#it’s a song about the troubles and the deaths of two young boys | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

uravitsy · 3 months

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‘YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL’ SATORU GOJO

ACT ONE.

summary. gojo visits your grave once a year, reflecting on the limited time he had with you while going through the stages of grief. ☆

warnings. angst, sad!gojo, fem!reader! gojo x you, grief, established relationship, some smut if you squint, bittersweet ending

a/n. this is a short story i wrote over the summer, i wanted to dabble into the idea of gojo not being able to fully process his grief without the help of his students. it is a bit sad though.

ACT TWO : ̗̀➛ ACT THREE : ̗̀➛ FINALE

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

"Does Gojo-sensei seem…different today?" Itadori asked absentmindedly, leaning back in his chair while balancing a pencil on his nose. He was doing everything else but the work he was supposed to finish before class ended. His two close friends, Megumi and Nobara, spared him a quick glance, as if debating whether to answer his ridiculous question.

"When is that nutjob ever okay?" Nobara bounced back another question, making Itadori stop balancing himself on his chair to think for once. The pencil he had on his face clattered onto the ground. "If anything, he's more extra than he was yesterday."

"Exactly," Itadori frowned, the invisible lightbulb above his head continuing to flicker as he thought long and hard about what Gojo could be upset about. He knew it was a stretch, and he himself wasn't too good at reading emotions, but he was sure something was off—from the way Gojo's smile seemed wider to the way his laughs went on for a second too long. "What do you think, Megumi?"

The black-haired boy stopped moving his pencil across the paper. His face remained stoic as the two beside him turned to look in his direction, anticipating an answer from him.

In short, Megumi did know why Gojo seemed off today, and it was all because of his vague memory of you.

He was a clueless child back then, but he felt it. He felt the love you and Gojo shared, something he had seen before between his own mother and father. It was strong, beautiful, like a song that only you and Gojo knew the lyrics to. It was a dance—a slow burn into the spotlight of a world you two created.

He admired it. He admired you and the person you helped Gojo become.

And though your memory was beautiful, it was also tragic. Megumi did mourn you since he remembered bits and pieces of you, but he was sure Gojo mourned you the most. Especially since today was the anniversary of your death. For as long as he's known Gojo, he knew that this one day out of the year was the time when he'd crack more jokes, tease him more, and laugh the loudest—all to mask his pain.

And he couldn't help but think it's because Gojo never properly grieved for you.

"He's the same as usual," Megumi lied. It wasn't their place to know, nor was it his. Everyone had their secrets and the stuff they keep to themselves. Who were they to pry into his business? "You guys should just drop it."

And with that, he went back to his assignment, ignoring the gawking stares from both of his friends.

"Well, now I'm even more curious," Itadori pouted, resting his chin on his hand as he looked out the window just in time to see Gojo's back as he skipped off campus. "He's literally leaving in the middle of the day!"

"Itadori—" Megumi started but got interrupted by his friends' loud voices.

"What?!" Nobara pushed Itadori away from the window so she could look. A sudden spark of curiosity consumed her as she cracked a mischievous grin. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"We should follow him!" they both said at the same time as they rushed out of the classroom with such speed they left papers flying behind them.

Megumi could only sigh. His peers were likely to get in trouble and drag him into their mess somehow. It never fails. He thought for a moment about how he would benefit from following them to make sure they didn't get caught leaving school grounds without a teacher, but he came up with nothing. He figured he should take his own advice and mind his own business, let those two knuckleheads do whatever they want and suffer the consequences for it.

They could potentially run into dangerous curses, dangerous people, or dangerous people controlling dangerous curses… and then suffer grave injuries. You know what? Maybe he should follow them from a distance.

Meanwhile, the door to the flower shop gave a soft ding as Gojo opened it. His tall frame took up the space in the small shop. Gojo ducked his head as he came in, careful not to knock over the potted plants that rested on the floor and shelves in no particular order. The air was stale with an earthy smell that was oddly comforting. It was good to know that the place remained the same after a year—the only thing that stayed the same in his chaotic life.

"Satoru!" an elderly woman looked up from her newspaper at the sound of the doorbell, thick circle glasses making her eyes appear large and almost fish-like. "Good to see you! How have you been?"

"Mrs. Yamada," Gojo bowed respectfully to the elder, to which the lady playfully pinched and pulled his cheeks. "Missed you too!"

"You silly boy, you know you can visit anytime and not just once a year, you know (Y/N) would've loved that, hm?" Mrs. Yamada made her way behind the counter, already grabbing and wrapping up a single flower. A flower that was your favorite, the same kind you'd always get whenever you would come into this small flower shop.

Gojo never understood why you didn't let him buy a whole bouquet of the flowers you loved. "Then I'd have to take care of all of them," you'd say, your laugh like a sweet melody in his ears that he constantly wanted to replay. "When it's just one, I feel like it lasts longer, you know? I seem to appreciate it more."

The memory made him frown slightly. If you allowed it, he would've bought the whole damn store for you, and you wouldn't just be stuck with a single flower. He didn't get it. He didn't get you. Even after all these years, he was still trying to figure you out.

"Ah, she used to come in every Sunday morning to say hello," Mrs. Yamada smiled warmly. "Always ready to hound me for something sweet to eat. (Y/N) had a nose like a hound and a stomach like a sumo wrestler." The brown wrapping paper crinkled against the elder's fingertips as she folded it around the flower. "Oh, how I miss her."

"Come now, Mrs. Yamada," Gojo leaned against the counter, tapping the wood with excitement. "She'd want us to smile, to celebrate her life, right?! Then that's exactly what we'll do."

"Satoru…"

Gojo waved his hands dismissively. "The usual price for the flowers, right?"

"Yes," Mrs. Yamada rang him up at the cash register before sliding the flower across the counter toward him. But before Gojo could grab it, she pulled it away. "I wanted to tell you before I closed up shop for the day, but… I will be retiring next month."

Gojo's smile fell then.

"I am getting too old, and ever since my husband's passing, I find it quite hard to manage this all on my own, no matter how much I love to do so," she patted the counter lightly, eyes glazed over in a daze as if recalling a memory. "I will be closing the shop and moving to America to stay with my daughter."

"Then are you going to sell the building?"

Gojo found himself asking before he could even think about what to say.

"I'll buy it."

Even in death, you were expensive. How was that possible? Gojo found himself using his savings to buy a whole flower shop that you weren't even here to see. But did that matter to him? Of course not. You were worth every penny—and the shop, to him, was nothing more than a shiny penny that he could buy for your sake. All because you loved it and would visit it often. Gojo couldn't let it close down; it was too valuable for the sake of the memories it held.

So now he owned a flower shop. What the hell was he going to do with a flower shop? He didn't know a damn thing about flowers.

"(Y/N)…" Gojo whispered your name as he pushed open the metal graveyard gate, the bolt making a loud creaking noise that echoed into the summer breeze.

It didn't take Gojo long to find your headstone. After all these years, he knew this cemetery like the back of his hand; at this point, it was like a second home to him. The only place where he could truly let the mask fall as he mourned for you.

In the years you've been gone, he had a long time to think—to wonder why you of all people had to be taken away from him. It made him question, curse, and cry to a higher power above if there was one. Would they be listening? Did they hear him? Did they understand the pain he was put through? And if everything was a part of the higher power's plan, then why was (Y/N) written in with such a tragic story? Why did her life become a song of such somber music?

It wasn't fair. And to Gojo, he would never make sense of it, no matter how hard he tried.

"Ah, it's a beautiful day, (Y/N)." Gojo smiled warmly at your headstone before sitting on the smooth tile, rummaging through his bag to pull out a rag so he could wipe the dust that was on top of your engraved name. "Though I bet you're complaining about how hot it is. I know, it is a little toasty, but a beautiful day nonetheless."

Wiping the concrete clean, Gojo made sure it was spotless with all the cleaning supplies he brought. He had to make up for the year he was away; that's why he always deep-cleaned your headstone since he knew he wouldn't be back until next year. He wanted you to watch the seasons go by with a pretty headstone, one that sparkled whenever the sun cast its rays on it.

"Hm?" Gojo tilted his head as if to hear your unspoken question again. "Oh! I'm doing good. Still teaching. You'd love these lot of kids, though. They have such great potential and are such a reckless bunch who enjoy escaping off campus to follow me here."

"Crap! He's onto us." Gojo heard Nobara's voice from the bushes behind him.

"Do you think he knows?" Itadori asked in his typically clueless fashion.

"He knows, dumbass." Megumi sighed before emerging from the bushes with twiddledee and twiddledumb trailing behind him. Their bantering stopped once they saw Gojo sitting by your headstone, the air suddenly becoming still as they made their way closer.

"Gojo-sensei, we can explain—!"

"Don't even," the white-haired man laughed before gesturing toward the headstone. "(Y/N), meet my students. Students, meet (Y/N)!"

"Ah! Nice to meet you!" Itadori bowed in respect, and so did Megumi.

"Why are we bowing to a dead—" Grabbing ahold of Nobara's hand, Itadori forcibly pulled her down so she could bow as well.

"Oh, you kids are in so much trouble," Gojo said with a gleeful smile. "I'm already thinking of all the ways to punish you."

"In my defense," Megumi started, "I tried to stop them."

"Yetttttt you're still here." Tilting his head, Gojo looked at his students playfully. "I hope you all enjoyed this field trip, but let's head back to campus, yeah? And get ice cream along the way!"

"Oh! Ice cream!" Itadori and Nobara spun around in a dance as they made their way toward the entrance of the cemetery, the pair just finding it best not to question who you were or what you were to Gojo. They could finally sense what Itadori was talking about that morning. He was different today, and it was clear he was sad. "La la la la la!"

"Let's go, Megumi. Do you still prefer chocolate?" Gojo turned to walk away but stopped in his tracks when he noticed Megumi staring at your grave with an expression he couldn't read. "Megumi?"

"Gojo-sensei…" His student turned to look at him. "I just want you to know that it's okay to be sad, to grieve for her."

Gojo chuckled, tucking his hand in his pocket as a breeze cut through the air, its chilled warmth wrapping around the pair. "Who's to say I don't? I grieve her every day."

URAVITSY 2024

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bookworm551 · 1 year

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The Great War | Neteyam x Omatikaya!reader

Summary: You and Neteyam were childhood friends, always looking out for each other, but when the Sky People returned, neither of you could have anticipated the way it would affect your relationship with one another.

A/N: This is my first fic in a hot minute, so I got a little carried away. Part one of probably three, but we’ll see haha. I’ll be posting this to my AO3 account as well under Witbeyondmeasure501. Also, yes, I had this T.S. song playing on repeat as I was writing this.

7.9k words

Pairing: Neteyam x Omatikaya!reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, mentions of death, angst.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

War can stain the most beautiful things.

Not only does it burn your home, take away your loved ones, or drain your health, it casts its shadow over every happiness you have, even when you aren't always able to see it. It was naive of you to think that your relationship with Neteyam would be any different, that it would be unaffected by the weight of the war.

Both of you being young and ambitious, you were enlisted by his father to be aerial scouts, a job that was relatively safe but still helpful. You and Neteyam were proud of each other for doing something useful, and you were grateful to have each other in the field.

As time wore on, things got riskier. You would both come back with more cuts and bruises than before, but the time you spent tending to each other's wounds definitely made up for it. In fact, sitting together and applying healing balm to your injuries as you exchanged jokes and stories helped you both forget the dangers waiting beyond the entrance of the village.

The strain had started out subtly. When the two of you were 15, during one of the raids, Lo'ak had convinced Neteyam to join the ground troops in plundering the Sky People's train full of weapons, and in the process, the older Sully boy was injured and had to be rescued by his father, who proceeded to reprimand him as soon as they landed safely in the village. You watched him walk to a healing tent with injuries to both his torso and his pride and ran over to walk with him.

"It's not your fault," you told him as you came up to his side. "Lo'ak was being a skxawng, you should not have gotten in trouble for him." Neteyam sighed in irritation. "Not now, please," he said curtly. He was holding his injured side with his hand, and it seemed to pain him to climb over the higher parts of the cave floor. You lept up to the ledge in front of him, turned around, and offered your hand to help him up. "I am fine," he said and ignored your hand, opting to pull himself up instead and grunting in pain.

You rolled your eyes at him. Normally, he was very rational and composed, but if there was one thing that put him in a bad mood, it was being reprimanded by his father. You knew that the pressure of being the oldest son to Olo'eyktan weighed on him constantly, and the war didn't make anything easier for him. Still, you didn't appreciate his attitude towards you when you did nothing wrong, especially because you weren't quite used to it from him.

Time wore on, and so did the war. Once, when you were about a year older, you had been grazed by a bullet on your side. It was nothing serious, a flesh wound that you could take care of yourself, so you decided not to say anything, but when you all returned, Neteyam noticed. He always noticed.

"What is this?" he asked, moving your arm out of the way to get a better look at the graze that was slowly oozing blood. "Nothing serious," you responded quietly, looking around to make sure he didn't attract any attention to you. Neteyam looked at you with a hard stare. "You were shot," he stated matter-of-factly. "You need to go to my grandmother or Kiri."

You shook your head in protest. "There are others who need their attention more than I do," you explained. "I can take care of this myself." He held his stern gaze, but you knew his rational brain would agree with you that there were more serious injuries for the healers to care for. Letting out an exasperated sigh, he took you by the arm and muttered, "Come on."

You protested weakly before realizing that he was taking you back to his personal tent. Once inside, you sat down as he pulled out some salve and cloth he had stashed away. In the time since the Sky People had returned, you had both become proficient at mending wounds. Without saying anything, he lifted your arm and rested it on his shoulder so that he could begin cleaning your wound unencumbered by it.

Under your hand, you could feel the tension in his shoulder muscles. You studied his face as he worked in silence. At the first touch he made to your graze, you tensed and hissed in pain. "Sorry," he muttered, carefully working to clean it with a damp cloth. "It's fine," you responded in a strained voice. Silence settled over you again as he attended to you.

Usually, he would try to ease your discomfort by talking or trying to crack a joke, but this time he worked in silence. It made you a little uneasy, so you tried to lighten the mood. "If you think this is bad, you should have seen the other guy," you told him with a small smile.

No response.

He continued working in the salve with focused attention. Though you knew he was being as gentle as possible, you couldn't help but grimace in pain and tighten your grip on his shoulder. He stopped working for a moment to give you some reprieve, glancing at your face to make sure you were alright before continuing his job.

"It is not that serious," you whispered, desperate to break the silence that was now making you feel nervous. To that, there was a small response in the form of a scoff, but Neteyam's face remained stone cold as he reached for a cloth to bandage you with.

Watching him, you could see the effects of the war on his face. Across his cheeks and forehead were faint scars from the action he had seen. Even his expressions had changed to a much more serious look. It used to be almost effortless to make him smile, but recently, it was something you didn't see very often. Even in your current circumstance, he would've at least said something back, but his silence indicated to you that he had something pressing on his mind.

You tried again. "You know, next time maybe I will just go to Kiri," you said teasingly. "She and I have much better conversation than y-”

"You could have been killed," Neteyam snapped finally, cutting you off.

"What?" You replied in confusion. It wasn't that you didn't know you could have been killed; that was obvious. It was his tone of voice that caught you off-guard. He had never snapped at you like that before.

"You could have been killed," he repeated in an angry voice. He pointed at the graze on your side and then moved his finger a few inches over to the center of your stomach. "A few degrees over and you would be dead." You sighed, regaining your composure after being caught off-guard by his tone. "I am aware," you told him calmly, "but, as you can see, I am not dead." He wasn't amused.

"I am being serious," he said gravely. "You are lucky to be alive." You were starting to get annoyed. "So are you," you shot back. "So are all of us every day we return home because every day we go out and fight is a risk, a big risk." He stared at you with hard eyes but said nothing. You took a breath to try and calm yourself. You didn't want to fight with him.

With your hand still resting on his shoulder, you gave him a gentle squeeze and rubbed your thumb along the side of his neck. "I take my chances, and so do you," you told him. "But that is what we do to keep the People safe." His gaze finally softened, and he sighed and shook his head. After a beat, he whispered, "This was too close."

You couldn't help but give a small smile at him. He was being protective, and you couldn't fault him for being stressed about the war. You felt fortunate that neither Neteyam nor yourself had been injured too badly in the war, but you couldn't deny that this was a close one.

It wasn't the last close one either.

As you both got older, you were given more responsibilities with the war. In being closer to the action, you both saw more blood stain your lives. You still continued to patch each other up when necessary, but after what was said when he helped you with your bullet graze, neither of you could really bring yourselves to smile much after those missions.

Over the course of time since you had been involved in the war, your relationship with Neteyam had undergone a serious shift. Before, you were both bright-eyed and happy, enjoying your days running around together with your friends and his siblings. It was easy to be around him, to be open with each other.

You used to listen to him talk about his father, once a sojourner from the stars and now the leader of the Omatikaya. You knew how the responsibility of being the oldest son to Olo'eyktan rested heavily on his shoulders. He used to listen to you complain everytime you got in trouble for being out too late. The first day after he had bonded with his ikran, he had taken you flying above the forest.

After years of being at war, the gaiety in your relationship had eroded. Conversations about the stars turned to war strategies. The physical touch that used to be so casual and thoughtless went from playful pushes and hugs to careful and deliberate tending of wounds. Your words evolved from friendly challenges and jokes to variations of the words "Be safe."

The care you had for each other never wavered; on the contrary, in fact, it strengthened. However, you were both becoming hardened versions of your previous selves, and it made it difficult on your friendship. With every mission, your former carefree self fractured off.

Of course, the biggest shift occurred when your mother died.

She was in a hunting party when you were 17, just on the verge of becoming a fully realized member of the clan. She was an excellent hunter, possessing more patience than you ever could. She and the others in the party had gone just to the edge of what was considered the safe zone. Since the clan's migration into the mountains, it was difficult for the Sky People to attack them directly, but Jake had set a perimeter for their safety.

That day, there had been a troop of Sky People in large mecha-suits placing heavy explosives around the area to level the ground to start building a new station for their soldiers. Many members of the party decided to engage with the Sky People, but they didn't realize that they would be quickly outnumbered by the human soldiers and their machines.

You weren't there in the hunting party that day. You were sitting just inside the entrance of the village campsite when the two survivors of the party returned covered in blood. You recognized Kana and T'seyet as they slid off their pa'li. You knew that your mother had been with them.

Your blood ran cold. The two Na'vi were rushed to the healing tent, but not before they confirmed that the rest of the hunting party had been killed.

You felt like your spirit had been pulled from your body. It took a few moments for you to do anything. Lo'ak and your friend Ehlaya were standing not far from you and were by your side in a moment, but you didn't register their presence until Lo'ak touched your arm. You turned towards him in a daze, your eyes wide and uncomprehending. "My friend," Ehlaya said softly in a horrified tone, "I am so sorry."

You looked at her distraught face and that suspended moment of silence came crashing down as a wail rose out from your mouth. Your vision blurred, and your knees gave out. Lo'ak managed to catch you before you toppled to the ground, but grief poured over your body like ice water. You couldn't hear your friends' words. You couldn't hear your own anguished cries nor the cries of the families of the other slain Na'vi.

You couldn't see that Neteyam had arrived and was crouching before you. You couldn't feel him as he held you tightly to his chest. You just felt grief. Overwhelming grief.

After that day, you were different. Your tone was harsher and your temper shorter. Neteyam, blessed with an abundance of patience and empathy, never left your side through the worst of it. Even when you felt cross with him, he never held it against you, even when it would have been fair for him to do so.

Not long afterward, Neteyam completed the Uniltaron trial and was inducted as a fully mature and realized member of the Omatikaya. His bravery and skill in combat had proven his worth as a warrior of the People. The ceremony honoring his coming-of-age had been one of the first times you had genuinely smiled since the loss of your mother. You watched with pride as he was blessed by the Olo'eyktan and Tsahik.

Now that he was of age, whispers began spreading about Neteyam choosing a mate. His skill as a warrior, his status as the son of Toruk Makto, and his devastating good looks made him desirable to many of the young Na'vi women in the clan. At first, you were amused, especially when his siblings brought it up to tease him. After a while, though, the topic lost its humor as people continued to speculate over whom he would choose.

Deep down, you had always had a faint hope that he and you would be together when you were grown. You never let yourself think about it too much when you were younger, but now that you were older, you realized that the pool of eligible women in the village vying for his attention was a lot larger than it had originally seemed.

To make matters worse, you now thought about it every time you saw him speak with a woman. There were many capable hunters, formidable warriors, and talented healers all around him, and the whole subject left a bitter taste in your mouth.

You began flying in missions again a month after your mother's death. The action and adrenaline gave you a much-needed distraction from the clan gossip. After one mission, when Neteyam came back with a gash on his shoulder, you watched as one of the young healers offered to dress it. You felt a stab of jealousy when he graciously accepted her offer and followed her into one of the tents.

You knew you were being ridiculous, but it still stung when you thought about how it was usually you he went to for such things. You also knew it was ridiculous to think that you were the only woman he would look at. It didn't make you feel any better, though.

With Neteyam being a fully-fledged member of the clan, you started seeing him less. He had become more involved with the war and acted as his father's right hand. You felt him pull away from you bit by bit every day, and you didn't know how to stop it. When you wanted to talk, he was always busy. He was never with his family except late at night before they all went to bed. You spent some time with him briefly during meals or on the occasional hunting party, but his mind seemed preoccupied with other things.

Despite the bleak circumstances, you grew excited for the day you would be able to complete your own Uniltaron trial. You knew it was dangerous, but you felt prepared. A few weeks before your trial, Jake called you and other Omatikaya together, including Neteyam. There were many warriors gathered together sitting around their leader, and you joined next to your friend.

"Listen," the Olo'eyktan began, "we've been getting our asses handed to us out there trying to take out that base." The base in question was the one constructed where your mother had been killed. Your clan had made numerous attacks on it since it was so close to the border, but every time, the Sky People were prepared, as if they knew you were coming. It had led to a lot of bloodshed.

"Now, our enemies know when we're coming," he continued. "I'm thinking they have constant movement sensors or thermal imaging that lets them know we're coming. So, here's the plan."

The plan was simple enough but extremely risky. To avoid being caught on the movement sensors, you and Neteyam would take your ikran only partway to the base where Jake estimated you would still be outside the range of the motion detectors. Then, armed with electromagnetic devices you had stolen in a previous raid, the two of you would covertly place them in a perimeter around the base. Once activated, the field would jam the motion-detecting radar as well as interfere with any thermal imaging.

In addition to setting up the jamming devices, you would also rig explosives near every entrance so that when the Sky People came out to fight, the first wave would be taken out. Once everything was set in place, Neteyam would signal his father with their throat comms, and the rest of the party would fly out and attack.

"Why only two of us?" Neteyam asked when his father had finished his initial explanation. "Why not more of us to set up everything?" Jake nodded his approval at the question. "We can't risk getting picked up by those detectors. I figure if there's only two of you, if they see anything, they'll just assume you're animals. However, it is of utmost importance that you remain as subtle as possible, and do not engage with the Sky People until backup has arrived."

You nodded your understanding at him. You could see why he chose the two of you. Even though your clan knew how to hide amongst the trees, you had proven exceptionally stealthy, even by Omatikaya standards. There was no one in the clan who could find you if you didn't want to be found. Neteyam was the same way, so it made sense that Jake chose you for this role in the mission.

After being dismissed, you stood by the entrance of the war tent waiting for Neteyam to emerge. He often stayed behind to speak with his father after such meetings. Even now, you could hear their voices, and you would have never thought to eavesdrop on them until you heard your name.

With your ears perked up, you couldn't help but lean toward the tent to understand what was being said inside.

"I do not believe she is fit for this mission," you heard Neteyam say. "She has not yet completed Uniltaron, this mission should be for warriors." Your stomach dropped at his words. How could he say such a thing? He wasn't wrong about you not being a fully mature member of the clan, but you had gone on countless missions before, and this was hardly any different.

"Listen, son," Jake countered, "I know you're worried for her, but I'm confident in her ability to help execute this plan. Besides, she has her Uniltaron trial coming up very soon. She is very capable of doing this." Even though you were hurt by Neteyam's words, the vote of confidence from the Olo'eyktan warmed your chest.

Neteyam didn't give up so easily. "Why not just send me and Lo'ak instead, if warrior status doesn't matter?" To that, you were personally offended. Not only were you much stealthier than Lo'ak, but you could actually follow orders when they were given.

"Nice try," Jake said, "but I need someone out there who I know isn't gonna screw around and start fighting before it's time." Vindication.

"She doesn't have the necessary battle experience," Neteyam argued further. "She will be-"

"Enough. My mind is made up. Don't push this anymore." Jake's voice had a hard edge to it that made talking back next to impossible.

"Yes, sir," Neteyam replied obediently, though you could still hear the frustration he was trying to suppress. After a moment of silence, Jake said, "You're dismissed."

You stepped away from the tent before Neteyam could walk out on you listening. Besides, you didn't want to talk to him anymore. You were too hurt and angry at him for trying to get you off the mission to speak to him. You knew if he saw you, you wouldn't be able to pretend like nothing was wrong, and he would eventually figure out that you spied on him and his father.

His words echoed in your head. I do not believe she is fit for this mission. How many times had you flown together into the face of peril? Neither of you could keep track of the number of times you had spent listening in battle meetings, sitting in medical tents after a fight, or exchanging quick words before flying off to let the other know you wished them luck. You thought he saw you as an equal.

Your anger hadn't subsided the next day as you prepared for the mission that night. Avoiding Neteyam took special skill when you were both preparing for a special mission together.

The day passed slowly, but finally, you and the rest of the war party were preparing to leave. Unfortunately, you weren't able to avoid Neteyam anymore, and he came up to you as you were strapping your bow to your ikran, Kazi. Still upset, you gave him a wordless glance before continuing to secure your saddle.

"Nervous?" he asked, noticing your lack of eye contact.

"No," you answered flatly. "I have flown many missions before. This isn't any different." He watched you quietly for a moment. "This is different," he said. "You have never had to be so close to the fighting." You scoffed. "I am capable of handling myself, and thank you for having so much confidence in me," you answered, your words dripping with sarcasm. You knew you would be bad at hiding your anger.

Neteyam noticed your sharp tone and pointed words because he always noticed when something was up with you. "I am confident in you," he defended, confusion crossing his face. "Why would I doubt you?" You clenched your jaw briefly before replying shortly, "You tell me."

"What does that mean?"

You stared up at his face in irritation. He held your gaze, and you could see he was trying to figure out what was upsetting you, so you looked away in hopes that he would drop it. "Nothing," you mumbled, checking the straps on your saddle again for no reason other than to avoid looking at him.

Neteyam grabbed your shoulder firmly and turned you to face him. He looked at you closely, and you could see that a thought had occurred to him. "Did you-" he didn't need to finish the question, you knew what he was asking, and the fact that you knew what he was asking clearly made you guilty. Did you spy on me? You looked away, embarrassed but still upset.

Reading the answer to his unfinished question on your face, he stepped back and took a deep breath in exasperation, running a hand down his face as he fought to stay composed. After a tense pause, he looked down at you, appearing just as frustrated as you felt. "I don't even know where to start with you," he said finally.

Even though you felt bad about eavesdropping on his conversation with his father (and even worse at being caught), you weren't about to apologize when you still felt the sting of his words from the previous night. "It doesn't matter," you told him mutely, "and it doesn't change the fact that I am coming on this mission."

He closed his eyes for a few seconds, a sure sign that he was checking his temper. You hated seeing him like this. It used to be that you could count on one hand the number of times Neteyam came even remotely close to being annoyed with you. Now, it felt like every other time you spoke together, you had some sort of verbal spar.

"I did not mean to insult you," he said in a low voice. "And I am confident in your abilities. I just-" he paused, searching for the right thing to say. "I don't want to see you hurt."

You felt a bit of guilt creep over you, replacing some of your irritation. You couldn't blame him for being concerned. You were worried for him every day he left the entrance of the cave. You knew deep down that all these negative feelings you were both experiencing in your friendship lately were rooted in how much you both cared for each other. When you thought about it like that, it was hard to stay mad at him.

He placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch a comforting feeling you had missed. You looked up at him, this time without any hostility on your face, and he looked at you softly. It was nice, this moment of peace between you two. Then, in a quiet voice, he said, "Please stay back. I can do it alone."

Two sentences and that brief peace was shattered, and your animosity immediately returned. You huffed in exasperation and knocked his hand off of your shoulder. Before either of you could say anything else, Jake's voice called out to the war party, "Let's get mounted, we move out in two minutes."

Shooting one last angry look at Neteyam, you swung up to mount Kazi and attached your queue to hers. She hissed and beat her wings a few times in response to feeling your own agitation, making Neteyam take a few steps back. You patted Kazi a few times to soothe her, not looking down at the warrior. He stood there for a moment in hesitation. This was usually the time when you would tell each other to be careful. You had never flown a mission without wishing each other's safety beforehand.

Finally, he came up to your side and placed his hand on your thigh. You tensed slightly under his touch but didn't try and shake it off. He looked up at you from the ground, and you could see the mix of emotions on his face. "Be safe," he said quietly, and you could really feel how earnestly he meant it.

You should swallow your pride, just let go of your bitterness and say it back. You wanted to, but you were also too stubborn to forget that he wanted you off of this mission. So, instead of reciprocating the wish, you just mumbled, "I will."

You didn't look at him, knowing that seeing the expression on his face would just make you feel worse than you already did. You felt his hand slide off of your leg, and you watched him out of your peripheral vision as he mounted his own ikran beside his father.

In the cover of the night, you and the other warriors flew in silence. You couldn't help but think of the way you left Neteyam. You kicked yourself mentally for not saying it back. You decided when you landed at the halfway point, you would try and make things right with him.

It didn't take long before Jake started flying down toward the canopy of trees. You all followed suit and descended as well. You gave Kazi a few pats when she landed, and through your bond, you implored her to stay with the rest of the ikran. It wasn't so much that you thought the words for her to understand, but it was more like you just wished for her to stay, and she could understand.

You dismounted and zeroed in on Neteyam's lean form illuminated by the glow of the plants around you. Taking a deep breath to reassure yourself, you came up to him as he stepped off of his own ikran. "Neteyam," you said quietly, "I did not mean-"

"All right, you two," Jake interrupted, approaching you and his son. "You know your orders. Stay low, and stay out of trouble. Keep radio contact to a minimum."

"Yes, sir," you both said in unison.

Jake nodded in dismissal. You returned to Kazi and grabbed the sack full of jammers, strapping it securely to your person. You checked that your knives, one on your thigh and the other across your stomach, were securely in place. You held your bow and grabbed as many arrows as you could hold. Giving your ikran one last comforting pat, you turned back to Neteyam.

He was speaking to Jake in a low voice, and your stomach tightened in fear of him revealing that you listened in on their conversation from the previous night. However, you realized this wasn't the case when Jake grabbed his son by the back of his head affectionately and pulled him close so that their foreheads touched. You could remember a time when Jake would have had to stoop to do so, but now the two warriors stood at eye level with each other.

Pulling away, your leader gave a swift nod, and you and Neteyam made your way toward the base on foot. He set a brisk pace that you had to match in order to keep up. The silence between you two was thick and charged with negative feelings. You felt the guilt gnawing at your heart from what you had said, or rather, hadn't said before.

Remembering your resolution to apologize, you figured if you didn't say something now, it would be too late to say anything at all. Once you were well out of view from the rest of the party, you slowed down. "Neteyam," you called out softly. He stopped moving and looked back at you in concern. He was clearly in mission mode and thought something was wrong.

You held up a hand to assuage his concerns. "About earlier," you began uncomfortably. You hated apologizing, and you weren't very good at it. "I should not have listened in on you and your father last night. It was wrong." Neteyam said nothing, and his face stared at you passively. Taking a breath, you steeled yourself before saying, "I'm sorry."

Your apology hung in the air for a moment, and in that time, you had the dreadful thought that he would just turn around and keep moving through the forest.

Finally, he gave a large sigh that let out some of the tension in his broad shoulders. He was a better person than you in that he would always opt for peace over furthering an argument, and he knew how difficult it was for you to apologize to anyone.

"What is this between us?" He muttered questioningly, gesturing loosely between himself and you. "Why is there this anger and bitterness?" He sounded drained and insecure, two attributes that vastly contradicted who he was most of the time. You looked at the ground, ashamed of how you let your relationship deteriorate like this.

"I don't want to fight anymore," he said quietly, walking over to you. You looked up at him and realized just how close he was to you. You could count the individual glowing spots on his face.

"I don't want to fight anymore either," you responded in a whisper. "I'm sorry."

His amber eyes softened as they looked down on you. Dropping his bow, he lifted his arms at the elbow with his palms up, and, following suit, you placed your own forearms on top of his. The two of you stood there holding each other's arms in the dark for a second. It was the closest you had been in a long time.

"I'm sorry, too," he said after a moment. "I should not have said those things to my father." He traced his thumbs over your skin, causing your face to warm. "I'm just worried you will do something stupid like get hurt." This earned him a small smile from you, and it released much of the tension between you.

"When have I ever done something stupid?" You pretended to be offended. He smiled back at you softly. "Too many times to count," he murmured. You wanted to make a smart retort, but as you looked up at him, the way he was gazing back at you made your breathing falter. It was like he was trying to memorize your features, counting the tiny scars and glowing marks that were scattered across your face.

In the blink of an eye, he came back into focus, and you both remembered that you had a greater task at hand. Reluctantly, he pulled away from you and stooped to pick up his bow. Immediately, you missed his touch, but you nevertheless picked up your bow and set off with him through the trees.

You moved quickly through the forest, feeling a lot lighter without the weight of your remorse in your chest. As you got closer, you started moving slower to be more discreet. Creeping to the edge of the clearing, you both peered at the base illuminated by the artificial lights in the darkness. Your heart was pounding as you realized that this was the place where your mother died, and you needed to take a calming breath. Seeming to read your thoughts, Neteyam placed a comforting hand on your lower back.

Shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you set down your bow and arrows and reached into your pack to hand him two of the four jammers. Your orders had been that he would set up one on the north and west sides, and you would set up on the east and south sides.

He gave you a quick nod and moved to start setting them up, but you grabbed his arm and turned him to face you. "Be safe," you whisper as quietly as you could. He gave you a quick smile and replied, "I will."

Okay, you had that one coming.

"Don't do anything stupid," he whispered, causing you to roll your eyes playfully as he disappeared without another sound.

You moved slowly to ensure you didn't raise any alarm. Once you had set up your jammers, you returned to where you had set down your weapon. Neteyam was already waiting for you there. You sidled up to him, and when he noticed your return, he pressed his throat comm and whispered, "The perimeter is set, ready to move to phase two."

Phase two involved activating the jammers and setting up the explosives while the rest of the war party would fly in on their ikran now that the Sky People wouldn't be able to detect their presence.

After Neteyam paused briefly to listen to his father, he whispered, "Yes sir. Over and out." Activating the jammers meant that in addition to disrupting the sensors for the Sky People, it would also interfere with the communication with Jake and the others. Now, the plan was at its most vulnerable. If something went wrong here, there was no way for the two of you to alert the war party.

Neteyam pulled out the explosives from his own pack. He handed them wordlessly to you, and you both silently split up to set up the explosives at each entrance.

The base was relatively small, more of a depot really. It had a large operating unit that was connected by a long hall to the hangar. The hangar had two large bay doors that you knew contained several mecha-suits and other heavy machinery meant for war. In the operating unit, there were two doors on every side except for where the hall tunnel connected. The hangar had one regular door beside the bays and one on the opposite side. Spread across the clearing were several large metal crates that you suspected housed an assortment of weapons.

At each entrance, you placed one explosive and two on each bay door. They stuck to the doors, and you twisted the dial until you heard a click, indicating that they were set. When a human opened the door, the movement would trigger the explosion.

With everything set, all that was left to do was wait. You returned to where you set down your bow and arrows. Neteyam was there waiting, too. You were both crouched on a tree, your arms brushing with how close you were to each other.

Before long, the war party emerged over the trees on their ikran. You felt your heart pound as they approached, knowing that the peace of the night was about to be destroyed by their attack.

As they closed in, Jake and a few others threw grenades into the center of the clearing. They didn't do much damage, but that wasn't the point. Setting off the alarms and turning on the emergency lights was the point. And that's exactly what it did.

Shortly after the grenades went off, there were several large explosions at the doors of the base. The Sky People standing behind the doors had been obliterated. Smoke surrounded the base as the alarms kept blaring. As you had expected, more of the humans poured out of the blasted entrances, and the chaos of battle began.

Amidst the noise, you and Neteyam called out for your ikran. You saw Kazi circle in the air before descending to where you were hiding, but before she could land, one of the humans began firing at her. Screeching in pain, she pulled up and twisted away to avoid the gunshots.

Anger flared in your chest. You pulled back an arrow and let it fly. It made its home in the stomach of your target, but another human nearby had noticed his comrade being shot and looked at where you were crouching on the edge of the clearing. He turned his gun to you and started shooting. You and Neteyam ducked behind the trees just in time to avoid being injured.

You moved quickly behind the trees, the gunfire following after you. You paused behind a tree for safety, nocked another arrow onto your bow, and turned out to shoot the soldier, but when you did, he had already fallen with one of Neteyam's arrows sticking from his ribs.

More Sky People flooded out from the base. You saw Kazi land not far from where you were standing. Still holding an arrow on your bowstring, you ran out from the trees over to where she was waiting.

Several humans stood between you, but their attention was spread all over the place. You shot at one who was aiming at Kazi, and taking your knife from your stomach, you slashed it through the neck of the one closest to you. As you nearly reached your ikran, you saw a small object sail through the air and land between you. You barely had enough time to slow down before the grenade exploded, knocking you backward with its force. Screeching, Kazi flew up frantically away from the explosion.

Ears ringing, you pushed yourself up from the ground as quickly as you could and grabbed your bow. The human who threw the explosive was standing off to the side right between one of the metal crates and the building of the base. You saw as he raised his gun towards your ikran. Anger burned in you. Your mother died here in this clearing, and you would be damned if your ikran was killed here, too.

You pulled back your arrow. He was standing with his side to you, making him a tough target. You opted to shoot his gun instead, knocking it out of his hands before he could start shooting. He stood surprised for a moment as you ran towards him, pulling your second knife from your thigh. The soldier also pulled a knife from its sheath and crouched as you approached swiftly.

Once in arms reach, he sprang forward and swiped at your legs with his knife. You lept right, narrowly avoiding a gash on your thigh, and slashed your knife down at him. You managed to catch his arm, but it wasn't very deep. He reeled back in pain, scowling deeply at you. You scowled back and hissed at him.

He launched himself forward again at you. You tried dodging again, but this time he seemed to anticipate it. Swapping his knife to his other hand, he sliced at your waist, catching the side of your stomach and cutting deep enough that the blood immediately started dripping down your side. He came back at you with his knife, but you managed to parry with your own, and with your other hand, you ripped off the soldier's air mask.

Immediately, he was gasping for breath, and you were able to plunge your knife into his chest. As he dropped to the ground, you fell back against the metal crate behind you. You held your hand over your bleeding wound, wincing at the pain. It was a pretty bad cut, bad enough that you knew you should move away from the fight to bandage it to stop the bleeding.

You stepped away from the crate still clutching your side. Kazi wasn't too far from where you were standing, and the coast was clear for you to hustle over to her.

What you hadn't realized at the time was that not all of the doors had exploded in the first few moments of the battle. You didn't notice that you were standing next to one of those unopened doors. You couldn't hear the footsteps running towards the unopened door from inside. You barely registered what happened as you were thrown back off of your feet when the door exploded before your head slammed against the metal crate, and you passed out.

You weren't sure how long you were out when you came to again. The sounds of voices echoed above you, but it was hard to determine what was being said. You concentrated on bringing the noises into focus. You could discern a woman's voice calling your name above you.

"Mother?" You said weakly. You opened your bleary eyes and saw several faces hovering over yours. "No, child," one of the faces told you. You blinked several times, trying to pull them into focus. You finally made out Mo'at as the source of the voice speaking to you. The other faces above you belonged to Kiri and Neteyam, both full of concern.

You groaned in pain. Your head throbbed, and your side burned. "Do not move," Mo'at instructed sternly. Kiri pushed her brother's shoulder. "You should leave," she told him gently. Neteyam shook off her hand and shook his head. "I'm not going anywhere," he said resolutely.

You reached a hand up toward him. He took it immediately, and you were dimly aware of a warm substance on his hand that you learned later was your own blood.

"Wha- what happened?" you asked weakly. Instead of getting an answer, Kiri held up a smoking leaf and blew toward your face. Breathing in the sweet scent of the smoke, you felt the world become distorted, and you drifted out of consciousness again.

The second time you woke up wasn't so confusing. You blinked your eyes open and found that you were in one of the healing tents. Light was pouring in from the entrance, illuminating the inside of the tent.

You started to move, but a sharp pain in your abdomen caused you to gasp and lie still. From beside you, a figure you hadn't noticed sat up quickly.

"You are awake," Neteyam said groggily. He seemed to have fallen asleep against the side of the tent and was roused by your movement. "So are you," you responded, your voice sounding hoarse. "Have you been sleeping here?"

He shook his head a little. "I didn't mean to fall asleep," he admitted. You hummed. What remained of his war paint was smeared across his face, he still had some blood dried on his arms, and he was trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes. It was sort of comical.

"You look terrible," you told him. "You look worse," he retorted. That made you smile. "How do you feel?" Your hand went to your head. It was still aching, but not as bad as before. Your cut on your abdomen radiated with pain even though you weren't moving. "I've been better," you admitted with a grimace. "What happened?"

Neteyam moved over to you and crossed his legs as he sat. "I'm not sure," he muttered. "One moment, I see you fighting a human, the next, you were nowhere to be seen." He wasn't looking at you as he spoke, his eyes fixed on a spot far away. "When my ikran found me," he continued, "I looked for you and found you bleeding and unconscious." His jaw tensed at the memory. "Your ikran was standing over you, protecting you. She barely let me get to you."

You smiled softly, your love for Kazi warming your chest. "Is she okay?" You asked. He nodded. "She took some bullets to her wings, but she'll be okay," he answered. You were relieved.

"When I got to you," he continued, "you were bleeding very badly. For a moment, I thought-" his voice faltered, and he closed his eyes to regain his composure. Your chest tightened. You reached your hand out and grabbed his arm comfortingly. He placed his own hand on top of yours and sighed.

"I picked you up and took you back here," he said finally. "My grandmother and Kiri worked for a long time to patch you up." You had a flashback of Mo'at's face hovering over your own with Kiri helping next to her.

You lay in silence for a moment. Neteyam was still staring off into the distance, thinking about the events of the night before. You could feel his thumb rubbing gently across the top of your hand. Finally, he let out a sigh and looked at you. "I told you not to do anything stupid," he whispered, his voice tight with emotion.

You swallowed thickly. It was hard to see him emotional when he was always so composed and rational. "I know," you told him quietly. "I didn't mean to scare you." He managed to give you a sad smile and ran his hand over your forehead.

"I should get my grandmother," he said at last, moving to stand up, but you held onto his arm. He looked at you questioningly. You gave him a wry smile. "You seem tired," you said with exaggerated concern. "I think you should lie down for a while. These blankets are quite comfortable."

He stared down at you with a slow smile spreading across his face. "Is that so?" He questioned. You nodded your head solemnly, trying to suppress your own smile. "Well," he said, shifting his position to lie down beside you. "In that case, maybe I can rest my eyes for a moment."

You chuckled at him and then immediately regretted doing so as your wound sent pain throughout your torso. "Don't make me laugh," you groaned. He settled in next to you gently. "I will do my best," he mumbled, pulling you close. It wasn't long before his breathing slowed, and you knew he had fallen asleep.

Part 2

#neteyam sully #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam fic #neteyam angst #hurt/comfort #avatar #avatar the way of water

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choicesficwriterscreations · 1 year

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May MC of the Month: Daenarya of Riverbend

Please welcome our fourth MC of the month! Each month, we will highlight one MC or OC that is currently on our Meet My MC / OC List. The MC / OC is selected randomly on the Wheel of Names, and eligibility requirements can be found here. We accept MC / OC profiles on an ongoing basis. Please feel free to send yours in!

This month's MC of the month is...

@storyofmychoices 's Daenarya of Riverbend!

Learn more about Daenarya and her creator, Dani, below.

In your words, tell us what you like most about your MC. Daenarya is fun. She is crazy and exciting and silly and just amazing. Daenarya speaks her mind and goes after what she wants. She doesn’t let the troubles of her past hinder her future. She never forgets what happened, but she still is able to live in the moment and find enjoyment in all she does.

Do you feel your MC is like you at all? How are you alike or different? I have so much fun writing Daenarya because she is not like me at all. Daenarya goes after what she wants and takes it. I would need to make a pros and cons list, imagine every possible scenario, do some research, make another list, and then maybe, just maybe, I could make a decision to go after something. Daenarya takes risks without a second thought. She lives in the moment. She isn’t hindered by anxiety or other mental health issues. She just is who she is, and she is confident in herself. She embraces her good, bad, and ugly. She has no shame in being who she is, and I greatly admire that.

What is most important to your MC? What is their motivation in life? Daenarya never wants to let a day pass without making the most of it. Her parents died young, and they never got to do a lot of the things that they talked about. She doesn’t want that to be her life. She is willing to take risks if there is a chance for a reward. I think that is her biggest motivation. Just to live. Carpe Diem. Later, her biggest motivation is protecting her family. They are the most important thing to her. She will do anything to make sure they are safe. She is a fierce mama bear. You wouldn’t want to mess with her.

What are their biggest pet peeves/dislikes? Daenarya’s biggest pet peeve is probably when Mal wins. With these two, everything is a game, and Daenarya is always playing to win. She also gets frustrated when Threep eats the last of the sweets. Also, people who chew loudly and/or with their mouths open

If your MC could change one thing - anything - what would it be? Daenarya thinks about this a lot. She wonders if she ever had this choice of what she would do. She would want to change the death of her parents. She loved them more than anything, and they had a beautiful life together. However, had her parents never died, she might never have met (and grown up with) Kade and then later Nia, Mal, Tyril, and Imtura. Had she not met them, they might not have saved the realm. Had she not met them, she wouldn’t have her two boys (Lydo and Rayden) and her unborn daughter. (In my writing, that’s as far as she is, but she has two more kids coming in the future). All that to say, Daenarya wouldn’t change a thing. All of the pain from her youth brought her a life of love and joy, and she wouldn’t risk that for anything.

What is your MC’s favorite quote or song? Some quotes that represent Daenarya: "The purpose of life is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for the newer and richer experience." - Eleanor Roosevelt "As soon as I saw you, I knew a grand adventure was about to happen." - A.A. Milne "Home is not where you are from, it is where you belong. Some of us travel the whole world to find it. Others find it in a person." Beau Taplin

Is there anything else you’d like to share about your MC: I love Daenarya because we are so different. I get to live vicariously through some of her adventures. But I also love the life I’ve created for her. I have a really soft spot for children, especially those who are overlooked, forgotten, or mistreated. Yes, there are many people who want to adopt, but there are so many kids on their own, in and out of foster care, and/or in bad situations. I often wish I had enough money to open an orphanage. I know it’s not as good as a family, but it is better than some of the conditions children face. I want to do more to help children, and I love that Mal and Daenarya can do that at their orphanage. I admire her and Mal for all they do and how big their hearts are. I never expected Choices to make Mal’s orphanage canon when I started writing it and pitching it early in the book, but I love it. I think it is the most perfect path for Mal. He will be such an incredible mentor to those children, and I’m glad Daenarya, and I get to help him in that adventure. Mal’s Orphanage Series is my favorite of my Blades stories, and I am very grateful to everyone who has ever supported it! Thank you!

Visit Daenarya's full profile to learn more!

#cfwc mc of the month #mc of the month #daenarya of riverbend #blades of light and shadow #storyofmychoices #playchoices #choices fic writers creations #choices fanfic #playchoices fanfic

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drdt-headcanons · 8 months

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I wanna do one HC per character :)

Teruko Tawaki ~ She’s gotten into the craziest trouble before. Like she’s probably been framed for a crime and then let out at like the last second, or joined a gang by accident and then ran away.

Xander Matthews ~ He is a huge history buff and although he doesn’t agree with most things in history, he uses successful tactics other historical advocates used for his own protests and rebellions.

Charles Cuevas ~ his parents were highly against him doing chemistry, and had no idea he was even pursuing it until he won an award in highschool for it. They knew he took chemistry class and aced it, but they didn’t know the hours he spend after school were not actually gardening, but it was him studying and doing high level chemistry experiments.

Ace Markey ~ he tried to be a basic white boy back in middle school to become more popular, but he missed the memo and accidentally ended up dressing like a basic white girl instead 😭

Arei Nageishi ~ she’s definitely a hello kitty girl, but the stereotypical bitchy one

Rose Lacroix ~ she’s drank the paint water so many times by mistake she can’t even differentiate the taste between real water and paint water anymore

Hu Jing ~ Hu can also play a lot of other instruments! Although she prefers and likes the Zither out of all of them, she plays piano, acoustic guitar and cello if her high school needed that instrument for smth or someone around town did.

Eden Tobisa ~ Eden was that one super goody two-shoes back in highschool. She always did volunteer work, had pretty good grades, was the founder or in many activist clubs.

Levi Fontana ~ definitely dresses in women’s clothes. He believes clothes aren’t gendered, but he doesn’t go out wearing “women’s clothes” bc he’s worried that his reputation would be slandered.

Arturo Giles ~ he used to own all the ‘girly toys’ like LEGO Friends, and instead of building the kit, he made all the characters have the most insane, toe-curling, suspenseful drama with each other and he would narrate it and do all the voices.

Min Jeung ~ Min gives the meanest death stare. She would get teased in school for having no social life, but once she stared you down, you’d never make fun of her again.

David Chiem ~ He sets his alarm for an hour earlier than he actually has to get up, because it takes him an hour to get up and motivated and out of bed.

Veronika Grebenishchikova ~ She does insane things to impress people she has a crush on. Once, she made a heart that looked and felt exactly like a human heart and gifted it to the person she liked. After that, her reputation was basically ruined.

J Rosales ~ J definitely had a middle school emo phase. Once she disappeared from the media, she cut her hair, dyed it black and started listening to MCR and acted like her life sucked. The rebellion is still in her, but she’s matured and just prefers boyish clothes and dad-rock more than anything.

Whit Young ~ the biggest pop fan to exist. He knows every popular song, artist, but the catch is he only knows them if it’s a female singing. He couldn’t give a crap about male singers.

Nico Hakobyan ~ only likes cartoon shows that star animals, like Bluey. They also like books that star animals, but they prefer to see the animals animated on screen.

//I didn’t mean for this to get so long but ty and I hope you enjoyed the HCs!!!

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kakyoinswifey · 2 years

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at the time someone asked me for this request, i was obsessed with lover by taylor swift. currently, i'm in love with that song again. so guess what? i'm writing for jotaro + lover again because i want and i can.

lover — jotaro kujo x reader

genre ; angst, comfort and a bit of fluff?

cw ; two people with traumas trying to stay together to get over it and obliviously falling in love, this will deal with the sc characters' death.

fuck grammar mistakes, I'm sleepy.

Meeting people who understand you and love you as such is complicated. You've known it forever, relationships are very complex, but even when you thought it would be almost impossible to connect in that special way, you found yourself in the middle of a dangerous journey full of bizarre adventures. It was funny to see how everything you thought was unattainable, came to you in such a short time, but it was funnier to see how fate took it from you as soon as it had given it to you.

For the thousandth time, you stood in front of that photographic frame in which you were with your friends. Your index finger approached to caress the faces that were no longer with you, or those that had separated from you. The red-haired boy who used to joke around while eating cherries, the young man who acted as the wise and responsible adult of the group, even the canine who had arrived halfway through the journey or the impulsive Frenchman who always got into trouble, at least he was fine, but you couldn't see him because of the distance... You had the opportunity to interact in different ways with them, but you knew that that trip, even if it was only 50 days, felt like years of familiarity and friendship.

Despite everything you could and wanted to believe, you knew you weren't okay. Your tears fell silently, not really wanting to be found crying again. Grieving could be hard, but you had to appear strong to avoid explaining your feelings. It wasn't the healthiest, but you thought that would help you. You were wrong, specially if you had a friend like Jotaro, so thorough that he could always read you.

Cautiously entering the room that had been kindly provided to you in his house, you heard Kujo's heavy footsteps approaching you. You tried to wipe your eyes before he saw you, but it was useless. You couldn't lie to him.

"You don't need to hide it." You heard his voice, husky but soft and kind just for you. "At least not from me."

You slowly turned to face him. How did he keep from collapsing? It was impossible for him not to feel anything after all of it, you knew that he also had a giant burden on himself for what had happened, but he seemed so… normal about it. He just kept quiet like before. He used to visit you a few times a day to see how you were doing. You were recovering from your own physical and emotional wounds at his house, to prevent your family from asking about them when you finally come home again.

"I know." You said. His gaze headed to that photograph before his eyes fell on you. You decided to put your eyes on his face too, but this time was different, you could see for a fraction of time the softness of his gestures. It was hurting him just as it did to you. He also wanted to lock up his feelings to avoid explaining himself.

You recognized the similarity that you had in that moment. Could you ever fully heal? Could you forget everything that happened? All that you have lost? Maybe not. There was even the possibility that you would never forget or get over it. But, still, there was a tiny hope for you two.

A little but bright hope.

Your hand slowly reached towards his cheek, afraid of being rejected, but it didn't happen. You could see his eyes closing to await your touch. His skin was cold, perhaps it was the weather in Japan and the strong wind that blew at this time of night. Or even the same reason why your body was freezing too. As if your soul was missing.

"You shouldn't hide it from me either, Jotaro." You whispered, not wanting to push him or his feelings. It would be fine when he was ready. "You've cared so much for me, but have you even given yourself time to grieve what we've lost?"

He didn't expect to hear that. It was as if everything he had built his personality on, his way of being and his tough reputation had really lost its meaning. Your soft and understanding gaze made his heart sink. "It's okay to cry. You told me that the first day, right? Now I'm telling you. It's okay to cry, Jojo. It doesn't make you any less brave or strong."

He didn't say anything. You feared that you made him uncomfortable, and silence filled the room, but before you could apologize, you could see him bite his lip hard. The aquamarine in his eyes had always had a sparkle to them, sometimes determined, sometimes even mischievous, but now they were glistening with moisture building in them.

Your hand left his cheek. Cautiously reaching down, you took his and laced your fingers with his own. You sighed raggedly, it felt like you'd shaken something off of yourself. You thought about not invading his personal space anymore, but those strong arms took you by surprise as they caught you in them. He forced himself not to let out a single sound, not a gasp or ragged breath. Nor was it necessary. You knew he was crying.

You understood his reasons for not displaying his own suffering. If he felt guilty about the deaths of his friends, how would his mother feel? The one for which they risked their lives and unfortunately lost. Holy was a sweet and kind woman, knowing that her son suffered from everything that happened on the trip could affect her. Jotaro wasn't about to let her know.

And yet, now you were able to open the shell that covered him. You once again felt the moist warmth running down your cheeks. Your smaller arms in comparison to his wrapped him with the same love and kindness he had showed to you before. That seemed to break him more. It was a broken whisper that escaped his lips. "I should have done something else, been there and prevent-"

"Don't blame yourself for anything that has happened." You sentenced. They were firm words, but not abrupt. "You are not to blame for anything."

Even in the position they were in, in the middle of a hug and against the difference in height, you were able to tangle your fingers in his hair. You had discovered during the trip that Jotaro liked it a lot, even when he refused between games and laughs that tried to avoid you.

It was funny how you could see through him even when Jotaro confronted your intentions to get closer, maybe it was your impulsive attitude and not wanting to give up that you ended up being his confident. A kind of relationship that was different from his one with Kakyoin or Polnareff. He was able to trust you, fight by your side, laugh, play and spend free time with you. The same thing he did with his friends, but it felt different.

They didn't tickle his heart every time they gave him a smile.

And although, very blindly, he had not realized it before, he had just thought about it. He had a weakness that allowed him to always be flexible and open his heart to you. Crying in front of someone else was something unthinkable for him, but now he had you caged in his arms while you were trying to comfort him.

"I think we should stay together." You said, without even thinking twice. You had to resist the urge to cover your mouth to try to prevent him from hearing you.

It was kinda late.

He heard you.

And even when you thought that you had been a fool with your words, you felt his hand caress your face before lifting a little from you. You were intimidated by the idea of being abandoned when you felt so fragile, but it didn't happen.

His lips rested on your cheek for a second. A show of affection that he did not usually give. And he looked you in the eyes again.

"I think that would be fine..." His words trailed off heavily due to the storm of thoughts he was having. "As long as it's what you want."

Your eyebrows furrowed in uncertainty and your confused eyes wandered anywhere but his face. His hand started to caress your face, it was a feeling you had never felt before with him.

Devotion.

As the time passed between the two of you and your whining talk about how noisy Polnareff was or how nice the places to travel to were, you knew there was more to him than just a handsome face and a rude attitude. Jotaro was one of those people who were strong, he was an intelligent and calm man, but he could be careful and he respected someone's ideals and honor very much. His calculating but somehow carefree personality had captivated you.

You were sure you didn't want to see him suffer anymore. You wanted to be the one to brighten his days and motivate him to continue, as he did with you.

"Do you really mean it?" You asked confused, hoping for some reassurance. "Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close?"

The height gap was something. The tip of his nose rubbed against the bridge of yours. It felt like a need. Like cats, when they try to show affection and reciprocation. And then he planted a chaste kiss on your forehead, before answering you.

"Forever and ever."

That's when you two understood. They had been friends during that trip, never realizing how much the other meant to the other. The idea of losing the other was not in your plans, but it had been that final disaster that finally made you understand.

Finding your best friend after living a life without being understood was good.

Finding your first love without even expecting it was surprising but you could have known during it.

But those words fell far short of this. You two had found your lover. A person you could trust and love, a person with whom you wanted to share dreams and sorrows with. A person with whom you would share a life.

You found a lover in each other.

#jjba x reader #jjba #jjba stardust crusaders #jotaro x reader #jotaro imagine #jjba jotaro #jojo #jotaro x you #jotaro fluff #jotaro kujo #kujo jotaro #jjba part 3

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marierg · 5 months

Text

Biscuits and Beskar: 3

Pairing: Boba Fett x OC Kaylee Manu

Rating: PG-13 (just for the last little tense parts and the action)

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, language, mentions of past traumas, SNAKE!, semi nakedness, naughty-ish thoughts, TENSION. No actual naughtiness or schmexy-ness but lots of thoughts running wild.

A/N: I apologize now, I know I'm not writing very fast but I hope what comes out is worth the wait. I wanted to give these two a few little moments but also I wanted the Pike incursion to be felt. I have given names to a few of the characters we know. The Gamorean guards are Ro and Weem and the Rancor handler is Vol (pronounced Val). Our girl Kaylee grew up on a star cruise liner (think Princess cruise) and I picture her having been around entertainers and dancers a lot as a kid. One of whom I picture as a very young Jimmy Buffet.

PS- Kaylee is a shit magnet (doesn't mean to find trouble, it just seems to find her) and a klutz. Lots of heart and spirit, but lots of boo boos. Lets just say I hope that the Daimyo's insurance is good.

Words: 4700ish

Song credit: Come Monday by the great Jimmy Buffet! (Don't tell me Margaritaville doesn't exist in Star Wars)

Masterlist Next

Tags are open, just drop a line

“PAPA!”

You woke in a cold sweat, hands scrubbing the last of the horrible memory away. You could still see him, hear his last words.

“Free men built this galaxy and free men will have their day again.”

Celsus Manu had died as he lived, bravely standing for what he believed. How many souls had he smuggled on those cruises, how many had Papa saved from a fate worse than death? To be bound to a life of forced servitude until their very spirit extinguished even while their bodies remained.

Nothing could have saved him that day though. The shots ringing in your ears...

Heading down to the kitchen you pulled your robe tight. At each of the dormitory doors you paused to listen, just to be sure the sand scrappers slept well. Turbo was still recovering from the crash to catch that slug majordomo that was sleeping in the dungeon. And it was right where the slemo belonged. It had shaken you to see the boy hurt. The little motley crew was all that you had, and now you could count two hunters to that small group. The Daimyo had done something you couldn't, seeing the kids well cared for, it pleased you beyond words. Starting a kettle you heard Ratty boop and beep as he popped around the corner, following you like a shadow.

There was a balcony just off the hall between the throne room and your domain. It was peaceful there, with not but the wind off the dunes and canyons to break the silence. Sipping your tea there was another sound that came not from the vast wilderness, but the tower above. A shadowy figure moving in smooth, controlled motions. You couldn't help to wonder what specifically caused the Daimyo to be up at this hour?

Then again what wouldn't, given the mess at hand. Finishing your tea you rose, patting the little droid on the head. Glancing again to the tower above you went back to the kitchen and pulled out another mug, “Ratty would you be so kind as to deliver something for me?”

The gaffii's weight was a comfort in his hands as Boba moved about the floor. It was a steadfast and strong weapon, it served him well. The dreams had returned with a vengeance causing many a restless night. Practicing always acted as a bit of a balm. People say that time heals, Boba always thought it a foolish saying. No what healed was not simply time, it was affection, closeness, family. The Tuskins had taken him in, made him part of the tribe. They had given him much needed perspective after years of burying himself in hunting.

Years of running from his past... of ignoring the pain.

Boba was a different man than the one who had been swallowed by the Sarlacc. He had done his job and done it well, hoping to be as good a hunter as his father if not better. Jango had once told him that the more proficient he became the more he could pick and choose the jobs he took, but even Jango wouldn't have been able to avoid the Empire. Those hunts were never satisfying, the quarry rarely worth the price on their head.

Boba's philosophy was much like Jango's; he did the job, he got paid, end of contract. Even still Boba regretted parts of his past. He wondered sometimes what had happened to his daughter, if Ailyn ever thought of him. He had stayed away to keep her safe and maybe that was how it should stay. Hearing a tap at the door his attention shifted. He hadn't send for anyone, “Yes?"

Crossing the floor he opened the portal to find no one, just a tray with a cup of tea and a piece of flimsy. Cautiously picking up the mug Boba read the fine scrawl.

You should get some rest.

Seems he wasn't the only one awake. Taking a sip of the herbal tea he could faintly taste the black melon that was part of the brew. A faint smirk crossed his face. Boba sometimes wondered how you actually felt about him, good or bad. You were ever a puzzle, keeping well behind the curtain of formality yet still doing small kindnesses like this. Something a friend would do for another. Maybe you were waiting for him to seek you out? He hummed at that thought, sipping on the warm decoction. Whatever the case he still felt glad of your presence, even if it was from arms length. “Dral runi.”

“Skad aren't you all supposed to be patrolling?” You looked over the middle counter to where the young man was hovered over his breakfast.

Finishing a bite of hash the scamp nodded at you. “Jus' waiting on Nikita and that Gamorean, Ro, to get back.”

“And here we are,” Nikita strutted in followed by Ro, who grunts at you. The other Gamorean, Weem, was with Drash in the hangar taking a delivery.

Turning to the counter where dishes are drying you gesture to them. “Get some food you two and tell Vol to come eat too.”

Vol never came up until after he had seen to the Rancor. He was a quiet man, said only what was necessary, had a hard edge about him. He was considerate in his own way though, you'd seen him a few times help the kids here and there. But mostly he kept his own company and you respected that. As your thoughts wandered a favorite tune came over the speaker, a smile spread on your face as the old sweet song brought back happier times. Reaching over you raised the volume.

“Oh no,” Skad tried to make a run for it.

“Oh yes.” Grabbing the boy's hand you start to dance and sing. It was something you'd done with Papa in the kitchen growing up. For a moment when you moved across the floor you thought maybe he was there, laughing with you. Most of the kids would dance along when this would happen, knew which songs you loved.

Fennec had gotten back to the Palace when it was still dark, her head buzzing. Whether it was from Fwip's hospitality or the lovely female whose warm bed she had shared was undetermined. What a sweet distraction it had been though. Fennec stepped into the kitchen, an amused chuckle escaping her. You were twirling around and dancing with one of the Gamoreans, looking over to her with a puckish grin. “Don't even think it cookie.”

You rolled your eyes and instead went to the counter to retrieve a Bloody Mary. Handing the drink to the master assassin you continue singing.

“...Come Taungsday it'll be alright. Come Taungsday I'll be holding you tight. I spent four lonely days in a brown Bespin haze and I just want you back by my side.”

Fennec took a sip of the drink and couldn't help smirking at your flirtations. “Sweetheart I would eat you alive.”

“Hmm but what a way to go...” Making a flirting face you swayed your hips to the music.

Bumping hips with Fennec you threw a towel over your shoulder to get back to work. The assassin had a wicked sense of humor you found. A sense of humor that struck in the form of your belt loop getting hooked to pull you to her side. Fennec tutted you like a naughty child, “Ah ah ah, the song's not over cookie.”

She tugged, guiding your movements while holding her drink in the other. You continued to sing and sway as the song hit the last chorus. Fennec tapped her fingers under your chin then stepped away as the final chords rang. You laughed and felt genuinely happy, feeling safe enough to let down your guard. Which was funny if you thought on it... feeling safe in the palace of the Daimyo of Tattoine. Looking at Fennec's smug face you couldn't help but be a little bit of a brat, “Such a tease Mistress Shand.”

Fennec smirked, glancing back at the hallway, “Oh, you have no idea...”

Boba had stepped back where you couldn't see him, still watching you. Observing as you joined his second in command at the table, making notes on your data pad. It annoyed him that Fennec would toy with you like some dancing girl. Walking into the kitchen he saw you look up at him with a small smile.

“Good morning.” Tracking as he moved to sit at the head of the table by Fennec. You take a fortifying breath, kark you were tired. “Omelet with bacon for the Daimyo or just toast and coffee like this one?”

“Careful cookie, remember who's in charge.” Fennec gives you a light warning. There's no real threat behind it, especially with how she saw Boba looking at you. What these two needed was a solid nudge, still now may not be the time. “By the by, Garsa was asking about you.”

“How's she doing?” You ask concerned. Moving to the buffet you started making up plates and readying the omelet pan.

“Just fine, the Sanctuary was booming last night.”

“And I bet Troy was the bartender,” You smirked at her expression as you passed her a plate of hash. “They have a heavy pour and always work race days, better tips.”

Boba watched as you bustled around making his plate. He was used to eating rations and quick meals on the fly, not often indulging in the slow enjoyment of a meal. It was something that he was still not used to. As you placed the plate and utensils down he glanced to where you sat, keeping his tone even, “You're not eating?”

“No.. I'm...” a flush rose in your cheeks as the man looked at you. Something in those eyes that saw too much. Swallowing thickly you tried to find your words again, “I'll eat later.”

“You should eat,” Boba tilted his head, suspecting that you had never returned to your quarters after making his tea. He gave a slight waive of his hand, “Please.”

“Yes Lord Fett,” Grabbing another plate you put an egg on a slice of toast and refilled your Kaf cup. His gaze was on you like a warm summer sun until you took that first bite. Glancing over you saw the man's lips turn up just slightly as he ate his meal. “I hope it's to your liking.”

“Quite good, thank you.” Boba could think of a few things he'd like to consume much better. Still he did not want to startle or distress, you always appeared flustered when he was near. There were more pressing matters that his mind needed to tend to, business always before pleasure. “Did the prisoner receive a meal.”

“Yes Lord Fett.” Rolling your eyes and giving a grunt, your tone was flatly annoyed.

Well that was a first he thought. “You don't much care for the majordomo?”

“Not particularly,” you bit out the words as though you had swallowed a bug.

Boba gave a huff of a laugh at that. So you had a temper.

“Anyone willing to deal with the Pikes is a damn fool,” Lips hovering on your mug you dared look the Daimyo in the eye, “But while also attempting to assassinate the new Daimyo... dead man walking.”

Boba couldn't help give a slight nod at that, even if his pride was a tad hurt. And foolish he had been, so distracted by his dealings with the syndicate so certain of the profits. All while his tribe was massacred by that speeder gang. But that was then, this was now. “At least he was smart enough to give me the information.”

You huffed, mind turning to more immediate concerns. The rotation on security had changed again, but most of all no audiences. “I didn't see anything on the schedule today.”

Boba didn't raise his head to reply, “Nothing worth mention.”

“Is that why you were awake?” You shouldn't poke the bear, you really shouldn't poke the bear.

Boba looked up from his omelet, seeing the softness of your eyes. You were concerned and curious. “Cleaning up messes.”

“Putting out fires,” You kept your tone easy as you pulled up your data pad to show a message from a friend in Mos Eisley. Partly about parts for your speeder and partly about an increase in unfriendly traffic. “Those fin heads are coming Lord Fett.”

Fennec watched you two dance around one another like a pair of tookas. She knew you had an edge to you, most did living on the outer rim. It did amuse her that you were finally relaxing around them enough to let your teeth show. “No need to worry your pretty head Cookie.”

“They're blood thirsty little piranhas.” You well remembered problems with them during the drought years. How ruthless they could be towards people who couldn't pay their protection.

“Yes but they can occasionally be dealt with,” Fennec kept a calm tone, watching you.

“Rather it ended quickly so that people could get back to living. But what do I know,” Tone low and sad you got up and headed to the sink, tone sharper than intended. “Enjoy your breakfast.”

“Cookie...” Fennec sighed taking a last drink. “I'm going to town, comm if you need anything.”

“Fennec, be careful.” You watched as she gave you a nod and left. Your thoughts were dark, grumbling in your throat you scrubbed harder at the last of the dishes. You hadn't meant to be moody, it was not like you at all. “I'm sorry...”

“For what?”

You jumped not realizing he had come up behind you. You were so startled that you dropped a glass. The shards sliced your finger, not badly but enough to be annoying. “Shit.”

“Here,” Boba started the faucet, placing your hand under it. “I didn't mean to...”

“No it's... I should be more careful.” Keeping your head down you weren't sure if you could meet his gaze. “I shouldn't have snapped.”

“I think Fennec will survive,” Boba could see your face flushing as he sprayed some bacta on your hand. His tone turning soft, a rarity, but you seemed to bring that out. “There, doesn't look bad.”

“Thank you,” You tried not to stammer as his hands held yours, strong and larger than your own. Glancing up to meet his gaze you almost froze, “Lord Fett.”

“Boba,” He smirked and raised your hand to his lips, giving a light brush of his lips to your knuckles. “My name is Boba.”

“Boba,” you nodded dumbly as he slowly released your hand.

“Kaylee,” Boba inclined his head to you.

Your heart thundered in your ears. Watching as he gestured for you to sit again. He nodded for you to at least finish your Kaf and so the two of you sat like that for a time. It was companionable, without the need to fill the silence.

Boba waited till you had relaxed again, speaking quietly so not to startle. “The tea last night, you put black melon milk in it.”

“Helps settle the nerves,” you shrugged sipping at your drink and not quite looking at Boba. It was such a short name for a man who cast such a large shadow. “and I didn't want to waste the melon on just my tea.”

Boba hummed at that. “And what is it that keeps you awake Kaylee?”

“Things better left in the past...”

“I over stepped...” then he felt your small hand take his own, just holding it lightly.

“S'alright. My Papa would say that honesty is good for the soul.” You sigh with a sad little smile, “Sometimes memories aren't always pleasant and come when we least want them.”

“He sounds like a wise man.”

Patting his hand you study the inside of your mug, tone a little bitter sweet, “He was.”

Screaming and several squeals rang through the halls of the Palace, causing both of you to jump. Boba got to the throne room first. There was Ro, Weem, and Drash standing next to an ornate wood box on the floor. Nikita stood frozen several steps away, a dune sea asp staring her down. The large serpent baring its fangs at the girl.

“Don't move, be still.” Boba began to approach the viper his helmet display lighting up trying to target the creature. It was just too close, still in range to strike the girl before he could shoot.

“Fuck!” Drash could shoot herself for accepting the damn shipment, it was her fracking fault it should be her. “Nikita it's gonna be ok. I swear it'll be ok.”

Nikita cried silently, tears trailing her cheeks as she tried to remain still.

“Nikita cat, look at me sweetie.” Stars and maker help you, no please don't let this happen. Your heart was in your throat and you wanted to scream. But that wouldn't help any, “'Kita Cat, come on look at me, look at me.”

The young woman glanced at you finally getting her eyes off the snake.

“Good girl, just... you remember what we used to say? When you kids would hide,” you stepped just a bit closer holding out a hand as if to grasp hers, “Far and away we won't be afraid. Just keep your eyes on me.”

“Far and away we won't be afraid. Far and away we won't be afraid...” the girl whispered the words over and over still looking at you.

“Good, keep her calm,” The snake was a message, a very clear one meant for him. Boba knew the asp could kill with its fangs as well as blind and maim by spitting its venom. If he could get the snake to go for him instead the armor would protect him.

“Mama Kay,” the high pitched terror in Nikita's voice ripped you in two, “I don't wanna die.”

“Kark it...” Swallowing hard you got ready to do something really stupid. You had given your word to protect the kids and that was one thing you would not break. Even if their parents were long dead, you had given your word. “Drash get to the drop switch.”

Boba's helmet turned to you, gut dropping to his boots. “What are you...”

Throwing a dish rag at the snake you ran between it and Nikita. The snake hissed furiously and slithered fast as lightning forward to strike at you. “Now Drash!”

“Haar'chak!” The floor went out, sending you to the rancor pit. Boba shot the viper, spraying it with the flame thrower for good measure after. His temper flared, how could you be so foolish? Looking over at Nikita she appeared no worse for wear, Drash had her well in hand. Angrily striding across the room he barked at the Gamoreans, “Clean up this mess! And find out where that came from.”

It was dark, barely any light came down from above. You could hear Drash though, sounding more like the scared girl you had first met and less the confident young woman you knew. “Mama Kay?!”

“I'm alright,” It was a huge lie. Your leg hurt, kark it hurt so bad. It had been a longer drop than you thought and you had heard crunch on landing. This job was getting more and more hazardous to your health. “Ahhhh!”

“Raaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!”

“Oh dank....” looking around the dark beady eyes of the Rancor met your own. The breath froze in your lungs, body throbbing in pain as the ground vibrated with its roar.

The beast uncurled from where it slept coming to a crouch over you. It's lumbering head turning this way and that studying the new visitor. One large clawed hand came to paw roughly at your hurt leg.

“Hrrgg...” You couldn't help grunting in pain, but the large animal didn't move to harm you further, just studying you. It's large head lowering to sniff and snort, drool falling from it's large fangs. Vol had said that Rancors could be quite sweet. Reaching up to stroke the big beasts muzzle, it huffed a high pitched sound and blinked at you. “You... you like that? Ok we can... we can do that.”

“Open the cage.” Boba kept his voice low, striding into the dark space carefully. While he was confident the beast would not harm him, he did not wish to place you in further danger by startling it. He could hear the deep grunts of the Rancor's breathing, but couldn't see you. “Kaylee?”

“Down here,” it came out pained. You continue stroking and cooing at the rancor, trying to keep calm. In all honesty if your leg weren't on fire this would be infinitely enjoyable “Whose the most fearsome rancor? Such a tough looking fella, just a big sweetie aren't you? Yes you are, yes you are! The best boy aren't you.”

Boba crossed his arms over his chest tilting his helmet to the side. He wasn't sure which outweighed the other, his anger at your reckless behavior or the amusement of seeing you treat the Rancor like a massif puppy. “Miss Manu, you are a hazard to yourself.”

“I'm in no position to disagree,” Glancing to the side and giving a weak grimace you could tell the man was steamed, voice turning sheepish, “It was dumb. I know it was dumb. Please don't fire me... Gaaahh!”

The Rancor accidentally brushed your leg again sending pain shooting. Nausea rose in your throat and your breathing came in little gasps. Oh it was definitely broke.

“Alright boy, easy now go to Vol.” Boba patted the beast and directed it to where the handler stood in the corner. The beast whined and lumbered off, giving him a clear look at the damage. Boba scooped you up easily, carrying you silently up the tower. Partially he was silent to let you stew a little, you deserved that a bit for scaring him. A deeper part of him though simply wanted to absorb the feeling of you in his arms again. The way your chest rose and fell as you breathed, the soft curves of your body in his hands. How you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and neck.

“I'm sorry.” He heard you whisper.

You were toast, so freaking toast. Closing your eyes as Boba walked with you up the stairs, head laying in the crook of his neck, tears fell. It had been nice while it lasted, shouldn't have gotten used to it anyway, maybe Garsa would let you moonlight again. At least Nikita was safe and the kids were cared for, Boba would see to them even if you weren't here. All the worst thoughts running through your mind. You didn't realize at first where the big man had placed you down.

“It's going to hurt when this boot comes off,” Boba's temper had eased seeing the tear stains on your cheeks, you wouldn't even look at him just keeping your eyes down. Taking his gloves off and placing them in his helmet to the side, Boba used just the tips of his fingers to raise your head. Your lip quivered and his face softened. Giving you a ghost of a smile he gently stroked your jaw. “Who would make me tea if you left, hmm? Just have to keep you around... though I may have to take away anything sharp from the kitchen.”

Snorting at the joke you let out a shuddering breath, relief flooded your body. Giving him a weak smile and wincing as he eased the boot off. “Thank you, Boba.”

“Lay back mesh'la, this is not going to be pleasant.”

“Pain I'm used too,” A droid came over and scanned you. Boba cut into your pants-leg exposing the area. The droid gave you a shot of medication and with a few quick movements reset the limb. Even with the drugs it hurt like a mother kriffer.

“Fuuuuuck!”

“Here drink this,” Handing you a glass of whiskey he watched as you downed the amber liquid without a flinch. The droid had suggested putting you in the tank, but Boba watched as you shook your head no. He assisted in the removal of your coveralls, you wore simple small clothes beneath. The droid placed bacta wraps on your leg and a splint, finally leaving you be. He couldn't help noticing you relax when it left. “Rest now Kaylee, you're safe here.”

It would be so easy to get lost in those tigers eyes of his, to forget your place. The man was dangerous... very, very dangerous to you. Because you trusted him so readily, believed when he told you it was safe. You had seen too many dancing girls fall for the crime lords, officers and tycoons on the cruiser growing up. Even here in Mos Espa, you knew that it was a fairy tale. As you continued to hold his gaze, your brain had finally registered where it was he had brought you. The silk sheets, the quiet wind off the dunes, the warm spicy scent.

The man had placed you in his own bed.

You should run to your room this instant, broken leg or no. You felt far too much for the man to begin with but now... The seductive feeling of the soft bed beneath you as he gazed down was just too much. The slide of the material against the bared skin of your body, the way you wanted his scent to linger. Stars he had barely touched you to help get your clothes off, but you never wanted his hands to leave.

Oh, there be danger here. Shaking your head you tried to get back to reality, “I should go...”

“No.”

Boba placed a finger to your lips pausing your words and giving you a stern look. His fingers eased down your lips to your neck, watching as you swallowed hard. A faint smile tugged at his lips as his fingers finally came to press against your collar bones to make you lay back. He didn't miss as the goose flesh rose, nor your pupils dilating.

It all made sense to him now. The way you shied away, the nervousness, the little smiles. You liked him, in some small way you felt something for him. Boba relished as part of this puzzle finally fit. He would let you lead this little chase of theirs, because in the end he knew he would win. First things first though, “Rest Kaylee.”

You shivered as he placed the blankets over you, methodical and deliberately keeping eye contact. As his hand slid down the material you took hold of it. He didn't pull away, simply letting you hold his hand. Calluses and scars from a lifetime of work, a strong and even lethal grace to their dexterity. All that you could tell from the touch of his hand. Your tone was a whisper and some small part of you knew you should still run. But your heart had ever been the foolish sort and there was something there in the gruffness, the controlled tone. A sadness in his eyes that called to you. “I'm sorry if I scared you.”

“I don't frighten, cyar'ika.” He tilted his head, such a perceptive little thing. This woman so wise beyond her years. Soft yet strong, and so very sweet. A tough little cookie. He brushed his thumb affectionately over your palm before placing it on your stomach. “Close your eyes Kaylee, sleep.”

“Yes Boba.” The pain medication had been lulling you there already, but it was his deep tenor that made you obey the command. Your last thought before sleep took hold was how nicely your name fell from his lips.

Boba watched you, only for a moment to be sure that you were comfortable. Rangir, who was he trying to fool? He may as well admit that it pleased that hungry part him to see you laying in his bed. Seeing your soft body wrapped in his sheets as a faint smile curved those plush lips. Next time though it would be different, you would be here of your own choosing. Next time you would beg him to stay.

Rising he replaced his gloves and tucked his helmet under his arm. Pausing to glance down on you one more time. “Nuhoy jahaala Kaylee, jate vercopa.”

Translations:

Dral runi- Bright Soul

Cyar'ika- Sweetheart

Mesh'la- Beautiful

Haar'chak- Damn it!

Rangir- To hell with it

Nuhoy jahaala, jate vercopa- Sleep well, good dreams

Tags: @acatalystrising @pickleprickle @daimyosprincess @kimiheartblade

#Biscuits and Beskar #boba fett x oc #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett #the book of boba fett fanfiction #the book of boba fett #star wars tbobf #tbobf #sw tbobf #OC Kaylee Manu #Boba Fett X OC Kaylee Manu

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oookay68 · 1 year

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I Can't Decide

Summary: The incoming war leaves Aemond with two choices: his family or the love of his life? Inspired by the song, 'I Can't Decide' by the Scissor Sisters.

TW: Incest, Toxic Aemond, Possessive Aemond, Death

A/N: It starts off wholesome and then dark and then kinda funny then sad.

WC: 5879

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She was from one of the three remaining Valyrian houses in the world. House Celtigar was often overshadowed by the mighty Targaryen and Velaryon houses. They had no dragons or ships to their name. Just the silver hair and lilac eyes of Old Valyria. Her grandfather Lord Bartimos Celtigar always pushed his family to align with the Targaryens in hopes that one day Claw Isle would have a dragon in their possession. And it worked. On the twelfth day of the third moon, one hundred eight years after Aegon’s Conquest, Lord Celtigar’s son, Clement, married Daena Arryn, daughter of Rodrik Arryn and Daella Targaryen. This gave dear Caspiana just enough Targaryen blood to claim a dragon.

Terrax was his name. He was a blue dragon that came from one of Dreamfyre’s clutches. When the dragon hatched on Caspiana’s fifth name day it was said that her grandfather leaped with joy. Claw Isle finally had a dragon. But his hopes were quickly crushed when her mother died when she was nine. King Viserys wished for the niece of his late wife to come to King’s Landing in order to ensure the child was given a proper Valyrian upbringing. He knew how much his love adored her younger sister and knew that she would have cared for her niece just as much as she cared for Rhaenyra. And so in 119 AC, Caspiana and her dragon left Claw Isle on a ship carrying twenty guards and five dragon keepers.

She was to be Princess Rhaenyra’s ward. Young Caspiana didn’t know her older cousin very well and she feared that the age gap would leave nothing for the two to bond over. But she was wrong. When she arrived the Princess had welcomed her in open arms. After having two sons, Rhaenyra had a feeling that the babe in her belly would also be a boy. The Princess embraced her cousin and whispered, “Welcome home” to the young Celtigar.

Caspiana Celtigar learned and played with the royal children. She and her best friend, Jace often visited their dragons together and dreamed of the future when the beasts would be large enough to ride. Her younger cousin Luke was a gentle soul whom she enjoyed running around the courtyard with and shirking their responsibilities together.

The strong animosity between Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent led Caspiana to stay away from the two Targaryen princes. She always feared making eye contact with the two, especially Aegon. He was the eldest which made her cousins look up to him. They always followed his lead and the trio always found themselves in trouble. Aegon looked down on all of his siblings and cousins, especially Caspiana. She was from an irrelevant house that kept taking advantage of her Targaryen blood. He barely considered her to be one anyway. Aemond always felt bad whenever he heard his brother talk negatively about their sister and cousin. They were girls who did nothing bad to them yet Aegon only called them mean names.

Aemond thought the opposite of his brother. Helaena was their sister. She was beautiful and fun to play with. Yes, she was a little eccentric but he could always overlook her strange obsession with insects and weird poems. He loved his sister and it was wrong for Aegon to speak in such a vulgar way. Caspiana was a true Valyrian. She came from two of the only Valyrian houses left. She spoke the language and her egg hatched. It was enough evidence that she was a Targaryen. He had never really talked to her because every opportunity was always interrupted by one of their cousins or a servant.

But one night changed that. Aemond always read a chapter of a book in the library before bed. If he couldn’t prove himself with a dragon then perhaps he could gather as much knowledge as he could to make his father see him with value.

The sound of falling books startled him from his book and he walked to the source of the ruckus. He found Caspiana on the floor with several dusty books surrounding her. He knelt down to help her pick them up.

“Thank you.” she said timidly. When she saw who helped her she instantly closed her mouth.

“You should be more careful next time.” Aemond said calmly, not intending for her to take it as a scolding comment.

Caspiana bowed her head, “Y-yes Prince Aemond. I am sorry!” She quickly grabbed the book in his hand and made her way to the door.

“Wait! Why don’t you stay and read with me?”

Caspiana feared the Targaryen boys. They had more power over her and could easily get her in trouble. She could be sent home if they wished and she wouldn’t be able to do anything.

“I’m-I’m sorry my prince but it is late and-”

“Then as your prince I demand you to sit and read with me.”

Caspiana relaxed her stiff shoulders in defeat and took the chair by the fire. Aemond took the seat next to her and the two read their books in silence.

It soon became a routine for the Prince and the Lady to read their books by the fire every night before bed. Aemond often spent the time pretending to read and instead studied her face and how the firelight would highlight the bridge of her nose and how it brought out the dark purples of her eyes. He noticed the small freckles around her eyes and how the corner of her mouth twitched up whenever something pleasant happened in the story.

But their nights came to an end when Rhaenyra decided to take her family and her ward to Dragonstone. She was a dragon and would no longer endure the cruel rumors of the court.

Aemond found out about their departure when Caspiana didn’t show up to the library one night. He frantically knocked on her door only to be met with an empty room. He didn’t even get to say goodbye.

But his chance came during the funeral of Laena Velaryon. Caspiana stayed with her cousins and avoided the Greens. She tried not to look in Aemond’s eyes. She had no doubt that he was cross with her for leaving without saying goodbye. It was one of her greatest regrets. The fire felt so cold on Dragonstone and the books seemed to keep going on and on with no interesting moments. She felt lonely without his stare and quickly gave up her nightly ritual of reading before bed.

Aemond thought that she didn’t think he was good enough. Of course he wasn’t. He was the Prince of Westeros and yet he didn’t have a dragon. But on a solitary walk on the beach the sight of the monstrous Vhagar sparked an idea in his mind.

Once he claimed her then Caspiana would see. She would see that he was worthy of her friendship and her hand in marriage. He would fly to Dragonstone on Vhagar’s back if he had to. Take her without Rhaenyra’s blessing and wed her in the Faith of the Seven.

Aemond swaggered back to the castle after the best hour of his life. He finally flew on a dragon for the first time and he claimed the largest and oldest dragon alive. But his good mood was quickly ruined at the sight of the Strong boys and his Uncle Daemon’s kids. His smile dropped when he saw Caspiana with them, holding onto Rhaena’s hand.

It happened so fast. Baela swung first, she wouldn’t take Aemond stealing her dead mother’s dragon and she wouldn’t take his cruel insults. He quickly threw her aside as his nephews charged to attack him. It was a four against one and Aemond found himself on the ground taking their punches and kicks. Caspiana spectated, out of fear. She didn’t want Jace, Luke, Baela, and Rhaena to hate her if she helped Aemond but she wanted to help him.

But Aemond swiftly removed the four from him and grabbed Lucerys by the throat. Caspiana acted quickly and shoved the prince to which he instinctively threw her back onto the stone wall. He would have killed Strong bastards if it weren’t for the sand. The next thing he knew, hot blood and an instant searing pain filled the entirety of his left face.

The incident in the throne room did nothing but feed the flaming hostility between the Queen and the Princess. Rhaenyra defended her sons and her ward while Alicent demanded justice for her son’s eye. But Aemond kept his eyes, no his eye, on Caspiana who tried to cover herself with Rhaenyra’s dress.

Caspiana felt alone. Baela and Rhaena clinged onto their grandparents who hugged them tightly. Jace and Luke hid behind Rhaenyra and Aemond clutched onto his mother’s hand. She had no grandparents to hug or mother to feel protected. Rhaenyra’s priorities were Jace and Luke so Caspiana settled for gripping her warden’s dress.

The Blacks left Driftmark the day after Laenor’s burnt remains were found. They returned to Dragonstone where they raised the Princes Jacerys and Lucerys with the Princess Rhaena and Lady Caspiana. Baela stayed behind as a ward to her grandmother, Rhaenys.

Five years after the Driftmark incident, a letter from King’s Landing arrived. It was written by the Hand of the King, Otto Hightower. It was a marriage proposal for the Lady Celtigar. Now eighteen, she was considered to be too old to be unmarried. Proposals flooded in everyday but Rhaenyra always rejected them on the basis that none were good enough for her ward. But this one was different. The King himself proposed it. He often dreamed about his Aemma and in his dreams she whispered about their daughter and her niece.

Seeing it as a King’s order, Caspiana accepted and flew to King’s Landing where she would wed Prince Aemond Targaryen. It was with regret that Rhaenyra and her family could not attend the joyous occasion. In truth, Rhaenyra did not want to see what she thought would be a miserable pairing. She wanted better for her little cousins but she could not deny the dying King’s request. Caspiana understood and assured Rhaenyra that she would be okay. That she would learn to love the One-Eyed Prince.

And she was right. Upon meeting him after five years the two felt their spark reignite. Aemond disregarded the role she played on the night he lost his eye and the two fell in love. They resumed their nightly ritual of reading by the fire before bed and added a kiss every night before they departed. The wedding was festive and filled with lots of dancing and drinking. It was perhaps the first time that Alicent saw her son truly happy since he lost his eye. Even Helaena appeared to be having fun. She danced with Caspiana and the twins, Jahaerys and Jahaera, and even convinced Aegon to leave his wine cup for two minutes.

It came to no one’s surprise that the Lady Caspiana was with child four months after their wedding. As she grew larger the maesters confined her to the bed. She no longer made appearances at court and spent most of the day in her nightgown. She felt lazy and ugly for doing nothing the last few months of her pregnancy but Aemond assured her every night that she still looked as beautiful as she had when he fell in love with her.

The birth was painful and long. Two agonizing days of labor gave the happy couple a beautiful girl whom they named Daella, after the baby’s great grandmother.

But every good thing came to an end. Two weeks after birth, Princess Daella passed. It was said that the wail Lady Caspiana gave after discovering her child’s corpse was heard throughout the city. One more pregnancy but Caspiana never gave birth. She felt lonely and depressed. Only Aemond could make her smile. She truly loved him with all of her being.

The arrival of Rhaenyra and her family to defend Lucerys’s claim to Driftmark greatly lifted her mood. Caspiana was seen roaming the halls of the Red Keep once again and stayed by her cousin Rhaenyra’s side. It seemed cruel. Her cousin was blessed with fertility with five children and a sixth on the way while it was rumored the Caspiana’s womb was cursed. But the company of her cousin distracted her from her barren womb and she felt like a child once more with her cousins.

The family dinner started off tense but eased after several reconciling toasts were made. Caspiana held the hand of Aemond as she listened to the speech Jace made, praising his uncles and wishing for a happy future. Things were going swimmingly until the roasted pig was brought out. Memories of The Pink Dread filled Aemond’s head and a faint snickering led him to slam the table, raising his cup.

“Final tribute. To the health of my nephews Jace, Luke, and Joff.” Caspiana tapped his leg, signaling him to behave. But he ignored his wife, “Each of them handsome, wise, hm Strong.”

“Aemond.” his mother warned.

“Come, let us drain our cups to these three Strong boys.”

“I dare you to say that again!” Jace challenged.

The night ended with a fight and Caspiana giving him the cold shoulder. She stayed silent as she dressed in her nightgown and crawled into bed. Not one to be ignored, Aemond ignored her too, knowing that his silence would lead his wife to give up hers.

“You’re an ass, you know that?” Caspiana broke the silence.

Aemond smiled and gave his wife a kiss on the cheek to which she squirmed away, “I love you.” He reached for another but she crawled out of the bed.

“I’m being serious! This was a chance at reconciliation. It doesn’t have to be this bitter all the time.”

Aemond sighed, “My love that will never happen. If I didn’t say anything then someone would have tomorrow, or the day after that, or the day after that. We are fated to always war with each other.”

“How do you think that makes me feel? To have the people I grew up with, Rhaenyra is practically my mother. Jace and Luke are my brothers and you are my love. I cannot choose a side in your silly war.”

Aemond lifted the blanket and opened his arms, “If I promise to apologize to them in the morning will you come back to bed?”

Caspiana remained standing with her arms crossed, “You should want to apologize to them because you know that it was wrong to question their legitimacy.”

“Fine. I want to apologize to them because it was wrong of me to question their legitimacy.” But his words were empty. Caspiana relented and crawled into the bed.

The next morning Caspiana bid Rhaenyra and her cousins goodbye while Aemond checked on his sister and her children. His eye widened when he saw his frantic mother sitting with his sister. He felt the castle feel more solemn than normal and the angry footsteps of his grandfather confirmed his suspicions. King Viserys was dead.

Caspiana quickly returned to her room after bidding her family goodbye. She left her embroidery needle by her bedside table and grabbed it. She felt like working in the godswood today. But she panicked when she realized that the door was locked from the outside. She tried it again but it did not budge.

“Help!” she pounded. “I’m locked inside help!”

Her pleas were left unanswered for hours until the door unlocked and Aemond entered. She rushed into his arms and kissed him. “What has happened?” She sensed his stress and sat him down by the fire.

“Father is dead.”

Caspiana’s eyes widened and she covered her mouth. “No. He can’t be.”

“We always knew that this day would come. We just never realized it until it happened.”

“Is Rhaenyra here then? Surely they would have let her know before she returned to Dragonstone.” Aemond stayed silent. “Rhaenyra knows right? She has to be here they must crown her as soon as possible-”

“We have a new king.” Aemond answered coldly.

Caspiana looked at him with horror, “What do you mean?” Her eyes widened even more at the realization of his words. “You can’t! Aegon isn’t the heir! Viserys-”

“Is dead. Aegon is the heir, he always has been.”

Caspiana shook her head, “No, Viserys declared her as his heir. Rhaenyra is the queen-”

Aemond stood and grabbed his wife’s shoulders, “Listen to me! Aegon is the King, his coronation is today and we will witness it along with thousands of the townspeople.”

Caspiana started to tear, “You! Stop it! You’re usurping the throne! Is this because of Alicent? That Green bit-”

Aemond did it before he realized what he was thinking. His hand swiftly slapped Caspiana’s cheek. It was always an instinct to defend his mother from all who would speak ill of her. After being his only support after losing his eye he grew fiercely loyal to her.

Caspiana’s tears flowed as she touched her cheek.

“My love I’m-I’m sorry I-”

She grabbed the knife attached to his belt, “Come any closer and I will cut your eye!”

Aemond held his hands out cautiously, “Okay. I promise I won’t touch you again.”

Caspiana pointed toward the door, “Let me out!”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“I hold the knife! Let me out now!”

Aemond quickly disarmed her and threw the knife across the room. “Your maids will come soon. The coronation is tonight at the Dragon Pit.”

“No!” Caspiana shoved him into the wall, “I will not bend the knee to your traitorous brother!”

Aemond flipped their positions and trapped her between his arms and the wall. “You will. As your lord husband I command you to.”

Caspiana spit in his good eye and he flinched.

“You can’t make me!”

“If you refuse to then I will order Vhagar to tear Terrax apart in front of you!”

Caspiana looked at him with hate in her eyes. Something that he thought he would never see. “You wouldn’t.”

“Don’t test me.”

The two were interrupted by a knock on the door. Aemond allowed Caspiana’s handmaidens to enter and left the room. A carriage brought the two to the Dragon Pit and she stayed silent despite his pathetic attempts to make conversation. He even asked her if she was wearing a new dress but she just coughed.

The crowning of Aegon was quick and the crowd cheered for their new king. But the moment was interrupted when the Red Queen Meleys crashed through the floor, crushing and killing hundreds of viewers. On top of the dragon sat Princess Rhaenys who donned her full battle armor.

Caspiana braced herself for the dragon’s hot breath. No doubt that Rhaenys would tell Rhaenyra of her presence on the platform. Caspiana would die with Rhaenyra thinking that she was a traitor. Aemond cradled her head to his chest, forcing her look away from the dragon while he stared at his distant cousin atop the beast.

Instead of a hot death, the dragon roared. Caspiana kept her eyes closed the entire time. Only after Meleys and Rhaenys left did she realize that she was still alive.

That night Aemond and Caspiana laid in each other's arms in silence. Her heart still raced from the previous events and it felt like ten days had passed. He stroked his thumb on her arm and pressed a kiss onto her head.

“We nearly died today.” Caspiana croaked out.

Aemond shushed his wife and held her tighter, “But we are alive my dear. This is the brutality of my sister. She and the Blacks will stop at nothing to murder us, the Greens. You my love are a Green whether you acknowledge it or not.”

“But Rhaenys did not kill us.” She placed her hand on his chest, “Our hearts are still beating.”

“Yes we are. Rhaenys very well may have ignited this war with the murder of the innocent townspeople. What do you think will happen when we encounter her or Daemon next? Do you think that he will show you any mercy when you meet him? He will not care that you were Rhaenyra’s daughter.”

Caspiana stayed silent as she stared at his sapphire eye.

“My love you must know that there is nothing you can do that will convince Rhaenyra that you are anything but a traitor. So please, truly bend the knee to Aegon and you will have the protection of the one true crown.”

Caspiana stayed silent for a long time. Aemond thought that she fell asleep and tugged on her hair to make sure that she was awake.

“Alright.” she answered. “I will bend the knee.”

She did good on her word and bent the knee to Aegon the next day. She had no time to spend with Aemond for he kissed her goodbye and left for Storm’s End, the ancestral seat of House Baratheon to gather their loyalty with the promise of a marriage pact between one of Lord Borros’s daughters and his brother Prince Daeron who resided in Oldtown at the moment.

The next day the Green Council decided to put their faith in Aemond’s wife. Caspiana mounted Terrax with the mission of gaining House Celtigar’s fealty to King Aegon. A mission that she had no intention of fulfilling.

Terrax took off to Claw Isle. The shortest way was to cut through Dragonstone to cut through the Blackwater Bay which Caspiana was specifically warned not to take. Once out of sight from the highest tower in King’s Landing, she made a detour to Dragonstone. But in order to arrive at Dragonstone she had to cut through the sea that stood between Storm’s End and Dragonstone.

It was unfortunate that a terrible storm stood in her way and Caspiana struggled to guide Terrax as they dodged lightning while rain pelted down on them. The shriek of a dragon caused her to nearly fall off her saddle. Against her rational thoughts, Caspiana investigated and found a petrified Luke and frantic Arrax who flapped his wings rapidly.

“Luke!” she yelled.

“Cassie!” he exclaimed, slight relief in his voice. “Help me! It’s Aemond!”

“What?” Before Luke could answer, the menacing form of Vhagar dwarfed the two. “Holy fuck! Get under me!” Luke obeyed and drove Arrax to fly close underneath Arrax.

Caspiana flew up to meet her husband whose eye widened at the sight of his wife. “Caspiana!” It was one of the few moments when he called her by her name.

“Stop this at once, Aemond!”

He snarled, “Get out of my way Caspiana, I won’t ask you twice.”

“What have you become my husband? Turn around now and return to King’s Landing.” Terrax flapped his wings rapidly, fearing Vhagar’s presence.

Vhagar knocked the blue dragon to the side, leaving Caspiana barely hanging onto her dragon as he gained his balance. The larger dragon continued on as Arrax took refuge in the small crevice between two adjacent islands. Caspiana followed her husband but it was no use, her dragon couldn’t keep up with the larger.

“You owe a debt!” Aemond taunted in Valyrian. “Boy!”

Knowing that her smaller beast wouldn’t have an effect on the larger, Terrax released a stream of fire onto Vhagar. It did what she intended, perhaps a little too much. Vhagar turned away from Luke and his dragon, allowing them to escape and fly back to Dragonstone.

The she-dragon opened her jaws which Terrax avoided. The blue beast was small yet fierce. He clawed the elder’s neck prompting her to release a cry louder than the thunder. Vhagar released a jet of hot flames onto the smaller and Caspiana yelped as her left sleeve caught on fire. She patted the flames out and prayed that there were no burns on her skin.

“No! Vhagar!” Aemond scolded. “Serve me!”

The dragon ignored him and continued to pursue Caspiana. “Aemond!” she cried out in fear when Vhagar nearly bit Terrax’s neck. An injury that was sure to have been fatal.

Terrax retaliated with his claws and slashed at the elder’s eye. Vhagar was a fierce war dragon but also grew slow with age. She shrieked out in pain. She would never see in her right eye again.

The pain spurred Vhagar on, completely disregarding Aemond, she flapped her wings harder and opened her jaws. They closed on the lower region of Terrax and she bit clean through.

Caspiana could only watch in horror as her dragon started to tumble down. He screamed in pain as the two hit rocky cliffs but shielded his rider from the damage as much as possible. They landed on sand and Caspiana was flung onto the ground from the impact.

Vhagar angrily landed and Aemond commanded her to stay put. After seeing Caspiana slowly stand his relief at seeing her alive quickly transitioned into fury.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” he yelled. He pulled her arm to make her stand. “Why were you even there?”

Caspiana pulled her hand from his grip, “Your mother sent me to Claw Isle to gather their support!”

Aemond scoffed, “Do you take me for a fool? If you truly intended to carry out your orders you would have gone by land, far from the sight of Dragonstone. You intended to be caught!”

“No I did not! I flew above Rosby when I heard your dragons call and went to investigate!”

“You’ve always been a horrible liar.” Aemond looked at Terrax whose eyes were slowly blinking, trying to regain consciousness. He turned to Vhagar and gave the command to kill. A death blow now would be merciful.

“No!” Caspiana cried. She gripped Aemond’s coat and fell to her knees. “Please! Please don’t kill him! Please!”

Aemond smirked, “Death is merciful to your dragon who will die in several days' time.”

Caspiana shut her eyes as Terrax’s painful screams filled the air. She sobbed into Aemond’s coat and he took his last breath before releasing one long stream of fire then dropping for the final time.

Aemond grabbed her hair, “Do you see what I can do wife? I hold the power here and you must obey me.”

“Or what? You’ll feed me to Vhagar? Then do it already because I won’t be obeying you in the future so you might as well kill me now!”

Aemond felt no pity for her. “Perhaps I shall. But as your merciful husband who loves you, I will give you a chance at redemption.” He spoke no more and she heard no more as he hit her head with the hilt of his sword, rendering her unconscious.

Caspiana woke up in a hot cell on the filthy floor. The cells adjacent were filled with noble men and women alike. She sat up and crawled to the bars, noticing that she was alone in her cell.

“Lord Caswell!” She called when she recognized him.

“Oh, my dear you too?” he said. “They’ve starved us for three days, and only gave us enough water to keep us barely alive.” he spoke slowly and quietly.

“Why?”

“They want us to bend to the knee. But Rhaenyra is the true heir.” he answered.

Caspiana figured that was something that Aemond was trying with her. She already broke one oath. The break another would make her an enemy to the people of Westeros for there was nothing worse than an oathbreaker.

Aemond sat in his shared chambers quietly in thought. While he definitely felt like killing her, he couldn’t. She was his wife and he would then be known as a kinslayer. What was worse than being known as a kinslayer? Not only a kinslayer but an oathbreaker. He would break his oath to protect her at their wedding.

Surely she would be nearly dead by the time her three days were up. She would embrace him and tell him that she loved him and that her loyalty was to him. Not to Aegon and not to Rhaenyra but he who should be the king.

But then again, he didn’t suspect her to betray him like that after she had bent the knee to Aegon and vowed to protect the crown. She went back on her word and intended to fly to Dragonstone before Aemond caught her.

But she said that she loved him. He didn’t question her love for him and never did but he couldn’t help but think of her motives. Perhaps she felt inadequate as a cousin of Rhaenyra. With her mother dying at a young age she was desperate to have a mother figure in her life and that was Rhaenyra. But his sister had her own children to worry about. She had no time to be a mother to Caspiana while having children and loving the others. There was simply not enough love in Rhaenyra’s heart for Caspiana. Yes, that must have been it. She thought that she could still get Rhaenyra’s approval and love if she betrayed her husband, the one she loved the most.

Aemond practically leapt from his chair and raced down to the dungeons. It was the middle of the night but the night shift servants watched as the prince skipped giddily down towards the lower floors.

He reached the dungeons and opened the door to Caspiana’s cell. She sat with her back on the wall and opened her eyes to find Aemond standing above her. He smiled and kissed her forehead.

“I love you.” he planted a kiss on her mouth.

Instead of welcoming him in her arms, Caspiana recoiled and pushed him away, “Is that why you killed my dragon and imprisoned me in this filthy cell?”

Aemond grabbed her hand and ignored the nobles in the neighboring cell who watched the two as if it was a dramatic play. “My love, you must have suffered greatly growing up as Rhaenyra’s ward. Always second best to her children and never deserving of her love. But it is okay. You do not need her love. You will grow to accept that just as I had with my father.”

Caspiana pulled her hand away from his, “Are you serious? Rhaenyra treated me as if I were her daughter. I was put on the same pedestal as Jace and Luke. What are you talking about?”

As if suddenly aware of all the eyes on them, Aemond turned to give a nasty look at the nobles who were too tired to be frightened. “Don’t do this to me, don’t betray me like that again!”

“Again? What do you mean again?”

Aemond ignored her question and continued, “Aegon wants you dead. He wants to make an example of you. To let everyone know that any traitors will not be spared. Even if she is married to the prince.”

“The second son. The spare.” Caspiana spat.

Aemond grabbed her jaw and tightened his grip. “Things were so lovely before Rhaenyra came along.” He let go of her and angrily stomped out of the cell.

To rub salt into the wound, Aegon declared that if Caspiana did not swear fealty to him within five days time, then Aemond would be forced to execute her. “I’ll let you choose how she dies. Just be creative brother.” He said cheerfully.

Aemond now felt the immense pressure to not only convince his wife to swear her vows to Aegon once more and to come up with a creative way to kill her that would please his brother. Would he drown her in the murky waters of Blackwater Bay? Poison her last meal? What was he thinking? Killing his wife? Who would he be without her? She was his everything and if he was the one to take it away then he had nothing to live for. He could bury her alive. That was a creative way that Aegon would surely enjoy. But he would complain that he would not be able to see the life leave her eyes. And there was a possibility that she could escape and come back to enact her revenge on her lord husband as he slept.

Aemond couldn’t decide whether she should live or die.

But he couldn’t deny the toll that this decision inflicted upon him. He felt weaker and found it difficult to carry out his duties. He rarely left his room and left Ser Criston alone in the courtyard, waiting for the prince to arrive to train. Aemond looked at his sword in disgust at the thought of using it on his wife. Was this who he was? His dead heart, cold and petrified, filled with so much hate that he would choose his revenge on his nephew over his wife’s life?

After five days Caspiana had not sworn anything. Aegon even gave her an extra day to think about her decision but she was so hungry that she had no energy to think and spent the majority of the day sleeping. The nobles in the adjacent cells were already executed, publicly hanged for their treasons against the Crown.

Aemond made peace with the fact that Caspiana would not live much longer. He cradled her head in his lap as he allowed himself to cry. One of the few moments he did so since he lost his eye and was forced to grow up. He stroked her hair softly and she opened her eyes weakly.

She managed to muster a smile, too weak to feel any anger toward him. Only love filled her body. “My love.” she whispered.

Aemond’s tear dropped onto her cheek and he wiped it off. “You will go to heaven my dear. With our babies. Our little Daella and our son Aenar.”

“Aenar? We have a boy?” she asked in happy disbelief.

“Yes, my love. And you will meet him soon. I envy you for that.”

“Where am I going? Can’t you come with me?” she smiled.

Aemond shook his head, “I’m sorry my stars, I cannot.”

“But why?” she started to cry.

Aemond wiped her tears with his thumb. “I have my duties here. But as soon as I finish them I promise. You will go to the better place first and enjoy your time there so do not cry beautiful.”

“Am I still beautiful? Even though I’m crying right now?” she asked.

Aemond nodded, “The most beautiful I’ve ever seen. The most beautiful in all of the lands.”

“Even Essos?”

“Especially Essos.”

Caspiana sighed, “That’s good.” The two stayed silent before she broke it once more, “I think I see them Aemond. Our Daella and Aenar. My mother is there too! And Aunt Aemma!”

Aemond allowed his tears to flow freely. “Good, my love. Go to them, I will see you soon.”

Caspiana mustered a weak nod and closed her eyes, “I will see you soon, Aemond.”

He sniffled as tears crawled down his face uncontrollably. “I love you.” But he received no response. And it was announced the very next day that Caspiana Celtigar Targaryen was executed on charges of treason against the Crown.

When Rhaenyra heard of her daughter’s death she collapsed to the ground and wailed for her lost daughter that never was.

A/N: Please let me know your thoughts this is my first tumblr fic!

#hotd aemond #aemond imagine #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen x oc #rhaenyra targaryen #dark!aemond targaryen #dark!aemond #possessive!aemond #asoif

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byunbhyunz · 9 months

Text

Hold Me Down

Pairing: Doyoung/Reader

Genre: fluff, runningawayfromresponsibilities!Doyoung

Word count:

Inspiration: Halsey – Hold Me Down

Part 6 of the Badlands Series

Running away was never the kind of thing Doyoung would do. Not until his responsibilities started to eat him alive, and the only thing on his mind was a night free from anything and everything.

“But it’s the devil that’s tryna Hold me down, hold me down Sneaking out the back door, Make no sound”

Driving around after sunset wasn’t unusual for you. Most of the time you found yourself hopping into your car before you could think of anything else, and drove until you felt sleepy enough to finally go to bed.

Insomnia was a nasty little thing like that. It made falling asleep hard, sometimes you couldn’t even sleep for a day or two, and you would be like a zombie at work.

It only started after your brother’s death. A car crash with him dying and two other people severely injured. You drove around for the memory of him. You drove around, because he wanted to see the world and with your limited resources you could only discover the secret places of Seoul. You looked for tourist hotspots, famous historical places, hidden restaurants and cafes, really anything that caught your eye. Sometimes you would wander around on foot, but driving was the best. It silenced your mind and you could imagine your brother sitting on the passenger seat, joking around, eager to go to places.

Some places you knew by heart, visiting them again and again.

Tonight wasn’t any different. You planned to go to the City Wall, looking around the Namdaemun market, buying something delicious to eat, then go and look at the Namdaemun Gate while eating.

Soft wind caressed your face as you rolled the windows down and stopped at a red light. You half-heartedly listened to the song playing on the radio; an old ballad about love. The lyrics went unnoticed by your mind, but the soulful melody made your heart clench in pain. It made you remember your parents’ face after the burial of your brother. It was the only time you saw your father cry.

Movement caught your eye. On the pavement, a young man around your age was running. He had a desperate look on his face, like he was running from something, but you didn’t see anything chasing him. Maybe he had this funny way for exercising. Only, he wasn’t wearing clothes made for running and it seemed like he was running straight to your car.

With a lump settling in your throat, you considered rolling the windows back up, but decided against it. Sure, he wasn’t running to a stranger’s car at night. You still activated the safety lock. Who knows, Seoul was just like any city at night: with the wrong step you could be in danger.

And oh, boy, you were wrong! The guy ran right up to you, popping his head in above the window, and said:

“Please, take me somewhere, anywhere before they find out I ran away!”

Not even in the future could you explain what made you unlock the car, and let him climb in. Maybe it was the haunted look in his eyes or how he was breathing heavily.

So you let him get in just in time for the red light changing to green. He fastened the seat belt without you having to asking him, which was a bonus point in your mind. He looked unharmed and didn’t seem like he would attack you in any moment.

You let out the air stuck in your lungs, and cleared your throat.

“So, do you have anywhere specific in your mind?” you asked after a long silence.

You were still driving in the direction of the Namdaemun Gate, the stranger’s presence not diverting you from your original plans.

“It doesn’t matter where you take me. I just need time to clear my mind.” You glanced at him for a moment, and he was scrunching his nose as if he just remembered something important. “I can pay you for the gas and the trouble, of course. Or you can drop me off…”

You interrupted him with a small smile.

“Are you wearing comfortable shoes?”

“Yes. What for?”

“Walking. ‘Cause I might just know the perfect place to turn your mind off for a few hours, if that’s what you want.”

He hummed in agreement as you made a left turn. You still had time before you would get to the gate. He didn’t ask where you were going and you didn’t tell him.

Despite a stranger sitting in your passenger seat, you were still calm and collected, as if you were alone. Not to say you were not aware of him. God, you were more than aware. Every few minutes you looked at him from the corner of your eye. He had dark hair, strands of it falling onto his forehead. Combined with dark, alluring eyes and lips that seemed to be constantly pouting.

“May I?” He asked, and pointed at the radio. You nodded.

Another red light. Looking at your surroundings, you realized you were getting closer to your destination.

The man next to you kept switching between stations, until he found a song he was satisfied with. It was a Beatles song, one your mother listened to a lot when you were younger. You hummed with the singer, never really singing along.

“My name is Doyoung, by the way. I mean… I just realized how weird this situation is.” He sounded defeated and apologetic. You heard his clothes rubbing against the seat, probably moving around a little. “I can’t believe I jumped into a stranger’s car. I’m gonna be in so much trouble.”

“And I have let a stranger get into my car. Worst case scenario: you kill me and we’ll be on the morning news.”

He softly laughed at that. You took a moment to enjoy the sound.

“What’s your name?”

“You can call me Jude,” you told him. If he recognized your obvious lie with ‘Hey Jude’ still playing on the radio, he didn’t mention it. “There, we are not strangers anymore.”

Arriving to your destination, you made a little sound effect as you waved your hand around.

“And we are here.”

“Really? Namdaemun market?” He asked skeptically, and you shrugged your shoulders.

“And the gate. I originally planned to buy some food and drink, go to the gate and have a nice meal. It’s much more relaxing than you would think.”

Getting out of the car, Doyoung followed suit. You watched him pull a mask out from his pocket, putting it on carefully. He noticed the curious look you gave him.

“People might recognize me.”

“Are you an influencer or something?” Your question made him laugh, the sound rich and low, but a little muffled by the fabrics against his mouth.

“Or something.”

Your curiosity haven’t got fulfilled with his answer, but you didn’t pry further. Despite your words, you were just two strangers sharing some time of calmness together.

You still watched his face, trying to will your mind to remember where you could have seen him, but came up with nothing. The dark hair and eyes could belong to any citizen of Seoul, only his clear skin and clothes whispered something about wealth to you. Maybe he was a son of a politician. It would explain his words of getting into trouble for jumping into a stranger’s car in the middle of the night.

Despite the time, the Namdaemun market was buzzing with life. Bright lights lead your way through the stalls of vendors. It looked more like a shopping street rather than a market, but you enjoyed spending time here. Some vendors recognized you, because you usually bought your food from them. You really liked the stalls with the old vibe, where you could know your money was going for a family business rather than a big company.

You lead Doyoung around the market carefully, letting him look around and sometimes stop for window-shopping. He never asked to go here or there, but you always noticed when he stopped in his tracks behind you. Thinking about how he wanted to protect his identity even here, your eyes automatically scanned the crowd for people with recognition on their faces, but you didn’t find anything suspicious. No one here cared about who you were.

At last, you reached your favorite place. It was a little hole in the wall shop with the most delicious tteokbokki. And it was a plus that the old couple running the restaurant were kind people, who liked to give you free drinks, very insistent about not letting you pay for them. You usually left a big enough tip to make up for the drinks anyway.

“Ah, my sweet girl! Good to see you again! Do you want the usual?” Upon your nod, the owner turned to Doyoung. “And what about your partner? A simple, mild tteokbokki will do for you, too?”

“I would like it spicy. Thank you, mister!”

“I’ll make it immediately. My old Yoona will be with you in a moment. She just made a fresh batch of coffee, too.” He gave you a wink, then went to the back and called for his wife.

“It’s cozy.” Looking around, Doyoung hummed in satisfaction, then his attention was on the menu, written on a little black board above the counter. “But I don’t see any coffee mentioned. Only water, juices and soju.”

“I come here often,” you said it like it would explain the under-the-counter coffee. In reality, you couldn’t explain it well without sounding too cheesy.

The old couple, Yoona and Minsu became fond of you along your many visits here. Some nights, you wouldn’t even go to the City Wall, just sitting here and eating tteokbokki was enough to make your soul calm down. They were the first people you talked to about your true feelings regarding the loss of your brother. They listened with open hearts, while their handmade food filled you with warmth. They gave you coffee or chocolate milk and you brought them small gifts on occasions.

They liked to show you pictures of their grandchildren, keeping you up to date about their lives as well. You also enjoyed listening to their stories and little arguments that ended up in Minsu calling his wife “my fierce, old Yoona”.

Looking at them, you sometimes believed that true, lasting love existed.

“Oh, my! Our girl brought a boy with her!” And here she was. The starter of the couple’s arguments, Yoona. She liked to tease the customers, especially you, but her heart was made of gold, you were sure of it.

“Miss Yoona!” Her name left your lips in a whine, a pout already forming on your lips. Regardless, you took a seat at the counter, instead of at the tables. She had two mugs in her hands. His husband must have told her you didn’t come alone for once.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You are young. When’s better time to live your life as you wish?” You shyly glanced at Doyoung as he sat down on another stool next to you. The mask helped to cover his expression, but you saw a light red tint painting the top of his ears.

“Are you going to the wall again? Or planning to stay here?” Your lack of response from earlier didn’t scare her, she was more than aware how she made you embarrassed for a moment. Maybe even enjoyed it a little, too. She sat the two mugs down in front of you, slipping milk and sugar along with it.

“We aren’t staying this time. Just grabbing your husband’s famous tteokbokki, then go for the wall.”

“Don’t tell him that. He will brag about it for days if he hears you calling it famous,” Yoona said in a hushed tone, leaning closer to you over the counter. Doyoung chuckled at that a little, putting two sugars and a little milk in his coffee. Watching him pull his mask down to drink made you wonder about his identity again, but your mind came up with nothing. Again. Maybe you should look him up on the internet later.

You drowned your coffee in milk with little to no sugar, and sighed contentedly after the first sip. It smelled earthy and tasted divine.

Yoona went to the back and returned with your orders. They were a more than generous amount and carefully packaged. You payed and thanked them for everything, leaving a tip like usual. Doyoung watched you with curious eyes, but haven’t said a word until you left.

“Are you relatives?”

“No. I told you, I come here often. They are always treating me nicely. Just some really kind people.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. But how could you tell someone you just met that an old couple from the market knew about the deepest parts of your heart? How could you tell him that you lost your brother and was struggling with grief, that Yoona and Minsu seemed to be the only people to understand your pain? You couldn’t, so you just kept it to yourself, not even talking about it with your parents. Sometimes, you visited them more than your own parents.

“So, we are really going to climb up the wall?” He pulled you out of your thoughts.

A half smile played on Doyoung’s lips before he hid it behind his mask. He was holding your tteokbokkis, insistent on carrying them after you payed for it.

“That’s the plan, kinda. Except it’s not open at night, so we can’t really climb it. If you’re not up for it, we can go back. I take you back whenever you want.”

“No. I like the idea.”

“Good.”

Walking in silence, you wandered around the thickening crowd. Nearing midnight, more vendors came out, also locals and tourists started to flood the streets. Fearing of getting lost in the sea of people, you quietly grabbed the seam of his jacket’s sleeve with two fingers. Doyoung halted for a moment, dark eyes meeting yours. You could see in them that he was smiling, then continued to navigate around.

Time after time you muttered a few words to take a turn here or there, and about an hour later you were out of the market.

The Namdaemun Gate could be seen from afar, but it almost got lost around the modern buildings, all of them larger than this piece of history. It was lit up with lights, towering beautifully and anciently.

Doyoung’s eyes widened a little, and you smiled to yourself. He could definitely understand now why you liked to come here.

“I’ve never been here at night. It looks…”

“Old?”

“Wonderful.”

You found a little place to sit down across the street from the gate. Once everything was in place, Doyoung handed you one of the tteokbokkis and chopsticks.

“What are you running from, Doyoung?” You broke the silence with your out of place question, fidgeting with your chopstick before taking the first bite. The rice cakes were soggy and the sauce was a little spicy, just how you liked it.

From the corner of your eyes, you saw him following your movements, chewing sounds filling the night. It was like a little bubble of comfort formed around you, only filled with small noises and the contentment from eating a delicious meal. You were almost too scared to pop it, but your curiosity took the best of you. You pried further, wanting to understand why a men like him would run away from his life even for a night without looking back. Maybe he had a heavy weight on his soul, just like you.

“You know, sometimes it’s easier to pour our heart out to a stranger than a friend. Talking about our problems… It might not solve it, but it helps. And we probably won’t meet again after tonight.”

“You said it yourself: we are not strangers anymore.”

“Then a one-night-companionship.”

“I don’t think there is a word like that.”

“There is now.”

The food disappeared fast. You didn’t even knew you were that hungry, until you started to eat. You let Doyoung think about your offer. You might have seemed a little pushy, but you had nothing to lose or gain from listening to his story and struggles.

Setting aside the leftovers from your meal, Doyoung sighed, and said:

“You might be right. But beforehand, you have to promise to never tell anyone about what I will tell you. I don’t want to see it back on news tabloids.”

“And I don’t want to break down your confidence, but I honestly have no idea who you are. I only know your first name and that you ran away from home.”

He smiled sadly at that. You noticed how he didn’t pull his mask back up.

“I’m an idol in a boy group. We are quite popular domestically and inernationally.”

An idol. Thinking that he was an influencer or the son of a politician seemed ridiculous now.

Doyoung was dissecting your expression, and when he didn’t find anything he disliked in it, he went on.

“We have a lot of members… and a really tight schedule. I have an older brother, but I was always taking care of him, so I like to do the same with my dongsaengs. They can be a handful, but they are good kids, really. Lately, it’s just getting too much. I have to show a perfect image to our fans, a good example for my dongsaengs, while barely sleeping. My life became monotonous, and it just peaked tonight. One of my members broke something precious to me, and I suddenly had this unnerving feeling that if I don’t get away from the dorm right away, I might… I don’t really know what I might have done. It was too overwhelming.”

“I understand it,” you said quietly, grief gripping your throat.

And you did. You knew that feeling so well, like the back of your hand. The urge that made you jump into your car, making you drive for hours on end because you were too scared to find out what would happen if you let that feeling get a steady hold of you. A panic attack would be the most plausible, but who knew what it would make you do.

Self-harm was never something you though about. Fortunately, you never slipped that far into the rabbit hole. But you were scared you might hurt others. You might lash out at your parents for never being there for you when your brother died, drowning in their own grief and never thinking about yours for a moment. So you coped. You coped with visiting places he might have gone to, you coped with imagining your brother next to you while you drove around Seoul.

“It’s too much.” Doyoung’s voice was low and defeated. When your eyes met, it was like you were looking in the mirror. The haunted and lost sparkle in them resonated with your soul, pulling at strings in your heart that no one could ever touched.

You wanted to hug him, but placing your hand over his was enough for now. Even that little gesture seemed far too intimate in the moment. You both let the other look into your own souls, see the pain gathering in there.

You took a deep breath, deciding to dive into your pain, trusting him and sharing your story with him.

“I had an older brother once, too. He was my world growing up. Then he died in a car accident and I was left alone with my feelings. My parents… they were so lost in grieving their dead son, that they forgot about their other kid. They never talk about it with me, and the pain gets unbearable sometimes. Making me want to run away… But I’m too much of a coward for that, so I just keep driving around, visiting places I find in the city, so I don’t have to be at home, alone or with my parents.”

Doyoung squeezed your hand with his own, then laced your fingers together. A silent sign of support.

“So trust me when I say: it gets better. You learn to cope with things with time. You learn to forgive and that overwhelming feeling will get lighter. I don’t know if it will ever disappear, but it will get better.”

You kept sitting there in silence, looking at the City Gate. You felt you two were like that piece of history over there. It stood stable and unmovable in the middle of this modern jungle. Time kept chipping away at its edges, but it couldn’t be broken just like that.

You were like that, too. Feelings tormented your soul, but you steeled yourself and kept going, not letting it make you any less of what you truly were.

The car ride back was peaceful. A weight have been lifted from both of your souls. And for once, you weren’t imagining your brother sitting in the passenger seat. Doyoung sat there, and he kept singing with the radio in the most ridiculous voices, making you laugh and happy. His dark eyes lost that haunted look from them. They sparkled with lightness in the city lights.

You felt like you could get used to it – driving around with him next to you.

You didn’t even notice when started to sing along. With windows rolled down, your voices flew with the wind in the soft summer night. At a red light, you watched Doyoung. His eyes crinkled at the edges, constantly smiling as he was heaving for air between two songs. You felt happy.

Parking near the place where he jumped into your car, you looked at him again. The uplift mood calmed down, but the air still held onto the lightness of it.

“Do you feel better?” You asked, wanting to make the night last a little longer.

“Yes. Thank you. For everything.”

Another silent moment passed. Doyoung haven’t moved to get out of the car. His eyebrows furrowed as he got lost in his thoughts before he finally voiced them.

“You know, you never told me your name. You told me to call you Jude, but I bet it was a lie.”

“For tonight, it was the truth.”

“It’s still not fair. You know my name, and you never really told me yours.”

“I’ll tell you, if we ever meet again, Doyoung,” you smiled softly at him, a hint of sadness washing over you. You knew that you probably will never meet him again.

Doyoung grabbed your hand, squeezed it once, twice before getting out of your car. The horizon started to turn orange with the sun coming up as you watched Doyoung walk away, his mask back on his face.

And so the night ended.

You wandered around Namdaemun market. It was earlier than usual, the sun only started to set.

You spent your day off walking around in the city, even visited your parents for lunch and suggested to them that you should go to your brother’s grave together for the anniversary of his death. Things were getting better, you dared to say. You still had bad days, where only driving around would help you, but escaping your depressing thoughts weren’t that easy.

For the last three years you always took this day off. It wasn’t a special day or anything, but you felt like you should. For three years you spent this day going anywhere but the Namdaemun market or the City Gate. You didn’t need a harsh reminder of that one particular night you spent in the company of Doyoung. That night you felt you were with someone who you understood on the deepest level and you missed that feeling. And you missed him. Which was weird because you only knew him for a night and never met him again. Day by day it seemed more likely to never see him again.

But this year, you gathered your strength and decided to go to the night market.

As more people started to crowd the streets, you went to Yoona and Minsu’s place for your usual fill of tteokbokki. You also found a nice teacup set at an antic shop on the other side of the city, which you wanted to gift to Yoona. It was packaged well and securely, so she couldn’t find out from one look what it was.

“My sweet girl! How good to see you again!” You smiled at the familiar words which you were greeted with upon your every visit. Yoona looked more tired than usually, but her eyes shined with warmth and strength.

You took a seat at the counter; it slowly became your spot at the restaurant. You already had a cup of warm tea placed in front of you, as if she was anticipating your visit already.

“I knew you would come. I told that boy to come back later, you might just be running late,” Yoona’s words made you frown. Your heart leaped into your throat at the possibilities of who she was thinking about. You swallowed back all your feelings, and tried to look nonchalant.

“What boy?”

“The one you came here with once,” she rewarded you with a look which said you should know about it better than her. “He keeps coming back every year, but you keep missing each other. Tragic, if you ask me. Not to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, but you shouldn’t treat him like this. Leaving people hanging is not a nice thing to do!”

Time has stopped for a moment. You didn’t even notice the mug burning your fingers as you held it, you could only think about Yoona’s words.

The boy you came here with once… Doyoung. It only could be Doyoung. He was here. He came here every year, looking for you at the only place where he knew he might find you.

“I… I never knew he came back. I only met him that one time.” You tried to defend yourself, and Yoona’s expression softened, then a mischievous smile took over her features.

“It must be fate, then.”

“You never told me he kept coming back here.”

“Well, I thought you were trying to avoid him for some reasons. Young love can be unpredictable even for an old soul like me.”

Dismissing that anticipating feeling in your chest, you willed yourself to change the subject. Yoona almost cried while opening your gift, even called Minsu out for a moment, so he could admire it too. The little restaurant was busier than it used to be, so you could only exchange a few words with the old man before he had to return to the kitchen. Talking with them filled your soul to the fullest, yet you were missing something.

Knowing that Doyoung was at the Namdaemun market looking for you made you do silly things. Like gazing at the door every time it opened, hoping it was Doyoung arriving. You barely had any luck, but you still kept doing it. You told yourself you would only stay an hour, but you kept staying until you finally confessed to yourself: you wouldn’t leave until he would finally came back here.

After eating a plate of tteokbokki, you switched your tea with coffee. You were sipping the second cup already. There were fewer people, most of them went out to discover the market and Yoona went to the kitchen to help Minsu clean up a bit.

Someone came in again, and you looked at them for a second, then turned back to your coffee. Then back to the newcomer.

It was Doyoung. He had a mask on, but the same dark hair and eyes from three years ago greeted you like a wave of fresh air. You unknowingly held your breath, only exhaled when the corner of his eyes crinkled, indicating a smile. You returned it without thinking, slipping out of your seat.

Standing there awkwardly, Doyoung was the first one to move. He walked to you, pulling out a bouquet of pink camellias from behind his back. You felt your face heating up as he held out the flowers for you. The tip of his ears were red, too, you noticed.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said in a soothing tone, and you chuckled at his words. Yes, for three years, he was looking and waiting for you.

“I know,” you answered. You could see it in his eyes that he understood exactly what you were feeling. He was feeling it, too.

Your fingers brushed his when you took the bouquet, smelling the flowers. They were sweet, just as the gesture of giving them to you.

“I wanted to tell you; you were right. It got better. And also, you owe me your name.”

He pulled his mask down as you sat back to the counter and didn’t answer him immediately, Yoona brought out another cup of coffee for him, and smiled knowingly as she disappeared again.

You couldn’t stop smiling, and it seemed Doyoung felt the same.

“I told you to call me Jude once.” Hearing your answer a pout formed on his lips.

“And you also said that you will tell me your name if we meet again. And we did.” He drummed with his fingers on the wooden counter, eyes avoiding yours for a moment. “It would be weird to ask you on a date without knowing your name, wouldn’t it?”

You blushed at his words. Your heart fluttered dangerously in your chest. Gulping down a sip of coffee, your gaze left his eyes. He was still not looking at you as he waited for your reaction. You played with the shanks of the camellias as you muttered your name and looked back at him again.

His dark eyes finally locked on yours, shining with a warm light in them. He smiled as he placed his hand on yours.

“Hello, Y/N! I’m Doyoung, and I think I’m three years late with asking you to a second date.”

“Second?” You questioned him with furrowed eyebrows.

“Yes. Don’t tell me you don’t remember the first one. It would make things a little awkward.”

“Then remind me, please.”

“Well, I jumped into your car and you took me here. We ate tteokbokki and talked until dawn. I believe you stole my heart that night, but you refused to even tell me your name.”

He took away your breath with his easy confession. He said it so freely as if it was common knowledge. Maybe to him it was, since you both had three years to mull over your feelings.

“You will hold a grudge over it forever, huh?” You teased him.

“Maybe. But a smart woman once told me that time can solve a lot of things, so who knows?”

You laughed at his words, basking in the light atmosphere of a slowly budding love.

You felt happy as you ordered a second plate of tteokbokki, and officially started your second date with Doyoung.

#nct #nct fanfic #nct fluff #doyoung #doyoung fanfic #doyoung fluff #badlands series

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crashpill · 8 months

Text

Constable

Name: George-Daniel Pride

Age: 41

Gender: Male

Residence: St. George's Holm

Job: Constable

Hair colour: Dirty blonde

Eye colour: Blue

Family: Both of his parents are on holiday. He also had one older brother which he lost in the war.

Pets: None, but his family had a dog when he was a child.

Wife: Edie Mimi Pride

Likes:

- Edie, obviously

- Uncle Jack

- Animals (especially dogs)

- Favourite Outfits: His uniform and his rubber catsuit

- Favourite song: "You'll Never Change My Mind" by The Make Believes

- Nature

- Fruit tea

- Kinky stuff

- Made-up scary stories

Dislikes:

- Seeing Edie sad when she's off her joy

- Coffee and Chicory

- Brash & intrusive people

- The Plough Boys and Plaguies

- Burglars

- Downers

- Broken Bobby poppers

- Angry mobs

- Loud Criers

Backstory: Back when Edie lost her family due to their house being bombed, George's parents rescued her out of the ruins of her home and took her in, raising her as if she was their own child.

George and Edie got along very well very quickly and when they got older they eventually got married.

George's dog died in the ruins of their old home. Even though he didn't have to witness his death personally, the pain caused by his loss still hits him to this day whenever he hears someone talk about dogs or when he sees a picture of one.

After the war was over, George and Edie moved out of the Garden District and inside the town of Wellington Wells, where he joined the Constabulary and became a Bobby.

George has always been a very hard-working lad who (almost) always follows the rules unless it's necessary to break them in order to help Edie.

Since Edie suffered a severe concussion when her parents' house collapsed on her, her memory has only gotten even worse from taking Joy and so she is very forgetful.

To keep her from getting in trouble, George always makes sure to leave her little reminders in the shape of tiny notes all over the house. Thanks to him working at the Constabulary and being able to inform his colleagues of his wife's situation, the other Bobbies are also aware of her memory issue, which is very convenient as it usually leads to them turning a blind eye to her if she ever forgot to take her Joy or put on her happy face before leaving the house.

Whenever George is free from work, he spends his time with Edie, usually taking her to the park to have a nice picnic or to visit the reform club together.

They are so loyal to each other that their trust in one another is so big that they're living in an open relationship, which they often live out at the reform club, either alone or together.

Although his colleagues often joke about him being a member at the reform club, he doesn't mind it at all and still has a good relationship to everyone regardless.

When the two are alone together, George usually calls Edie "Kitten" and she calls him "Puppy". He's more of the quiet type and prefers to listen instead of talking.

Regarding the rest of his family, he only vaguely remembers his older brother. The only thing he remembers is that, personality-wise, he was the complete opposite of him and that his name was Samuel, even though most of the time people just called him Sam. Apart from that, he only remembers that his brother went to war to fight against the Germans, but never came back.

Unaware of what had happened to him, George, who was still very young at the time, stayed at home with his parents and helped his mother with the household chores and small errands.

A year after George and Edie moved out, his parents eventaully died, partially from grief for their still-lost son Samuel, about whom they still knew nothing until that day, even if they were already assuming the worst; on the other hand of old age.

Edie's German origins have enabled George to pick up a little of her mother language during their time together, but not much when it comes to sentence structure, which is why Edie keeps poking fun at his broken German from time to time.

Opinions on fellow citizens:

Downers:

Because of his work and the rules of the law regarding Downers, his opinion on them isn't exactly the best. He cares deeply for Edie and is afraid she might get hurt by one of them if she isn't careful.

With the exception of Ollie Starkey, however, he still regrets it when his job means he has to banish a Downer from the city, especially if their joyless behavior is caused by an intolerance to joy, and not because they simply chose to be sad.

He's a little scared that the same thing might happen to him or Edie one day, but he tries not to think about it too much.

Arthur Hastings:

George only knows Arthur through the wanted-ads but hasn't met him in person yet - to Arthur's luck.

Sally Boyle:

He knows that Sally is the one who produces the Blackberry Joy for the Constabulary, and that Edie is very good friends with her. Even though he's only met her two or three times in person, he thinks she's a very nice girl.

Oliver Starkey:

Him and the other Bobbies regularly have to kick him out of the Hamlyn Village, which often leads to George returning home with lots of wounds and bruises, so he's not very fond of him, to put it nicely.

Nick Lightbearer (aka Norbert Pickles):

George always enjoys listening in when Edie plays his music and accompanies her to every concert. However, his view on Nick's drug addiction is rather negative (except for his joy addiction, of course). He also can't stand the unicorn song.

James Maxwell & Roger Bacon:

He doesn't know much about the two, except that they're supposed to supervise and help Dr. Faraday, and that they sometimes invite Edie for chicory (or tea) and cake.

Bobbies:

His relationship to the other Bobbies is very good and he gets along well with everyone despite their mixed opinions on his membership at the reform club. Although he enjoys working with (almost) all of them, he's hoping get a promotion one day, to be able to work at the broadcasting tower where Uncle Jack is.

Doctors:

To say he's fed up with them would be understated, as they constantly scare and chase Edie through the town. He nearly has to explain to them every second day that she's just very forgetful and not intentionally off her joy. Despite his strong dislike for the Doctors, he still occasionally helps them with neutralizing free-running Downers.

Uncle Jack (aka Jack Worthing):

He loves Uncle Jack! He would love to meet and work with him in person, which is why his biggest dream is to one day be promoted to be his personal bodyguard.

He loves every single one of his shows without exception and even secretly watches his programs on the public television whenever he's patrolling the streets. However his ultimate favorite shows are "Famous Britons" and "Humor Hour".

Foggy Jack: He's heard some very scary stories about him, but luckily he hasn't met him personally yet. Unfortunately though he already had to discover multiple victims of his. Because of this, he always pays special attention to his sorroundings at his night shifts. He also made an agreement with Edie that she never leaves the house at night without him.

Constable Hickinbotham:

They're very good and close friends ever since they first saw each other at the reform club. They regularly meet up at the club to have a drink together and enjoy some fun with the other members, either participating or just leaning back and watching.

Constable "John" Constable:

His favorite partner to work with, as he has learned a lot from him being his instructor during his apprenticeship.

#Oc: George-Daniel Pride #we happy few #whf #Whf oc #we happy few oc

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lovesongbracket · 1 year

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Reminder: Vote based on the song, not the artist or specific recording! The tracks referenced are the original artist, aside from a few rare cases where a cover is the most widely known.

Lyrics, videos, info, and notable covers under the cut. (Spotify playlist available in pinned post)

Ain't No Mountain High Enough

Written By: Valerie Simpson & Nickolas Ashford

Artist: Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrell

Released: 1967

“Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” marked the first collaboration between soul artists Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell in terms of releases. It was the first single from their debut album United where it also appeared as the opening track on the record. Although they kept their relationship as professional as could be, the two were practically inseparable with most describing them as “brother and sister.” At Terrell’s funeral after her tragic death at the mere age of 24, her mother barred everyone at Motown from attending except Gaye (who also delivered the eulogy) as she felt he was her only friend there. Perhaps there really was no mountain, valley or river that could ever come between them. The song was listed by writers of the UK publication NME as one of the Top 150 Singles of All Time, and the song was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame in 1999. The song would go on to be covered by dozens of artists, including Diana Ross, The Supremes and The Temptations, as well as the songwriters Ashford & Simpson among others.

[Verse 1: Marvin Gaye, Tammi Terrell & Both] Listen, baby Ain't no mountain high Ain't no valley low Ain't no river wide enough, baby If you need me, call me No matter where you are No matter how far Don't worry, baby Just call my name I'll be there in a hurry You don't have to worry 'Cause, baby, there [Chorus: Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrell] Ain't no mountain high enough Ain't no valley low enough Ain't no river wide enough To keep me from getting to you, babe [Verse 2: Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrell] Remember the day I set you free I told you you could always count on me, darling From that day on, I made a vow I'll be there when you want me, someway, somehow Oh, baby, there [Chorus: Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrell] Ain't no mountain high enough Ain't no valley low enough Ain't no river wide enough To keep me from getting to you, babe [Bridge: Marvin Gaye, Tammi Terrell & Both] Oh no, darling No wind, no rain Or winter's cold Can stop me, baby (No, no, baby) 'Cause you are my goal If you're ever in trouble I'll be there on the double Just send for me, oh, baby, ha [Verse 3: Tammi Terrell, Marvin Gaye & Both] My love is alive (Woo) Way down in my heart Although we are miles apart If you ever need a helping hand I'll be there on the double Just as fast as I can Don't you know that there [Chorus: Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrell, Tammi Terrell] Ain't no mountain high enough Ain't no valley low enough Ain't no river wide enough To keep me from getting to you, baby Don't you know that there Ain't no mountain high enough Ain't no valley low enough Ain't no river wide enough Ain't no mountain high enough Ain't no valley low enough

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Wouldn't It Be Nice

Written By: Tony Asher, Mike Love & Brian Wilson

Artist: The Beach Boys

Released: 1966

Cover included: Trousdale, 2020

The opening track of Pet Sounds was later released as the albums' third single with “God Only Knows” as its B-Side. The song was written with young people in mind and expresses the “never grow old” mentality. Quotes from Brian Wilson: “Listen for the rockin' accordions and the ethereal guitars in the introduction. Tony and I had visualized a scene. We had a feeling in our hearts, like a vibration. We put it into music, and it found its way onto tape. We really felt good about that record.” “Wouldn’t It Be Nice' was not a real long song, but it’s a very ‘up’ song. It expresses the frustrations of youth, what you can’t have, what you really want and you have to wait for it. The need to have the freedom to live with somebody. The idea is, the more we talk about it, the more we want it, but let’s talk about it anyway.”

[Verse 1: Brian Wilson] Wouldn't it be nice if we were older? Then we wouldn't have to wait so long And wouldn't it be nice to live together In the kind of world where we belong? [Chorus: Brian Wilson] You know it's gonna make it that much better When we can say goodnight and stay together [Verse 2: Brian Wilson] Wouldn't it be nice if we could wake up In the morning when the day is new? After having spent the day together Hold each other close the whole night through [Chorus: Brian Wilson] But happy times together we've been spending I wish that every kiss was never-ending Oh, wouldn't it be nice? [Bridge: Mike Love, Brian Wilson, Carl Wilson] Maybe if we think and wish and hope and pray, it might come true Oh, baby, then there wouldn't be a single thing we couldn't do Oh, we could be married (Oh, we could be married) And then we'd be happy (And then we'd be happy) Oh, wouldn't it be nice? [Chorus: Brian Wilson] You know it seems the more we talk about it It only makes it worse to live without it But let's talk about it But wouldn't it be nice? [Outro: Mike Love] Goodnight, my baby Sleep tight, my baby Goodnight, my baby Sleep tight, my baby Goodnight, my baby Sleep tight, my baby

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#ain't no mountain high enough #marvin gaye #tammi terrell #wouldn't it be nice #the beach boys #polls #poll tournament #poll bracket #tournament #bracket #lovesongbracket #round3

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fanficsiwillneverwrite · 10 months

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just a wip of my latest obsession

On a brisk autumn day Aziraphale sits quietly in what will eventually become a souvenir shop in an area not yet calling itself Soho, London. It is right now a growing settlement within the freshly named Kingdom of England. He very much enjoys sitting and watching humans get on with their impassioned—nathaless, very short—lives at a safe distance with little interference, and this place in particular brings something quite unique to the whole experience. Perhaps it is the song they carry inside them, despite their hardships. Or the natural friendless each person emulates around each other. Or the laughter coming from the bellies of nearby children playing beside the water. Whatever it may be, love and therefore God exists within it.

This observation is all in his first visit to the eventual town called Soho, for he knew he would soon return. On his third visit some years later, the people now know him as a little more than a stranger. Not quite yet a trusted ally, but nowhere near an enemy. It is the children who come to love him first.

“What is it you are doing?” asks a small voice one day while he is painting. A new leisure activity taken up to mimic human existence. His hobby of book collecting is still quite brand new and a headache to track in these early years of literacy.

His name is Eustace, the small voice beside him. A young boy of twelve nearly thirteen with innocent eyes and a mischievous look about him. He is very much the definition of adversity, somehow always stuck in the between stages of no good with his father no longer existing and his mother, a most notable adulteress. That is, a whore to the non-angels.

“Painting,” Aziraphale says placidly, though art is like literature in that it has not yet become itself. He uses minerals and organic pigments to revive the sight before him: overgrown strips of various greens blowing in the hectic blue wind with splashes of amber and crimson imitating the setting sun. The boy, curious, touches Aziraphale’s knuckle and follows along as the angel paints. He allows the moment to linger before looking up. “Would you like to have a go?”

Eustace nods, sitting. It is the quietest the boy has ever been. It is the quietest the boy will ever be. He splatters two wobbly shapes onto the wooden panel, exclaiming, “Us,” quite contently.

“Us,” agrees the angel, equally content with the extra additions to his painting.

Eustace—who was born about one hundred years too early to have a last name—is good natured at heart, but has a dreadful temper. “The boy needs discipline is all,” were the wise but drunken words of his father before his timely death just two weeks later.

It is a universal fact that all humans need discipline. Without discipline, they are at risk of becoming permanent pests to society. They are at risk of becoming a great many things, including flat earthers, loud chewers, murderers, Tiktok influencers and, of course, fallen angels.

Crowley’s shadow suddenly looms over them. Something inside Aziraphale bubbles, clearly a heightened angel sense to know when trouble is lurking. “Right now, off you go,” he tells the boy calmly but quickly as they stand.

Crowley half-heartedly—perhaps maybe even a little playfully—kicks the boy as he leaves. “You and your little human pets,” the demon says with a mephitic scent on his breath.

Aziraphale shrinks. “Humans… are not pets,” he insists. They are God’s children and he is to watch over them until his orders say otherwise.

“Hope you’re not too attached to this lot,” he continues, looking on at the growing community around them. “I’ve got direct orders from the big boys downstairs. They’re to all perish in three days time. No survivors.”

“Oh,” says Aziraphale, obviously distraught. He sees the young boy skipping along the path to his home, blissfully unaware of his upcoming death.

“I haven’t yet decided how I’m going to do it. Maybe an accidental fire, or yet another devastating plague. But all that’s very boring, isn’t it?”

“It’s all part of God’s plan,” he says with an unsure nod. “I’m sure of it.” He was given no orders to prevent it from happening, so it must be part of the greater plan. Where there is death, there is also rebirth waiting around the corner.

“Sure, sure,” agrees Crowley absentmindedly. He takes a short pause before continuing, “Do you think death by venomous snakes is a bit too much?” He turns to Aziraphale, but receives no answer. Only a look of worry. He waves the angel off. “Ah, I’ll figure it out. I’ve got three days.”

#good omens #slow start but it’s getting somewhere #a little less thrilling than what it is in my head but that’s life ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#fanfic #fanfiction #good omens fanfiction #if you know my writing you know where this is heading #:)#love you #also ready for s2

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strangerdangerwrites · 1 year

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Ghost Waltz | R.L. (Wednesday Series) - Chapter Two

Summary: Because a ghost truly never leaves. Not when you don’t know what your true unfinished business is.

Ghost!Rowan Laslow x Female!Witch!Reader (No use of Y/N) Warnings: Major character death (I mean Rowan is a ghost in this one), wounds (i really dont know how to tag)

Chapters: Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Three, Chapter Four

This story happened a long time ago. It has already been done, etched in the stones of faith and sands of time. Nothing can be done to change it.

It started in a clearing, 330 years ago…

A woman walks the lone road, a small smile painted on her face as she skips her way to her own humble abode. The air was not too cold or too hot, it felt just right as the rays of the sun had peaked in the leaves of the tall trees. The ground beneath their feet, almost looked heavenly as the morning fog almost made the light look golden. It looked ethereal, almost feeling like a dream.

Humming a song, she heard thrice from the village children. Who had been bothering her for quite some time with their questions and curious little mind.

A large pail of water in hand, it was early in the morning, the dew had made the air taste so sweetly that she had to stick her tongue out to feel the fresh air. It has been a week of rain, and today is the day the sun has peaked its rays. Only then the crunch of leaves beneath a person’s feet stopped the older girl’s thought.

“T’was your walk eventful, I presume thy children hinder you no more?” A girl approached her, her hair still in a bundle of mess, smiling as they stood side-by-side in the middle of the clearing basking in the warm sunlight.

“I bid you an early and bright morning to you too.” The older girl greeted her with a small smile, looking at the younger girl’s hair that was not yet brushed. “I dare say — are you not a child as well, Goody?”

The older girl teased, laughing how the younger girl pouted and crossed her arms as playful as ever. After all, Goody Addams always travels quite a few walks just to get her hair braided by you. Together you walked side by side, straight to your home.

“T’is not the point.” Goody cleared her throat, still waiting for you to answer the question.

Breathing out a large sigh: “Ah… they do. The children liked to spend time running around my garden, picking and plucking. But I pay no mind, they do not cause thy harm.”

Goody nodded, now her hands remained at her side with her face scrunched in a knot.

“With the regard to Mr. —”

“He doth not. He troubles me no more. I have postponed any visit towards the town.”

And just like that you silenced Goody’s questions with your answer. No more further discussing the topic about a certain person, rather you would suppress any more information. Goody nodded.

Right as you both were approaching your humble home; multiple voices could be heard. The children from the town had come early in the morning to bother you once more. Loud pounding on your wooden door could be heard, even from how far you both had stood.

Two children, along with a hunched form were shouting at you to open the door, miles away you could hear the desperation in their tone. The children had been calling your name, their voices hoarse from the shouting, it seemed like they had been there since you had left an hour ago. The hunched form suddenly wobbled their way to rest upon the outside wall structure of your home and right as they turned you can see the blood coating their clothes. You immediately dropped the pail of water, as you hurried your way to them, and Goody had followed you as well.

When the children heard your footsteps, their eyes were stained with a streak of tears. Their faces were red as they stuttered how to explain what had transpired while you were gone.

The children Caleb and Jonas were out playing early in the morning right near the outskirts of town, these two unruly boys were bored out of their minds when they decided to follow the young man who is now laying down on your table, groaning in pain as you held his bleeding wound. They had followed the young man into the woods, hoping to find amusement in learning to hunt, only that their scent was not covered well enough, and the food in their stomach had been sensed by wolves. The young man had noticed when the children had screamed, helping them immediately and in the process had been almost mauled alive if it weren't for the kids helping him as they threw rocks at the wolves.

With that explained, you had called upon Goody to get you another pail of clean water as fast as possible while the children remained by your side.

Tapping the young man’s cheek whose skin is turning pale much faster than you had imagined. His eyes were dilated, and unfocused as they scanned the room and only stopped to look at your panicked expression.

“An angel.” He muttered, and your hands were placed on his cheeks once more.

“What is your name?” Tapping him again, trying to make him focus on you. As you press down onto his wounds once again, you cannot move from your position unless Goody has given you a set of clean waters to dress his wounds. The herbs you had been concocting were only for small wounds and bruises, meanwhile, his wounds were deep. And the blood had poured far too fast and many.

He groaned. Eyes closing and his forehead scrunched in pain. “Rowan.”

“Rowan, I want you to look at me.” You told him. He nodded weakly.

“Will I die?” He weakly questioned, you looked around you and the children had been crying buckets of tears. Panicking with every passing moment, you didn’t know what to do next. And the only thing left is you to unveil your secret.

After all, you are a healing witch. And you had been hiding for quite some time. What use would you be if you did not heal a patient.

“Make haste and gather my herbs.” You commanded the children; they stood still for a moment before nodding to go to the other room. As soon as they left, you waved your hand as you locked the door shut.

You felt the cold embrace of Death’s carriage, and you can hear the hooves of His ride. Rowan’s eyes were slowly drifting to deepest sleep, as you can feel Death approaching your doors. The looming heaviness you felt as His presence slowly gathered their way into your home. Ready to set foot inside and take what would be His.

“I beg you to keep this a secret between you and me.” You leaned down and whispered to him. Looking at him intently and in desperation.

He focused on you, eyes slowly drooping but Rowan meekly nodded. “Promise me.”

“I promise.” He whispered. Voice gradually lost its strength as your hand hovered right above his wounds. As his eyes, drifting too close not before casting you one last look as his eyes drifted into sleep. Muttering a spell underneath your breath, the wound started to heal on its own.

You felt Death right outside your bedroom door, He stopped merely a few feet away. When your spell had broken Death’s curse, the room had gone back to its warm embrace. Gone was the coldness that comes with Death.

The pounding on your door rattled you, unlocking it the children almost barged into the room. Only you stopped them in time to prevent them from seeing what you had done.

“You cannot see this, t’is will scare you. Please wait for me, I promise you I will heal him.” You assured them as you closed the door once more, blocking it with a small chair.

You watched as Rowan’s eyes remained close and his wounds closed on itself. The blood on his and your clothes remained, and so are the large scars. Large claw marks that had run down from his chest to his abdomen. Your magic didn't color gold that day, rather it was black, realizing that this time you cheated Death with your healing spell to save a human’s life. And you know Death doesn’t take it kindly when someone would steal a soul.

When Goody pounded on the door, calling out to you. You opened it willingly only to her, as she immediately closed the door on the two boys outside; she saw you sitting down slumped as you stared at the young man in front of you, slowly breathing as he gained a sense of blood flowing normally through his veins. Goody frowned.

“Who else knows?” Goody asked.

“Only he.” You replied.

She grabbed your hand, kneeling right in front of you. “You know we cannot jeopardize our coven. Our numbers are low, everyone cannot be trusted easily.”

“I know Goody, I know.” You nodded solemnly. “And if this is proven to get me killed, I promise you that only I would take the fall.” You smiled sadly, as she held your hand tightly. You promised Goody, this is the price you are willing to pay. After all, what else could you lose, your life had already been set sold the moment you had become a Contract Witch.

You, Goody, and her mother belong to one coven, back when you were younger you were free to express witchcraft, now it has been forbidden after two “respected” men had spurred and published a book about identifying, interrogating, and hunting your kind. Now your numbers had been dwindling down, the Coven had far gone too weak. Last month, you received a letter from your sister (another witch) who had been residing in another town, and in her letter, she told how mass witch hysteria had been affecting multiple states.

“Take care of yourself, please.” Goody pleaded, you only smiled and kissed her forehead in reassurance.

“I will. Now go home and take the children with you. I’ll take care of him while he heals.” You instructed her with a nod, as you opened the door. The children were standing there with their hands held tightly together. You gave them a warm smile.

When the children and Goody left, the only sound you could hear was the gentle breathing of the young man on your bed. You realized how bloody the mess was, you gave out a heavy sigh and cleaned. Wiping your bloodied hands and his wounds. The large scars that covered his body were mostly healed, meanwhile, the one near his jaws showed another set of claw marks. It looked like he had fought them off with a great deal, even going as far as walking towards your home, blindly following the children’s advice that they know someone who could heal them.

“You are too naive.” You whispered to him while wiping the remnants of blood off him. “We share that in common.”

That night Goody had visited you again to bring another plate of dinner, together you sat in silence. While your injured guest remained sleeping peacefully. You had asked Goody if someone had been looking for him and it turns out there were none which made you surprised. You never saw Rowan before, only when the new settlers had moved in two weeks ago. You interacted with a handful of settlers once, and two had offered you a job which you greatly declined.

Goody munched on the bread with a heavy thought in mind: “I need you to be cautious, he might run off towards the town and tell them what you are. I do not want another family of mine to be gone. Please?”

With a heavy sigh, you nodded. “I promise.”

“Please.” Goody called out your name. “Do not make promises you doth not intend to keep.”

And that was the truth, the uncertainty lies in whether Rowan would rat you out to the townsfolk. Your future solely relies on whether he would keep his promise. Attaching yourself to the humans would greatly cost you now; At present, the sirens, werewolves, and those who possess supernatural powers have gone into hiding since a great deal of people had deemed those who showed powers of a God as monsters. A seer had once told you that your naivety in trusting humans and their words were your greatest weakness.

Instead of going the other way when you interacted with humans, you faced them with resilience. You sit at the gates of your heart and welcome anyone with an open mind and heart. You knew deep down that all people are kind, only they do evil things in circumstances they cannot control. You are the one who shares empathy with any living being, you are the one with the forgiving heart, the one who looks for the best in people. You had shown kindness even when the world had shown you how cruel it can be, because who else could do it. As a healing witch, it is in your nature to nurture those around you, and that is what you did; that is who you are.

The following day, the children had offered you food and visited Rowan, checking on him. And without a hitch, you would clean his wounds as it still sometimes opens on its own, you were never a powerful witch, mediocre at best; Death felt cheated that you had stolen a life from him and you can still feel Him lurking in the dark.

Every day you would wipe his cold sweat and clean his wounds. Giving him a drink as he rests and talking to him as if he were not asleep. You would tell him that Jonas and Caleb had been offering him trinkets that they found, even offering him flowers as a gift of thanks. And in those days, you would stand at your doorway, trying to see if someone would come for him and take him away from your home. And most of the time, you were waiting for him to wake up. You want to know if your witchcraft can truly heal wounds that are near death. Your abilities were not as great as those of the Supreme.

While you were cooking a simple stew for yourself, you heard a large thud in your bedroom, as well as a couple of things toppling over in your own room. Your guest has awoken.

Walking calmly as ever, you decided not to scare him. He might still be delirious, and it can work to your advantage that he was only half-conscious when you healed him with your witchcraft. You can just say, you healed him, and he’d be none the wiser. Knocking on your own bedroom door, you heard him stop in his tracks.

“May I come in?” You asked, hands carefully holding a tray of food and your own concocted medicine. After waiting for 30 seconds, you opened the door to see him standing supported by a dresser, as you can still see him limping. His hair was disheveled, and his clothes had gone soaked with blood once more with the movement he had done earlier.

“Where am I?”

“You are in my home.”

“Why?”

You paused. It seems like it would work in your favor that he does not remember.

“A group of children brought you here, two days ago. Dost thou not remember being mauled by wolves?” You asked, waiting for his response. Rowan was thinking deeply, when he plopped to sit on your bed in shock and the pain in his abdomen had caused him discomfort, he truly believed your word.

Looking down at his own wounds, the large claw marks that adorned his skin, and the pain he felt all throughout his body; it only registered to him that you were saying the truth. He opened some of the warps on his abdomen to stare at the large claws that almost looked like it had ripped him in half. You could only sigh in relief, reasoning that your patient was fine and breathing, and the other was that he would not recall the secret that you had desperately tried to keep.

“Was it you who nursed me?” He asked. Looking at you intensely, waiting for you to answer his question. You thought twice, would it hurt to live for the truth. You gulped a large knot in your throat.

You laughed dryly, as you placed the tray of food near your bedside table and concealed it. “You are unduly inquisitive. And I did heal you.”

“Then I must thank thee that you hast healed me and brought me to safety.” He coughed, only wincing when he realized it hurts to cough. Hurriedly, you almost went towards him to check on his open wounds.

But Rowan flinched, in the miniscule moment you saw a slight terror as soon as your hands near him. And you felt anxiety creeping behind you, while you slowly backed away.

“T’is fine. I’m fine. I apologize if I cause you unease. I was—” He paused. “Still in daze, that I might open some wounds”

“I understand”

You stood right beside your dresser, waiting as he silently racked his mind. You awkwardly stood there as he was still in disbelief as to how and what had happened to him. You looked anywhere but him.

“How may I repay you? Surely you would need silver coins.” He cringed as soon as the words had left his mouth, Rowan realized he does not have any money with him nor has the means to pay you. You can see it on his face when he realized that.

“You do not owe me anything, I did it out of a good will.” You reassured him. “You must eat to regain your health. You can stay as long as you wish.”

“But you have done quite a lot for me, surely there is a way for me to help?” You paused. Would you request that he stay silent and risk the possibility that he might remember that day he was on his deathbed. Or would you live in his ignorance.

You decided on the latter. “Can you help me gather firewood? Would that satisfy you? Moreover, I need to check up on your wounds daily, you have been bleeding badly and I need to treat my patient with utmost care.”

And he nodded eagerly, which made you smile at ease. At least, if he stays near you, you can gauge whether he would betray your goodwill. And a wise person had already said that one should be on one’s toes, and alert of one's enemies' movements, to ensure that they cannot wreak havoc in one’s life.

“I owe you my life, truly.” He said with a smile that reached his ears and made his eyes look like the morning you had first met him. You smiled and looked at your fingers nervously, this was the first and only time you had seen a human look as almost as beautiful as that morning.

The first day tension was laid ease, when you reassured him that it is safe in your home that he did not need to rush. He can stay as long as he likes and make himself feel at home while he heals. He felt too indebted, but when you demanded him once more that you would let him be, once he is fully healed. In those days, the children rejoiced when they found out he was awake and almost tackled him with a tight embrace.

Your home had never felt so alive. It was filled with laughter and life. A week ago, you had considered the worst. Just waiting for your inevitable doom, waiting until Death would come to take you as well. Little was your life worth to you. You were a Contract Witch, and a contract witch is always indebted to their Gods, one wrong move could lead you to displease the Divines.

And yet without a doubt, Rowan showed and proved that you can trust him. Not once did you feel unsafe around him nor did he threaten you, he is polite and kind, a true gentleman, unlike the other settlers who had barged in your home. You were grateful for Rowan; in different circumstances you would have liked to meet him when he is not bleeding. Rather it be you or him bumping into each other in town and setting an untimely friendship.

Rowan made your worries disappear, he distracted your fears since he always makes you laugh the hardest. He made sure you never felt alone in your own home, the walls never felt dull when he was around. He felt like sunshine, after a long storm, something nice. Something that you quite can’t put your finger on.

He settled in your home like he was always meant to be. He fit in snuggly, you never thought you would find someone who entertains you with countless stories for hours on end. Never was a dull day, with him around. Some days you’d teach him when he had said to you how he never learned to read. You’d stay together, while he listens to you as you teach him intently. And in the mundane moments of life, where you both sit in silence everything feels tranquil and nice. You were content.

In fact, the truth is you had trusted him since the first day you had met.

Call it naivety, or stupidity but you did. Never would you tell it out loud. But you were always like that, naive, always easy to trust, always fond of humans. Gullible to their intentions of them, and only seeing the good. And even if they made mistakes, you’d see room for improvement.

That’s why you let the children play in your gardens, and that the humans in the town would always give you a bright smile upon seeing you. You did not see evil in them, rather you looked at life in an optimistic light. It warms your soul, like a comforting embrace of a lover, a tender kiss on the forehead; your heart is the most beautiful thing about you, so you’ve been told. And you liked to keep it that way, away from the hurt and the pain.

In the comfort of your own living room walls, you would clean his wounds while he watched you intently. The silence never felt heavy with him, rather it felt comforting.

“Thank you.” Rowan muttered, looking at you prepare a concoction you had gotten from your own garden. “I have been nothing but a burden, please tell me how I can repay my debt to you.”

“I told you once, and I would not repeat myself once more. You do not owe me anything, your presence is enough to guarantee that your debt has been paid.” The last sentence had caught you off guard, you did not expect that to come out of your own tongue.

And Rowan laughed. He laughed, and you almost wished you had kept something sounding so pure in a bottle where every night you’d be a drunken man.

You cleared your throat with a cough: “What I want to say is I enjoy your company.”

“I know.” He smiled. “I know.”

“Then tell me, tell me about the most impressive places you’ve been. Surely that can count as a payment. I’ve never stepped foot outside of this town. Yet, my sister told me it is wonderful, there were celebrations made by towns, where they dance and drink all night. You must have experienced it in all of your travels, have you not? Pray tell, what is the most memorable place you have been.” You tried changing the subject while you wiped your hands clean to give him a cup of his own medicine.

Rowan pondered, “The most memorable place? That is a tricky question indeed.”

“Go on.”

“I would say your home is.”

You paused.

“Your answer bore me. But I must accept the compliment.”

“Then I’ll give you time to ponder on it. I am certain I can wait for your answers. Now take a rest, Goody has been asking me to go to her home since earlier this afternoon.” You stood up and walked towards your door and waved him goodbye. “Watch over our home, while I go?”

“I will.” Rowan nodded with a smile.

You walked out of your own home, the chilling feeling of the Autumn air biting right into your cheeks. Yet you briskly walked towards the younger Addams’ home, wanting it to be over as soon as you had left home. You didn’t know what Goody would’ve wanted to say, yet you couldn’t erase the smile on your face

Right in front of you in the distance, you can see a figure, a small one at that. Running to you in full speed, the lantern did not help you identify who they were but with a slight squint you can see the pigtails that were waving in the wind. Goody.

As soon as she had reached you, she held your arms tightly. Her eyes blew wide with panic.

“They have gotten your sister.” She spoke breathlessly. And in the lantern’s glow, you can see the tears in Goody’s eyes. You could only blink, your smile slowly erased from your face.

“I-I…” That can’t be. Last week, you had received a letter from her, stating how excited she was to visit you and the guest that had been staying at your home. Last week, you had just talked to her, how you would prepare a feast while she told you a story about their town’s celebration. Last week, she was just alive.

You didn’t need any further explanation; you knew what her words meant. Your sister has been hunted and killed. You felt your throat go dry, as you slumped towards the ground. Because that is the truth, you knew that in her last letters, she told you that she was afraid, afraid that she would be next, while you had set it aside and assured her that all would be okay, just to give things time and all would be fine.

You felt foolish, while you were playing house and had been stuck in your home healing Rowan, your sister was out there accused of being in league with the Devil. She had been hunted just because of her abilities, and you were here in your home doing nothing, that’s why you had never received this week’s weekly letter. She was hiding, while you were busy in your own world. Too naïve, too trustful, too optimistic in the harsh reality that your kind would face.

All you saw was red. Red. Like the blood on Rowan’s shirt, red like those fires that your other coven sisters that were burned. Your anger directed at those who hunted and killed your kind, and most especially violent anger towards yourself.

You didn’t realize that you were gasping for breath, while Goody had been talking to you. All was nothing but a white noise.

Goody shook you harshly. “I fear that you will be next.”

ghost-waltz-taglist: @arcana-greenleaf , @verytiredkate

a/n: this was supposed to be chapter one but then ive spent three days wondering that something felt wrong. Now it fits nicely, i think. Also did you get the haunting of bly manor references in all chapters, ive been listening to their series soundtrack all throughout writing it and it just fits. So here is a rlly rlly looooong chapter of backstory. Also, there might be an awkward dialogue (specially those in old english), this was just the tip of the iceberg research that i did, i didnt do any deep dive and used the vvitch script (starring my love, anya taylor-joy) as references also if you want to be tagged, don't be shy to ask. i dont bite i promise

#rowan laslow #rowan laslow x reader #rowan laslow imagine #wednesday imagines #wednesday #wednesday series #.sd written works

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dollarbin · 2 months

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Shakey Sunday #12:

Life

Neil Young has offered up a lot of weird images over the years. He's sought to identify the miscreant who slipped sponge in the bells he once rung; he's sailed heart ships through broken harbors; he's kicked it in the Astrodome with Pocahontas.

But Mideast Vacation, the opening track to Life, Young's troubled snot nose of a younger brother to Rust Never Sleeps (both are Crazy Horse records that employ the "let's record my nutty new songs live in concert and then add overdubs so as to call it a studio album" approach), features what is either one of the silliest or most terrifying images in Shakey's entire career.

"I was Rambo in the disco," he snarls, describing his reaction to hearing Death to America chants while on hollibobs with the wife and kids. "I was shooting to a beat."

We'll take it as a given that Neil is not self-reporting actual events: I've checked with Interpol and there are no international warrants out for his arrest.

So what's the tone here? Irony? Despondency? Fury? Inebriation? Take a listen, and let me know if you have any ideas. I'm forever lost when it comes to this entire record.

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The track sounds equal parts silly, sincere and feverish, the keyboards shape shifting and oozing into oddball corners like alien play dough in the hands of a brooding demon. There's nothing boring here; that's for sure.

The record's second song, Long Walk Home, contains no comparable depth or intrigue. Neil and the boys sound lovely on the chorus but everything else in the song, from the rockets red glare cannons to the 80's piano, sounds like it's ready to serve as the theme song for Farm Aid At Sea, a 10 day cruise starting and ending in Fort Lauderdale that Donald Trump probably already has in his ass shaped pipeline.

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But fear not, Dollar Binners, there is music worth hearing on this record. The third track, Around the World, is a wonderful and fairly psychotic collage of just about every tone Young had experimented with during his wacky 80's. Buckle up and consider a helmet:

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We've got Landing on Water's churning synths and drum fury, riff work and bass stomps carried over from Re-ac-tor, Everybody's Rockin's silliness when it comes to discussing some lady's fashion choices and Trans-level anxiety, not to mention some terrific screaming and a brutal, pounding fade out that anticipates Eldorado. There's nothing from Old Ways to be found in this song, I guess, but that's just fine by me.

Sadly, the record fails to build on Around the World's vast and bizarre palette. Side 1 wraps up with the far too long and ultimately dull Inca Queen that makes us wish we were hearing Cortez the Killer or Interstate instead, and Side 2 features five songs that are all too boneheaded and boring to write about (okay, I admit that there's some pretty sweet guitar work in Crying Eyes but that song is about 65 seconds long and Side B may as well have been written by a bunch of bozos attending a songwriting workshop led by Stephen Stills, Richard Marx and John Cougar Melonhead).

Neil famously put himself behind bars on the cover of this record, a not-subtle-in-any-way reference to the unhappy five years he'd just spent as a Geffen Records recording artist. I was 11 when he put this record out, too young for Neil Young. Thank god I was born when I was and first encountered Young two years later. By that point he was fresh out of the pen, ignoring his parole officer and busy committing crimes against mediocrity.

Hope you'll get the chance to do the same on your Shakey Sunday.

Cheers Everyone.

#Youtube #neil young #and crazy horse #stephen stills sucks

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homemadechickfilasauce · 2 years

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Movies I could rewatch every week in no particular order

1. The Loft (2014)

For five men (Karl Urban, James Marsden, Wentworth Miller, Eric Stonestreet, Matthias Schoenaerts), the opportunity to share a penthouse in the city -- in which to carry on extramarital affairs -- is a dream come true, until the dead body of an unknown woman turns up. Realizing that her killer must be one of their group, the men are gripped by paranoia as each one suspects another. Friendships are tested, loyalties are questioned, and marriages crumble while fear and suspicion run rampant.

2. Donnie Darko (2001)

After narrowly escaping a bizarre accident, a troubled teenager is plagued by visions of a man in a large rabbit suit who manipulates him to commit a series of crimes.

3. The Boy (2016)

A young American named Greta (Lauren Cohan) takes a job as a nanny for an 8-year-old boy in a remote English village. To her surprise, Greta learns that the child of her new employers is a life-size doll. They care for the doll as if it was human, which helps the couple to cope with the death of their own son 20 years earlier. When Greta violates a list of strict rules, a series of disturbing and inexplicable events bring her worst fears to life, leading her to believe that the doll is alive.

4. The Lovely Bones (2009)

After being brutally murdered, 14-year-old Susie Salmon (Saoirse Ronan) watches from heaven over her grief-stricken family (Mark Wahlberg, Rachel Weisz) -- and her killer (Stanley Tucci). As she observes their daily lives, she must balance her thirst for revenge with her desire for her family to heal.

5. The Strangers: Prey at Night (2018)

Mike and his wife Cindy take their son and daughter on a road trip that becomes their worst nightmare. The family members soon find themselves in a desperate fight for survival when they arrive at a secluded mobile home park that's mysteriously deserted -- until three masked psychopaths show up to satisfy their thirst for blood.

6. Me Before You (2016)

Young and quirky Louisa "Lou" Clark (Emilia Clarke) moves from one job to the next to help her family make ends meet. Her cheerful attitude is put to the test when she becomes a caregiver for Will Traynor (Sam Claflin), a wealthy young banker left paralyzed from an accident two years earlier. Will's cynical outlook starts to change when Louisa shows him that life is worth living. As their bond deepens, their lives and hearts change in ways neither one could have imagined.

7. Monster House (2006)

No adults believe three youths' (Mitchel Musso, Spencer Locke, Sam Lerner) assertion that a neighboring residence is a living creature that means them harm. With Halloween approaching, the trio must find a way to destroy the structure before innocent trick-or-treaters meet ghastly ends.

8. What Happened To Monday (2017)

In a world where families are allowed only one child due to overpopulation, resourceful identical septuplets must avoid governmental execution and dangerous infighting while investigating the disappearance of one of their own.

8. Father Of The Year (2018)

When a drunken debate between two college graduates about whose father would win in a fight is taken seriously by their dads, jobs are lost, relationships ruined, and best friends come of age as they come to grips with the identity of their fathers.

9. The Last Song (2010)

Unruly New York teen Ronnie Miller is angered to learn that she and younger brother Jonah are being sent to stay with their father for the summer. The talented young pianist is already grappling with her mother over her refusal to attend the prestigious Juilliard music school, and is in no mood to spend the holidays away from her friends in a small Southern beach town.

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nut-in-me-jojo · 2 years

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Always Will Be - Chp.5

Pairing: Yan!Gyutaro x Fem!Reader

Chapter: 5

Series Warnings: NSFW, extreme depictions of death, extreme violence, dead dove don’t eat, forced relationship, yandere, non/dubious consent, kidnapping, degradation, slut shaming, stockholm syndrome, poverty, dacryphilia, misogyny, dumbification, (If you don't like dark yandere's this story isn't for you.)

Word Count: 4K

Summary: Gyutaro has lived for over a century now, still plagued by memories of the past and haunted by its ghost. You are one of his only two regrets.

Author Notes: Hi guys, I’m back! So real quick, I’m letting you know right now this particular chapter has graphic depictions of death! So proceed at your own caution! Enjoy!

Chapter song:

Gyutaro laid nearly restless in his shared bed with Daki. Still tossing and turning as his thoughts were clouded by images of his encounter with you earlier. He poured himself into every word you had said, wondering if they were real and meant what he had hoped to be true for so long now; only to doubt himself immediately after. He was reading too much into it, he’d tell himself.

This could all be nothing after all. Just one giant whopping coincidence. And he was likely a fool for getting his hopes up over something that was deemed “impossible.”

But then again, didn’t he used to think demons were “impossible” too? Now here he was, the embodiment of a mere “story” people tell their children to make them behave. So why would the idea of reincarnation be only a pipe dream?

Eventually, sleep found the troubled demon and like always in recent days, he had a dream.

A warm breeze was at Gyutaro’s back but a wetness encased his legs, the loud humming of cicadas filled his ears as well as the sound of steady flowing water. It must be summer time, he guessed.

Once his vision cleared he could see that his assumption was correct, and the sight of the river sourced the sounds of water. It was the three of them again; himself, his kid sister, and Yuna. All of them sitting along the river side with himself in the middle, legs dangling into the cooled water.

It looked as though the sun was about to set, a beautiful sight really, perhaps that’s what they had all come to watch. Well, maybe for the elder two, but Ume seemed to be interested in even prettier things.

“Look! I can see myself!” She chimed, enthralled by her reflection that was somewhat visible through the steady and sure flow of the river.

“Heheh, I can too.” Beamed Yuna.

Gyutaro glances to his own reflection only to grimace at the sight of himself. His blotted and ugly complexion still visible to him even through the darkened water. The young boy had not yet found pride in his shocking appearance that would one day strike fear into the hearts of men.

One glimpse and the urge to bury himself somewhere deep in the ground was overwhelming. Where no one and nothing, including himself, would ever be able to look at his hideous face again. No one to remind him of how disgusting and worthless he was. He’d stay buried in that dirt forever if he could.

His body moved on its own as he retracted from the water, standing up to move a few feet back.

“Gyu-Chan?” Yuna called over her shoulder after him, concern peppered in her tone.

“I’m fine, my feet are just getting waterlogged.” He quickly lied.

But by Yuna’s expression, she didn’t buy it. And as usual, Ume was oblivious to all around her. Far too absorbed in her own little world that spun on her own terms.

“Where are the fireflies?! You said there would be fireflies tonight, Yu-Chan!!” Ume fussed.

“I said I think there would be fireflies tonight. The sun hasn’t even gone down yet, Ume-Chan.” Yuna reasoned back calmly, deciding to leave Gyutaro be for now.

“I’m tired of waiting! I wanna see them NOW!” Ume griped impatiently.

“Oh come on, you know they have to wait for it to get dark so they can glow better! They’re still getting ready for us, so let’s play in the water some huh?” Yuna tried her best to pacify the bratty little girl before slipping in about waist deep into the river.

“Oi! Don’t go too far, I’m not gonna come save you if you get pulled into a current!” Gyutaro barked out from his spot on the river bank.

“What are you, an adult? Telling me what to do? Haha! Come on Ume, come swim with me!” Yuna spurred on.

“Hey-!!” Gyutaro tried to yell out now that his sister was getting involved only to be interrupted by the sound of splashing as Ume eagerly yet clumsily lumbered in after Yuna into the river.

“Hey! I meant what I said, I’m not gonna come help you if you drown!” Her brother went on with his warning.

“Oh please, like I’d ever let us drown.” Yuna dismissed as they waded deeper into the water.

“You better not or I’ll kill you!!” Gyutaro yelled after them.

“Gonna be a little hard to kill me if I’ve already drowned to death!!” Yuna teases him.

“Fine! Then I’ll save you just so I can kill you myself!” He roared from the shore.

“Ooooooh, we better be careful Ume-Chan, he sounds serious.” She mocked. “It’s fine if I drown, but he really might kill me if you drown so stay close to me ok?” Yuna giggles.

“But I don’t want you to drown Yu-Chan!!” Ume exclaims worriedly.

“Relax, no one’s going to, I know what I’m doing!” Yuna reassured the little one.

Gyutaro watched on from the sidelines as the two splashed around and played in the water, too afraid to draw closer in fear his reflection would break his heart again. But worry began to overtake him as the sun finally set to the west.

“Ok that’s enough! It’s dark now, it's dangerous out there!” Gyutaro shouted at the two careless kids.

“I’m coming, Oni-Chan!” Ume surprisingly obeyed as she doggy-paddled towards the shore.

But Yuna faltered in her own paddling as she felt her toes graze something. “Ooh! Wait, Ume-Chan! I feel something in the water!”

“What is it?!” Ume asked excitedly, her attention already being dragged from her brother's commands.

“I don’t know, I can just barely feel it but I think it’s something good, let me try and get it!” Yuna called out before taking a deep breath and plunging underwater.

“What the hell is she doing?!” Gyutaro calls to his sister.

“She said she wants something in the water!” Ume relayed back.

“That fucking idiot!” Gyutaro seethed through his teeth as he stalked to the water, no longer caring about his reflection as he egged on his sister to swim faster before pulling her up by her wet kimono onto the shore.

“I almost got it!” Yuna came up to yell, taking another breath and diving back under before Gyutaro could even protest.

The siblings watched on anxiously as Yuna took a little too long for comfort to retrieve her newfound treasure from the river.

“Oni-Chan, where is she? Did she die?” Ume wondered aloud, voice shaky.

“That stupid girl better not have!” Gyu-Chan hissed before stomping back towards the water, his foot sending splashes flying as it landed in his pursuit of his reckless friend. “I told you I wasn’t gonna save you if you-!” He got out just as Yuna resurfaced.

“I got it! I got it!!” Yuna cheered as she swam straight to Gyutaro, though she seemed to have trouble with whatever was in her hand, prompting the boy to meet her half way in the water.

“This had better be something good, you almost made Ume cry!” He spat.

“She’s not gonna cry when she sees this!” Yuna declared, yanking her treasure up to finally present it.

A glass jar. To most, this would be nothing but the garbage it actually was; but to the three penniless street rats it was a treasure indeed.

“Now she has something to catch fireflies with! Or to collect water! And if it breaks, then I have glass to put in my slingy thingy to kill rats with!” Yuna drived on.

Gyutaro takes the glass before pulling Yuna up to her feet, she struggles for balance against the river's flow and his arm instinctively snakes around her waist to steady her against himself. His baby blues trained on the retrieved jar in his hand, inspecting it for cracks but he found none. What a lucky find.

“Maybe you’re not so stupid after all.” He mutters out for only her to hear, making her beam at him.

“A jar! A jar! We got a jar!!” Ume hurrahed from the shore, ecstatically bouncing on the balls of her feet as Gyutaro began guiding the two of them back up to meet his sister.

“Alright,” Yuna started as the trio trekked on in search of the fireflies. “They should be just over this hill, they really like this field.” She informed Ume.

“I wanna race!” Ume challenges the two as they came to the foot of the hill.

“Ooh good idea, Gyu-Chan are you gonna race with us?” Yuna petitioned.

“Why bother? I’m just gonna beat you guys.” He smirked.

“Don’t be a butt!” Yuna rebuked.

“Yeah Oni-Chan, don’t be a butt!” Ume backed up.

“Fine, but don’t cry when you lose.” Gyutaro taunted again before readying himself for take off and the others followed suit.

“Get ready, set...go!” Yuna sounded off before the three took off running uphill.

Gyutaro and Yuna were neck and neck, leaving little Ume in their dust.

“Wait! Wait!” She tried to protest as her imminent loss became clear to her, but the older two didn't look back as their competition between each other took precedence.

Yuna was trying her hardest to keep up, but Gyu-Chan had always surprisingly been the most athletic, the strongest and fastest of the three. So while Yuna struggled, her competitor did not. The same smirk from the start of their race still etched on his face as they sprinted side by side until they both made it to the top of the hill.

Panting, Yuna grabbed her knees as they crossed the make-believe finish line. “Who *pant* won?”

“Hard to say, but since you’re out of breath and I’m not I’d say I’m the winner.” He teased.

“Nuh uh! No!” Yuna denied him, before turning back to the youngest who was still struggling to make it uphill. “Ume, did you see who won?”

However, Ume couldn’t care less about the winner since it clearly wasn’t her. “No fair! No fair! My legs are littler than yours!!” She tried to argue her case.

“Don’t be such a baby, it was your idea to race.” Gyutaro snubbed the sore loser as she finally met them at the top.

“I should be given a head start! Because I-!“ Ume got out before Yuna grabbed her hand and pointed to the lit up field before them.

“Look! I was right!” Yuna declared, and right she was. The fireflies were in full swing on this summer night, floating around aimlessly amid the tall and overgrown grass of the clearing. And the race was quickly forgotten as Ume stood star struck at the sight.

“Come on, what’re we waiting for?” Yuna laughed as she began to walk downhill.

Yuna spent the night wandering behind a frolicking Ume who plucked as many lightning bugs from the air and grass that her little hands could reach. Yuna dutifully followed with the new jar, keeping a hand placed over the top so none of Ume’s prized catches could escape.

Meanwhile, Gyutaro only watched, gathering leaves and vines that he could craft into a makeshift lid for the jar.

Once Ume had finally determined that she’d had enough, her brother and Yuna worked together to seal up the jar. But not without a rogue firefly escaping its glass prison. It flew up and almost out of reach but Gyutaro was quicker. He snatched up the fleeing bug before shoving it in his mouth.

“Ew!!! Oni-Chan that was MY firefly!!” Ume shrieked while Yuna only chuckled.

“Shut up, if you guys were smarter you’d eat a couple of these too. They’re snacks, not just play things.” Gyutaro grumbled between crunches of the insect.

Yuna could tell Ume was still fuming, and as always she was quick to try and diffuse it. “It’s ok, you’ve still got a lot in here, look.” She stated as she finished wrapping up the jar. “Now you’ve got a lantern!”

Ume giddily took the jar from Yuna before violently shaking it. The poor bugs inside getting battered around in the process.

“Hey now, be careful. If you kill them all you won’t have your light anymore.” Yuna coached gently.

“‘Kay!” Was all Ume said as she paraded through the grass with her new toy.

Gyutaro was now plucking any “snacks” that came whizzing past him as Yuna turned to him.

“Gyu-Chan, is it safe for us to be out here?” She asked a bit nervously.

“Not really, but nowhere is really safe for us so why ask?” He answered nonchalantly.

“No I mean...are any demons gonna get us?”

“Tch, you believe in that stupid stuff?” Gyutaro dismissed.

“Well...I hear grown-ups talk about it. They say you shouldn’t be out at night or a demon will get you.” She further tried.

“Grown-ups say a lot of things that aren’t true. We’ve always been out at night and no demons ever ate us so they’re all full of shit.”

“Or maybe we’re just lucky…”

One glance at her face and the future debt collector knew that his friend seemed genuinely worried by the possibility of monsters. “Don’t worry, I’ve got my scythe.” He tried to offer in comfort.

“That wouldn’t be enough.”

“Well it’s what we got.” He deadpanned.

Yuna rolled her eyes at him before deciding to give up, there was nothing more she could say or do after all.

At last, Ume had tuckered herself out from all that running and screaming. She laid sleeping in the grass beside Gyutaro and Yuna who were still awake.

“Gyu-Chan, you got upset earlier when we were sitting at the river. Why?” Yuna probed, never having forgotten that moment from earlier despite what Gyutaro may have wished.

“No I didn’t.” He lied effortlessly.

“Yes you did!” She argued, sitting up now.

“No I didn’t!” Gyutaro tried to deny more forcefully.

“Yes you did!” She pressed on.

The boy knew by now that she wouldn’t give up so he relented. “I just hate seeing myself ok?” He growled in agitation.

It took a second for what he said to make sense to Yuna as she remembered their reflections in the water. “How come?”

“You know why.”

“But there’s nothing to hate so mu-“ She tried to get out.

“There’s plenty to hate!!” He shouted, yet Ume didn’t stir at all.

“But I don’t hate anything about you.” Yuna went on calmly.

“Who cares what you think! You’re not the one who has to walk around looking like this!” He hissed.

Yuna was silent for a bit before speaking again. “I know it doesn’t matter what I think, but I think you’re beautiful Gyu-Chan.”

Now it was Gyutaro’s turn to sit up, anger spiking him on. “How can you look me in my face and say that to me! Why do you always lie and say I’m not ugly when everyone else does!”

“Grown-ups say a lot of things that aren’t true.” She parroted back. “Haven’t you heard that “beauty is in the eye of the beholder?”

Gyutaro’s face only scrunched further in frustration. “You’re either blind like your mom or just stupid, there’s nothing beautiful about me or these god damn marks on my face!”

“Is that what you hate? Your marks?” Yuna smiles at him, her hand reaching out to trace over the loathed black splotches that littered his face.

Gyutaro was still mad, she could feel the heat of his anger radiating through his skin to her fingertips. Her touch made him stiffen, he didn’t like how his birthmarks were under her microscope but he did like the gentleness she offered that was so rare for him.

“You know what else I’ve heard? They say that when you’re born with spots on you, those are where angels kissed you before they sent you here.”

Gyutaro’s same irritated mug returned to him. “You made that up! Demons aren’t real and neither are angels! Why would they kiss me all over just to send me to this shithole?”

“Maybe they knew how hard you’d have it so they gave you extra love.” She giggled. “Or maybe, I was the angel that kissed you.”

Gyutaro shot her a quizzical look before she went on. “It makes sense, you were born before me I think!”

“Well I wish you hadn’t! They make me look dirtier than I already am!” He spat.

“Well, I’m glad I did. I love them. ‘Cause they make you look more handsome than you already are.” She smiled before laying back down into the grass.

Gyutaro was at a loss, unsure of what to say, so he laid back down beside her as well. He still hated himself of course, but the new concept behind his despised marks somehow made them easier to carry.

Yuna cuddled closer into him; which he did not fight. “Gyu-Chan, can we get married someday?” She yawned out.

The jarring question was almost enough to make him shoot upright again had she not been laying so comfortably on his shoulder. “Wh-Why would you ask me that?!” He moved to the defensive, surely this was just another one of her jokes.

“Why not? Got someone else you’d rather marry?” She countered.

“N...No.”

“Me neither.” She grinned sleepily.

“That’s a lie, you’re pretty, you could marry anyone you wanted to. We’ll grow up and you’ll forget all about me.” He went on, his heart sinking at the reality of his own claims.

“Not in a million, billion, trillion years.” She assured as her arm wrapped around him to pull him closer. “We’re gonna grow up and get out of here. Then we can leave and Ume-Chan will marry a nice man and we’ll have a whoooole house to ourselves so we can have babies.”

“B-BABIES?!”

“Shhhh, you’ll wake her up.” She shushed through chuckles. Though Gyutaro only stared at her like she had grown a second head.

“Goodnight, Gyu-Chan.” She whispered before kissing his blackened cheek.

Gyutaro laid there spinning yet perfectly still. Why in God’s name would she ever want to marry -much less reproduce- with him? And why was she delusional enough to think they’d ever have their own house. She’s so stupid!

Well, she certainly seemed to believe that they would. And Gyutaro suddenly felt the need to make that a reality for her. He didn’t know why, but ever since he had met her he’d always had this innate need to show up for her and be for her. Once Ume was born, this same purpose had doubled for him.

If that’s what she said she wanted, it was up to him to provide that. That’s what he’d always done. Always had been. Always will be.

Suddenly it was morning again, the sirening sound of Ume’s wailing waking the elder two up. Gyutaro quickly deduced he must still be in a dream since the sun wasn’t burning him alive.

Ume sat hunched over, clutching the jar in her hands, the once dazzlingly glowing insects now laid lifeless and piled at the bottom. Yuna crawled from her spot to crouch beside Ume, her hands caressing through her snowed locks as Gyutaro rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“Aw don’t cry, Ume-Chan. It was just their time to go. Good things can’t last forever...right, Gyu-Chan?”

As Gyutaro opened his eyes again, bile rised in his throat at the sight.

Yuna was no longer a young child, she was older. Her clothes had been stripped from her, leaving her naked. Her hair was blood soaked and matted over, her facial features almost indistinguishable from all the liquid crimson that coated them. Her body now covered head to toe in slices that ranged in both size and depth. The hand that still patted Ume’s head leaked more of the same crimson into Ume’s white tresses. Her hands were now fingerless; having been severed off.

But Gyutaro’s eyes remained glued to the katana blade that impaled her through the chest. Suddenly, the firefly field was gone. Only darkness surrounded the two of them as she stood just a foot in front of his face. The protruding blade in her chest grazing his own ever so lightly, hauntingly with the same gentleness she had shown to his birthmarks.

“Where were you, Gyu-Chan?” She spoke evenly, her voice still resembling that of the little girl he had just been playing with. Now that she was close, her gaping and slit jugulars were more visible as they oozed blood down her collarbone. So deep, she looked to be nearly decapitated.

“I-I-I was-“ He got out shakily, all the air in his lungs had been voided. For the first time in his renewed life; Gyutaro was horrified by something other than “that man.”

“WHERE WERE YOU?!” Her younger and older forms voices now converging as she bellowed from all around, her arms wrapping around his neck before slamming herself into him, the blade piercing through him as she embraced him. And the pain was so real and much worse than it should have been. His clawed hands went to push her off of him, but his demon strength was missing, arms feeling like limp noodles as he tried in vain to free himself from her.

“It should have been you. It should have been you. It should have been you. IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN YOU!!!!” That same mixture of ages chanted, the shared sword twisting in and out of both their chests with each word of hers. Gyutaros cries of agony punctuating them further.

“Isn’t that what you said when you found me, Gyu-Chan?” The purely little girl’s voice asked as she stared back into his bloodshot gaze, crimson leaking between teeth and over her busted lips.

“Oni-Chan!! ONI-CHAN!! Wake up!! You’re scratching yourself again!!!” Came Daki’s voice, saving him from what Gyutaro would describe as the closest thing to hell.

He sat up right with a jolt as he woke in his own body again, nearly clashing foreheads with Daki in the process. He sat there coughing and sputtering and panting as he struggled between breaths before coughing turned into gagging and he vomited on the floor just beside their bed.

“Oni-Chan!!” Daki cried out, rushing to his side as he heaved up scraps of humans. Her hands patting and rubbing at his back in soothing circles as he spilled out the contents of his stomach. Once he seemed to have gotten out the last of it, she spoke again. “Are you ok?” Her tone surprisingly not holding that of disgust nor anger.

“Yeah.” He mumbled plainly, spitting some last bits of gunk out his mouth.

“Why are you throwing up? Did you eat human food?” Her voice now shifting back to her more true self, as it became slightly more accusational.

Gyutaro knew it was time to lie again even if his mind was still reeling from his nightmare. “Yeah...I had some saké last night.”

“Why would you do that??”

“I just...wanted to blend in. I only had a little bit, I didn’t think I’d get this sick from it. Listen, don’t worry about me, I'm alright.” He further lied.

“Well, you’d better clean up your mess. I did it for you last time Oni-Chan but I’m not going to clean up puke! And hurry up! It stinks!” She ruled, now turning even further back into her real self.

But Oni-Chan had decided that he had more pressing matters to attend to than adhering to his spoiled sister’s demands as he took off running out of the hideout.

“ONI-CHAN, YOU COME BACK HERE NOW!! Oni-Chan! ONI-CHAN?! UGHHHHHHAGHHHHH!!!” He heard her rage from behind, but he couldn’t be bothered to care about her wrath he would surely face once he returned. Right now, he had to see for himself that she was ok. That you were ok.

That it had all just been a nightmare and nothing more. That his Yuna was still safe in the house that stood just above him. That she didn’t hate him. That she was alive and well and had no memory of what he had let come to pass all those years ago.

You would not believe your eyes! If ten million firefliiiiiiies!

Sorry, I had to lmfao.

Anyway, I hope everyone enjoyed this one!

Chapter 6

#yandere gyutaro #yandere demon slayer #kny gyuutaro #gyutaro shabana #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #kimetsu no yaiba gyuutarou #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer x female reader #Spotify

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