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bigassmoonchild · 7 months

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Tears

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: You'd never seen Simon cry. He was the scary Ghost, and Ghosts didn't cry. Maybe he had just grown too comfortable with you, because it didn't take long to be pushed back an arms length.

Content Tags: Fluff, Simon Simping, Angst, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Reader Simping, Crying, Senseless Worry, Fear, Fear of Death, Thoughts of Death (NOT suicidal ideation), Hurt/No Comfort, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost, No Use of Y/N

A/N: I am so sorry about being awol this week, my heart condition and migraines have whooped my ass. I wasn't expecting how this would turn out, but I enjoy it a lot. Mostly internal thoughts, some interactions here and there. Anyways, here's part 15!

Part 1 | Previous, Next | Headcannons, Masterlist

The few days you spent back home, it was slowly getting better. Your father had accepted Simon, your mother was spending a lot of her time doting on you and Simon, but Clint was still gone. Nowhere to be seen, no one had heard from him.

Arthur still stayed quiet, but you remembered him as the gentle boy he once was. He'd always been that way, especially after everything your father had done when he presented. No one talked about it anymore, but your brother still stepped on eggshells around everyone.

Simon had grown to enjoy spending time with the pack pups, reminiscing on his time with Price's own. Even then, he'd never considered that he would have any of his own. It was terrifying. Clair had pulled him away, baring her teeth and threatening a few different deaths if he'd so much as hurt you.

How dead he'd be if she knew.

And that's all he could think about, watching as Clair doted on her own Omega. Watching as she loved and cared for her pups. Seeing her act like an amazing Alpha, one he'd never thought he would be. Him? Someone's Alpha? It scared him, even so long after it had occurred.

His mind was constantly warring with itself, the old him trying to get him to run, dump his savings onto you and disappear into the wilderness. The other part of him, though, saw you as you existed. In the mornings, hair a mess and eyes still tired. After sex, your eyes slightly glazed over and skin heated.

He could see you, puffy eyed as you admitted your fears to him that first night back. He heard the sobs you gave him, oh so many time.

Simon saw the fire in your eyes as you snapped on him.

And he loved you all the more for it. You were his Omega, his precious mate. What he could consider the love of his life. And yet he looked at you, admiring your older sister with a look in your eye that seemed almost... regretful.

It was then that he really thought. Deeply, on all the past conversations. He had seen a similar regret in your face while driving back to the hotel, eyes still puffy from the crying.

Price, speaking with him one night. "How many people would wish to be mated like that?" Price had once asked him. "She is living, breathing and eating with a man she does not know. You can't make this any more difficult than it is," but this had been the first few weeks of your mating.

Were the two of you still strangers? Or acquaintances now? He didn't even know your favorite color, let alone simple facts about you. And now, as he lay next to you, he feared that perhaps everything had gone too quickly.

Even as he felt your fingers grasping at his sleep shirt, feeling the press of your swollen belly against his side. Everything had happened so quickly, and he hadn't been there for the first, what? Six months? He knew, almost inherently, that it was a poor representation of him.

His Alpha groaned, baring it's teeth at the thought that he was a bad Alpha. Even as he stared at the ceiling, eyes cast over, thoughts prickling over everything. The distaste at the back of Simons throat was strange. His eyes burned, and he blinked his eyes clear.

What the hell? Tears?

Simon was able to get your hands untangled from his shirt, shifting out of bed carefully and finding his way to the bathroom. Shutting the door carefully, he flicked on the light and found his reflection staring at him.

The vision blurred, staring through himself rather than at. He couldn't see himself. Not Simon, barely Ghost, but rather the monster he often thought of in the midst of missions. A killer, someone who took lives, not create. He was a monster, claiming you without permission, and he could feel the heat of his tears pouring down his cheek.s

The door opened, and he couldn't think. Barely heard your voice, calling out, wondering why the hell Alpha smelled sour and was crying. Your arms wrapped around him, pressing a gentle kiss against his back.

You could feel the hiccupped breaths he was taking, you could see the distant look in his eyes through the mirror and his scent was horrid. It smelled purely of distress, pain, even hints of anger. Not the scent of Simon.

Grasping his hand, he followed mindlessly as you dragged him back into the main room, gently pushing him onto the bed. Standing between his legs, you ran your fingers through his hair.

"Simon," you whispered, carefully. "Love, what's wrong? Your scent is so strong, but it isn't you. What's wrong? Please, Simon," and you whispers continued. His eyes remained blank, gone. Even as thoroughly exhausted as you were, you could feel fear twinging in your gut.

You'd never seen Simon like this, but you'd seen soldiers coming back from intense battles who looked like this. Not your Simon, not him. No, maybe there'd be days that he would grow quiet and slightly distant, but he never looked like this.

Even as your hands found his cheeks, your lips pressing against his head, you heard nothing from him. You moved, reaching for the phone you'd tucked somewhere before collapsing into bed, and felt his hands grasp for yours.

His fingers entwined with yours, tugging you closer to him once more. Simons arms wrapped around you, his head resting against your chest. You could hear his sobs, muffled by your body, but you could feel his shoulders shaking.

Pressing your lips to the top of his head, you slowly rocked the two of you side to side. You stayed there, listened, held him. His sobs hurt you, nearly scared you. Such a strong man, an amazing Alpha, broken down into tears. And from what?

You thought, and thought, and thought. There was nothing, you realized, that you could think would cause this. You couldn't remember a thing that happened today that would make him break down. Maybe it had been Clint? Your family initially not accepting him, hurting him?

No. He wouldn't even think about that kind of thing. Sure, he'd had a reddened cheek for some time afterwards, but nothing that would cause him to cry this hard.

Your lips pressed against his head once more, squeezing your arms around him tighter. He sniffled, sobs breaking down into just some hiccups. You could feel your shirt wet, from his tears. You could see your silhouette from the light in the bathroom. The darkness wasn't all encompassing, not in the little hotel room you had.

It was like a gentle blanket, hiding the two of you from the rest of the world. You could feel Simon pull his head up, resting his chin against you while looking up. His eyes blinked long and slow, they were reddened and puffy. His skin was slightly blotchy, but pale from the near hyperventilation.

Neither of you spoke, your fingers brushing the stray tears away before cupping his cheeks. Pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, you gave him a little smile.

"What's wrong, Si?" You broke the silence and he shook his head. His eyes had closed, some more tears breaking free. He tried tugging you closer, your belly stopping you from getting as close as the two of you wanted.

It seemed funny to you. The pup, now seemingly forever separating the two of you just a little. More than you'd been prior to it's conception, it had now separated you. The closest you'd ever get to him would be looking in the same direction, just a step ahead of him. The pup would separate the two of you forever, maybe never gaining that distance back.

But you'd do it all for the loving smiles and little touches you got from him. You'd do it all again if it meant you'd stand right where you were, and you would never change your path. You'd take the same steps every single time if it meant you'd be standing where you were.

And you hoped he could feel it in the way you pressed your lips to his head, squeezed him a little tighter. You hoped he could feel it in the way your fingers ran through his hair, the way you'd always be right by his side.

Maybe he would never know. Even as he tugged you into bed, pulling your back to his chest and burying his face into the nape of your neck. Even while his fingers intertwined with yours, cupping the little pup resting just inches from your hands.

You could only hope, as the two of you woke, he understood how much you truly loved him as you helped clean his face up. Dried tears were a bitch, you knew. You could see the pain in the way his eyes shut a little tighter when the sun rose just a little more. You truly could only hope he would understand how much you loved him as you shut the curtains and curled back up into bed with him.

Maybe, just maybe he would realize how much you loved him while watching his interactions with the family pack pups. Seeing him allowing the little girls and boys paint his nails or play fight with him. Seeing how he treated your mother with such respect, allowing your siblings to do as they pleased to him.

And on the plane home, you could feel him squeeze your hand gently. "I truly love you, Simon," you whispered. "I wouldn't give up a single decision I've made," and he rested his head on yours. "If I had to do it all over, I don't think I'd do anything different," and you could feel his cheek shifting against your head.

"I love you, sweet Omega," he whispered in turn. "With all my heart, I truly mean it when I say I would do anything to make you happy," and his lips pressed against your head. You sighed deeply, allowing sleep to take over you.

Simons fingers brushed along your back, gently shaking you awake. You didn't want to go back, you realized. You wanted Simon all to yourself, maybe have a nice little home in the country. Maybe watch your pups just exist out where they wouldn't have to fear anything.

Keeping Simon to yourself, he would never almost die again. You would never lose each other to the trivial ideations of war. You'd never be given subsidies for his death, and you would never have to plan a funeral for the man you loved.

You wouldn't have to worry about anything if you were able to get him to retire. Maybe the two of you could open a shop, or a little clinic. Help people who needed it the most, ensure everyone was taken care of.

And in the car, you finally spoke up. "Will you stay in the military once the pup is born?" You asked, voice growing quiet. His eyes flashed over to you, his brows furrowed under the balaclava.

"What d'you mean?" He asked. "Obviously I'll get leave to be with the two of you, but I can't just leave my job," he spoke, carefully. You hummed, staring through the windshield.

You didn't look at him. "What if you die? The pup will never know you, it'd be safer to-"

"To what? Go work an office job?" He sounded surprised. "Lovie, working in the military gives me the money we'd need to take care of the pup. This is my life, I can't just drop it all of a sudden. Price is able to balance it all, I can't see why I won't," you looked at your hands, playing with your fingers.

"I'm just worried, s'all," you whispered and you could see him shake his head from your peripheral.

"You needn't worry, I've survived this long. I'm not leaving my job, not for..." he trailed off, not finishing his sentence. You could feel your chest tightening, the dream of the nice little home in the country vanishing just as quick as it had come.

He wouldn't give up his job. Not for you, not for a pup. You were dumb for even thinking it. The car was silent the rest of the drive, you had grabbed your bag as soon as he'd parked and walked yourself back onto the compound.

You would have a lot of work to catch up on, and Simon left you to be. You had entered your office, just staring at the sad little desk and papers stacked on it. You truly were stuck in this life, and you slowly grew to realize you didn't want to be just a doctor.

You'd signed up to be a combat medic, not sit safe and sound in the compound. Had you truly given up your dream? Just for an Alpha, and now his pup? Was this what it meant to be an Omega?

There was no one you would tell that you sat at your desk, door locked and quietly sobbing. You were just so tired, and you wanted to be heard. You knew, unconsciously, it was a big ask of him but you'd hoped, genuinely, that he might hear you out and understand.

Taglist: (Please send an ask/DM to be added)

@sae1kie @shinebright2000 @zechie-spams @itsmadamehydra @smiley-roos @enrapturedbythemoon @stargatenovus @cowboydisaster @josieguts @the-queen-of-england183 @littlelovebug98 @cringeycookies @averytiredfanfictionwriter @kariiiel @http-paprika @snorklingfae @lukneetoonz @wise-owl @waves-against-a-cliff @megkviss @ducks118 @404lunar @zoom-zoom77 @hollowmasque @bootabo2000 @ducks118 @bunnyvs @perfectus-in-morte @itsmytimetoodream @the-occasional-artist1125 @teddywebby

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 1 month

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First of all - CONGRATS!!! 🥳

and while I'm here, can I also request S&🪶 please? (i'll leave the rest up to you)

YOU'RE AWESOME! 🖤

Thank you so much, I hope you enjoy what I came up with (incidentally, this also works as a @subeddieweek entry, whoops 😅🖤)

I'm celebrating 1k followers - requests are open!

A matter of control

Rated: E

Words: 990

Tags: Dom!Steve, Sub!Eddie, bondage, blindfolds, overstimulation (or the attempt at it), they're idiots your honor

“Here we go,” Steve murmurs. He lets the ends of the silk rope glide through his fingers, admiring how the black fabric shimmers against the pale skin of Eddie’s wrists. “You still good, baby? Too tight?”

“I … no.” Eddie shakes his head, trying to wiggle his way out of the blindfold - black silk to match the ropes. Steve watches how he bites his lip when he realizes it won't budge, how he darts out his tongue to sooth over the spot, and smiles smugly. “Just … not sure this was my best idea.”

He tugs on the ropes tying his wrists to the headboard. Steve makes a low shushing sound, cupping his face with both hands, and Eddie goes very still.

“Hey, it's okay,” Steve says, voice gentle but firm. “I gotcha. You know that, right?”

Eddie nods, a jerky flutter of movement.

Steve smiles, running the pad of his thumb over a flushed cheekbone. “Say it for me?”

Eddie gulps and shivers under his hands, but he relaxes. “You got me,” he rasps.

“That's right, Eds,” Steve coos, leaning in for a long, filthy kiss. He doesn’t pull away until he feels Eddie go boneless and pliant under him, and when he does, it is to a whine of protest. “Wanna keep going?”

Eddie nods frantically, then remembers he's supposed to use his words. “Fuck, yes. Stevie, please-”

“Okay,” Steve says, silencing him with another kiss. “Okay, baby.”

He kisses and nips his way down Eddie's jaw and neck and chest, making sure to keep it light and teasing - he still has a lot planned. Only when Eddie’s breathing quickens and he starts squirming does he stop and pull away. Eddie whimpers at the loss of contact, straining against the blindfold.

“Stevie? What’re you-”

“Patience,” Steve admonishes, opening the nightstand drawer and pulling out the object he hid there. Then he runs the tip of it along Eddie’s side, one smooth drag from his armpit and over his ribcage, all the way down to his hip. Eddie yelps and almost jolts off the mattress. The headboard creaks.

“Jesus fuck- … Is that a fucking feather?”

“Clever, aren’t you?” Steve praises. He makes the feather paint a wide arch over the dip of Eddie’s hip bone, then drags it back up to his chest. Eddie lets out a snort. A rather loud, rather unsexy one. “Everything okay?”

Eddie gives a weird, nasal kind of squeak. His lips are twitching, and Steve realizes he's desperately trying not to laugh.

“Eddie?” he asks, momentarily stopping his ministrations. “What's wrong?”

“Fuck,” Eddie wheezes, nostrils heaving. “Okay. Okayokayokay, this is not- … So, here's the thing, I'm sorta ticklish.”

Steve chuckles. “Well, good. If you weren't, this wouldn't work.”

The tip of the feather traces the spider tattoo and Eddie lurches.

“You don't understand,” he pleads. “Not just a little ticklish. Not the cute and sexy kind. More like the full-body-spasms-and-laughing-fits kind. I can't control it, man, I'll-”

“Eds,” Steve says gently, putting a hand on his chest to push his squirming body back into the mattress. “Don't you think you’re being a bit dramatic? This is what it's all about, right? Stepping out of your comfort zone?”

Eddie hesitates. Steve knows he's blinking furiously behind the blindfold, even without seeing his eyes.

“I guess …”

“See?” Steve murmurs, dropping into that low rumble that does things to Eddie. “Now … I want you to be nice and still for me. I know you can do it. Long inhales and exhales, follow my voice.”

Eddie does, letting Steve guide him into a pattern of deep, relaxed breaths. When Steve starts tracing the feather over his naked skin again, he whines and twitches, but not as violently as before. Steve keeps it up, covering him in praise and gentle commands while he crawls further down, ghosting the feather over Eddie’s hip bones, his thighs. Eddie's breaths turn into little whimpers and his hands twitch in their bonds, but he holds still, letting Steve’s voice settle over him, sweet and soothing and thick as honey.

Until the feather touches the inside of his knee and Eddie’s leg jerks as if zapped. Steve is faintly aware of a foot connecting with his temple, a firework of pain erupting behind his eyes, and then all goes dark. When he comes back to himself, he's on the ground beside the bed and Eddie’s voice is a high, panicked babble somewhere above him.

“-vie, I'm so sorry, please say something. Oh my God, did I knock you out? Are you unconscious? Please don't be unconscious, I don't want the kids to find us like this, Henderson would never let us-”

“Jesus,” Steve groans into the carpet. His heartbeat is a jackhammer in his skull and his ears are ringing. “You kick like a horse. Why don't you just kill me? Be done with it.”

Eddie laughs, breathy and relieved and just a little cheeky.

“Now who's being a bit dramatic, big boy? And besides, I warned you.”

Steve huffs, finally picking himself off the floor and clambering back onto the bed. Eddie jumps slightly when the mattress dips, but eagerly turns his head in Steve’s direction for another kiss.

“Alright,” Steve grouses. “Message received. No more feathers.”

“Glad we agree,” Eddie hums, arching into the touch of Steve's lips tracing more kisses down his neck and chest. “Now get this thing off me so- what are you doing?”

Steve, who has just started swirling the tip of his tongue around one hard nipple, stops and grins.

“Ah-ah,” he chides, pushing Eddie’s legs apart and crawling further down, breath ghosting over the tip of his flushed cock. Eddie gasps and twitches under his hands, but this time, Steve's hands hold firm. He's not making the same mistake twice. “I said no more feathers. I did not say I was done with you. Now be a good boy and hold still.”

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #1k followers #Hype's 1k follower ficlets #sub eddie munson #sub eddie week

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roxtron · 3 months

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Day 5: Rabbit, Reclaim

AGJGDFJF FINALLY IT'S DAY 5 SO I CAN POST THIS

For some reason everytime i draw him he looks so young because i'm accidentally overcorrecting since i'm used to drawing older characters. So unfortunately he looks way younger than i meant him to lol, whoops.

But wait there's more- AHAHAHA

While I did initially plan this for GGY week I eventually got the idea to use this as an excuse to draw other GGY designs, soo..

(Not sure why tumblr formatted it that way with 1 of them big but it doesn't matter lol)

I've been wanting to do this for a while, I put the tags of each person next to their design but ofc I'm still gonna tag them in the post itself so you can see their art for yourself if you haven't already. But I enjoyed each of these in their own ways so if you don't mind I think I'm gonna type a bit of text next to them..

@chipistrate This was one of the first I drew out of these, the design was pretty fun to draw but sorry if I messed up a few details, it was a bit difficult lol. The mask and goggles are really fun to draw and they make for a cool design, along with all the glowing blue. (and yes, I tried to subtly include the heelies lol)

@lunzi0 This was the first fursuit one I did lol. I adore the little stars in the design, they personalize it so well and make it really unique. I wanna try this design again since I feel like the other ones show my improvement a bit better, but I hope you can appreciate the effort I put in on my first attempt <3

@carouselrabbit This one was really fun to draw, I absolutely love the eye shape/lashes, it stands out and I always love drawing eyes with a bit of eyeliner lol, the daycare theme legwarmers is a cool nod to the balloon boy arcade machine being connected to them, and was just a fun addition in general lol, I like the style of legwarmers what can I say, fnaf changed my fashion sense a bit. also the subtle paraells to freddy's design is a nice way to connect a bit to gregory himself.

@puhpandas I can't remember if I talked about this design last time I drew it but, overall I'm really happy with how this came out, it's such an indicator of improvement since I started drawing this and I'm glad I was able to draw it better than last time lol. All the patchwork and similarities to Vanny's suit work really well, and the rabbit you chose to base it off of was a good fit, the colors make it a bit more difficult to shade for but i like detail lol, hope you like it too :)

@dykevanny I knew I wanted to do this since I started but I wasn't sure if I'd have time, and I'm glad I did! I hope you don't mind I combined aspects from the first design I saw and the second one you replied to my ask with, I liked the big purple sleeves lol. (I just realized after doing all the shading I forgot to include the oil splatter on his jacket, sorry!) It was definitely a bit difficult due to the head shape being so different but.. fluffy. i love drawing fluff. And the glowing swirl on the goggles, the shape of the ears, I love a lot about this design. :D

I have a hard time with writing compliments but I wanted to get some of those thoughts out, some of the things I like about these designs apply to multiple lol. I adore every one of these designs but I find it hard to put into words what I enjoy about them, hope the original creators are happy with these. <3

I also kept the ggys without as much lighting effects on a separate file, I felt like I should add them since they're a bit brighter lol, makes them look different.

Okay now that I've gotten all that- Sorry this post is so long! I didn't think it'd end up taking up so much space lol. Buut.. working on this drawing and thinking about it and potential context behind it gave me an au idea for it, but I'll put it under the cut since I understand most people probably won't care and just wanna see the drawings lol.

Idk if I'm confident enough to write for it but I'll give a bit of a summary.. I'll keep it under the cut for people who aren't interested and just wanna see the art though lol.

After the main events of SB and Ruin, now that the mimic's been set free, Cassie's taken control of by what's left of Vanny, using her as a new host. But with Cassie being the only human left alive down there, after being reawakened, Dr. Rabbit has nowhere left to go but back to his old host.

Vanessa, Freddy, and Gregory hadn't gone back to the Pizzaplex after ruin, but they were trying to figure out a plan to get Cassie back safely. One night after Freddy and Gregory disappear, Vanessa leaves to go find them. As dangerous as the pizzaplex is, it's her best guess for where they might've gone. She doesn't want to think about what could've happened to them, in denial for the worst case scenario. She tries to keep herself calm by telling herself they probably just left to go back for Cassie, maybe they didn't want her stopping them.. but deep down she knows it can't be that simple. She knows something's off, even if she's not ready to admit it.

When returning to the pizzaplex, she brought along her own V.A.N.N.I. mask, though unlike the one Cassie used, it was clear of the mimic's influence. After all, she was going to need some way to travel through potential blocked routes.

By the time she found Gregory, she'd still been wearing the mask, seeing him down the end of a dark hallway. He looked confused, afraid, his mind was a wreck of conflicting emotions. She started rushing towards him, happy to see him okay, until he finally spoke.

"You need to get out of here."

She stepped back, taking off the mask, only to be faced with the worst case scenario.

It was a wreck, covered in stains and tears, but it was still recognizable. He was wearing that old suit again.

As he waved, she could see Freddy's claws peeking out from the doorway, as the two stepped closer towards her.

So, she did what he told her to do, and started running. She could hear a faint voice coming from the mask, and put it back on before finding somewhere she could hide.

It was his voice again, telling her which way to go.

I guess that was the dramatic way to summarize the main idea behind it, lol. Basically Gregory and Dr. Rabbit work the way Sun and Moon work in Ruin, whichever one is in control in the real world, the other is left behind in the AR world. Or at least that's my interpretation of how they worked, considering Sun was always in mask-on scenes and moon was mask-off. I'm not too sure where the plot might go from there, and maybe I'll consider writing for it, I dunno. I've never wrote fanfic before because I get deadly afraid of writing them out of character lol, but maybe?? I have ideas for scenes and premise and stuff but I don't know if I have the confidence to write it.

But anyway! That was just more of a fun side-idea I came up with while working on this, if you read this far thanks, hope you enjoyed :)

here's some silly little lineless doodles as a reward for making it to the end hehe

now that's what I call an art dump

@ggyweek2024

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lakesbian · 3 months

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“Yeah, you’re probably right,” I said. “Even if we were warned, we wouldn’t last long.” I leaned close, close enough to whisper in his ear. “But some of us would last a while, you little creep. Long enough to make sure that your parents … well, use your imagination.” He stepped back, drew back his fist, and swung on me. I dodged the blow. I grabbed his head with one arm and jammed the fork against his ear. I fought a nauseating urge to twist the fork, to make him scream in pain.

What had I just done? In all the time we’d been fighting the Yeerks, I’d never made a threat like that. What was the matter with me? I felt … not exactly ashamed. But I knew I never wanted to talk to Cassie about what I’d just told David. Or Tobias. Or even Marco. And as for Jake, I found myself filled with a terrifying surge of pure, utter hatred for him. I couldn’t begin to explain it. But I swear at that moment I hated Jake far more than I did David. I should have gone back to the cafeteria. I should have told them all what had happened. But Jake already knew, didn’t he? Jake, the smart, determined leader, already knew all about me. And I couldn’t face him. I couldn’t face what he knew about me.

i would like to preface this post with the fact that i was discussing this matter and i was like "where's that quote i've seen about here on ruthlessness that was tagged as taylor hebert? that's how marco works" and then i googled it and

apparently that quote is just straight up literally from marco. whoops. stop being taylor, marco. being taylor is taylor's job. very funny thing to find out though. ohh that quote i was remembering and thinking was applicable to a fictional character was literally from that fictional character. okay. anyway.

the jake/rachel dynamic here is probably objectively more interesting but i'm particularly enamored with the rachel/marco dynamic because it's like. they're not particularly close. they're banter buddies but not friends beyond that. but when it comes down to the bloody shit they're perhaps the most closely aligned on the team in terms of how they think and act, in that rachel is the one whose immediate suggestion is always "what if we kidnap/murder/maim them" and marco isn't cruel but he is, well, ruthless in the manner described by the above quote i didn't realize was from him. it's such a weird little cross-angle of closeness where they're close in a way that doesn't mean they're friends (for a certain definition of friendship, anyway), but does mean something is severely wrong if she can't even go to him with the blood on her hands. it rocks.

the dynamic with jake is also really good. being the type of person that the one whose job it is to understand & direct you all knows should be called on if he needs someone killed in a cold fit of rage, and the resentment that stems from having to recognize this about yourself thru someone else's recognition of the fact

#animorphs lb

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veronicaphoenix · 30 days

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THE UNMAKING OF A WARRIOR — PART VII

Pairing: samurai/ronin!noah x fem. reader | Words: 11.5k

Chapter tags & trigger warnings: tiny bit of sexual content at the beginning, fluff, subtle talks of dom/sub dynamic, mentions of bondage, torture, nightmares, anxiety, mentions of underage sexual experiences, blade to throat, death threats, blood, mentions of supernatural forces, mentions of Noah having killed people before (sorry, he's a samurai, after all), mentions of pregnancy, angst, cliffhanger at the end whoops. so many things, i'm taking this fic very seriously no joke

Author's note: okay everybody, i've done a bunch of research for this fic and I love learning about different cultures and expanding my knowledge about the world, but the entire thing is obviously historically inaccurate (not that this is exactly a historical fic but anyway), also I don't think people wore sweatpants in feudal Japan, but I can't picture Noah not wearing them, so here you go, a samurai wearing sweatpants. 🤭 I haven't done a second review to check for any last typos or mistakes, so I apologize for that.

Additional useful info: - Kami: japanese word for a deity, divinity, or spirit. - Yakuza: individual involved in criminal organizations, thought to have descended from gangs of ronin (masterless samurai) - Rei and Ren are two different people in the story. Rei we like, Ren we definitely do not like.

THE UNMAKING OF A WARRIOR

PART VII

Waking up to Noah’s serene form beside me felt like a blessing.

His peaceful slumber was a sight I’d seen many times in the dark, when he slept by my side and I sacrificed my own hours of rest just to watch him, knowing that with the dawn, he would be gone.

But this time, watching him held a special tranquility. His young features, usually marked by a furrowed brow, were now softened in repose, free from the burdens of worry that plagued him even in sleep.

During the night, his rest had been disturbed, his subconscious grappling with the lingering echoes of the past few days. Despite the idyllic surroundings we found ourselves in, a part of him remained tethered to the fears and uncertainties of our choices. His dreams were plagued with scenarios of what could have happened days ago, before escaping from my father’s estate. At one point, he tossed and turned so fervently in bed that he flung the sheets off his body. A thin layer of sweat covered his forehead, neck, and chest.

Now that morning had unfolded, and sunlight streamed into our modest dwelling, I found myself drawn to Noah’s profile, his beautiful lines illuminated by the gentle glow. Even while sleeping, his features exuded a captivating allure, making him look even more handsome than he already was. His shirt had shifted during the night, when he found himself trapped in a nightmare, and a glimpse of his abdomen was now revealed to me alongside the scars that marred his warrior skin. A pang of sadness washed over me at the reminder of the trials he had endured, being born into a family of Samurai where the path of battle was but an unavoidable destiny.

My eyes shifted from one ugly scar under his left pectoral to the tattoos adorning his skin.

Noah’s fascination with tattoos had always intrigued me, especially considering the strict code of the Samurai that forbade such adornments. Samurai detested tattoos. Yet, Noah had received his first one at the age of eighteen, during a chance encounter with a group of ronin on the outskirts of the estate. I remember him recounting the tale to me with a mix of trepidation and wonder, describing how he had nearly fled at the sight of the masterless samurai. Yet, he found himself drawn to their stories and the reasons why they had decided to break the Bushido code and now lived in the shadows. A ronin had been the one to ink a small dragon onto Noah’s skin, unaware that Noah would become one of them years later. As he showed the tattoo to me and I traced the red and blue lines with my fingertips, I became aware that he would have to keep it hidden. It terrified me to know what my father would do to him if he found out Noah had stained his skin.

This morning, my fingers traced the same path, sliding down gently from the head of the dragon to its ferocious tail. Noah stirred slightly beneath my touch, though he remained slightly lost in his sleep. I shot a wary glance at his face, and as soon as I saw his eyes remained closed, I moved my fingers to his navel and down, towards the line of hair that descended and disappeared under the waistband of his pants.

He whispered my name, a gentle protest.

“Stop that. It tickles,” he mumbled, his voice coarse.

His words only triggered me to continue my tracing, which made him open his eyes and, in an instant, he had flipped me onto my back, his grin infectious as he pinned me beneath him.

The unmistakable hardness of his morning erection didn’t go unnoticed to me as it pressed against my hip.

“Good morning,” I said quietly, but even with my sweet voice I couldn’t hide my intentions. Noah narrowed his gaze on me, his fingers moving a few strands of hair from my face.

“Good morning,” he replied. “Someone had a good night’s sleep, I see.”

As soon as he said that, I subtly arched my hips, seeking out some friction. Noah’s eyes darkened. With one hand on my hip, he kept me pinned to the mattress, but I was feeling feisty enough and I slid a hand down and inside his sweatpants, making my way beneath his underwear and wrapping my fingers around his hard, thick length.

Locked in a silent exchange of desire, Noah’s eyes bore into mine, a vein beginning to pulse on his neck. Just as I was poised to take things further, to pump him once, laughter from outside shattered the moment, snapping us both back to reality.

Noah immediately flipped back to his side of the bed, both slightly breathless and eager for the privacy we had momentarily lost. We turned our attention towards the balcony door, our sanctuary now breached by the intrusion of the outside world.

We had no idea what time it was, but suddenly we were very aware of the noise outside, the chatter of voices, the chirping of birds, the occasional deer call, and the distant clucking of chickens. I was momentarily disoriented.

As the chaos settled around us, a sense of clarity began to emerge.

We were far from home, —or what home had been—. We were nestled in a humble abode offered by a community we had only just discovered. Surrounded by life in all its vibrant forms, if we got lucky enough, Noah and I could dare to hope for a future together in this place. The laughter of children drifting away outside made me wish with all my might that the opportunity came to us and all the dreams I had with Noah became a reality.

Despite the realization that we still didn’t have the privacy we would like, I wanted to embrace this new reality. To wake up to the symphony of birdsong, the joyous laughter of children, and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze—these simple pleasures whispered promises of a life yet to be lived.

After composing ourselves and tending to the necessities of the morning, I ventured out onto the porch, greeted by the sweet fragrance of nearby flowers and the soft caress of the morning breeze. In the distance, I spotted Rika and Milla’s children, their playful antics adding a sweet touch to the warmth of our new community.

Near the door, a package caught my eye, it’s presence a tangible reminder of the kindness that surrounded us. Attached to it was a tag bearing Rika’s name. With a grateful smile, I carried the package inside, closing the wooden doors behind me.

As Noah caught sight of me, a softness settled over his features. I could tell he was still living in the short moment we had shared in bed as we woke up.

I carefully read the note attached to the package in my hands,

“I thought these clothes might be useful for now. I hope they fit you. I used to wear them before I got pregnant with my first child. There are some from my husband that might fit Noah.

Rika.”

Surveying the contents of the package, Noah selected a pair of black trousers and a matching tunic, securing his katana at his waist with a belt of the same color as he finished getting dressed. Meanwhile, I found myself staring in awe at the array of dresses Rika had offered, each one an affirmation of her generosity and kindness.

After much deliberation, I chose a delicate white summer dress adorned with tiny blue flowers, its charm a contrast to the uncertainty of our circumstances. But as I held it in my hands and examined it, a sense of determination flooded me. I wanted this to work, and as silly as it sounded, I considered that, by wearing a cute dress, I could give it a start.

However, as I struggled with the intricate straps at the back of it, a sense of frustration took over me, and I found myself longing for the assistance of the maids back at my father’s estate.

Noah appeared behind me. In a heartbeat, his hands covered mine, his touch gentle yet confident.

“Let me,” he murmured, his voice a soothing melody in the quiet of the room as I dropped my hands.

With practiced ease, he skillfully tightened the straps and tied a knot. I held my breath, acutely aware of the precision in his touch.

His proficiency with ropes, honed through years as a samurai, carried with it a weight of history and pain that lingered beneath the surface.

I had witnessed the anguish that haunted Noah’s eyes on those nights we spent entwined beneath the covers, grappling with demons of his past. The torment of inflicting pain upon innocent prisoners that had been tied up with ropes in impossible ways weighed heavily upon him, a burden he bore with a heavy heart. And in those moments of darkness, I knew that I had to find a way to replace the agony with something else. I might not be able to make it disappear, but I could help him deal with it in a different way, build a new memory related to that bondage he was meant to perform on those people considered traitors.

The first time, many years ago when I asked him to tie me up, his horror at my proposal was obvious, and his refusal resolute and unwavering. He got very upset, and I didn’t insist any further that night. But I refused to be deterred, though, and patiently waited for the opportunity to convey the depth of my intentions and why I believed it could help him.

“I’m not asking you to hurt me,” I whispered. “I’m asking you to show me how much you’re capable of loving; to show me that by being completely at your mercy, I’m safe; that beneath the warrior lies a man of compassion and tenderness; that despite everything, you’re a man of good heart.”

It was a gradual journey, fraught with a lot of uncertainty and hesitation. But as Noah discovered the profound emotional bond that the bindings on my body provided, there was no turning back, and soon I found myself bound and completely subjected to him in bed, feeling every one of his touches more intensely than ever, every kiss he placed on every inch of my body more devoted than the last.

The restraints provided by the bindings seemed to ignite the rest of my senses, making my skin tingle and increasing my ability to feel and understand that Noah was mine and I was his. Never, not once, did I fear him. That confidence toppled the last ounce of insecurity that remained in Noah, and since then, we knew that we wouldn’t be able to live without each other.

With Noah, I found a sanctuary where submission was a choice made freely. It had nothing to do with the control that defined my life and that I hated. With Noah I could be honest, and I could submit without fear. And Noah, despite not being able to escape the expectations of his samurai heritage, despite not being able to rid himself of that part of him that yearned for control and dominance, he embraced it when I was in his arms.

When we were with each other, the dynamic was wonderful, and there was no moment when we felt more united than when I let go, surrendered to his mercy.

As I turned around and thanked him for tying the straps of the dress, I noticed that his eyes had darkened, and I understood that the same thoughts had been crossing his mind as he tied the ribbons.

“Beautiful”, he murmured, but more than a sigh, the way he pronounced the word resembled a growl.

With a sheepish smile, I tiptoed to kiss him, my hands pressed against his hard stomach, and for a moment I damned that a few more moments alone together, in that comfortable bed that had been offered to us, had been stolen.

I’d had Noah inside me a couple of days ago, but still, the ache of missing and wanting him was too potent.

Noah parted his lips to kiss me deeper, but a growl from his stomach interrupted us. A hint of embarrassment colored his cheeks as I laughed.

“I’m hungry,” he said. He traced a strand of hair that fell across my face, his fingers falling to my neck and caressing it in a tantalizing caress. “I could eat you.”

He leaned in to feign a bite at my neck, prompting me to laugh louder. I squirmed under his touch, laughing and letting out little squeals.

It wasn’t as late as we initially thought. When we left the house, traces of dew still lingered on the plants, and some moisture collected on the stone paths.

We walked to the main dining hall, warmly greeting the people who recognized us from the previous day, exchanging good mornings with a wave of the hand or a polite nod. In the dining hall, much like the night before, there weren’t many people, but the same woman who served me dinner the previous night was there, delighted to see me in good spirits and well accompanied. Noah and I had breakfast in silence, occasionally glancing around, absorbing the details of the place and familiarizing ourselves with the community’s routine. The woman serving the food assured us we could eat as much as we wanted, gesturing with her arms to indicate the abundance of fresh fruit baskets, cereals, and other hot delicacies piled up on a long table at the opposite end of the hall.

I was finishing a cup of hot tea when an elderly couple, around eighty, perhaps,, approached us very slowly, delicate smiles on their wrinkled faces. I exchanged a cautious glance with Noah, unsure how to greet them, whether we should stand up, or if we should stop eating. As soon as Noah made a move to rise from the bench, the woman gestured with her hand and shook her head, then gave him a couple of gentle pats on the shoulder. The encounter didn’t go beyond that.

Not long after, when Rika appeared on the porch leading to the dining hall, she informed us that they were the oldest couple in the community, residing at the top of the hill at the back end of the village, just behind the temple we had seen upon our arrival the day before. They were very quiet and reserved people, and being older, their community tasks had already ceased, and now they spent their time strolling around the village, helping just in whatever way they could and warding off evil spirits.

“They are very wise people,” Rika told us. “If you ever need advice or help, you’ll likely find them at the temple. They take care of keeping it clean and orderly, and often perform rituals for the well-being of the community.”

We were leaning on the veranda of the porch when Rei, the man who’d led us into the village the day before, approached. He greeted Noah warmly and apologized to me for not including me in his tour yesterday, to which I replied that it hadn’t mattered and that I appreciated their concern for me and letting me rest.

I hadn’t finished talking when a gentle brush against my thigh through the porch bars drew my attention, and as I turned around, I was met with the sight of a curious deer lingering near the porch. Its innocent gaze and delicate features captivated me instantly, and unable to resist it, I walked off the porch and onto the stone path, approaching the creature with a mixture of fascination and wonder.

As if sensing my presence, the deer remained still, showing a genuine trust toward me that warmed my heart. Noah, Rei, and Rika observed from the porch.

“They’re quite friendly,” Rika said, her voice carrying a sense of tranquility that matched the peaceful surroundings. “The children love playing with them.”

Indeed, as soon as a group of children noticed me petting the deer, they joined in, their laughter filling the air as they frolicked alongside the gentle creature. It was a scene of pure joy and innocence, a stark contrast to the hardships Noah and I had faced in recent days. It was hard to believe two days ago we had been sleeping in an abandoned and ruined cottage in the middle of nowhere, with barely any food nor water.

As the children gathered around, their eyes wide with wonder, I knelt down beside them, the soft breeze carrying the scent of pine and earth.

“Did you know that deer shed their antlers every year?” I began to explain, my voice soft yet animated. “They use them for protection and to attract mates.”

The children listened intently, their fascination evident as they hung onto my every word. I had always been fascinated by animals, my knowledge about them being nurtured by years of education and exploration. Close to my father’s estate there was a deer sanctuary, a haven where Noah and I met each other on numerous occasions, allowing the creatures to bear witness to the blossoming of our love. “Really?” one of the children exclaimed, their curiosity piqued. He must have been four or five. His cheeks were full and his eyes a sweet light brown. “So, does that mean they have new antlers every year?”

I nodded, delighted by their enthusiasm to learn. “That’s right! In the spring, new antlers start to grow, covered in a soft, fuzzy layer called velvet. And as they grow, they become stronger and more durable.”

The children exchanged excited whispers among themselves, their eyes shining.

Rika watched from the porch, her eyes twinkling with pride at the scene unfolding before her.

“You’re wonderful with children,” she noticed.

I glanced up at her, and just uttered a simple “thank you”, not knowing what else to say to that. When my eyes diverted to Noah, I caught his gaze fixed on me with a newfound intensity. It was as if a sudden realization had dawned on him, a silent acknowledgment of the future we might share together.

Before he said anything, Rei interjected, “It’s very hard to keep them still these days. The children, I mean. All they want to do is run around,” he said. “You seem to have a knack for handling them,” he remarked, his tone gentle yet inquisitive, and then, “Noah told me you’re very skilled at archery.”

“A little,” I replied, somewhat confused at the change of topics.

“She’s very good,” Noah corrected, emphasizing his words with a nod of his head, his words flooding my mind with images from the time I showed Noah my skills and he had been shockingly impressed. I had been sixteen at the time, and I had been able to shoot a 25lb light bow straight into my aiming point at a distance of ten yards.

“My father wanted me to train in the art of archery from a young age,” I explained, with a hint of bitterness in my voice. Talking about my father would always put me on edge after the events that had just transpired.

“You could continue your training here, or if you prefer, you could teach the children,” Rei suggested as the deer at my side fed on some grass growing between the stones. “It would be nice to have someone else to instruct them. The current instructor is getting too old for it.”

“Oh. Um—I don’t know,” I was not expecting such proposal less than twenty-four hours since we’d set foot on this place. “I’d have to think about it. I don’t think I’m good enough for that.”

But Noah’s raised eyebrow told me I didn’t have to be so modest.

Rei continued, “I think they would benefit greatly from your experience and guidance.”

“It would be great,” Rika added. “My husband has always wanted our son to learn how to use the bow.”

Rei insisted, his voice soft but filled with conviction, “the children of our community are always eager to learn new skills. I can’t help but think that, if you’re as good as Noah says, your expertise in archery would be a valuable asset to them, honestly.”

His words sparked a flicker of excitement within me, “You really think so?” I asked, apprehensive.

“Absolutely,” he affirmed, his voice steady and sure. “If you have a gift, the children would be lucky to learn from you.”

But alongside the thrill of possibility, a wave of self-doubt came my way, threatening to extinguish the flame of enthusiasm. What if I wasn’t good enough? What if I failed to inspire the children, or worse, disappointed them? I had never really spent that much time around children, much less teaching them something. Archery was a challenge, far from a simple task. It demanded perseverance through frustration, disappointments, and physical exhaustion.

But as I looked up at Noah again, I saw his unwavering faith in me reflected in the depths of his brown eyes. I found the courage to push aside my doubts and embrace the opportunity before me. With a determined nod, I made up my mind to seize the moment and trust in the strength of my own abilities.

The idea was certainly appealing, and teaching archery to the children would not only allow me to share my skills but also contribute to the community in a meaningful way, something totally different from the future that had waited for me at Ren’s estate if I had married him…

“Well, I... think I would like that,” I concluded.

As we continued our conversation, Rei proceeded to explain in detail how the community worked to sustain itself. Each member contributed in their own way, whether it was teaching skills like archery, gardening, tending to the harvest, fishing, construction, preparing food, or other subjects more related to history, mathematics, and literature. It was a system built on mutual support and cooperation, where everyone played a vital role in ensuring the community thrived.

Rika, sensing her duties calling, excused herself with a warm smile, suggesting that Noah and I explore the town market later. “It’s a lovely place and not far from here,” she added before walking away towards the northwest side of the village. “You can buy anything you need there.”

Following Rei’s lead, we made our way to the Samurai training grounds, where he proudly showed us the disciplined regimen of the warriors just as he had showed to Noah the day before. The purpose of teaching combat wasn’t the same as the one imposed to those born into a Samurai lineage like Noah. While Noah and his kin were bound by duty to bow to authority and dedicate their lives to the service of war, the kids and youngsters that engaged in combat training here at this place did it with the aim of cultivating their physical strength, honing mental discipline, and equipping themselves with skills needed for self-defense, should the need arise. It was a practice rooted in self-reliance and empowerment, rather than obligation and allegiance.

Next to the training grounds, the archery training fields awaited.

Arriving there, I was met with a breathtaking panorama of lush greenery stretching out before me, the distant mountains standing sentinel against the azure sky.

A its center, there was a row of sturdy wooden targets, each with rings painted in red. Along the periphery, racks of polished bows stood in neat rows, the curves catching the sunlight, and nearby, quivers waited with arrows arranged next to them.

It was truly a wonderful place, even though my momentary admiration was broken by Rei’s next words.

“Why don’t you show us what you can do?”

I frowned.

“What?” Immediately, I shook my head. “No. No, I don’t—I don’t think I’m dressed appropriately,” I confessed, feeling a pang of self-consciousness as I looked down at my dress.

“I’ve seen you shoot while dressed in much less appropriate attire,” Noah teased gently, his eyes twinkling.

It took him less than a sentence to convince me to do anything.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward, my eyes fixed on the bows. I examined them until I choose one that seemed the most appropriate for my height and the length of my arms. My fingers trembled slightly as they closed around the familiar weight of the bow. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, the world around me fading into insignificance as I prepared myself and focused all my attention on one of the targets ahead.

With a silent prayer on my lips, I drew back the bowstring, feeling the tension build in my muscles with eachsecond. And then, with a swift release, I let the arrow fly, watching with bated breath as it soared through the air with deadly accuracy.

The moment seemed to stretch into eternity, the world holding its breath as the arrow found its mark with a satisfying thud. A rush of exhilaration surged through me, filling every fiber of my being with a sense of triumph and accomplishment.

Turning to face Rei and Noah, I was met with looks of awe and admiration, Noah’s eyes shining with pride as Rei’s watched me with respect. Not even my mother had ever shown so much pride and gratefulness in her daughter.

“Noah was right. You do possess a remarkable talent,” Rei acknowledged. “The children will undoubtedly benefit greatly from the opportunity to learn from you.”

“I would be honored to teach them,” I replied, my voice filled with determination and a new sense of purpose.

As the soft hues of a sunny morning painted shadows around us, Noah and I set out on our journey towards the nearby town, hand in hand, our footsteps light upon the forest path. The air was alive with the symphony of nature, the gentle rustle of leaves and the sweet delicacy of a birdsong.

It was the first time we walked with my hand clutched in his as two people who were free, although a part of me still felt reluctant. I was so used to the ingrained fear that holding Noah’s hand was a crime that even after deciding to go against all the rules of our society, I couldn’t entirely erase the lingering apprehension. I couldn’t shake the feeling that at some point someone would show up, point us out, and make us pay for the “crime” of falling in love.

I was aware that Noah was also grappling with similar anxieties, although he had always been more adept at concealing his fears and worries, of course.

My thoughts were confirmed when, instead of reveling in the liberation of the moment, he diverted our attention to something he had forgotten to mention the night before.

In the backpack my grandmother had given us, at the bottom of it, Noah had found another packet containing a handful of coins and bills. Enough money to get us out of harm’s way for a while longer.

With everything that had happened to us in the last three days, I hadn’t even stopped to think about money. For me, it had never been a problem, but by deciding to run away with Noah, I had also decided to forsake a life of luxury in the castles of the royal families, the fortune that would fall into my hands just for being the daughter of a Shogun, or the inheritance that would be left in my name once my parents were no longer here. Noah and I had nothing. No coins to our name, no possessions but the clothes on our backs. It was a cold reminder of the consequences of our impulsive actions —a samurai and a princess reduced to fugitives, stripped of all the wealth and status that had once defined us.

That just showed how little I cared about money. Still, Noah managed to alleviate some of my unease with the news that at least we had something on our hands, which led me to realize that, in the excitement of setting out to explore the town, I hadn’t thought to take my grandfather’s katana. When I mentioned it to Noah, telling him that I suddenly felt vulnerable and exposed considering we were still being searched for by my father’s army, he made us stop and forced me to look deep into his eyes as he held my face in his calloused hands.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to carry a weapon with you at all times,” he said. “Maybe you should have taken it today, in case you were going out alone, but you’re not. You’re with me. Nothing is going to happen, and I’ll make sure that from now on, you won’t feel the need to be armed whenever you decide to go somewhere.”

That was sweet, the way he implied that he would give me a life of freedom and absent of fear, but they didn’t entirely dispel my anxiety.

“I’ve got mine,” he said as he noted my angst not subsiding, his thumbs caressing the curve of my cheeks. “I’ll keep us safe, don’t worry.”

Attempting to reassure him more than myself, I nodded, forcing a small smile.

As I started to resume our walk, Noah’s hand clasped my wrist, halting me in place. When I looked up at him, I noticed a special glint in his eyes.

“What is it?” I asked.

“I’m aware I told you how beautiful you are mere hours ago,” he began, his voice a quiet whisper in the forest. The way he was looking at me was tender and adoring, the touch of his touch around my wrist a soothing, honeyed sensation. “But there’s something…” he cleared his throat. “I’ve always wanted to tell you how pretty you look in these dresses,” he continued, more confidence in his voice this time. “Whenever I saw you around your father’s gardens, I was… mesmerized. But I couldn’t say anything.” For obvious reasons. “You look pretty. I just wanted you to know.”

I blushed, but despite the embarrassment I was able to stand on my tiptoes and give him a soft kiss, cupping his cheek in one of my hands.

In about twenty minutes, we caught sight of the first houses that comprised the town. Nestled in the center of the picturesque valley, the town was flanked by towering mountains and crisscrossed by a river, likely the same one Noah and I had followed on our journey.

At the entrance to the town, a stone structure welcomed us, shaped by two vertical pillar and two horizontal crossbeams.

Venturing further, excitement flowing through me as I held tightly onto Noah’s hand, we found ourselves amidst a bustling scene. The narrow main street bustled with activity as locals and visitors alike moved briskly, carrying bags of provisions and exchanging lively greetings.

The air was alive with the aromas of freshly baked bread and simmering rice, wafting from tiny eateries just beginning to open their doors. Though being daytime, lanterns overhead cast a warm glow and added illumination to the cobblestone path below our feet.

As we strolled along, I was captivated by the sights and sounds that surrounded us. Quaint tea houses adorned with cherry blossoms stood alongside market stalls offering an array of treasures.

I pulled Noah to a stop when we came across a group of street performers.

Dressed in elegant kimonos and covered in vibrant colors, a pair of dancers performed a kabuki-inspired dance, bringing to life ancient tales of heroism and love while a skilled percussionist put on display a performance of taiko drumming on massive drums. The music filled the street with thunderous rhythms that reverberated through the crowd. We watched, enthralled. By the time they reached the heart of their act, Noah’s arms had slid around my waist from behind, and I swayed a little with my back pressed against his chest, my hands resting on top of his over my stomach.And as the final notes of music faded into the air, we were left with a profound desire to belong to this place.

Even when the crowd started to dissipate, I remained tucked in Noah’s arms, feeling a bittersweet feeling inside of me. I could like it here. I could love it. I was already mesmerized by it all, but the reminder that this what at the cost of my parents put a heaviness in my chest that every once in a while made it difficult to breath.

As always, so perceptive, Noah pressed a kiss to my hair, prompting me to close my eyes and relish the feeling of being there with him, surrounded by people that accepted our love, that allowed us to be.

Thankfully, the crowd surrounding me serves as a reminder to keep me anchored in the present moment. My life didn’t belong to my parents, and life was not meant to be perfect, either. I could have paradise at a certain cost, and I would take it. I would take this which was standing in front of me, around me, right now.

With Noah encouraging us to keep exploring, we stumbled upon a small gathering of locals at a fork in the street, huddled together in animated conversation. They were whispering legends that seemed to dance upon the breeze and that kept children and adults spellbounded by the narratives.

An old man, his face weathered by years of wisdom, was regaling locals and visitors with tales of ancient warriors and mythical beasts, his voice rising and falling like the ebb and flow of a tide. As he spoke, Noah and I listened and exchanged knowing glances. These tales had been our companions in the quiet of bedtime as children and had accompanied us through our teenage years, intertwined with the poetry and literature of our respective educations.

As the day wore on and the rumble of hunger coming from my stomach elicited a playful comment from Noah this time, we sought out the nearest food stall, its colorful banners and fragrant spices alluring us closer. We approached the stall with hunger, our mouths watering at the tantalizing aroma that wafted through the air.

Noah’s eyes danced with excitement as he perused the selection of dishes on display, his adventurous spirit evident as he selected a variety of savory skewers and steaming dumplings.

“What would you like to have?” he asked.

“There’s so much to choose from,” I replied, my eyes darting from one plate to another. “Everything looks delicious.”

Noah engaged the vendor, asking about a few specific delicacies before making our selections.

“Would you like to try these? They’ve just been made and are still warm,” the vendor offered, gesturing to a plate of unfamiliar bites.

“Sure,” I agreed, accepting the bite from Noah’s fingers. His act of feeding me felt intimate and sweet, and elicited a smile I couldn’t shake as I chewed, my gaze locked on his until his laughter broke the spell.

“What?” I asked, my mouth still full.

“You look like a hamster,” he teased, his eyes alight with amusement. When he attempted to pinch my cheeks, I punched him playfully on the shoulder before covering my mouth with my hand.

But as I swallowed and tried to avoid his excited expression, I was overwhelmed by a sense of completeness. I had never seen Noah like this, so carefree, so happy. I wanted him like this forever. I would take the good and the bad, but I didn’t want anyone to take this happiness from him.

I vowed to protect this happiness at all costs.

As the taste settled in, an unexpected sharp sting spread across my tongue.

“Gods, this is so spicy!” I exclaimed, feeling the heat intensify.

The vendor let out a little laugh at my reaction. Noah observed my cheeks tinging red, and without letting his amusement fade, he asked the vendor for a glass of water, which the man quickly offered to me.

After my tongue found some relief and I insisted on avoiding further adventurous bites, Noah and I retreated to a quiet corner to enjoy our meal. Our conversation was light-hearted, focused on the scene unfolding around us and the animate characters populating the market street. We didn’t discuss the situation we were still in for we didn’t want to break the spell of this merry morning.

A while later, hand in hand and with contented stomachs, we continued to wander through the streets, our hearts buoyant and our spirits lifted by the vibrant energy around. We marveled at the myriad of wonders on display. I couldn’t resist stealing a glance at the elegant dresses adorning one of the stalls, which caught the sunlight and seemed to be calling out to me.

Ever so attentive to my desires, Noah noticed my gaze and suggested we take a closer look. I was initially hesitant, for the notion of indulging in something as frivolous as a dress seemed quite selfish from my part. But Noah gently took my hand in his and told me that it was perfectly acceptable to indulge in a little luxury now and then, that I deserved it, and that seeing me happy was all he desired.

Already feeling content simply walking beside him, hand in hand and basking in his love, I relented, allowing myself to be swept away by the beauty of the exquisite garments on display. I explored the racks of dresses with Noah following my steps. Each dress was more enchanting than the last, and Noah offered his candid opinion and commented on which colors seemed to complement me best, which I found quite adorable. Who would have thought that a Samurai could be so dept at navigating the world of fashion?

Lost in the array of fabrics and colors, my moment of indulgence was suddenly interrupted by the unexpected appearance of Kenzo, Rika’s husband. Spotting us from a distance, he called out our names, drawing our attention away from the dresses and back to the street.

With a friendly salute, Kenzo greeted us, mentioning that he had just finished selling some rice to the vendors from the nearby stalls while his brother remained in the fields. Curious about our impressions of the town, he inquired about our experience so far, prompting me to gush with cheerful comments about the warmth of the people and the beauty of the place.

Everything felt so delightful. Such mundane tasks as shopping for food and clothes were luxuries that I had seldom enjoyed during my time at my father’s estate, which made this experience all the more special for me.

“I can’t help but notice that my clothes fit you well,” he pointed out, looking at Noah’s outfit.

“Yeah, thank you. I’ll make sure to get something else today so that we don’t have to keep borrowing clothes,” Noah replied humbly. No hint of embarrassment. I guess he didn’t care, truly.

“Do not worry too much about it. The dress looks good on you, too,” he said to me. “I hadn’t seen Rika wearing that dress since she got pregnant.” At the mention, his eyes showed a glimpse of a fond memory, maybe his wife, round with their child in her tummy. “It’s nice to see that we can still give use to things we don’t need anymore.”

“All the dresses were so pretty,” I said, running my fingers over the delicate fabric of the skirt, admiring its design.

“She’s got another lot from when she was pregnant. We’re not considering having another baby for a while now, but if you do, do not hesitate to ask her. I’m sure she’ll be elated to borrow you some clothes if you like them. Otherwise, there is a shop down the street, on the left, that only sells clothes for pregnant women.”

While his offer was undoubtedly kind, his remarks about pregnancy and babies only served to exacerbate my internal turmoil. The prospect of starting a family with Noah had crossed my mind on occasion, the image of Noah holding our tiny baby in his long arms, tucking him or her against his chest… I had entertained the thought a few times, but it was a topic I wasn’t ready to confront fully yet. It felt daunting considering the tumultuous world we were living in at the moment. Motherhood could wait for a more opportune moment, when our hearts and minds were truly ready.

Just as Kenzo was pointing towards the location of said maternity shop, the three of us realized the air was crackling with tension nearby. A commotion was growing, the voices of angry merchants rising in protest over some disputed deal. Noah exchanged a concerned glance with me, then touched Kenzo’s shoulder.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Noah said.

“Not at all,” Kenzo agreed.

“Mind if we go and see if we can help defuse the situation?” Noah suggested before starting to leave the clothing stall.

“No, sure. Let’s go, see if we can be of any help,” was Kenzo’s answer.

“You stay here,” Noah said to me, extending his arm to grab my hand and give it a gentle squeeze while he smiled a little. “Get a dress you like. I’ll be back in a moment.”

“Okay, just be safe,” I told him.

“I will,” he nodded.

With my heart a little heavy, I released his hand reluctantly and let Noah fade into the crowd, followed by Kenzo. They hurried off towards the source of disturbance, to which I didn’t really pay much attention. I had enough to worry about, and I knew that whatever was going on, would get settled soon, with Noah and Kenzo’s help.

I let myself be dragged on by the energy of the other people around me, also checking clothes and buying food in the nearby stalls.

As I stood amidst the colorful dresses, I tried to push aside the worry gnawing at my insides and immerse myself in the moment. I touched the fabrics, marveled at the craftsmanship and attention poured to the details in the designs. Each garment was a work of art in its own right.

The vendor, a kindly old woman with a warm smile and twinkling eyes, noticed my interest and approached with a gentle curiosity. With a nod of greeting, she began to share stories of the dresses – their origins, the traditions behind their designs, and the meaning woven into every stitch. Her words were like music to my ears, soothing my troubled mind and drawing me deeper into the enchanting world of the shop.

But just as I began to relax into the moment, a strange presence abruptly stopped just behind me, and a chill swept over me, sending shivers down my spine.

Instinctively, I tensed, my senses on high alert.

A body pressed against mine threateningly.

The heat pressing against my back lacked the comforting warmth I felt when Noah was near. My heart raced, and I found myself frozen for a few seconds, staring straight ahead, eyes wide open, my hand still gripping the side of the dress I had contemplated buying.

Around me, people bustled about, occupied with their tasks, chatting with their neighbors and friends as they held shopping bags and carried boxes of produce. As my eyes scanned the crowd panickily, I couldn’t spot Noah. The commotion at the end of the street seemed to have magnified and I couldn’t get a glimpse of his tall frame.

Even amidst the busy street, fear enveloped me.

I had no weapons with me, and Noah didn’t know I was in danger. There was no possible way I could tell him that he was, too.

I was on the verge of screaming when the voice behind me said, “Dare to utter a sound, and I assure you the blade of the knife I’m holding against your side will pierce your skin, deep enough to stain the pretty dress you’re wearing. No one will be able to do anything to stop it, not even Noah. So listen to me: turn around and walk to the alley on the right, and keep going until the end. Don’t stop, and don’t even think about running or screaming for your hapless Ronin to come to your rescue. Understood?”

I didn’t reply, my blood turning cold as my thoughts raced. If I could just be quick enough to grab something sharp from the stall and turn around to attack him first…

The tip of his blade pressed against my side, and a twinge of pain shot through me. I knew the dress was torn, just as I knew there was nothing I could do.

The lovely vendor that had entertained me minutes ago was now engrossed in serving with another customer, her back turned to me. A lump formed in my throat as I swallowed, my breaths coming in ragged gasps.

Behind me, the voice sliced through the air as it uttered my name, a dangerous warning dripping from his tone. His wasn’t a familiar voice, but I knew it well enough to know who it belonged to.

“Understood?” He demanded.

“Understood,” I replied in a low voice, barely audible over the clamor of the shopping street.

“Good. Move.”

I turned around, the figure behind me following the same steps, not letting me see his face just yet.

I turned the corner of the first alley and walked with the tip of the blade pressed to my side, still threatening to slice through my skin. The sounds of the crowd faded away. It wasn’t until we reached a secluded corner, the damp stones beneath our feet and the sun struggling to penetrate the narrow passageway, that the tension seemed to ease if only just a little.

I cautiously took two steps away from the figure behind me, and then, I turned to face him.

“Ren,” I said, my voice steady despite the unease that gnawed at me.

Ren looked just as he had three days ago, when my father had expected Noah to take his own life. Ren wore the same attire, only now it was marred by mud and grime. Fatigue etched lines on his face, and beneath the weariness, simmered an unmistakable anger.

“Look at you,” he sneered. “All dolled up and parading through the streets as if you hadn’t tarnished your family’s name and fled with a man who’s lost his honor.”

I ignored his comment. I focused on maintaining my composure, swallowing down my fear. If I could keep Ren talking, perhaps Noah would find me before any harm befell me.

“How did you find us?” I inquired, my gaze steady.

“Did you truly think I would grant you the same courtesy as your father and allow you a twenty-four-hour head start to run away with that wretch of a man?” His words cut through the air like a blade, each one laced with venomous resentment.

“Don’t talk like that about Noah,” I shot back, my voice trembling now with defiance.

“I do because that’s what he is—if anything. He took you away from your parents, from your duty as the daughter of the Shogun. From me,” he retorted bitterly.

“He didn’t take me away,” much less from you, I wanted to say. “It was my choice,” I countered with a rough edge in my voice that betrayed my growing anxiety. “I left because I was not happy with the future that had been decided for me.”

Ren scoffed. “No one is happy with their future, but we take it nonetheless and fulfill our duties.”

“And you don’t think that maybe things should change? That people should be allowed to choose their fate?”

“This is not a fantasy tale,” he retorted, mentioning my name at the end, and piercing me with his cold gaze. “You had responsibilities in your hands, and you dropped them the moment that pathetic excuse of a man got between your legs. Am I wrong?”

I contained the urge to slap him as my cheeks burned.

“You are wrong,” I said sharply, my chest raising. I wouldn’t let him see my vulnerability. “But entertain me” I continued. “According to me, my responsibilities were that I made sure to choose wisely so that I could secure a future built on happiness, love, and power. Isn’t that what all those tales they tell us as kids say? If you are so sure I did wrong, tell me what my responsibilities were. Tell me how I should have done things.”

I knew. He didn’t have to say. He didn’t have to enumerate them.

I knew them fucking well.

But I needed time. I wasn’t certain what Ren was capable of, but the recent threat he imposed on me had sounded all too genuine, and I had a feeling that he would dare to hurt me if as a result he could take me back to my father, even if it was by force.

“Your family is one of the most powerful ones of the province. You are the only daughter of the Shogun, the only heiress to his position and inheritance. You had to respect the order of things, follow your parents’ steps, and marry me.”

I never really like Ren. It wasn’t merely his current presence that fueled my distaste, but rather his embodiment of the quintessential royal archetype—obedient to tradition, entitled, and expecting the world to kneel at his feed and fulfill him with whatever need he had. Ren’s life had been scripted from birth, with every detail set up prior to his arrival. He’d had nothing to worry about. I supposed he had already assumed that I would be his wife one day, merging our families’ legacies to consolidate power across the peninsula. Yet, all those presumptions shattered when I confronted my father and threatened him with his own sword in front of his army while also forcing Ren to return Noah his katana. I had put him to shame in front of the entire province, veneering him of any privilege and igniting a flame of resentment inside of him that he wouldn’t let go.

I had never found him interesting, either. The times we were forced to meet in my father’s estate or in his, there had never been any connection, not even one that would give way to friendship. It’s also to be considered that by the time I met him for the first time, I was already head over heels in love with Noah. In fact, the first time Ren and I were introduced to each other had been the day after Noah and I had had one of our first sexual experiences. We were still teenagers. We hadn’t slept together, but we had touched each other, our hands exploring those unfamiliar nooks and crannies of the opposite anatomy, attentive to the little noises the other made and the expressions of pleasure that crossed our faces each time we caressed a special place. I had almost died of embarrassment when Ren greeted me, looking at me with that expression that said, “I’ll be the first”, having no idea that he no longer had anything to do. I was still a virgin, but Noah had already touched me, and I wouldn’t let any man other than Noah get his hands on me. Noah would be the first, and the last.

And I was going to keep it that way.

I felt sorry for Ren, truly, but this was a battle he couldn’t hope to win. I’d sooner face death than live without Noah. It was a truth I’d held steadfast in my mind and heart for as long as I could remember. I would be with Noah, or I just wouldn’t be. I would marry him, or no one else. I would give birth to children that bore the same eye-shape as his and his smile, or I wouldn’t have any.

“We would have never been happy together,” I said, keeping it simple and practical. I didn’t hold much hope for Ren to understand. Perhaps he believed that happiness was a collective responsibility, one that could be achieved with work and effort, one that could be built the same way you build a house. Or maybe he simply believed that women were not worthy of finding happiness the way I did, by crossing paths with a soldier in her father’s gardens when we were just kids. Of course Ren would have been happy with me, or at least pleased in a way. But I would definitely not have been. Would he have cared? I would never know.

“Happiness can be attained if you work for it,” was his reply, affirming my suspicions. His ideas aligned with the conventional wisdom: first, you get married, then you toil tirelessly in pursuit of happiness, with no guarantee of success.

“I don’t believe that’s how happiness is supposed to work,” I replied firmly. “I found happiness without searching for it, I seized it and held on tight,” I told him, referring to Noah. I didn’t have to specify because he already knew.

“You cannot be referring to that miserable ronin. Do you truly think someone like him is capable of providing happiness?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” I maintained my composure, refusing to be rattled by Ren’s palpable disdain for Noah. “Just because he was born and raised as a Samurai, meant to serve a master, does not mean he lacks the capacity to feel or to please others as he served my father for years, earning his trust as his finest swordsman. You have a misguided perception, Ren, and you’re making a mistake by being here. Noah will notice my absence. He will find us, and I don’t want to witness what he will do to you when he does.”

His eyes widened as the weight of my warning sank in.

“No,” he retorted, brandishing the dagger and closing the distance between us. His katana was secured at his waist, and I could see his other hand hovering close in case he needed it. “You have made a terrible mistake. You’ve forsaken your life as the Shogun’s daughter for someone who is way below your status. Your future was already written, and you decided to burn down the vellum. What does he have to offer you? He had nothing, and now he isnothing. He’s abandoned the Bushido Code. He’s a ronin now, and he might end up joining the Yakuza. If he betrayed the kingdom, he could betray you.”

“He won’t,” I said as a matter of fact. “Noah did not choose me for what I had or for my status. He chose me for the things I decided to give him myself—my heart. That’s the only thing I have to offer to him now. I am no longer a princess. I have no wealth in my hands. I only have uncertainty about my future. And yet, Noah still wants me. I know this is difficult for you to accept, Ren, and it was never truly my intention to hurt you, but I’ve been in love with Noah since I was a little girl. He was my first love, and he will be my last.”

Rage was pouring from him now. It was evident on his eyes, in his expression, in the taut muscles of his body and the veins pulsating in his neck and forehead. His black hair was in disarray from the days he must have endured away from his family’s estate, too.

In one single step, he bridged the gap that separated us. His hand tangled in my hair, wrenching my head back sharply, eliciting a gasp from me as the blade’s edge pressed against my neck, stinging.

“Do not speak another word. Whatever he’s done to you, whatever lies he’s spun to persuade you, you are wrong, and someone needs to bring you back down to earth, princess.”

“Ren…” I began to plead, but he cut me off forcefully.

“No! He’s doomed but you still have a chance. Return with me to the Shogun’s castle. Marry me, bear my children, and give an heir to secure the future of your father’s dynasty.”

The realization of his intentions suddenly terrified me. I had always known, deep down, that this was the expectation placed upon royal women. It was the destiny that had been laid out for me. The same one it would be laid out for my daughter. But hearing it articulated so callously, reducing me to a mere vessel for producing heirs, filled me with dread, chilling me to the bone.

“Ren, you’re hurting me,” I managed to say. Both physically and emotionally. Fear coursed through me. If Noah didn’t find me soon, I would start screaming, consequences be damned.

“And you think you didn’t hurt me? Or your parents? You think you’re the only one entitled to your pain?” His grip tightened. “You might have run away with that disgraceful man, but you still have a princess complex inside of you. You’re greedy and selfish, and if that bastard hasn’t realized it yet, he will soon.”

“I hope so, because she fucking deserves to be selfish.”

Noah’s voice cut through the tension like a lifeline, an antidote to cure the poison in my body.

And then, everything happened in a blur.

Ren was forcefully yanked away from me, the blade grazing my skin as Noah’s strength pulled him back with such intensity that he stumbled, gasping for air. Noah’s grip on Ren’s tunic tightened around his neck, momentarily choking him.

Ren had clearly underestimated Noah. He had foolishly believed that Noah wouldn’t notice I was gone, that he wouldn’t panic the moment he couldn’t find me among the stalls, wouldn’t suspect that something had gone wrong.

But Noah wasn’t a fucking prince with a misguided sense of superiority. He was a Samurai—resourceful, cunning, and relentless. He would stop at nothing to find me, no matter where I was.

Ren was just wrong about Noah in every possible way.

And now he was going to pay for it.

In a second, Noah had unsheathed his katana, the gleaming blade immediately touching Ren’s throat. Reflexively, Ren extended his own sword towards Noah, the dagger now discarded on the ground.

“Drop it,” Noah commanded, not an ounce concerned about having another sword pointed at him, “before I slit your throat and drag you to the forest so that the wolves can feast on you.”

“I’m not afraid of you, ronin,” Ren retorted, but the fear in his eyes betrayed his bravado. I could see it just the same as Noah.

This was not even a battle, and yet, Ren had already lost.

“You will be when I start cutting every finger that has touched her. I won’t repeat myself. Drop your fucking weapon.”

It took only seconds. My hands had stopped trembling the moment Noah appeared. Now, it was Ren’s hands that shook as he released his katana, his shoulders sagging in resignation as the sound of the blade meeting the ground reverberated in the air. I watched as he struggled to maintain his composure, suppressing the indignation of once again having to bow to a Samurai’s—or rather, a ronin’s— will.

“If she’s harmed in any physical way, you will pay with your own flesh. If she’s not, you will pay either way.”

After his threat, there was a heavy pause. None of us said anything until Noah, never once averting his gaze from Ren, called my name.

“Are you hurt?”

Perhaps Ren didn’t catch it, or perhaps he lacked the ability to decipher the nuances in Noah’s voice as I did. But I heard it—the subtle tremor, the fear.

Noah was scared.

Bringing my fingers to my neck, I located the spot where Ren’s blade had pressed, and my breath caught when I felt the dampness coating my fingertips. Looking down, I found them stained with blood. Not much, but enough to awaken the beast within Noah.

“I’m bleeding.”

In an instant, Noah’s movements blurred with precision and controlled fury. The punishing blow to Ren’s liver landed with the force of a sledgehammer, delivered by the heel of Noah’s boot. With resolve, Noah maintained his grip on his katana, his muscles coiled with a lethal combination of strength and determination.

The impact reverberated through Ren’s body like a thunderclap, sending shockwaves of agony coursing through every fiber of his being. Gasping for breath, he crumpled to the ground as pain engulfed him in its merciless embrace.

Through the haze of agony, Ren could barely make out Noah’s figure looming over him, his eyes ablaze with a fierce intensity. In that moment, Ren realized the extent of Noah’s determination to protect me.

I had warned him, but he didn’t listen.

With trembling hands, Ren reached out in a feeble attempt to plead for mercy, but his words dissolved into a choked gasp as Noah’s steely gaze bore down on him. There would be no forgiveness.

In the aftermath of the brutal blow, a heavy silence descended upon the scene, broken only by the ragged sound of Ren’s labored breathing and the distant echo of Noah’s heartbeat and mine. And as Ren lay sprawled on the ground, his body wracked with pain, he knew that he had awoken the wrath of a man whose love knew no bounds, and whose fury was as unyielding as the steel of his blade.

“I won’t give you the chance to touch her again, but if you even conceive the idea of doing so, I will make sure you don’t recover from this pain,” Noah declared. He knelt down briefly, bringing himself to eye level with Ren, whose face was red and contorted with agony, hands clutching his own body. “I was once a Samurai. I killed men in battle. But I am a ronin now. I will not hesitate to kill anything, or anyone, that is a threat to her. May this serve you as a reminder that I follow no code anymore.”

Though Noah’s words should have chilled me, they didn’t.

As Ren lay writhing on the ground, noah slowly turned to me, his features softening instantly.

I extended a hand to him, the one free of bloodstains.

The fear I saw in his eyes disarmed me.

His fingers gently lifted my chin to examine the cut on my neck. It wasn’t deep, but it would leave a scar.

Before I could reassure Noah, he slid one arm around my shoulder and pulled me into his embrace, enveloping me in a cocoon of safety. I wrapped my arms around his torso, pressing my face against his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat beneath his skin.

We turned to face Ren.

“This isn’t over,” Ren managed to say, one hand on the floor now, the other one still on his stomach.

“It is for you,” Noah replied firmly.

Ren’s gaze shifted to me, ignoring him.

“Your father is not far. When he finds you, he will show no mercy to him. Or to you.”

I swallowed, but I kept my chin held high.

“Leave, Ren,” I asserted. “There is nothing for you here. I chose Noah. I will marry him. I will bear his children. I’m here today because I have chosen my future. Me. No one did it for me. There’s nothing here for you to fight for.”

Ren spat on the ground; the action tinted with blood. Noah stood his ground. Eventually, Ren managed to retrieve his katana and rise. I doubted he would be able to bend down again to retrieve the dagger, but I didn’t care.

“You don’t deserve her,” Ren sneered at Noah.

“I’m aware,” Noah admitted, “but I’ll spend the rest of my days trying my damnest hard to make myself worthy of her.”

Those were our final words to Ren.

That would be the last time we ever saw Ren. I didn’t know at that time, and didn’t even conceive the thought because a part of me was actually terrified of what could happen in the upcoming days, in the upcoming hours —but we would never cross paths again.

Back in the bustling street, tucked against Noah’s side and still reeling from the shock, we searched for Kenzo, Noah calling out to him without drawing undue attention from the locals.

When Kenzo arrived and saw the blood staining my neck, he was poised to rally the community’s trained warriors, but I stopped him. Noah told him what happened and urged him to get someone who could tend to my wound.

Kenzo led us to a nearby house, just a stone’s throw away. Noah never once released his grip on me.

Ascending wooden stairs to the first floor of the modest house, after a couple of polite knocks, the door creaked open, revealing a diminutive, kindly-faced old woman. Upon Kenzo’s introduction and a plea for assistance, she ushered us inside.

She asked no questions, directing me to recline on a bed in what appeared to be a makeshift nurse’s room. Instructing me to tilt my neck for examination, she diligently tended to my wound, cleansing and dressing it with practiced care.

Noah stood never too far, a silent sentinel with arms crossed tightly over his chest, his expression taut with worry. Kenzo attempted to engage him in conversation, but Noah remained reticent, his attention fixated on the street below as he stood by the window, peering out through parted curtains.

In that moment, it was as though the samurai had taken the place of my lover, and I didn’t know when I was going to get him back.

“Should we consider returning to the community as soon as possible?” Kenzo asked, casting a concerned glance in my direction, a consideration he had after noting Noah’s suddenly silent demeanor.

“Yes,” I said softly, aching to reach out to Noah but held back by the old woman’s ministrations as she applied a strange liquid-soaked cotton pad to my neck. “If my father is nearby, they should be informed. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to your com—.”

“I’ll take care of him”, Noah interjected suddenly, his tone conveying a sense of determination that unsettled me.

However, it was Kenzo who responded to Noah’s declaration.

“No,” he said. “Firstly, this community is not just ours, it’s yours now, too. Our sanctuary transcends royalty and government jurisdiction. There’s a higher power at play here, one that protects us. Besides, we’re well-equipped to handle such situations. Many of us come from similar backgrounds. We’re accustomed to defending our own, and you two are now part of our community.”

Noah was not expecting that, and neither was I.

“You will be all right,” the old lady assured me, redirecting my focus away from the conversation. Her gentle pat on my shoulder offered solace. I was about to reach for my neck, but she shook her head, advising against it. “It will heal just fine but avoid touching it. Keep it clean throughout the day, and it will soon fade away”.

A soft “thank you” escaped my lips, overwhelmed by the kindness and care we were receiving. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes as I sat up on the bed, seeking out Noah’s attention with a silent plea.

Finally, he noticed my distress and approached me. His arm enveloped my shoulders once more, while his other hand gently cradled the back of my head. As I wrapped my arms around him, he pressed me to his chest, planting a tender kiss on my hair as I struggled to contain my tears.

We journeyed back to the sanctuary on horseback, a magnificent creature provided by a local resident keen on making our trip back quicker. Kenzo rode at the front on his own horse. I rode together with Noah, seated in front of him, feeling the tension emanating from his body envelop me. I could sense his restraint in his muscles, on his chest pressed against my back. I could see it at the way his grip tightened on the horse leash, his knuckles whitening.

Upon crossing the southwest gate, Noah dismounted first, reaching out to lift me down from the horse. As my feet touched the ground, a fleeting sense of relief washed over me, grateful to be within the safety of the community once more.

However, my respite was short-lived.

After we secured the horses and made our way toward the main square, an eerie silence hung in the air, contrasting the usual bustle of activity we had found the day before. There were no deer grazing nearby, no children’s laughter echoing through the streets.

I noticed Rei, Maura, and two others approaching us, their expressions somber, katanas sheathed at their waists.

“The Shogun is here,” Maura announced.

The moment the news reached me, I spotted my father approaching us, coming down from the main stone path, his battle armor on, weapons ready, surrounded by an army of at least eight Samurai, flanking him from each side. His stride was determined, and the look on his eyes fierce.

My heart clenched.

No. I won’t let him get near Noah again.

I seized hold of Noah’s katana, drawing it from its sheath, ready to fight my father one more time.

The last time.

Author's note: I just want to say thank you to each of you that has shown love in any way for this fic. I started it as a oneshot from a random idea i got after seeing a picture of Noah with a katana, and here we are now. I have spent hours writing these chapters and doing research and trying to make my writing as good as it can get, considering the historical aspect of this fic. It means a lot to me to know that you're following Noah's and his princess' journey. I can't wait to share with you the next part very soon and then, the epilogue.

All my love <3

#the unmaking of a warrior #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian x ofc #noah sebastian x you #bad omens #bad omens cult #bad omens fanfic #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fic #thank you all for giving this fic so much love #it means a lot #samurai!noah

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xxsycamore · 5 months

Text

New Year, New Napo

╰┈➤ 🌟 Napoleon's New Year's morning begins with him working on his bad habits.

Napoleon Bonaparte/Main Character • rating: G • tags: Fluff; Morning Kisses • wordcount: 720 • masterlist

a/n: And this is the last fic of the year! Thank you for your support in 2023, it was a great year and I got to write so many things I loved🥺❤ This fic is inspired by this amazing drawing that @bicayaya made for me! I'm still screaming...

It's the shifting of the body next to her that pulls MC out of the depths of her slumber first. Dancing around the surface between reality and dream, she chases after the gradually drifting away words of someone in her sleep, nose scrunching as she tries to remain asleep. A chuckle that comes from somewhere far away from the dreamworld suddenly floats to her ears more clearly, closer by - and then comes the ultimate reveille. A pair of plush lips casting a butterfly caress against her own, covering them fully for a mere second before disappearing with only the faint warmth remaining behind.

"Nnng…mm.." MC groans as if to announce to her kisser that she's now awake and he needn't repeat his ministrations. Though she'd be lying if she said she didn't consider playing asleep for a second longer, even with that confused, still-sleeping brain of hers.

Heavy eyelids open to take in the new day - that's right, a new day of a brand new year, she now remembers, the last remains of pleasant tiredness linked with the lavish partying of last night still sparkling in her muscles as she lazily stretches out in bed.

"Good morning, Napoleon."

"Good morning, mon amour."

MC giggles at the haplessly inlove look in Napoleon's cyan eyes. Is he going to enter the new year being like that, once again? She can't blame him, the same way she can't blame sleep for giving her an equally dreamy look in her own eyes right now.

"How come you woke up earlier than me, hmm?" She pokes his cheek, using the proximity of him leaning over her, glad that he's blocking the blinding sunshine that found them in their bed. It's great that they're having a sunny New Year's morning. She can jump right out of bed and embrace the energy of this new beginning. After a good cuddle session, that's it.

"What can I say. New year, new me."

"Pfff!"

Napoleon frowns in reaction to her dismissive laughter, propping himself up on an elbow with pettiness in his demeanor. "So much for my partner supporting me in my New Year's resolutions, I see."

"I do, I do!" MC hastily assures, patting his arm. "I was just wondering, if you truly woke up on your own, how come you still sleep-kissed me…?"

"That wasn’t a sleep kiss, Nunuche."

Huh? Eyeing him with suspicion, MC tilts her head, ready to hear his explanation.

"We had to kiss because we were under the mistletoe."

"?!"

His other hand that was rested above MC's head ever since earlier when he was leaning above her suddenly comes into view, holding up a mistletoe for her to see.

"What the-"

"Whoops, I guess we're under it once again. Here I go, close your eyes."

"Napoleon-"

Not able to keep up with his sudden burst of nonsense, the best MC can do is close her eyes as told, accepting the inevitable kiss of the man above her. This one is slower and somehow more mischievous, with him nibbling on her lower lip and withdrawing before she can take her revenge.

As soon as their gazes meet, Napoleon holds up the mistletoe again, and dives down for another kiss.

"Napoleon!!" Her protests leave him searching for new targets for his kisses, smooching her cheeks, the tip of her nose, her eyelids squeezed shut in a laughing fit, her forehead.

"What's up with you?"

"I told you, Nunuche. New year, new me. I'm not going to sleep in anymore, and that means no more sleepy kiss attacks."

MC looks at him in disbelief. This is still too much to take in first thing in the morning. Still, she somehow connects the dots.

"So you used the mistletoe as an excuse to keep on with your bad habits…"

"I don't know what you're talking about. It was hanging right there above us when I woke up in your embrace."

"Hahahah…hahaha! Yeah, you totally are as silly as you were last year."

"Hey…" Napoleon's brow furrows once again, announcing that he's had enough of not being taken seriously. He captures MC's wrists on both sides above her head, playfully wrestling with her as she keeps laughing at him and squirming in his grip.

"Happy New Year, Napoleon. Please never change."

"You'll regret wishing for that."

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @judejazza Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp napoleon #ikemen vampire napoleon #ikevamp fluff #ikevamp fanfic #ikemen napoleon #ikemen fluff

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joanquill · 4 months

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"Do you believe in ghosts?"

I Hope it's okay if i make Another request. So 25, fluff and Comedy Horror? the character is Henry antrim ( Billy the kid) and it was befor he Met william and sherly So my idea was that he and, YN his Girlfriend have a Mission and have to go w horses bc they can't go there w a train anyways, they started talking abt Stuff like ghosts and he thought it would be Funny to stacre her a little but when they had to Stop some scary Stuff happend but it all go well. I Hope this doesent Sound strange or somethink and sorry if it's a Bit much.

Billy the Kid

A/N: This is set before Billy meets William and Sherlock. Tag/s: Established Relationship

"Psst... (N/N)..." Billy whispered as you kept your eyes shut, turning away from him.

The horses neighed behind you as you kept still on the ground, your head resting on a pillow as the crickets sang you a lullaby in the forest.

"Are you asleep already?"

"...Yes..."

"Good! Because I have a story that will wake you up," Billy smiled as he pulled you up by your wrists, making you groan in protest.

"Billy, we need to sleep..."

"The sunset was just minutes ago! It's way too early for us to sleep,"

"Then let me rephrase, I want to sleep... We barely got any from our last job," you argued, making him pout.

"Okay..." he replied in a sing-song voice as he laid back down, making you sigh.

"...What's your story...?" you hesitantly asked, making him beam and sit up straight.

"Do you believe in ghosts?"

'That idiot..!' you cursed as you hid under your makeshift blanket, Billy's ghost story keeping you up as you watched the surrounding greenery intensely.

"They say around these parts there's a ghost lurking around... stealing wandering travelers left and right until there's no trace left of them. Not even their possessions, as if they vanished into thin air."

'I'm going to kill him first thing in the morning...!' you sighed as you came out of your hiding spot.

"Hey, Billy!" you angrily called out, "Don't you think you went too-" you looked over to Billy's spot and saw it was empty, making you freeze.

"Billy?" you called out, grabbing your weapon as you looked around.

'I didn't sense or hear anybody...' you thought, slowly walking up to the horses.

'Where the hell did he go? Don't tell me...' you shuddered, remembering Billy's ghost story.

'Don't tell me he got-' "-Oh, you're awake!"

You jumped at the voice as you quickly attacked in the voice's direction.

"Easy there!" the voice chuckled as a hand grabbed your wrist, making you stop and see that it was only Billy.

"Billy!" you called out in exasperation and relief.

"Where were you!?"

"I was just getting more firewood," he lifted the dry branches in his arms, throwing them to the campfire.

"Why? Did you miss me already?" he teased, catching you by surprise.

"No," you quickly denied, embarrassed to even think a ghost would take him.

"Is that so?" he egged on with a mischievous smile on his face, making you look away from him.

"If you're scared, we can just sleep next to each other,"

"Who said I was scared!?"

Morning came peacefully as Billy slowly got up, stretching his body.

"(N/N)... What should we do for breakfast...?" he yawned as he reached out to you, but he felt nothing.

"(N/N)?" he called out again as he turned to you, seeing an empty space.

"Haha, very funny..." he dryly laughed as he looked around.

"All right! You got me... Where are you?" he cupped his hands around his mouth as he looked around your spot.

Looking around, he caught numerous footsteps and horseshoe marks on the ground.

'...Whoops...'

"I guess that ghost story was just these bandits, huh?" Billy smiled as you hugged his torso tightly.

Your kidnappers groaned in pain as they lay on the back of your horse, following you and Billy.

"I blame you..."

"Yes, yes... Sorry," Billy apologized in a wishy-washy voice as he kept his eyes on the road.

"...But thank you... for rescuing me," you muttered, making him smile.

"We still have time before we reach the next town, you know?" he commented, making you perk up your head.

"You can just relax back there and sleep, I'll handle the rest."

#yuukoku no moriarty x reader #moriarty the patriot x reader #halloween #billy the kid x reader #ynm billy the kid #billy the kid #jq halloween event

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yelenasdiary · 2 years

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The Third Widow || Red Room

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff X Fem! Belova! Reader.

Summary: Y/n Belova is the younger biological sister of Yelena Belova and the adoptive sister of Natasha Romanoff. Saved from Red Room by Melina & Alexei she now must adjust to a new normal. Going to school, recovering, and finding love in the eyes of another troubled teen, Wanda Maximoff. All while General Dreykov has his eyes set on claiming back what he calls his most powerful ‘widow’.

Notes: Flashbacks are bold, italic and start with ‘~’ | Written in second person. |

Translations: Мэри (Mary)

AC: 8-year time jump, I’m sorry!!! But it helps make the story add up with the black widow movie timeline x I’ve made a couple of changes in the BW script, whoops

The Third Widow Masterlist

"Where did you think I was all this time?" Yelena now, 26 years old asked Natasha.

"I thought that you got out and were living a normal life"

"And you just never made contact again?"

"Honestly, I thought you didn't wanna see me."

Yelena scoffed, "Bullshit. You just didn't want your baby sister to tag along, whilst you saved the world with the cool kids" she says. Natasha dried her hands on the given towel at the gas station before walking by her, "you weren't really my sister" she mumbles. "And the Avengers aren't really your family" Yelena turned to follow the red head.

"They're more of a family than Melina and Alexie" Natasha gives the cashier money for the supplies on the counter leaving Yelena behind in silence.

Later the two sat at a table while Natasha stitched up Yelena's wound, "did you ever see her?" She asked the blonde. Yelena shook her head, "not physically, but I heard about her" Yelena looked away as Natasha wrapped the bandage around her arm, "He hides her" she added.

"From you maybe, I can't believe you went back there…the last I heard was Red Room had moved location again and a few widows escaped…I thought you were one of them"

"And leave Y/n there?" Yelena frowned as Natasha took the seat across from her, "you might not feel like we're family but she's mine…that's why I need your help"

"My help?" Natasha tilted her head slightly.

"That gas, the counteragent, it was synthesized in secret by an older widow from Melina's generation. I was on the mission to retrieve it, and she exposed me, and I killed the widow that freed me" Yelena explained with a saddened look.

"Did you have a choice?"

"What you experienced was psychological conditioning. I'm talking about chemically altering brain functions. They're two completely different things. You're fully conscious, but you don't know which part is you. I'm still not sure…I'm not even sure how bad things are for Y/n. He keeps her close to him, away from the rest of us" Yelena sipped her drink.

"Is that all there is left?" Natasha asked with an almost sigh.

"Mmm-hmm. It's the only thing that can stop Dreykov and his network of widows"

Natasha reached for her drink, "Can you be sure she's still with him?" She asked.

"He took her from me twice now. I've tried to keep track of things, but he hasn't been sending her on bigger missions like he did. He's trained her differently than us, maybe one in 20 survives the training, becomes a widow. The rest, he kills. To him, we are just things. Weapons with no face that he can just throw away. Because there is always more. And no one's even looking for him"

"We tried, Yelena. When you took off and didn't tell us, we knew where you were going. We looked for you, we looked for Red Room and we found nothing. We don't even know how you ended up back there"

"I..I don't even remember…I forgot why I was even there in the first place until I was freed again" Yelena's eyes dropped to the table between them leaving them both in silence that neither wanted. "Where you gonna go?" Natasha asked breaking the silence.

"I don't know. I don't really have anywhere to go back to, so I guess anywhere" Yelena read the label on the bottle of her drink, unsure how where she'd truly go after this.

"Don't"

"Don't what?" Yelena questioned as she looked back up at Natasha. She chucked at Natasha's sly smirk, "You're going to give me some big hero speech, I can feel it" she adds. "Speeches aren't really my thing" Natasha smiled softly, "Huh?" Yelena replied with a confused look.

"It was more like an invitation" Nat explains. "To go to the Red Room and kill Dreykov?"

"Yeah"

"Even though the Red Room is impossible to find and Dreykov is too slippery to kill?"

"Yeah"

"That sounds like a shitload of work" Yelena slightly cocked a brow. "Yup" Natasha sighs, "Could be fun, though" she adds with a soft smile.

Meanwhile, Wanda who is now 25 going on 26, has found comfort in being a part of the Avengers and being cozy with Vision, though not a day as gone by where she doesn't think of you and remember the innocent smile on your face and the first time, she kissed you. She still smokes and chuckles almost every time to herself at the memory of you telling her how terrible her trait is.

When she was first asked to join the Avengers, she looked at Natasha who could barely look at her and acted as if she didn't know who Wanda was, the guilt in Nat's eyes made Wanda join the Avengers. She wasn't surprised to know the Avengers were most of her teachers from school, "that was the worse cover up" she chuckled to Tony when she first joined, "What was that all for huh? So, you could pick us out like candy?" she mumbled.

She hated how Natasha never spoke about you or even mentioned you to her, even when she tried to ask about you and Yelena, she would brush it off and ignore her. So Wanda did her own thing, her own searching. She came across a book she'd been told before was dangerous, but she didn't seem to care too much and thought about what you'd say if you caught her going against the rules like she did.

Vision was a good distraction for her, in many ways he reminded her of you and how you were learning to adjust to the new world. It broke her to look at him and not see you, every time she looked at him, she wished so much that it was you and she knew that wasn't far on Vision, but he'd never know… she never told him about you. Vision was able to help her see somewhat of a future together and sometimes she wondered what she'd do if you walked through the door, would she leave him for you? Even if nothing romantic were to happen but just so you knew that you had all her attention, or would she stay with vision and just be a friend you could count on.

Kate was rightfully mad at Yelena for leaving without even as much as a goodbye. The person she loved so deeply in secret, the one she never told her feelings too just gone without a word broke her just as much as losing you broke her. She took her hurt out on her archery, winning contest after contest but none of that meant nothing to her when she couldn't show Yelena.

She kept in contact with Wanda and often would spend nights staying up talking to her about things she wished to talk to Yelena about. Kate could hear how much Wanda missed you, whenever your name was brought up in conversation, she wanted to change the topic. It was like you were dead and there was no place for anybody to grief and slowly you became a topic that was just too much for Wanda to listen too.

----

You needed no time to adjust to the environment that Red Room was. Dreykov sent you on many missions with his daughter, Antonia, even if you were solely there just to make sure she came back alive, neither of you spoke to each other and oddly enough you liked it that way. Your days there spent training no matter how much you already knew, you weren't to miss a day of training if you weren't on missions doing Dreykov's dirty work.

The other widows feared you and how much you were treated like Dreykov's shiny toy. He used you to set the new standards for Red Room. New widows would be injected with the same sternum you were injected with. You were the new standard, they all had to try and match your skill, your style, everything. Dreykov made becoming a widow a lot harder than it was. Yelena showed clear signs of being able to pass the training, which was perfect for Dreykov's real mission for you, that was until she was freed of course.

"Kill her. Don't bother bringing her back here" Dreykov spoke as he looked up from his screen towards you. "Yes, sir" you replied as you always did before your eyes dropped to the fellow Widow, you'd only seen in passing, "Is Antonia coming?" You questioned. Dreykov shook his head, "No. This is your mission. This is what have I prepared you for, you will go alone. You will report to me every morning until the mission is complete" he adds in a stern voice, "start with the house address on the second page, if Belova is going anywhere, it'll be there" He shoos you to leave his office, something he did far too many times.

Sometimes when you saw other widows talking among themselves you couldn't help but feel alone in a world where everywhere you looked was somebody just like you. At night you couldn't stop yourself from looking at the scars and wounds you'd collected from each mission, running your finger over them wondering if it was all worth it. All the killing, the guns, the damage it causes to the people and buildings. Was everything Dreykov made you do really for the best like he says? All these thoughts only to be reminded by the lack of freedom that you would never truly understand your place in the world. You are a weapon, you needed to remember that.

By morning you found yourself watching the house addressed in the mission file from miles away with binoculars glued to your face watching every move on the property. A woman with dark hair in a braid seemed to be doing some sort of testing on some pigs from what you could see, already assuming that was the famous Melina Vostokoff. Something about the area felt familiar, the house, the trees around you, the smell of the fresh air. You found yourself looking more at Melina with less care for the mission and trying to read her like she was trying to tell you something but maybe that was because you knew little about her from her file or maybe you were too focused on the mission and wanted to know everything there was.

For hours you sat and watched as she did work around her yard, as the minutes ticked on the place only got more familiar to you, but you still couldn't put a finger on it as to why. Your attention on Melina was broken by the sounds of conversation coming from the hill beside you, with your binoculars you could see a larger man, a little overweight with a big beard and slightly long hair. He was covered in tattoos, his white tank top doing nothing to hide them. Beside him were two young women, one with bright red hair, she wore a white suit while the other women had dirty blonde hair, a baggy white suit with a green vest. You looked down at the mission file to confirm the target was in fact, Yelena Belova.

You watched the three walk down the hill only to be greeted by Melina holding a rifle, your enhanced earing allowed you to listen to the unexpected greeting before the four traveled into the house. From the window, you could see they all sat at a table pouring drinks. The conversations between them made you take mental notes for when you had to report back to Dreykov.

"So, here's what's gonna happen" the redhead spoke, you could tell her voice from Yelena's. "Natasha don't slouch" Melina spoke, her Russian accent was thick, "I'm not slouching!" The woman you assumed was Natasha Romanoff argued.

"Yes, yes, you are!"

"I don't slouch!" Natasha spat.

"You're going to get a back hunch"

"Listen to your mother" a deeper voice spoke; you noted that voice down as Alexei Shostakov. Natasha signed "Oh, my God, this…"

"Up, up!" Melina prompts as you watch through the binoculars, smiling softly to yourself at the scene you watched from afar. Such an unusual family you thought as you continued to take mental notes and watch the family of four down glasses of what you assumed was vodka.

For a moment you lost yourself watching the family argue like other families did. "You're gonna tell us the location of the Red Room" Natasha demanded, shifting your attention back to the mission with a slight frown as you listened and watched even more.

"You can't defeat a man who commands the very will of others. You never saw the culmination of what we started in America, nor did you" Melina explained before you heard saw her pick up her device she was holding before, "What are you doing?" Natasha asked after Melina explained a few more things.

"Oh, I am explaining that the science is now so exact, the subject can be instructed to stop breathing and has no choice but to obey" she goes on.

After moments Melina explained more about the science behind Red Room and how they were able to do the things they do, to you, it meant nothing but knowing you were different to the other widows. Melina didn't mention anything about the things that they injected you with or why, all you knew was that you had to tell Dreykov they were coming for him.

You could hear the jets before you could see them as they surrounded the house with bright spotlights, guards you knew raided the house while you watched from a far unsure what to do when you saw them take your target, Yelena along with Natasha and Alexei into the jet.

"Let's not keep him waiting" you heard Melina speak.

----

You returned to Red Room a few short hours later when you didn't get any commands from Dreykov. Walking by the training widows to your room, you wondered where your target was and why Dreykov sent you on a goose chase.

"Sir, What was that all ab-"you you paused after welcoming yourself to his office, seeing the red head, Natasha and Dreykov both looking over at you. "You're here. Good" Dreykov muttered but your attention was stuck on Natasha who sat with a frown. "Y-Y/n?" she questioned softly.

"Oh, that's useless, she doesn't remember you or anybody else" Dreykov inserted himself.

"What? You brainwashed her?" Natasha spat as she looked at him. "It doesn't matter" he muttered as he walked over to her, "she's better than you, faster, tougher, smarter!" he adds while circling her, "she does everything I say, when I say it. She has no intentions of leaving" he says to her before he looks back at you, "get out, you're not needed now!" He commands and just like he mentioned, you did so without a peep and walked back to your room.

"I know what you and Belova have been doing and let me assure you that it won't work on Y/n" Dreykov chuckled slightly while looking at Natasha. "What have you done to her?" Natasha demanded causing Dreykov to pull out the file he had on you. Everything you have ever done for him on file, everything he's ever done to you, burnt.

"I gave her a real home" he replied placing the file in front of Natasha. "The Avengers, they kept looking for her. That was you, yes?" he adds. Natasha flicked through your file, some of the details she'd already known. You'd been on the Avengers radar for some time now, they just weren't able to track you back to Red Room. "For years you have been looking for her and now you have Belova looking too? She belongs to me, I raised her" Dreykov rambles as Natasha closes your file. "She belongs with her family!" Natasha looked up at the older man. He chuckled once again, "She has no family, not even Belova. She has no ties to her. Not anymore!"

He circled Natasha once more before leaning against his desk in front of her, "do you know what her next mission is?" He asked. Natasha's jaw clenched as she kept strong eye contact with, "she's going to kill Belova for me, clean up the mess."

Natasha couldn't help but laugh in the man's face, "kill Yelena? Really?" she chuckles. "Don't laugh at me! At first, I wanted her to kill you for betraying your family but now?" Dreykov moves behind his desk, "do you know what I could do with an Avenger under my control?" he mutters moving his pinkie finger ring across the touch pad. Natasha looked behind her at the large screen with a map and mug shot like photos of thousands of girls, "I gave them all a home, a purpose! I took them off the street and gave them a life!" Dreykov says.

"You took away their freedom! Their choices! You can't honestly sit there and think you'd a god" Natasha shook her head with a chuckle.

"Is this your plan huh?"

"My plan is to kill you" Natasha stood from her seat, Dreykov cocked a brow, "Well, I'm alive so what are we doing to do now huh?"

"You don't feel anything, do you?" Natasha frowned, "did you feel anything when I killed your daughter?"

Dreykov laughed as he looked over to Antonia who stood patiently in the background, "Really?" He gestured for Antonia to step forward, "thank you Natasha for giving me one of my greatest weapons"

---

You knew it would go against Dreykov's orders, but you couldn't help being drawn back to Melina's property, with your target in medical you assumed Dreykov would handle her and with Natasha in his office something didn't feel right. Slipping away without the guards noticing you was easy, especially when Dreykov was already busy with Yelena and Natasha. You traveled back to Melina's property knowing nobody was home, the sense of familiarity washed over you again.

Slowly you stepped into the house, a familiar smell greeted you as you stood in the kitchen, you'd been here before you told yourself, but nothing was coming to mind as you walked through to the living room and slowly up the stairs to the second floor. You were drawn to the first room on the right as it was the only room with a closed door. Touching the handle and turning it slowly brought you even more of a familiar sense to the building but again, nothing came to mind as to why.

The room smelt of dust as you switched the light on to see the bed made perfectly, a bookcase full of different books covered in dust leaving a trail from your finger as you ran over it. The desk looks as though this was a teenager's room, a laptop sat perfectly centered in the middle with a black leather book sat beside it. You frowned when you picked up the book, running your index finger over the red impressed name of yours before opening it.

"There is 365 pages in this book, drawing something for me every day, or don't. But I hope you do – Wanda"

Read on the first page, "Wanda" you whispered to yourself before flipping to the next page.

"Happy birthday, Мэри x"

Read the following page. The words stared back at you as you tried to work out who Mary was and why your name was on a book you'd never seen before and who was Wanda? You flipped to the next page as you sat down on the edge of the perfectly made bed with an even more confused look. A sketched drawing of 7 people sitting around a squared table with a birth cake in front of a young girl, at the bottom of the page wrote "first birthday!!" The longer you looked at the drawing the more you noticed who was in the photo, Yelena, Natasha, Melina, Alexei and two others you weren't sure of but there you were as a young girl with a big smile on her face with a banner above you that said "Happy Birthday"

Melina's voice soon clouded your mind with what you overheard earlier in the day, "The world functions on a higher level when it is controlled, Dreykov has chemically subjugated agents planted around the globe"

"Not me!" You mumbled to yourself as you threw the book to the side in frustration, "not me!" You spoke again. Your eyes caught a photo in a frame sitting on the desk, two small girls looking the happiest they've ever looked. You walked over to the photo and picked it up slowly, "Yelena" you whispered as you came to more realization. "Dreykov wanted me to kill Yelena because of this?" You asked yourself hoping that saying the words out loud would make more sense to the situation. Needing to take a moment as your breathing picked up and you felt overwhelmed you dropped the photo and stormed out of the room, leaving the light on. You needed answers and the only person who knew them was Dreykov.

----

"Where's Y/n?" Natasha asked as Yelena helped reline her shoulder. "I don't know, I couldn't find her. We have to find Dreykov" Yelena replied, "I'll be right behind you" Natasha spoke giving Yelena the nod to go ahead.

Yelena rushed out as the building started to crumble, making sure to search each room in looks for you knowing that Dreykov was already on his way out of the building. Each room only left her with more worry and fear as there was no sign of you anywhere, she only hoped that Melina and Alexei had found you or that you were fortunately, for once, on a mission. Natasha collected all the data she needed for Melina and Yelena to help save the other widows as quickly as she could, even doing more digging in Dreykov's files for your name. To her surprise she found a lot more than she thought she would.

You arrived at the usual place where Red Room was hidden only to find it crumbling, falling from the sky. Jets of Widows landed safely as you stood in anger waiting for any sign of Dreykov.

"Y/n, you got out!" One of the Widows came up to you with a worried look, your jaw clenched at the sound of her voice as you looked at her, "Where's Dreykov?! Did you make sure he was safe?!" you asked in a demanding tone, the widow whose name you didn't know looked into your eyes with fear, "T-they didn't spray you with the gas?" she asked.

"Gas?!" You frowned, "Where is Dreykov?!" You added.

"W-we don't know…he's been controlling us. They told us we were free…" she tried to explain, "Shut up! Where the hell is he?! You guys a fucking useless!" You spat as you pushed by her. "Wait!" The Widow stopped you by lightly holding your arm, "You don't belong to him anymore, just wait, we'll help you" she said.

"I don't need your damn help!" You gripped her wrist and forced her to let you go. A loud explosive was heard from above, all of you looked up to see what it was. "That better not be him!" You turned to the Widow.

"Please, let them explain"

"Who?!"

"Melina, she knows everything!"

"We can't trust them!" You shook your head leaving the group of widows behind and began searching the rubble for any signs of Dreykov or Antonia as more pieces of the place you called home fell from the sky. Among the rubble were the bodies of guards that didn't make it to the ground safely but still no sign of Dreykov. With more and more pieces falling you decided to wait where it was safe, further away from the scene and hope to see him land in one of the jets so you could handle him yourself.

Why was there a photo of Yelena with a toddle that looked a little like you? Why was there a sketch book with a drawing of a first birthday which you only start to feel like was your own, but these people were strangers to you. You only know them from what you've been told, and nothing was ever mentioned about you having any connection to them and if you did, you didn't remember it.

----

You realized the chances of Dreykov making it out alive were getting thinner by the second, you watched in the shadows as Natasha found Antonia before throwing a red dust into her face and the fight coming to a stop.

"Is he gone?" Antonia asked out of breath.

"He's gone" Natasha confirmed your fear. You watched her walk away after a few moments and called for Yelena. Now you'll never have the answers to your questions and without a home, what would you do? Where would you go?

Natasha found Yelena and you felt relief when you saw her movements from afar. Your heart only broke as you watched the two reconnect and hearing Natasha apologize in Russian. They were a family, a real family. You couldn't bear to watch anymore and it wasn't worth inserting yourself for a fight, quietly you disappeared into the woods leaving behind the only place you knew was safe. You were alone, confused and hurt, all these emotions you had Dreykov told you were worthless now it felt like the only thing that mattered.

You are alone, with nowhere to go.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #black widow #fanfiction #marvel

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