror.

“Spook, everything good?”

“Better than good. I popped!” His brow furrowed as he padded over to her gently. “Look.” She turned to the side and the sight spread a warmth through his chest. There was most certainly a bump. Yesterday, it hadn’t been there but today it was. A baby.

“Looks like we’re having a baby.” He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around so his hand rested on top of her’s over the bump. He dropped a kiss onto the top of her head. “You happy?” Her initial reaction had been one of excitement but now, watching her in the mirror, her eyes were drifting to a far away place.

“Of course. It’s what we’ve always wanted. What kept me going when…” Sometimes, she still had trouble talking about Europe and all the things they had gone through. “It’s just a little overwhelming.” He twisted his fingers between hers and squeezed gently.

“That’s why you got me. Tell me how much you love my broad shoulders all the time. They can handle whatever you need them to.” But Cass wasn’t sure if they could handle her betrayal.

His gut was telling him something was wrong as she moved in her sleep to rest her head on his chest. That something inside of her was eating her up. That he wanted to fix it but he couldn’t until she told him what it was.

“John?” She was awake, her eyes filled with emotion as she looked up at him. In her heart, she felt like he knew. Like she shouldn’t have to tell him, he should be able to understand without words. But it wasn’t far to him or to their child. The one they had lost or the one they were preparing for.

“You can tell me anything, Cass.” No matter what it was, they would work through. They had seen each other at their lowest and knew who each other was at their core. Nothing could ever change the love he had for her. The love he had for the life they had created.

“I’ve been keeping something from you. Something awful.”

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