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meownotgood · 3 months

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under the influence / hayakawa aki

When Aki gets dragged to the most popular strip club in Tokyo in hopes it'll help him "de-stress", against all odds, you help him do just that. In return, he finally cures your itch for something more.

CHAPTER THREE — EPILOGUE

pairing: hayakawa aki x fem!reader

word count: 5.4k

tags (for this chapter): 18+, love confessions, just the soft end to you and aki's story <3

masterlist.

read on ao3

this work contains explicit content intended for 18+ individuals. please read the tags and do not interact if you are a minor.

Rain taps against the roof and the windows of Aki's car, decorating the glass in running beads of water, filling your ears with a low, rhythmic drone. The night sky is dark, the blurred lights of the city shimmer in puddles and the droplets on the windshield before the wipers push them away. Silence, and then the hum of the wipers. The lull of the car engine, and the continuous plop of raindrops. Silence, hum.

It's starting to kill you, really. You have your head propped up on your hand, your elbow resting on the edge of the window. You drum your fingers against your cheek, rolling your shoulders back awkwardly. You're staring at the streetlamps as they pass, because the thought of looking at Aki has you far too flustered right now.

He hasn't spoken much since he picked you up, just a few words as you were heading out the door, and then a couple more as he was starting the car. You complimented his outfit — a nice blue dress shirt with the first few buttons undone. He'd changed out of his work uniform and into something nicer, which you found pretty cute. He offered you his jacket from the backseat, to keep you warm while the car was heating up. You took it graciously, wrapping his jacket around your shoulders and burying your nose in the smooth fabric, feeling yourself enveloped in his crisp, familiar scent. And then, silence.

You want to say something to break the tension. From the few secret glances you've taken at him, Aki doesn't seem awkward; he might just be thinking. Or perhaps he wants to speak, the problem is he can't come up with anything to say. You're in that same boat, unfortunately.

You could tell him how you're feeling, that'd be a start. You're feeling so many things. You're nervous. Eager. Impatient. Once you're at your apartment, you can settle your nerves with some of your favorite wine, but you're out of luck until then.

He's probably nervous, too. It might be part of the reason why he's been so quiet. You've missed him, but he already knows that much. You want to ask him something just to hear his voice again. You want to know more of what work's been like, because it makes you feel special knowing those things he isn't supposed to be telling you. You want him to talk to you about the stupid pleasantries neither of you had any time for before. Do you like this kind of weather? What do you want to eat tonight? Well, you've got all the time in the world now, you just aren't sure what you should do with it.

Aki's car smells fancy and clean. If you didn't know any better, you'd assume it was brand new. Everything inside is totally spotless. When you close your eyes, focusing on the sound of the rain, you swear the downpour seems to be growing lighter. It echoes in the muffled sound of the car sloshing through water, in the faint drizzle hitting the roof.

Your heart feels heavy, in a warm, but safe way, held in the hands of the rain and in Aki's comforting presence. Even with the silence, you still feel at home.

You can't help but wonder what he's thinking about, your mind keeps coming back to it. Turning, cracking your eyes open the slightest amount, you steal the smallest glance of him out of the corner of your eye. Aki has his gaze focused on the road. His fingers tap against the steering wheel, much in the same anxious way you were tapping yours. He has an expression you can't read, but that's normal of him.

Try as you might, you've got no idea what's going through that complicated head of his.

So, you give up. You bring your gaze back towards the window. You make do with the silence, leaning your forehead gently on the glass. The car slows to a stop as the streetlight ahead flickers to red. Raindrops tap the windshield, and the wipers do their job. Silence, hum.

"I think I love you."

Oh. I think I love you. That's something you didn't see coming.

Okay, you really thought that maybe, just maybe, Aki was done with blurting out shit you couldn't have expected, and maybe you were done with not being able to handle when his words go soft — but clearly, you were definitely, totally wrong.

Your pulse is sent running wild, hammering in your chest, consuming every inch of you as a thick mess of thorns and roses in your throat. Warmth radiates through your veins, you're choked up. When you whip your head back towards Aki, he's got the same steady expression, his eyes are focused on the road ahead of him. He grabs the stick shift, pulling it into place without looking away.

The car begins moving again.

"You- Why-" You can't form coherent thoughts, nor coherent sentences. You shake your head, laughing a little; in disbelief or to ease the tension, you aren't sure, "Why are you telling me that right now?"

"It was getting too quiet," Aki replies, matter-of-fact. His voice is as smooth as ever. God, his heart is pounding too, though, "And I'm tired of holding it in. I thought you'd want to know."

Your foot taps nervously against the car's floor.

"Of course I'd want to know," You answer, glancing down at your hands in your lap. You've laced your fingers together, and you're fiddling with your thumbs, "I just… you think? You said you think you love me, what does that even mean?"

"No, I do," Aki corrects, his brows pinching, eyes narrowing. "I do love you. I'm certain. I've thought about it ever since then, ever since I met you."

Ever since then. It feels like that night was so long ago, even though you can remember the details as if they happened yesterday. Does Aki remember them, too?

Your voice lowers in volume considerably. "Is that really true?"

"Yes, and I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you sooner. Work has held me up so much," Aki explains, "But I knew I couldn't wait any longer, I had to come see you once I realized how I felt. That's why I showed up at the club tonight. My division was supposed to go a couple cities over for an extraction mission today but… I canceled. So I could come tell you."

"This is-" You swallow, your nerves feel like they're tingling, like your arms and your shoulders and your spine have nervousness dancing across them, hand in hand. You pull his jacket around you, balling up your fists in the fabric. The rich scent of his cologne surrounds you, stifles you. "This is what you were waiting to tell me, right? What you were going to say back at the club, before you stopped?"

"Yes. Was it not what you were expecting?"

You fiddle with his hair tie on your wrist, pulling it, and then letting go, making it snap against your skin. "I don't know. I guess it… It wasn't, no."

Aki exhales a slow, steady breath. He keeps both hands on the steering wheel to keep them from shaking, gripping so tightly his knuckles turn white.

"I mean, I want something with you Aki, I do," You're continuing, stumbling through your words, and he lets his grip loosen slightly. "It's just complicated. I've thought about it too, you know. And I want to make things work. But you're-"

"A devil hunter." He says, completing your sentence.

"Yeah. You are." You let go of a sigh. There's disappointment laced in your tone, a weightiness Aki can feel in his shoulders when he hears you speak, "You're busy doing important things, killing devils. Don't you have a goal, to kill the Gun? I know that's important to you, I wouldn't want to get in your way."

"You won't." Aki replies sternly. "And I'm not always going to be busy. I'll make time for you. Missions won't hold me up as much anymore once all of this calms down, don't worry." His hands flex, bruised knuckles tensing, "I'll be able to spend time with you every day, if that's what you want. The Gun Devil isn't-"

"You could die, Aki."

Your words cut through him like a knife, making him freeze. His grip tightens on the wheel, his breath momentarily gets caught in his lungs. Worriedly, he glances towards you for a half-second, and he sees you staring at your lap. Your hands are balled up, your eyes are teary. Your voice is weak, and a shaky exhale causes your shoulders to slump. You lean forward as you curl in on yourself.

"You could die, and then it wouldn't matter, I'd never see you again. Do you understand that?" Your jaw clenches, your fingernails dig into your own palm, "I don't want to lose you. I was really worried when you were gone for so long, Aki. I can't get attached to you if you're just going to… If anything happened to you, I wouldn't…"

Aki listens as you trail off. He grabs the stick shift again, pulling it, and he focuses on what's ahead of him.

He understands what you're feeling now, he knows it all too well. He knows what it's like to lose someone. Even just the anticipation of losing them, the thought that they might slip from your grasp one day is painful in itself. He's lost everything he ever cared for, over and over again, and he doesn't want that for you. He won't let you experience a feeling so lonesome.

The truth is, he's never placed much importance on his own well-being. He'd accomplish his goals, or he'd die trying, that was the only promise he allowed himself to make. But things are different now.

If it means breaking your heart, he doesn't care what he has to do, he won't be letting it shatter. He'll be safe, he'll keep you close. He won't make the same mistakes. In the end, even if things don't work out, if you'll give him one more chance to hold you, to understand you, to love you — whatever sacrifice he has to make, he will, and it'll be worth it. For you, he'd offer himself up to the altar.

Aki stays silent for a while, thinking. You sniffle, and he gnaws frustratingly on his bottom lip.

"I'll pull back more, then."

That gets you to finally look up at him. Aki watches in the corner of his vision as you wipe your eyes with the back of your hand. Speaking softly, gentleness in his tone, he continues, "I'll stop fighting, stop accepting missions, stop killing devils. I'll pull back however much you want me to. However much will keep the both of us safe. So don't cry, okay?" He exhales, his expression growing complicated, "And I want you to know I'm done. I'm not going after the Gun anymore."

This time, when you look at him again, your eyes are going wide. On your face, there's only pure, clear shock.

You shake your head, and you stammer, "You don't… You don't have to do that, just for me."

"I'm not. Believe me," Aki takes a quick, apologetic glance towards you. Then, he looks back at the road. "You're a big part of this, don't get me wrong. It wouldn't be fair to you if I told you I had feelings for you, and then went and threw my life away. That's what the expedition they're planning is, a suicide mission. Honestly, for me, this has been a long time coming."

Still staring up at him, your eyes scan his face. He looks somber; columns of light travel over him as the car passes streetlamp after streetlamp, the glowing lights of the city reflect in his eyes, his earrings. The bridge of his nose crinkles for a moment. He stretches his fingers until the joints pop, he takes a deep breath in.

"I'm tired, to tell you the truth." He says, his voice steady. His words are honest, comfortingly genuine. "I've been killing devils for years. Most of my colleagues didn't even last a few months. When they quit or they died, I kept going. I ignored anyone who tried to talk me out of it, I didn't listen to anyone's advice or my own doubts. I knew the path I was going down, but I thought this was what I had to do. Otherwise everything I'd been fighting for would be a waste."

He lets go of the breath he was holding, nice and slowly. "But I was wrong. I want to change things, I don't want to toss my life away anymore- and for what? For a job that doesn't care, for a goal I can't accomplish? There's people I care about now, a life I want to protect. I can't be so careless anymore."

You're silent, and Aki allows his shoulders to slump, unclenching his jaw, relaxing his grip on the steering wheel.

"I want to make you happy," He says, his voice noticeably quieter than before. Now, his sentences are smooth, each one dripping with honey: "I want you to know how much you mean to me, because you mean so much, you really do. You're the one who helped me realize all of this. You're the reason I… I changed."

He's right. He isn't the man you first met. The man who was devoted to his mission and his mission alone, who was prepared to fight until there's nothing left of him — but this, this is the Aki you knew. This is the kind, determined, lovesick man you couldn't resist falling for, even when you tried. Love has always defined him. He has love in his very bones and blood, in his touch when he held you, in his lips when he kissed you. You only needed him to realize what he wanted, what he deserves.

After all, this fate is what the two of you were always destined for, wasn't it?

Aki hadn't expected a proper response, he'd hardly realized how much he'd been talking until the car fell back into silence. He grits his teeth slightly, he thinks of apologizing. Or of stopping the car in the middle of the road to turn and give you a damn hug already — but ultimately, he relaxes at the sound of your laughter, he loosens up when he glances at you and sees you smiling.

"You're sweet," You hum, leaning back into your seat, "Way too sweet. You're really such a sweet-talker. Did you know that?"

"No, I didn't." Aki grins to himself. He almost misses his next turn when he's lost in thought for too long, and as his hands are turning the steering wheel, he's asking, "Back at the nightclub, there was something you wanted to tell me as well, wasn't there?"

"Ah," You tut playfully, nodding, "You're right. I did plan on telling you something."

"I told you what I had to say. It's only fair if you tell me your secret too. As long as you still want to, of course."

"I don't really think it's much of a secret." You cross your arms over your chest, your cheeks hurt from smiling, "It is important, though. Super important. It might make our whole relationship different from now on. I'm not sure if I should even say it, but here goes. Back then, I was just… y'know. Going to tell you I'm in love with you."

Aki softens, from his body to his core. His hands relax, he breathes a small tch sound and reaches down to half-heartedly push at your knee.

"Stop," He huffs, the edges of his voice made tender by a laugh; the sound is simply delightful, "You had me worried, seriously."

The back of your neck seems hot, and your head is fuzzy, filled with the same storm clouds as the ones that dot the sky. You fall silent for a while, staring up at him, admiring the gentle look of his face, the hazy glimmer in his eyes. The rain drums calmly, woven into you, your heartbeat a steady, anxious patter.

Aki glances towards you for a second, "There was something else I planned to ask you. Once I told you how I felt."

"Uh-huh?" You reply, hiding your emotions behind a raised brow, "What is it?"

"I want to get out of the city for a while," He tells you, "And I want you to come with me. I thought we could plan a trip for a few days out. I still have all my paid leave days for work. Thought we could go somewhere in Kanagawa, like you wanted to. I can take you to that piercing shop. After that, maybe we can head somewhere remote. I've heard Enoshima is nice this time of year."

You blink. Aki idly drums his fingers against the rim of the steering wheel, and he looks over at you, slightly shaking his head, "There's no need to answer right now, though. I just want you to think about it."

"No, that sounds lovely," You say in response. You're grinning up at him, donning a warm expression he can feel settling in between his ribs, "It'd be really nice to go somewhere with you, take a little vacation, just you and me. I haven't been anywhere like that in forever, actually. It'll feel good to have some time off from work."

Aki explains straightforwardly, "I'll cover the expenses. I was hoping to stay in Enoshima for a few days to a week, depending on what you wanted to do."

"Anything is fine with me. But a whole week would be perfect," You stretch your arms out, as though you can almost taste the relaxation, "A week would give us enough time to decompress. If we could find somewhere quiet to stay, God, that'd be so nice. The city is stifling sometimes, isn't it?"

"It is," Aki agrees, "Especially with how busy Public Safety has been lately."

"I'm sure it's been crazy. You probably need a vacation more than anyone." Sighing, you lean your head against the seat's headrest. "Enoshima sounds nice. I saw a documentary about it one time. I remember thinking how nice it'd be to live there, to hear the ocean every time you wake up. It made me miss when I lived far away from here."

He cocks a brow, "You aren't from the city?"

"No, I moved here for school, way back when. I often wish I didn't. But then I wouldn't have met you."

Contemplating your words for a moment, Aki's lips purse into a tight line.

"I feel I've only grown used to Tokyo," He replies at last; gingerly, as though he's still caught up in what you just said, "I grew up out in the country, I really hated it when I was young. I'd feel depressed whenever I went back to visit my hometown, for a lot of reasons. But it just seemed… lonely. Doesn't help that it's always cold there too. Lonely and freezing, that's my hometown. Sounds like a place anyone would love to be, right?"

Perhaps he does hate it, but it's where he grew up, it's someplace important. You bet if you went together, hands intertwined, bundled up close to keep each other warm, you could make his dreary hometown a whole lot less cold, and a whole lot less lonely.

You huff a small exhale out through your nose. You can't help but laugh a little at Aki's flat attempt at humor. "Oh, for sure. Ugh, I can't stand the cold. It was warm where I grew up, even the cold in Tokyo is hard to manage. One of these winters, I'm definitely going to become a popsicle."

Aki smiles, remarking to himself silently, doting internally on how cute you are. He likes this small talk, he enjoys learning new things about you, no matter how minor they may be. He commits your words to his memory. If you aren't fond of the cold, he'll have to carry his jacket more often, for you.

The car draws to a stop in front of your apartment, and Aki pauses, he clears his throat. He turns towards you, his eyes flickering over you once, twice, before they come to rest on your gaze.

"I'm sorry if I made things complicated." Turning the keys, he switches the car off — leaving only the noise of the rain to fill your ears, tapping in rhythmic whispers against the steel roof.

"You didn't, don't apologize," You reply, shrugging your shoulders, "I'm glad you wanted to talk about things."

"I'm glad you were willing to listen."

You eye him curiously, "Were you expecting my response to be different?"

"I think so, I wasn't sure," Aki frowns slightly, he places his hands in his lap, and he watches fresh droplets cascade down the windshield. "What I said to you is… a lot, probably too much to spring on someone so suddenly. I'm sorry for that. I didn't know how you felt about me, exactly. After I told you my own feelings, I was worried you might not want to talk to me again."

"C'mon, why would I act like that?" You answer, your nose scrunching up, "I do want to talk to you. And I'm serious, I care about you, I really…"

Abruptly, you let yourself trail off. Your expression shifts, you stare into Aki's blue eyes with an adoring look in the back of your own. A flash of love he'd liken to the ache in his chest, or to a fresh, sun-kissed sky. Faintly, you admit, "I really am in love with you."

As much as he wants to speak, he can't help but be utterly quiet for a few long, drawn-out seconds. Aki blinks to stop the world around him from blurring, and you refocus in his vision; your form is the only thing he can see, the only thing he's ever needed.

"I tried to forget you, you know," Aki starts. He faces forward, he speaks almost like he's only talking to himself, "I drowned myself in work for a while. I thought it might be best if we both moved on, if I didn't burden you anymore. But I couldn't forget. I couldn't forget you, or that night, or the way I felt. No matter what I did, I couldn't stop myself from falling for you."

Work was tiresome, it did well to drain his energy, but it never took away the memories of you. It meant nothing to distract himself when your fate was already crossed with his. When love and devotion were potent in his veins, tenderness the only thing left of him. He's felt so much since he met you, emotions he doesn't deserve, warmth he still doesn't understand how to hold. You've made a home in his emptiness, given him something more to live for — How is he supposed to go on, if he can't provide you with the same soft safety?

So he's going to try, truly, and honestly try. Things might not work out as perfectly as he wants them to. He's bound to make mistakes, he knows he has so much left to learn. Love is a concept oh-so foreign to him, but he wants to study how to love, he wants to grow as familiar with it as he is with strife and war and meaninglessness. He wants to discover all that love can be, with you at his side: a star in his palms, a promise of possibilities he's yet to explore.

He'll keep you safe and happy, even if it means he must do so with the last of his breath.

You're quiet, but Aki swears he hears you take a low, hitched breath. Gentler this time, burying his head in his hands with his forehead leant on the steering wheel, he keeps talking, he keeps divulging.

"I didn't know what to do for a while. God, you're really something, you know? You had me lost in my own head for days," He sits up, swallowing the lump in his throat, "I realized after a while that I didn't care what happened next, as long as I could be with you. There's still so much I need to find the time to tell you. There's more I want to experience, so much I want us to do."

When you're relaxing together in Enoshima, he wonders if he'll have time to ask you the dumb things he's been dying to know. No, he definitely will. He wants to know more about the place you grew up, and he doesn't mind telling you more stories from Hokkaido, in turn. Would taking you to Enoshima be considered a date? If it isn't, he wants to plan to take you on one — He'll ask you what restaurants you like to go to, what your favorite kind of flower is.

He doesn't know if he could handle going on a date with you, honestly. He's never done that sort of thing, he knows what they do in movies but those are always exaggerated; should he be extra polite, or be lax about it? Would it be strange to hug you, to kiss you when he first sees you, should you go somewhere casual, somewhere fancy?

Shit, if you were wearing some fancy outfit, a pretty dress with pretty jewelry, maybe even some makeup, there's no way in hell Aki could handle that. You'd look beautiful.

Sighing, Aki tries to relax his clenched jaw, he turns towards you and he meets your eyes. Quietly, with his words full of devotion, he mutters the truth, and all he's ever been yearning to say.

"I want to fall even deeper in love with you."

The way you're staring at him rivals a deer in headlights, except you're shaking with a feeling truly pleasant, and there's warmth in your cheeks, budding flowers in your chest. The tension builds until it's almost palpable, until Aki is huffing awkwardly, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest. He gives you a reassuring glance.

"You don't have to say anything to this," He mumbles, and his tone is low, smooth with his usual seriousness, but his eyes are glimmering. It's as though you can practically feel the affection radiating off of him, like you're the Earth, and he's the sun. "I just… I wanted to explain how I felt. I'm sorry if I said too much."

He doesn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't for you to chime in with a call of his name. "Aki?"

Aki turns towards you, "Yeah?"

And then, faster than he can think, you're closing the distance between him and yourself.

You're clumsily leaning over the small center console, you're grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and you're tugging him in for a kiss that burns, fire on his lips, a raging sea in his chest. But it's soft, you kiss him so softly yet intensely he feels himself crumble from the inside out. His emotions splinter, and you're putting him back together again. Your lips spell onto his own every possible thing he's been waiting to receive.

You kiss him again, you crawl closer until you're settling in his lap, and both hands cradle his face. You brush his bangs behind his ears with your fingertips, and trace his jaw, his ears, the shape of his earrings. Your lips press to his with a tenderness he finds indescribable. You feel like fresh air, you melt him down to mold him as putty in your hands, to make him into a sculpture of your love. His head tilts with your own, he wraps his arm around the small of your back and your mouth on his sends him spinning, reeling.

When you seperate for long enough to gasp, enough to realize your pulse is running wild, and enough for him to speak, he's working his hand up to hold your cheek, he's breathing against your lips, "I forgot how good it feels to kiss you."

From now on, he won't forget. Each press of your lips on his stores in his chest as a faded blur. Your soft sighs against his mouth echo in his eardrums. His fingers run over the delicate shape of your face, and he comes alive on your lips, your soul devouring what remains of his own. He won't make it somewhere more pleasant, there's too much destruction in his bones. But Aki doesn't have to imagine what heaven is like, because he believes he's found it right here.

"Tell me again," You're pleading once you pull away; you meet his eyes, you have his head tilted up, you're pressed close on his lap. And Aki smiles, a devoted, foolish smile. Sounding more teary, you beg this time, "I want to hear you say it again."

"That I love you?" Aki whispers, holding your chin between two of his fingers. "Do you want me to tell you how much I've thought of you, how I missed you every single day we've been apart?"

Leaning in, your head tilts to the side, and he presses a longing kiss over your cheek, "I could tell you how lovely you are, how beautiful I thought you were, even from the moment I saw you," A kiss to your nose, your jaw, the corner of your mouth — kisses alight on your skin like sparks, "Or should I tell you how lucky I am to have met you, how soft you've made me? How badly I wanted to let go of it all, so I could live a normal life with you?"

Your heart is electric.

Aki leans back, your chin still between his fingers. His gaze locks with yours. He's in every shaky breath you take, he's in your veins as they rush with adrenaline. He's on the tip of your tongue in the form of a name you could never forget.

"I-" You stammer, "Aki-"

"Your face is so warm, sweetheart."

The smile he wears is gentle enough to purify you. He holds your cheek in his hand, his palm feels the warmth underneath, and you shiver, from your head to your toes. You've needed this, needed him. And now, you're never going to let him go.

You knew you'd be drawn together once more, you've needed to know you and Aki would be more than two ships that pass in the night. He kept his promise to you, just as you always knew he would. You've crashed into one another again, and this time, you're going to let yourself drown.

You rest your hands on his shoulders, gripping them tight as you try not to shake. Once again, you're the one choked up. There's so many things you want to tell him, but nothing will come out just right.

So you take a shuddery breath, and you ask instead, "Do you really mean that?"

Aki answers with his smile only glowing brighter. "I have all night to prove it to you, don't I?"

Your cheek cupped in his hand, he pulls you in, and you follow along with magnetism.

Finally, he's been given a chance, an opportunity from you to change the path of bloodshed he's been walking. He won't let this go to waste. He can never fix his past mistakes, he can never bring back those he's lost. He doesn't need to. He can dwell in a peaceful life, he has Denji and Power and he has you. No matter what happens, he'll love you without regrets — endlessly, and unwaveringly.

This life hasn't been kind to him. These new memories will be. He'll fill his head with visions of you, with the wind at your backs, and the ocean in his view. The water will wash over your feet. You'll feel the sand underneath.

The salty sea, the beaches of Enoshima and the sight of the sunset over the water, rays of orange and purple and blue, will become his new favorite sight. But when he turns to you, when he sees the smile on your face and the sparkle in your eyes as you look over the water, in your own world, the one he's so desperately wanted to be a part of — In the end, you will become his fondest memory.

You've got plenty of good things ahead of you. You will be the one to breathe him anew.

And as the rain pelts the windows, and the sky collapses in, Aki kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you.

#no tags. just vibes

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slaymitchabernathy · 1 month

Text

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

| this story was inspired by the songs "How Did It End?" & "The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived" by Taylor Swift |

| a companion to 'Pretty' |

Coriolanus holds the single rose in his hand with such vice that the stem has gone limp.

He’s been to enough funerals to know how this goes, what’s expected of him. He attended his little sister’s funeral.

“I’m going to see your sister.”

Those words play over and over in his head while the officiant drones on and on about what an exemplary citizen Soarynn Snow was.

Was any of it true? Any of the time they spent together?

He thinks about all the time he spent with Soarynn. Seven years of life with her. He remembers the day he found out she was ticklish. He tickled her just to hear her laugh, to hear genuine happiness from her. She always seemed so miserable with him even though he’d given her everything she could ever dream of.

Coriolanus thought he had a good grasp on grief. He lived through the war, after all, the Dark Days, and even managed to come out on top. He had the name, the wife, the child. Now two of those are gone.

He had found it extremely difficult to fathom the loss of his own child, his firstborn son. It just didn't seem like something that could happen to him, not when he was on top of the world. Not when they had the nursery all ready, the baby clothes hanging in the closet, the stuffed animals lining the shelves. Soarynn had thrown herself into preparing their son's nursery and transformed the empty space into a warm, loving environment.

They had been so close. So close. But there was a complication, undetected until it was too late and suddenly Coriolanus was receiving phone calls left and right telling him that his wife was found unconscious on their library floor in a pool of her own blood.

Why didn't she call him?

It was a question that plagued his mind as the doctor asked him who they should attempt to save, his son, or his wife.

He chose his wife of course.

Being a father of a dead child was bad enough, but to be a widowed man at such a young age? No. Coriolanus couldn't afford that. He knew their son wouldn't make it into the world alive and if he did then it wouldn't be a pretty sight. Another thing he couldn't afford was having a son who would undoubtedly be the laughingstock of Panem. With the possibility of disfigurements and mental lapses, it was easy for Coriolanus to make the call.

He knew it would devastate Soarynn beyond belief. As much as it terrified her, he knew she wanted to be a mother. She got pregnant rather quickly after their wedding, allowing Coriolanus to confirm once again that Soarynn was of value to him and their family.

He stood out in the hospital hall as they attempted to save his wife. He only caught a small glimpse of them cutting her open before he looked away. He couldn't watch. Then, his son was born.

He didn't make a sound. Stillborns don't cry.

They stitched her up and that was that. One dead child, and one grieving wife.

Coriolanus hadn't known what to do, what to say. Sure, he could be comforting when he needed to be, like when Soarynn had one of her little breakdowns after they had sex. But he was always prepared for those.

How do you prepare for the death of your firstborn child?

So he hadn't said anything, left her to talk with the doctor, and watched the nurses wheel in their dead child in his bassinet for Soarynn to hold for the first and last time. In a way, he was impressed that she even had the strength to do so. He never wanted to hold their son, to see a painful reminder of what could have been.

His curiosity had gotten the best of him once he joined Soarynn's side again, once he saw the pain and sorrow in her eyes. How empty her gaze was.

"What did he look like?" He had asked her, resting a hand on her head.

"He looked like a Snow," she had answered.

And that had been good enough for him.

꧁ ꧂

Coriolanus had however been prepared for the aftermath of their son's death. Only because he knew what it was like, to lose an infant due to unforeseen circumstances. When his baby sister died, his parents were quick to move past it. He felt it was better that way, no need to linger in the past when there was a bright future ahead of them. They could have another child. He'd confirmed that with the doctor before they left. Soarynn wasn't left barren and unable to give him more children and she certainly would give him children in due time.

They'd arrange a small funeral, grieve privately, and more forward publicly. Simple as that. He knew his wife could get sentimental, especially over stupid, little things like books and things of that nature. But he didn't need her to get caught up on what could have been.

He expected them to move on.

He didn't expect Soarynn to make a scene in front of their close family and friends before storming out of the penthouse, leaving without so much as a goodbye. Coriolanus had been furious, absolutely furious with her behavior. He wasn't the one who lost their child. He did everything right, everything by the books and still they lost him. It. They lost it.

Then she lost it.

Coriolanus knew where to go, to find her. She went home. He could give her whatever she wanted, fill their penthouse with all her favorite things but it still wouldn't be enough for Soarynn.

Glen had been upset, and understandably so. Coriolanus couldn't imagine the state that Soarynn showed up in and without their child on top of all that. But he was quick to smooth things over, win Glen over once again, and promised to come back in two days to collect Soarynn.

He got a phone call the next morning. He'd been surrounded by family and friends, namely the Creeds and Clemensia who all watched silently as Coriolanus was delivered the news that bore the death of his wife.

"Drowned in the bathtub."

That's what Glen mumbled before hanging up.

Coriolanus didn't know what to say, what to do. How do you drown in the bathtub? He knew enough to know that it had to be done on purpose. This was no accident. Soarynn killed herself.

He got a wide array of reactions when he shared the news. Most were filled with tears and condolences. It felt so strange to him to know that Soarynn wasn't in their room, curled up under the covers with her cat and a book.

She wasn't in the library, sitting in his favorite chair while she looked through old photo albums.

She was gone. How strange to be gone. To end your own life.

He had two funerals to plan now.

He'd only said a few words before disappearing into his room, "We'll tell no one except all of our friends." As far as everyone else was concerned, she died during the miscarriage. Women die all the time giving birth. What makes Soarynn so special?

But she had been special. Hadn't she? She'd been kind, and caring, she would've been a good mother. He'd never know how it would've ended.

But he couldn’t help himself from wondering how it all ended.

Were there signs? Had she cried out for help?

He tore their bedroom apart looking for clues, for something to hold onto, to tie him to her. After hours of endless searching, he finally came across a book he had never seen before, tucked away in their closet in an old shoe box. He’d held the small book in his hands, simply staring at it before he finally gained the courage to open it.

Her diary.

He hung me on his wall. Not literally but it felt like it. It always feels like I’m some animal pelt when he makes me take those pills. Sometimes I wish I were an animal pelt. At least I’d be dead.

It was no wonder she kept this so hidden from him. He would’ve been livid if he found this when she was still alive. How strange to think that Soarynn wasn’t alive anymore. He would never be able to smell the sweet scent of vanilla again without thinking of the girl who sat in front of him in class that year. Little did she know that choosing that seat would cost her life.

He kept reading. There were so many entries, all devastating in their own way.

I wish I could run away. But I can’t, he trapped me. We’re having a baby in eight months. Coriolanus thinks it’ll be a boy, I hope so too for his sake. I don’t think he’d like a girl. Everyone has been congratulating me on the news but they do that a lot. Congratulate me. On the wedding, on the penthouse, on our relationship. If only they knew. He shows me off, loves to do it. I hate it. I hate it here.

He flipped to the end of the diary, not in the mood for her whining and nagging. The last entry was so short, but the way it was written made Coriolanus feel as if his throat was tightening up. It was like she knew he’d find her diary, would read it, would go to the last entry. She sounded so angry.

Were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? Did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed? In fifty years will this be declassified? And you’ll confess why you did it. And I’ll say, “Good riddance.” Cause it wasn’t sexy once it wasn’t forbidden. I would’ve died for your sins instead i just died inside. And you deserve prison, but you won’t get time. You kicked out my stage lights, but you’re still performing. In plain sight you hit. But you are what you did. And I’ll forget you but I’ll never forgive. The smallest man who ever lived.

At six-foot-two and at the top of the world, Coriolanus Snow had never felt so small. And for the first time in a very long time, much like his wife, he broke down.

꧁ ꧂

"If anyone would like to share a memory or a few kind words, please do so now," the officiant says, somberly looking into the massive crowd of Capitol elites who have gathered to honor and mourn the death of Soarynn Snow and her stillborn child.

Coriolanus stares down at the ground, at her coffin. It's black and sleek with roses engraved around it. The proper casket for the wife of a Snow. A smaller one sits next to hers. Their sons.

Coriolanus squeezes the white rose in his hand a little tighter as someone walks up to the front, stepping onto the podium.

"Miss Soarynn was a fine Capitol lady."

Coriolanus looks up to see the doorman to their apartment standing at the microphone, "She always greeted me with a smile, asked how my day was going. She even brought me cookies one day, it...it was my birthday. She was a kind woman and my heart goes out to you Mr. Snow, your wife was a lovely lady."

Coriolanus manages to give the doorman a tight-lipped smile. It's hard to smile with that letter playing over and over in his head, those words haunting him now. Were they all watching him now?

His wife, his son, his sister, his mother-in-law?

He wasn't given much notice once the letter arrived on his doorstep. Glen Nightingale all but stormed into the penthouse, collecting every memory of Soarynn, including the cat. The look Glen had given him was all Coriioanus needed to know that Soarynn had told him everything. Or at least something.

He could feel the hatred radiating off of Glen as they stood next to each other.

"Soarynn Nightingale was too good for this world."

Coriolanus doesn't need to look up to know that Sejanus Plinth has taken to the microphone. "She was too gentle, too kind and trusting and that trust was taken advantage of over and over again by someone she blindly trusted. I hope that she and her son can find rest in the afterlife."

A few more people go up to speak, all noting how kind Soarynn was, how beautiful and gentle that girl was.

Was, was, was.

Eventually, Coriolanus is ushered to the podium. He knows he has to give out somewhat of a statement, he can see all the news outlets at the back of the crowd, eager to hear about the tragic events that have suddenly befallen the Snow family.

He clears his throat before speaking, "My gratitude extends to each and every one of you who has attended the funeral of my wife and son today. My wife was loved by many, my son never got the chance to be loved."

He knows that's not true. Soarynn loved their son before he was born.

"We were blind to unforeseen circumstances. My wife's pregnancy was complicated and in the end, led to a tragic and fatal miscarriage that took the lives of the two people who meant the most to me in the world."

Whispers can be heard throughout the crowd. Some people believe him. Coriolanus has always been good at playing for the cameras, telling people what they want to hear. Other whispers are doubtful of his love for Soarynn and their son.

And he has Glen Nightingale to thank for that. Three days after her death, it came out that Sorynn had filed for divorce. Claiming that she was the victim of domestic abuse, sexual violence, and coercion, and numerous amounts of other accusations that did nothing but taint his reputation.

As if her death wasn't hard enough, Coriolanus now has people coming at him left and right, questioning him and his marriage. His father advised him to keep his head down, to deny such claims, and to continue to share his love and adoration for Soarynn.

He just doesn't know if he has any to give.

"I loved my wife. She was kind and generous, she was a devoted woman who was loyal to her family and her country. She would want us to celebrate her life and our sons, not mourn it."

There, he's told people what they want to hear, and now, he's ready to hear what he wants to hear.

꧁ ꧂

The reception dinner is quiet for the most part, only small conversations take place. Many people have come up to Glen to give their condolences. One wife and one daughter gone. Coriolanus fears that he can now relate to Glen on that level and he so badly wishes that he didn't.

"Do you think you'll ever remarry?"

Coriolanus looks to his left to find Livia Cardew addressing him, her eyes pinning him down. A bit of an inappropriate question to ask at a funeral, especially his wife's funeral but Coriolanus will be damned if he comes off as unpolite by ignoring her question.

"I think right now I need to focus on putting the pieces back together," he answers, ignoring the glare that Glen sends his way.

Livia hums and turns back to her dinner leaving them in another uncomfortable silence. Soarynn certainly left a mess behind for him to clean up. Not only her death but now legal issues as well. What a selfish thing to do.

꧁ ꧂

They opted to leave the casket open for those who wanted a moment alone with Soarynn before they buried her six feet in the ground. Coriolanus had declined to do the same with his son. No one would ever know what he looked like, what he could have looked like. What could have been.

Many people go up to Soarynn, he watches them whisper words they probably don't mean. He doubts most people really knew her. He barely did himself it seems. Eventually, he gathers the courage to see his wife one last time. At least her death wasn't horrendous and she didn't slip her wrists open along with her face. She looks like she's sleeping.

But she'll never wake up.

He leans down until it's just the two of them, not a word between them. She smells like vanilla. Her skin is pale, it lacks the normal tan hue she always had.

"You left me," he whispers, "left me to deal with this mess."

Soarynn doesn't respond.

"You know, I keep going over it in my head. What if I never noticed you? Never took interest in you? Would my life be this fucked if we never met? Do you know Soarynn? Do you know how different things would've been for the both of us? if you're listening from Heaven do me a favor and ask someone up there if they can see, if they can see what it would look like if our paths never crossed. And if they can find something, somewhere where you never ruined my fucking life, you ask them something for me, okay?"

Coriolanus has to force himself to take a deep breath as he whispers to his wife, berating her from the grave.

"How did it end?"

He straightens up, giving Soarynn one last look. She was fun, quiet, and obedient for the most part. She tried to be good for him, and he had to give her credit for that.

Her hair has been done in curls, her makeup is light and her lips are a soft pink even though he knows that under all that makeup she's pale and her lips are blue.

She looks so pretty.

| Final Part |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

48 notes · View notes

achaotichuman · 6 months

Note

An AU where tamlin (disguised as female) and rhysand fall in love tthen tamlins like wait i have to tell u something then rhys finds outs hes tamlin and undergoes a sexuality crisis

YES, I LOVE THIS PROMPT. Don't know why but this is giving me a Cinderella retelling vibe. Btw sorry for the late response anon, but here's how I think this would go down.

*Trigger Warning- Innuendoes, non-explicit mature content.*

The white trail of her dress was like an angel's wings dragging across stone carved from the mountains of Hell. Lace lined her arms and the top of her breasts. A long slit ran up the side of her thigh, revealing the same lace work hugging her legs.

Golden hair spilled down her back and shoulders, flowers and rings of gold weaved through those luscious strands. Her shoulders and collarbone deliciously bare, off the shoulder sleeves hung over the lace of her forearms. An angel indeed, left in the company of devils.

Rhysand watched her from his throne. His eyes locked in on those slender legs as they moved her through the crowd. The females eyed her, disgust twisting in their face, constricting their eyes and noses. Males stepped out of her way as she moved past them like fluid.

A powerful, or perhaps idiotic, decision to wear such garments, not a stain on the white silk. A symbol of purity, as if anyone from this Godforsaken city could be called pure.

She looked up to the throne set high above the people below it. Her eyes were of the deepest green, as if they had been sucked from the heart of a forest, flecked with gold like stars. Their gazes locked and for a moment, the world ceased to exist, everything turning to a black void and low drone of voices. Even though her head was tilted up to see him, Rhysand couldn't help but feel like she was looking down on him, like his existence was worth little more to her than whoever else wished for her presence in bed, or hand in marriage.

Then she turned away, she turned away and every nerve in his body burned for her to look at him again.

What was this strange, heady feeling? Rhysand tilted his head, watching as she walked back into the crowd, unable to disappear from view, as she was a sliver of light in the sea of black and deep Night Court purple.

'Are you staring at her?' A familiar laughing voice boomed in his head. Rhysand allowed the smallest of smirks as he cast his eyes in the direction of his friend and General.

Cassian grinned back from his place beside Azriel, stationed close to the throne but not close enough that they overshadowed him.

'There are many 'hers' here tonight, Cass, enlighten me on which you speak of.'

'Oh, don't be so formal, High lord. The pretty one in the white dress, everyone's lookin at her.' He murmured it in such a low tone Rhysand had to suppress the urge to snap.

'Careful Cass,' Azriel murmured through the mental bond, 'Rhysand's already called first bite.'

'There is no first bite, Azriel.' Rhysand replied smoothly, 'Though it is a... proud choice to wear such clothing.'

'A cocky choice more like it.' There was Mor, Rhysand was wondering when she would but in with her opinion, 'To wear robes like that when our Court uniform is solely black, blue and purple is insulting at the least, an act of defiance at worst.'

'Calm yourself, Mor. She hasn't done anything as of yet.' Rhysand drawled.

'Apart from looking like an angel with her wings cut off.' Cassian said.

'Get back to work you three.' Rhysand ordered, shutting out the tones of his friends before resuming his former position, sitting on an oversized throne being bored as all Hell.

Rhysand scanned the ballroom again, watching the waltzing taking place before him. The deep, low tones of the music in the air hummed like background noise, nothing more than decorative festivities meant to give the people an opportunity to move their bodies in a fashion that wasn't simply standing around.

Music had never been the Hewn City's strong point. Such artistry was better off in Velaris, where good people could actually be found.

Rhysand sighed, if the Darkbringer's army wasn't so powerful he would have had Azriel and Cassian bring the foundations of this place down and allow the wicked cruelty festering down here to be crushed. That's all these people deserved after all.

Too lost in his own bored musings, Rhysand failed to notice the swift, silent steps coming for him until she was standing directly before him.

Rhysand near jolted but forced his body to remain calm. Up close she was even more beautiful than he could have ever imagined.

Her arms were toned and muscular, her waist clipped and hips flaring out to show off curvy thighs. For a moment the urge to grab them squeeze pricked his mind.

"You are standing before the throne, yet you are not on your knees?" Rhysand hummed, his voice deceivingly kind.

The female before him wasn't stupid and he figured that out quickly by the hardened glare she gave him. But it was clear to see she lacked fear of consequence, because the first words she spoke to him were, "Do you always just sit on your ass on this throne, or will you actually mingle with your own people?"

Rhysand opened and closed his mouth, completely and utterly at a loss for words.

"I beg your pardon."

"My pardon is granted; now will you answer my question?"

Rhysand stared at her, unable to form a coherent sentence that did not entail yelling his indignation. So, he opted for a gentle brush of his talons against her mind.

Finally, she narrowed her eyes and took a slight step back on instinct, remembering how dangerous the male before her truly was.

"Are you drunk, lady? Or perhaps do you lack self-preservation? You stand before my throne, asking insulting questions and assuming you give pardon to me?"

She tilted her head to the side as if she was truly pondering his question, "It has been mentioned that I lack any real self-preservation, but I like to call it a lack of tolerance for entitled self-serving Night Court royals."

Rhysand couldn't help it, he snorted, a quick, genuine sound. He had no idea how it even slipped past his defenses. Her lips quirked up in a slight grin, counting his reaction as a win on her side. He quickly coughed into his hand trying to cover the sound but that only seemed to serve to amuse her more.

"What is your purpose in antagonizing me, lady?"

"I am not antagonizing; I am asking a genuine question. Are you going to sit on your ass for the whole party, or will you join the festivities?"

"I'd hardly call this," He gestured to the stiff, tense dancing- if one could call it that- taking place below them, "Dancing."

She glanced at the people behind her, then she looked over him again. Her green eyes so sharp as they swooped up and down him like a predator's watchful gaze.

Even though she was but another Hewn City citizen that he could have tortured and executed if he wished for it, Rhysand couldn't help but feel as though he was not the one in control.

"Perhaps the people would be more responsive if their ruler joined them instead of sitting up so high above them." She crossed her arms, shifting her weight to her left leg as she waited for his reaction.

"Who are you to tell me how to rule my people?"

She grinned at his scowl. A grin with bone white teeth and sharp, gleaming fangs. Between that glowing smile and the way those gold specks in her eyes seemed to shine brighter, Rhysand felt his world shift from one side to the other and it was dizzying.

"I am the person telling you to get off your ass and come dance." She said.

Rhysand blinked his violet eyes; she blinked her green ones back.

"Are-are you asking me to dance?"

"No."

"No?"

She took his hand in her own. Her hands weren't soft and dainty, no, they were calloused and firm. Hands like his. Hands that were used.

She tugged and Rhysand, adding horror to curiosity, followed her silent order. He stood up.

The High lord was marginally taller than the female before him. But he was surprised at her height regardless. In a good set of heels, she would surely surpass him.

She was playing some game, doing something to him that Rhysand couldn't figure out.

"Asking would insinuate you had a choice to dance or not, you're dancing with me, that's final." Her cheeky pink tongue slid across her fangs, red spread across Rhysand's face. A strip of blotchy red that undoubtedly did not escape her cunning eyes.

Sucking in a breath, Rhysand tried to find the will to rebuke her. But before he even got a sentence out, she was pulling him down to the dance floor.

Looking out at the sea of people. Rhysand watched as jaws dropped and eyes widened. Even the music from the orchestra faltered for a moment as eyes went to the feared High lord of Night being half-dragged by a strange, beautiful female in a dress of pure white.

When Rhysand's eyes snapped to those watching they quickly resumed their ministrations. Pointedly not making any eye-contact with the Lord or the mysterious lady.

Once in the center of the room, she spun on her heel and put a hand to his shoulder, forcibly placing his hand on her waist. Then she smiled up at him. A beautiful display of pearly whites with a sweet gaze.

"Well High lord? Show us all what talents you keep hidden while you're sitting on the throne."

*** "What do you mean she can't be found?!" Rhysand yelled, Azriel didn't so much as flinch, Rhysand did notice the slight roll of his eyes.

"I mean no one can find her. Like she just," Azriel gestured to nothing, "Disappeared into the night air, and from what I've gathered, no one had ever seen her before."

"What does that mean?" The High lord hissed, knowing very well what that meant.

"It means your little crush wasn't from the Hewn City, somehow she snuck in there. Which means she could be from anywhere."

"Impossible. It's impossible to leave the Hewn City or enter it without my permission." Rhysand stood up from his chair, walking away from his desk and towards the large window behind him. Looking out over the view of Velaris. Soft evening sun was upon the world, casting tall shadows over the ground and filling the air with a soft cool breeze. The scattered lights of the city looked like stars on Earth.

"Even if she somehow snuck in as you say, she couldn't have left. The security is to tight."

"I don't know what to tell you Rhysand, she danced with you then disappeared."

"Impossible." Rhysand repeated shaking his head.

Her waist in his hand had been like heaven pressed against him. Looking down into her eyes are they moved, spun and turned had been a religious experience. Nothing in the world compared to her long fingers travelling up his neck to brush the underside of his chin. No drug in the world could ever get him higher then when she had let him spin her away from the ballroom.

"Hello, Night Court to Rhysand!" Cassian smacked the side of his head. Rhysand reeled around and went to punch him right in the throat, but the larger male caught his arm before he could get close.

"Give it up, Rhys, it's been a week. The girl's not comin back." His General told him.

"You don't get it, Cass. She..." How could he move on from that. From the heady feeling of her hands on his body, travelling to find any skin not protected by his clothing. Nothing could compare to her heavenly voice whispering back-handed compliments and jokes about him stepping on her toes.

"Cassian's right, Rhys. Let it go. Who knows? Maybe you'll find her again. For now, we have other priorities." Azriel insisted.

With a strained groan, Rhysand turned back to the window and put his hands to his head.

They were right, of course they were right.

But how could he focus on other things when he could only feel her lips on his skin when he led her out into the dark, empty hallways, away from the ballroom?

***

He dreamt of her. He dreamt of that night. Of her dress flaring out, brushing his legs as they danced. He dreamt of her laughter, a honey-sweet sound in the midst of so much darkness. He dreamt of her knowing smile, and the expression on her face. As if whatever game she was playing, she had won.

He dreamt of whispering in her ear. Turning up his charm, trying, near desperate for a chance as she seduced him within an inch of his life.

He dreamt of her hands wrapping around the collar of his shirt and her telling him to make it worth her while.

Pinning her against the cold wall. Rhysand buried his nose into the crook of her neck. She laughed and buried her fingers in his dark hair, pulling until he looked back into her eyes.

She smirked, a glint of danger in her eyes. Quicker than his hazy brain could think, she jutted her head down and nipped his neck, leaving a small bite mark. Rhysand near lost his damn mind. Roughly grabbing her hips he shoved her more forcefully against the wall. His own head going down onto her neck. Leaving darkened bruises on her pale skin.

She clicked her tongue, "So rough, needy, are we?"

"Gods above."

"The Gods aren't down here, High lord. No one but the devil is watching our sins." She murmured in such a seductively low tone; Rhysand may have lost a part of his mind to her in that very moment.

Trying to keep his thoughts on one track. Rhysand moved his hands up and down her thighs, bunching her skirts in his hands. Her breaths turned heavy, and her face went a splotchy red. Rhysand felt a smirk matching hers curling on his lips.

"You're right. No one's here to see how the Lord of Night plays with such alluring delights like you."

"All talk. No play." She drawled.

"Not one for foreplay, darling?"

"I'm one for proving you know how to wield the thing between your legs, darlin."

Rhysand loosened a near feral noise. But as he went to push back her skirts to reveal what was between her legs, the loud ringing of the stroke of midnight rang true through the Hewn City.

She sucked in a breath and drew back from him, eyes wide and mouth agape.

"Is something amiss, lady?" Rhysand asked, trying to keep the hot, heady feeling of the moment but concerned for her reaction.

"Midnight." She whispered.

"Yes, lady." Perhaps she was on a curfew, that was true for a great number of females in this City, "Do not worry over any curfew, I will grant you-"

"No," She sharply pulled away from him, forcing his hands off her, "No, no, I have to leave."

"Lady, I-"

"This was good," She smiled, it was girlish smile that he hadn't seen before, almost an apology for her hasty escape, "This was good, but I must go."

Then she was sprinting down the hall. Dress following her like a cape. Rhysand watched her, stunned into immobility.

He looked at the place she had just been, then a vital thought crossed his mind. He didn't have her name. Without another thought, the High lord of Night found himself racing after her.

"Lady! My Lady, wait!" He called out, but she didn't slow. Grabbing the edge of a corner she whirled around and was gone from Rhysand's eyes.

As he rounded the corner and stared down the dark hallway. She was gone. Disappeared into thin air. If it weren't for her floral scent clinging to everything he was, he would've convinced himself she was never there.

***

Rhysand dug his spoon into the tasteless porridge before him. Flinging small scraps onto the table. He pointedly didn't look at any of his family.

After Rhysand set his cup of near empty coffee on the table with an unnecessarily loud clang, Mor growled, "Rhysand, what is your problem?"

"Nothing is my problem, Morrigan." He hissed back, finally looking up to meet her equally hateful stare.

"He's lusting after the angel he saw two weeks ago in the Hewn City. Mad he can't find her again." Cassian dobbed on him. Grinning as he swallowed his own breakfast.

"Angel? You mean the girl wearing white?" Morrigan rolled her eyes, "She was arrogant for wearing that. It was practically bridal wear."

"She looked like a Goddess on Earth." Rhysand cut her off.

Morrigan levelled him with a hard stare, "Rhysand, leave the shitty poetry for Tamlin."

Azriel nearly choked on his coffee as he started giggling, his shoulders shaking. Rhysand growled at all of them, "I don't understand how no one has seen her since. Azriel, instead of laughing, how about you go and make sure the sentries at the Hewn City aren't skimping on their jobs?"

Azriel held up his hands, in an 'I'm innocent' manner, "Don't snap at me. I have checked every nook and cranny. Skewered every sentry for information. No one saw her enter, and no one saw her leave."

Cassian hummed in a low tone, "There could be a weakness in the Hewn Cities defenses allowing people to enter and leave as they please."

"Which means you both check again. From top to bottom, side to side, I don't want one household, one corridor, one room unaccounted for."

"Yes, Lord fell in love after one dance." Cassian taunted as he stood from the dining table. Looking at Azriel, he jutted his head to the door and the Shadowsinger nodded. Standing up he gave Rhysand a warning glare, before he followed his brother out the door.

Only Mor and Rhysand were left in the room. Not for long as Morrigan stood up, picking up her plate before she looked down at Rhysand.

"That female was in the wrong for wearing a white dress. Don't waste your feelings on such women." Mor warned him, before disappearing as well.

Rhysand never got the chance to tell his cousin, that the cocky, self-assured attitude that female had was half the reason he was going insane for her.

***

A year passed and Rhysand never saw the female again. But he didn't forget that night. It repeated in his head over and over. He examined every word, every expression, every shift of her lips or eyebrows. Every movement of her dress shifting on her body. He didn't forget. Couldn't forget. In his hottest fantasies he sought out the feeling of her skin under his fingers, in his darkest nightmares it was her warmth he was drawn too.

Over and over, he spun himself in circles. Trying to forget and move on, but lulled back into her memory like she lived in his head. Always finding him, never letting him leave. At times Rhysand wanted nothing more than to comb through every household, every road, every path in Prythian just to hear her laughter in the distance. Other times he wanted to rip out his mind and meticulously pick her memory out of his head, just so he could focus on something else without her smile lurking in the corner of his thoughts.

Cassian and Azriel had long accepted he was going to take a good long while to get over her. So, they resorted to simple teasings and rolling their eyes. Morrigan was less inclined to entertain his pining. Snapping at him whenever his mysterious lover came up. Becoming colder and more reserved. He didn't know whys he was so affected by her. Why she hated the idea of this woman just for wearing white.

He supposed it should've been considered an insult for her to wear such as color when she had nowhere near the authority. But Rhysand couldn't bring himself to care.

He wouldn't see her again, that he was starting to convince himself of. Finally, on solstice when he went the whole day without thinking about her, Rhysand thought he was ridding himself of her.

Then he was invited to a solstice celebration, hosted by Helion.

They all went. Everyone did. Even the other High lords. The Day Court palace had been transformed into a party, decorated with gold and lights that swirled in his vision. The drone of voices filled the air. The smells of good food and wine enticed Rhysand to fall away from his entourage not long after they arrived. Blending into the crowd. Rhysand found a male offering drinks to all, he took a glass and sipped on the delectable liquid whilst observing the party from the outskirts.

People danced, spinning around, twirling, pushing and pulling. Music was in the air, blending into the mix of laughter and chatter.

"Don't have a throne to sit your ass on," Every part of Rhysand's body was set on fire as he heard the voice that haunted his dreams whispering in his ear. He couldn't even turn as a too familiar hand slid down his chest, "So you're standing out here, avoiding everyone."

Rhysand finally forced his eyes to turn, and there she stood. His memory did her no justice, for she glowed with an alluring nature that his mind could not capture. Those golden curls were decorated with the same flowers and golden rings as before, except tonight a pair of striking antlers stood out like a crown.

Instead of that heart-stopping white dress, she wore something very different but equally as royal, equally made Rhysand wished to tear it away. A suit of dark emerald, green, a pressed white shirt underneath a waistcoat decorated with striking golden embroidery that swirled in the shape of flowers. A long jacket made with the same material as the waistcoat covered her arms and slid around her waist. Rhysand wanted to rip it away and place his hands on her waist once more.

"It's you." He breathed, unable to say anything more.

"Miss me, High lord?" She murmured, voice falling into that seductive low tone. Rhysand went weak, becoming nothing but putty for her hands.

Near shaking, Rhysand took both her hands in his. Gently pressing a kiss to each finger, he whispered against her skin, "Dearly."

She took in a breath, when he looked up, he saw her green eyes were soft. Her face ethereal, warm in the light, divine like a Goddess.

"I missed you too." She admitted.

"My darling-" He started, then she pressed a finger to his lips.

"Come with me somewhere... private." She said, looking out at the sea of people.

His blood started racing. Heat warmed his cheeks. As much as Rhysand wanted to take her against the floor where they stood, he found a different desire was battling his sexual ones. The urge to pull her close, breathe in her scent and forget the rest of the world existed was getting stronger by the minute.

She held onto his hands tightly. Then she moved, dragging him along behind him like she did when she took him off the throne. Rhysand went more than willingly. She kept them in the shadows of the party. Not a soul paid them any attention.

They found an empty balcony. She all but shoved him out then closed the curtains and the glass door.

Finally, she tuned back to him. Oh gods, if she looked beautiful in the warm chandelier light, she looked bewitching in the silver of the moon. Rhysand nearly dropped to his knees. In that moment, if the female before him told him to martyr himself in her name, he would've and he would've done it smiling.

How did one person he met a year ago have such a hold over him?

"Darling." He meant to purr the word, but it came out broken, desperate, near begging. He planted his hand on her hips and pulled her close. Pressing his nose into crook of her neck like he had in his dreams an unaccountable number of times, "My darling."

She slid her hands up his chest and Rhysand felt higher than the moon itself. Felt like he was amongst the stars themselves.

Then she pushed him away. Rhysand panicked for a moment. Fear took hold of him, strangling him till he couldn't breathe. Fear she would run away. Fear he would never see her again.

"Wait-" he started. Then she grabbed onto the collar of his shirt, keeping him at an arm's length but not letting go. It eased only a sliver of his worry.

"Rhysand," She murmured. Oh, gods his name on her tongue was like being handed a slice of heaven itself.

"Yes, my darling."

"I... you have to forget me." She told him.

Everything spinning his world came to a crashing halt, "My... my lady, I-"

"Forget me, forget everything about me. This cannot be." She told him, beginning to let go of his collar. Beginning to let go of him.

He was quicker than her this time. This time he didn't let her leave him. He took hold of her waist and pulled her back to him.

"What do you mean it cannot be?"

"I cannot be with you, you not with me. It would never work. It... we can't."

"We can." Perhaps she was already engaged? A forced marriage maybe? Or was she worried about someone low-ranking being with a High lord.

"Rhysand-"

"It will work, I will make it work. I will kill any that need to be killed. I will fix anything that needs to be fixed. I will get on my knees for you if that's what you want, please just... don't leave me again."

Tears pooled in her eyes; Rhysand desperately wanted to get rid of them.

"There is something about me you must know Rhysand." She said.

"Tell me, whatever it is, I can handle it." He insisted.

She huffed a laugh and lightly shook her head, "You will hate me once you know it. You will hate me and you will make my life hell for it. I would rather you just forget me."

"No. Never." He nearly shuddered, what could she know that would possible invoke his wrath?

"You are going to hate me." She told him, not a question, a factual statement.

"Tell me anyway." He said.

She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. Stepping away from him she forced him to let go. He felt the need to reach out, but held himself back.

Then in the blink of an eye, she changed. Her suit changed as well to fit the new body it held. Her torso became longer. Her shoulders filled out the shirt more. In a second she was taller, almost exactly his height. Her jaw become more carved, slightly broader. But her eyes, hair and skin stayed the same.

Rhysand felt his mouth fall open as a ringing in his ear drowned out the background noise of the party.

Tamlin pointedly did not look at him. He looked out over the view of the Day Court. Rhysand's eyes could only look him up and down.

"I'm sorry Rhys." Tamlin murmured. His voice deepened, but still rich like the sweetest of honey, "I'm sorry."

How...

"I wanted to escape for one night. I went to the Hewn City, it was the only place completely and utterly removed from Prythian. I saw you and I... it pissed me off how high and mighty you looked. I didn't know how far it would go."

How did...

"I had to go back at midnight, lest Lucien and Andras send out a search party looking for me. But I... I couldn't stop... thinking about you." He whispered the last three words like they were cursed.

How did Rhysand never know?

Everything about Tamlin had remained Tamlin in his female form, except having a more feminine look and high-pitched voice. His personality remained precisely the same. The same sarcastic, dare-devil attitude. The same cocky, self-assured air about him. The same cheeky smart cunningness.

"I'm sorry for leading you on, but I-"

Rhysand laughed; he couldn't stop it. It burst from his throat like a tidal wave. He nearly doubled over. Tears springing from his eyes.

Tamlin's face turned from shock to indignation and finally mild amusement. He crossed his arms and waited for Rhysand to collect himself.

"You done, yet?" Tamlin drawled. Rhysand forced himself to take in a deep breath, controlling himself.

"Yes." Rhysand said.

They both looked at each other. This was the first real one-on-one interaction with each other since... since that night all those years ago.

"Do you hate me?" Tamlin whispered, "Not just for before but... for this?"

Rhysand barely heard the question, too busy watching the way a hair fell from its place to frame Tamlin's face.

"I..."

Did he?

He should. He had to. He had to feel angry for this. For being led on like this.

But he couldn't. The fire he had felt when Tamlin appeared in female form just minutes prior still burned, in fact... it was getting hotter.

"I don't know." Rhysand said.

Tamlin gritted his teeth, not liking that answer. He turned on his heel, striding away from Rhysand. He opened the glass door and called over his shoulder, "Well when you figure it out,"

Tamlin turned just enough to look Rhysand in the eyes, "You know where to find me."

Tamlin tossed the curtains open and they were faced with the Inner Circle staring at them with wide eyes and open mouths.

Tamlin just gave them a cocky grin and a wave before he strolled away. Heading for Lucien and Andras who called him over, oblivious to what had just occurred.

***

No one had spoken to him. And Rhysand didn't speak to them. Once they got home, he beeline for his office, shut and locked the door. They all assumed he was humiliated. Embarrassed at having been obsessed with the male he claimed to loathe.

Rhysand sat in his office for days. The shadow twins brought him meals. Neither speaking, just walking through the walls to hand him whatever they had prepared, then they left.

They all assumed he was thinking of ways to murder the male that had made him insane for a year.

They were all so far from the truth.

Rhysand sat in his chair, staring out at his city, wondering how Tamlin was still stuck in his mind.

He half-expected to at least be only thinking of Tamlin's female form. Still obsessed with how she looked.

But no, his mind wouldn't let him think of her, he could only think of him. Could only think of Tamlin's laughter, Tamlin's smile, Tamlin's face. Tamlin dancing with him. Tamlin touching him. Tamlin beneath him-

Rhysand scrubbed his face with dry hands. Trying to rid his mind of those thoughts.

He shouldn't think like that. He was a High lord for the God's sake. It was his Cauldron-given duty to marry a female. Fuck a female. Put an heir in a female. And give the Court their next High lord. All with a female.

What kind of reasoning was that? He shouldn't be thinking like this because it wasn't him. He didn't... males simply didn't think like that. It was... it wasn't.

What was he trying to convince himself of? Didn't he preach about Velaris being a safe haven for all that wanted to do as they wished with their bodies, give their love to whomever?

Everyone else could do what they wanted. But he couldn't. He wasn't like that. He just wasn't.

Right?

Right.

Tamlin's eyes appeared in his mind's vision and Rhysand nearly flipped his desk.

Slamming his head back against his chair, Rhysand groaned loudly.

He stared up at the ceiling, thinking the untouched white would distract him. It only served to make his mind wonder back into dangerous territory. Tamlin with his hand on Rhysand's shoulder. Tamlin nipping his neck with his sharp teeth. Tamlin grinning as Rhysand went down on his knees-

"God's above." Rhysand whispered.

'The Gods aren't down here, High lord. No one but the devil is watching our sins.'

Instead of a female's voice murmuring, it was Tamlin's. Rhysand lost his own breath for a moment, eyes shuddering closed.

Rhysand forced his eyes open. He forced himself to stand up, roughing brushing himself off. He looked out at the view of Velaris.

Hands trembling. He roughly threw open the window. Wings appearing on his back as his wards dropped. He fell into the wind and shadows of Night.

'Do you hate me?' That torturous voice whispered in the cavern of his memory.

"No." Rhysand spoke into the night as his wings snapped out and he shot up into the clouds.

"How could I ever hate the best thing that ever happened to me?"

The twins would go into his office the next morning with breakfast, and they would find an empty room. Mor would be frantic, and Cass and Az would search Velaris from top to bottom.

But they wouldn't find him, because Rhysand was going to the place his mind and heart had been stolen too.

Rhysand was going to Spring.

Rhysand was going to Tamlin.

Thank you so much for this prompt! It was very fun to write!

By the way this is what I imagine Tamlin's dress in the Hewn City to look like. Found this image on my Pinterest feed.

And here's the inspiration for Tam's suit at the Day Court party.

#acotar #tamlin #pro tamlin #rhysand #rhyslin #tamsand #tamsand au #acotar au #anon asks #acotar headcanons #rhysand being obsessed #as per usual

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niqhtlord01 · 1 year

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Humans are weird: ET Stay Home

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

Subject: Species 543-71-D9 Observing Xenologists: Flipip Nu and apprentice team.

Observation Day 1:

We have encountered another primitive species in our travels across the stars. We are still some days away from direct observation but our scanners have detected multiple signal waves emanating from their world which we were easily able to tap into.

Their planet circles a red sun in the green zone providing ample areas for life to develop. The dominant species appears to have developed rudimentary space faring technology but for some reason remain centered on their homeworld.

Reasons for the lack of interstellar exploration remain a point of debate among my fellow researchers. It is possible that we have begun observations at a point of cultural divergence with this technology and the confines of existing sociology norms seeking to hinder it, or that the technology is still in an experimental state and not ready for wide spread production.

While their shuttle craft appear limited we have detected that the species have deployed a number of orbital satellites both positioned around their planet and circling their inner and outer system.

Based off the readings from our current sensors these satellites appear a mixture of signal transference and outward observation. There is a belief among my team that these may act as an early warning system to alert the species to any inbound travelers. As such I have ordered all scrambling jammers activated and set a course that should avoid the majority of them. -------------

Observation Day 13:

The previously plotted course indeed took us past many of the satellites and we have now obtained a stable orbit above the world for closer observations. Our cloak is currently active leaving us protected from all but the most advanced observation equipment; technology at this time we agree is far beyond the means of our current subjects.

Initially we had taken up a position in low orbit just skimming the planet’s atmosphere, but it was quickly discovered that the majority of signals being sent from the satellites were being rebounded back towards the planet’s surface. This proved problematic as our scramblers were still active and began blocking signals in an area roughly half the size of the smallest continent on the surface.

Seeing this would no doubt prompt swift investigation from the planets inhabitants I moved us to high anchor above the planet and reduced the range of our scramblers to the smallest bubble they could achieve and still guarantee our safety. ------------

Day 20:

It has been several days since we moved orbit positions and we have seen no indications that our presence was discovered. This is fortunate for a number of reasons as we have made several surprising discoveries without having to set foot on the world.

With minimal effort from my technical apprentice, we were able to tap into the information network and begin observing the data first hand. I have found it almost beyond belief that the majority of the signals being transmitted back and forth between these satellites are unencrypted and so easily accessible. In a matter of hours we were able to formulate a picture of the species we are dealing with which would normally have taken us weeks of painful close observations from remote drones and limited on site expeditions. The only hindrance as of yet is the sheer volume of data being fed on a daily basis amongst the planets dominant species. We have had to dedicate the majority of our ships computation systems to sifting through the information for critical details.

From what we have gathered so far we have learned that the dominant species is called “Humanity”. A species that has gone through several hundred evolutionary changes to their current standing which has allowed them to establish themselves as said dominant species.

They are proving to be quite perplexing however when it comes to further classification of their social behaviors. Rather than being united as a single species, these “humans” appear to have subdivided themselves into several dozen different castes based around either national lines or genetic origins. Further confounding is their need to then further divide these by genetic traits such as hair, skin, body structure, etc.

Further observation is required. -------------

Day 37:

Earlier today several of my team came to me with a petition to begin first on planet observations from the surface. Their proposal was in response to the continuing conflicting nature of information being transmitted which is causing problems with the legitimacy of the data.

Conflicts are reported by one group of humans while being denied from ever happening by another despite clear evidence. Sub classes of humans are having their genetic heritage questioned without proof and based solely on physical differences that can be observed through sight. Even the origins of their people have been called into question by what appear to be numerous religious beliefs that are shared worldwide.

I admitted that while at first the information being gathered was proving more useful than any field work observation, the continual stream of conflicting information was beginning to show that simply observing the information networks would not be a viable option for further study.

They gave me a detailed plan to land a small landing craft near one of the smaller and more isolated communities dotting the planet and begin observations from there. I told them that I would go over their plan and have a decision for them in the morning.

In truth I am concerned about sending any detachment of my team down to the surface, though I did not openly share my reasons with the others.

While going over the information one night I discovered several dozen entries scattered throughout the human historical records of previous visitors to their world from other planets. Many of these encounters were often harmless glances in the night sky or seeing shadowy figures off in the distance, but a number also were more descriptive and detailed abductions of individuals to be taken and experimented on.

This showed that while technologically inferior to our people, these humans were all too aware that they were not alone in the universe and would most certainly have plans in place for any future encounters. ---------------

Day 38:

I agreed to the proposal of a landing party and the team departed a short while ago.

Despite my still apprehensions we needed a fresh source of data to analyze and having an on the ground team would provide that raw information we needed.

The team will be setting down on the island continent in the southern hemisphere. Orbital scans showed the land to be largely inhabited around the coastline of the continent while the interior was sparsely populated save for small communities.

From the landing site they will observe the local populations from a distance and then relay their findings back to the ship while also gathering samples of not only the planet but of humanity as well.

It’s risky, but the plan seems airtight. I wish them the best of luck. -----------------

Day 39:

I was awoken early in the morning to the panicked distress signals coming from the away team and rushed to the command deck.

Nuk’le, leader of the team, had been injured and their shuttle was heading back to the ship for medical attention. What was worse was that a human was also onboard who had been the one to injure Nuk’le and had been knocked unconscious by one of the other team members before they took off.

It is hard to describe the full spectrum of emotions I was feeling as I stood on the command deck and watched the shuttle’s signal get closer by the minute.

Anger, sorrow, concern, disdain, confusion; all these things swirled within me like a raging maelstrom with no outlet to disperse.

Zu’ru was now in command of the team and I demanded a full report as to what had happened in the few hours I had been away from the command deck. She told me that the team had safely landed at the predetermined landing site without issue and began making their way to the human community several miles away. They had setup their observation post along a ridgeline that overlooked the community and were able to gather many visual data captures and scanning samples of both the humans and the ecosystem when the first indications of a problem began.

The climate shifted without warning and a mighty wind began blowing in from the west. All around them the loose sand of the ground was soon picked up by the wind and the team found themselves in the midst of an intense sandstorm. Nuk’le did not wish the equipment to be damaged by the storm and so ordered the team to retreat back to the shuttle to ride out the storm in safety. Along the way the team had encountered their second problem.

The team had been making their way through the thick sandstorm back to their shuttle when they quite literally stumbled upon a human heading in the opposite direction to the town. They wore a long cloak and scarf that billowed in the wind while their eyes were protected by a pair of crude goggles. On their back was a long metal rod with a wooden handle that Zu’ru recognized as a tool used by hunters of the human culture and deduced that this human must have been on the hunt before the storm hit and was likewise returning home before heading out again.

They simply emerged from the sandstorm clouds like a wraith and came head to head with the team causing Nuk’le to panic and fire off a burst from his stun pistol. The shot went wide and hit the ground in front of the human who in response swung their hunting tool off their shoulder in a smooth motion and fired back at Nuk’le striking him in the shoulder. The crude hunting projectile punctured his suit and embedded itself in his flesh sending him into shock from the pain.

As the human turned their hunting tool on the rest of the party Zu’ru was able to get a second shot off with her own stun pistol and hit the human in the chest. Their hunting device fell from their hands and they collapsed to the ground as well while the team began tending to Nuk’le.

With the team leader seriously injured and the secrecy of the mission now compromised Zu’ru made a judgement decision to take both Nuk’le and the human hunter back to the ship. Some of the team wished to merely kill the human, but Zu’ru stated that the human had acted in self-defense and that it was Nuk’le who was at fault. Furthermore, there was no telling what would happen if the human did not return to the community. They had no idea what social standing they had or who they even were and the risk could endanger any future missions to the planet; so they would take him back to the ship, inject him with a memory altering drug, then return him the following day and hope that the community would believe that the human had just become lost in the sandstorm.

While I commended Zu’ru for her dedication as a scientist, I also criticized her and the rest for being so careless.

The damage had been done though and at this point I can only hope we can mitigate how far it spreads. -------------

Day 39 B:

The ship is in full quarantine lock down. All crew save for security personnel are confined to quarters until further notice.

No sooner had the shuttle landed in the hangar bay did the human wake up. For whatever reason the stun setting on our pistols did not affect the human as long as it should have and they regained their motor functionality as the landing ramp lowered and the science team began filing out of the shuttle.

One of the team had moved the human to a portable table and was preparing them to be moved to the medical wing when the human pulled a metallic blade of some sort from their clothing and slashed out at them. The blade cut deep and the team member recoiled as a deep gash opened up along their arm.

Before anyone could react the human was up and sprinting down the ramp. Confused by the sudden appearance of the human and the cries of pain from the newly injured team member, the rest of the landing party panicked and scattered around the hangar bay in their attempts to put distance between themselves and the human. Zu’ru was the only one to react and pulled out her stun pistol to again incapacitate the human.

I can only assume that the human recognized the weapon from before as no sooner did Zu’ru draw the weapon did the human quickly dodge the first shot by flattening themselves against the floor. They then proceeded to dodge all subsequent shots by rolling along the decking until they bumped into one of the fleeing landing party members.

Placing the knife directly at the crew members throat the human used the crew member as a living shield, blocking any shots Zu’ru would fire for fear of hitting her own comrade.

I rushed down to the hangar bay with a security detail and several medical staff to tend to the wounded and we stormed into the hangar from the access portals opposite the shuttle. This turned out to be a terrible move as no sooner had the corridor doors opened to let us in did the human push their hostage at Zu’ru thus knocking her over and then breaking into the corridor.

It was then I came face to face with the human for the first time. Their face was still covered with the previous trappings Zu’ru had reported, but for a moment I caught a glimpse of something behind those goggles as the light reflected off them.

It was a primal fear that was understood by every living species, regardless of where they came from.

The human was terrified and running on pure instinct.

They shoved me back as they entered the corridor, knocking back several of the medical and security personnel that had accompanied me. One of the security detail had been smart and had positioned themselves to the side of the door rather than in front of it. They brought their weapon down hard in an attempt to physically knock out the human as soon as they stepped into the corridor.

Stopping their forward momentum with a heavy footfall the human jerked their head back at the last second leaving the security officer unbalanced. They then brought up their crude knife and stabbed directly through the exposed section of their security armor around the neck leaving a bright stream of purple blood as the blade cut through flesh and embedded itself in their skull.

The human made to retrieve it but the other members of the security detail began firing wildly and so the human instead left the blade and sprinted down the opposite end of the corridor soon to be followed by the rest of the security team.

I stayed with the medical team as they cared for the injured and began enacting quarantine procedures via my comlink to the command deck.

Not only was there now a rogue alien aboard the ship, they seemed very keen on the ways of dealing out death. ---------------

Day 40:

It has been several hours since quarantine was enacted and yet still the human runs loose.

What’s worse is that they have avoided the security detail and are now at large inside the ship.

I have no idea how they managed it with quarantine procedures in effect but just as the security detail had them cornered the human simply vanished into thin air.

Security is now going through a deck by deck sweep of the ship to find the human while internal scanners go over every corridor and room searching for their life signs.

I’ve given up sleep for now and have taken up my position in the command deck to better help coordinate the search. Though my body is running on fumes I still find ways to keep myself awake and alert. One such method being focusing on the annoying guttering sound now coming from the air vents above the command deck. It was not there when I was last on the command deck but now it’s ever present sound is helping me stay awake.

Once the human was captured I will need to detail a work crew to get up there and repair those vents for peace of mind. They claim it is too small for them and that we should use robots instead but I know that there is enough room for…for……

Oh no.

*Garbled metallic sound in the background as something metal falls heavily to the ground*

*Several voices all shouting at once sound off followed shortly by weapons fire*

*Audio log ends*

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #story #writing #scifi #original writing #niqhtlord01 #space australia

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nadsdraws · 9 months

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By Nature

Tags: post s2, angst, open ending, Crowley's POV

"I don't know what you expected from an angel," an all too familiar voice tells him through the radio speakers as Crowley drives away from the bookshop.

For good.

He doesn't respond, touches his lips instead. It’s incredible how long one kiss can linger.

He didn't know what to expect from it, what it would feel like, how it would taste. He's never kissed anyone in his life.

But it felt right, in the moment. He's seen humans kissing before, he knew what emotion they were expressing through it. He knew Aziraphale would understand. It was his last, desperate act to convince Aziraphale to stay on Earth. With him.

It was all he had.

It wasn't enough.

"What was it this time? Duty? Responsibilities? In the end there is always something more important than us. There always will be." Lucifer's voice drones on.

Do the demons know about what happened? No one was there to see, and yet he's not so sure. He's not sure of anything anymore.

Not after the archangel fucking Gabriel threw away Heaven for Beelzebub and Aziraphale looked him in the eye and said "oh Crowley, nothing lasts forever."

Crowley isn't stupid, everything is in a constant state of evolution, nothing stays still for too long. No one can ever change that. And yet Crowley had hoped.

And then, a knife to his heart — "I forgive you."

Crowley can feel the tell-tale of his eyes prickling and that salty wet liquid runs down his cheek. A very human thing.

"Darling, you should have known better than to expect a member of the angelic host to throw away Heaven for you. They never choose us, Crowley." The way Lucifer says his name makes his skin crawl.

Gabriel did. Gabriel had always been more self-centered, had an ego of a planet. But that's the point, isn't it? Aziraphale is too selfless for his own good.

"I need you."

Aziraphale did what he was programmed to do by nature.

"Tell me you said no."

At first Crowley had been angry, wanted to go after Metatron for torturing his angel like that, making him choose, and then, and then Aziraphale's silence, his worried expression, his fear wafting off of him in waves. "Tell me you said no," Crowley repeated but this time he was begging.

They were not Heaven's or Hells'. Never were. They were Earth's, they belonged to the world. They belonged to each other. They didn't need words to prove it. Crowley got his confirmation in the thermos of holy water, in the averting of the Apocalypse.

Aziraphale was the world to Crowley.

He remembers vividly the way he slammed Aziraphale against a wall in the Airfield base, how Aziraphale looked down at his lips expectantly, and Crowley was so scared. Scared of doing the wrong thing, of scaring his angel away once more, that thing between them felt so fragile. Always fragile. Ready to shatter at the smallest misstep, a wrong word, a gesture.

Maybe Aziraphale was right, maybe it was never meant to last.

"She takes away everything in the end. First your precious stars, then your sight, and now your precious angel."

Abruptly, Crowley stops his car.

"What do you want?" He hisses with the full power of his anger and the tearing of his heart reverberating within.

"Come back to work for me down below, starmaker Crowley. It'll be just like the old times. I'm hearing that a position has just become vacant."

Crowley sighs. He doesn't have passion for his job, never had. He also doesn't have a purpose. He needs at least one to survive.

"I'll be there."

He steps out and leaves the Bentley behind. No lifts here but he can make do.

He gives the world one last look before sinking down below the ground.

For good.

-----

My AO3 | thanks to feraltuxedo for the beta

#good omens #good omens season 2 #good omens s2 #go s2 spoilers #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #angst #crowley angst #g rated #my writing

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isagrimorie · 11 months

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I'm rewatching Endgame right now and I've completely forgotten the way Admiral Janeway couldn't even talk about Seven when someone from Starfleet Academy brought it up:

And it's not that Admiral Janeway hasn't had a life, her crew is home and is her family and they've stayed in contact.

Almost everyone's lives have flourished. B'Elanna is the Federation liaison to the Klingon Empire, and so it seemed is Miral.

Except for Tuvok and Chakotay.

Tuvok's mental illness has progressed to the point he could barely function and Chakotay died the same year this happened... And it feels like Chakotay's death was Admiral Janeway's impetus in going for this plan.

A world without Seven of Nine is a world neither Chakotay nor Admiral Janeway accepts.

I first shipped Janeway with Chakotay and was so frustrated when Voyager ended and Janeway/Chakotay never happened when it was so obvious on both their sides.

And then I shipped Janeway and Seven but I could never accept Chakotay/Seven not only because it felt shoehorned but because they barely spent time together but to Jeri Ryan and Robert Beltran's credit they did what they could selling it.

For a first real-life relationship, Seven could do worse than Chakotay. He was respectful and did seem fond of Seven by the time they started dating and was ready to follow Seven at the pace she set.

But I've also come to believe the reason why they were together is because they couldn't be with Kathryn Janeway. In this alternate timeline, I believe Seven and Chakotay did come to love each other enough to marry but also there's an element of guilt involved with Chakotay after alt!Seven died because the person he also and still loved was Janeway. But guilt on Chakotay and Janeway's side prevented them from ever becoming something more.

I also believe Admiral Janeway loved both Chakotay and Seven and didn't want to choose, and their getting married is the safer choice even if it broke her heart because that meant she didn't have to choose and commit.

She'd rather have them both near and alive and untouchable, and in the end, she lost them both.

Honestly, Janeway didn't need to choose.

Anyway, Janeway's time travel adventures might be why my favorite time travel stories are the ones where future versions meet the past versions.

But also the first time Admiral Janeway sees Seven of Nine again, after two decades of not seeing her.

"Hello, Seven."

Admiral Janeway looks like a sailor who hasn't seen the sea for years, or a traveler crossing the desert who has stumbled into an Oasis.

Also, Seven looks so awkward she didn't know how to deal with two Janeways in close proximity to each other.

Please, she's just a poor confused ex-Borg drone taking the smallest steps toward romance.

I do love that amidst this we have scenes between Tom and B'Elanna and how they both called Voyager home. They're the most low-key OTP and I kind of love that for them.

But also, I do love that Admiral Janeway gets to spend a few moments with both Tuvok and Chakotay.

This moment when Captain Janeway muses on the strangeness of witnessing her future self talking to both Tuvok and Chakotay

And not knowing how precious this moment is to Admiral Janeway that she can be beside Tuvok, working and still in possession of his mental faculties, and Chakotay laughing and full of life.

Part 1, 2, 3

#kathryn janeway #endgame!admiral janeway #star trek voyager #ship: chakotay x janeway #ship: janeway x seven #seven of nine #chakotay #tuvok (star trek)#liveblogging voyager

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hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch · 1 year

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hope u take in requests it’s my birthday but i feel like no one cares:( i know its not a big deal but i cant help but feel sad please do a wanda x reader about birthdays

well I care nonnie! Happy birthday! 🥳 🎁 🍰

A/n: I’m so sorry this is late nonnie but I started night shift and I’m adjusting to trying to sleep during the day for longer than 3 hours

Birthdays

Summary: it’s your birthday and Wandas looking for you, she doesn’t know why you don’t want to celebrate your birthday but when you tell her she makes it her mission to make sure you have a happy one

Warnings: Nothing bad, fluff, the absolute smallest amount of angst and suggestive themes, still minors DNI thanks!

"Has anyone seen Y/n?" Wanda was walking through the compound looking for you, she had a surprise for you but it was useless if she couldn't find you.

"I think I saw her on the roof" Nat replied "is she excited about her birthday?"

Wanda shrugged "I think so but I made her a birthday breakfast this morning and she wasn't too excited" Wanda was confused, she thought you’d be really excited about your birthday like she normally is but you acted as if it was any other day.

Nat patted the witch on the back bringing her out of her thoughts "she's probably a little nervous, it's her first birthday with you, you know what she's like"

Wanda nodded "yeah, I guess, okay get ready for the party later and I'll bring her down"

You were in fact sat on the roof lay on your back with your eyes closed enjoying the cool breeze coming over you in small bursts

“Nat told me she saw you up here, are you okay my love?” Wanda’s voice surprised you and you jumped up “oh hi! Er yeah I’m okay just needed some alone time”

Your girlfriend sat down next to you bringing you into a hug kissing your forehead “wanna tell me why you’re not excited about your birthday?”

You should've known that you couldn't hide your feelings from a mind reading witch "who said you could read my mind?" You said softly making Wanda frown "I'm not? I'm capable of reading people's emotions without delving into their minds princess, and I know you're feeling upset"

You sighed feeling bad that you presumed your girlfriend would read your mind without permission "I'm sorry Wanda I just-I've just never been a fan of my birthday, no one ever wanted to celebrate with me so, I just never bothered, my friends didn’t like I what I like so it felt more like a forced chore they were doing, I didn’t want that to continue”

Wanda's heart broke, she could never imagine not celebrating her or her friends birthdays "oh honey I'm so sorry, well those people were idiots not to celebrate your birthday, we're gonna have so much fun! Come on" she jumped up trying to get you to go with her but you remained still "baby?"

"Is there a party downstairs waiting for me?" Wanda shifted nervously "...why do you think that?"

You chuckled "I saw the worlds best Assassin fail to creep through the compound with balloons and a cake under her arm"

Wanda groaned "worlds best Assassin my ass, well now that you know you should also know Tony got you a pretty cool present"

This peeked your interest "oh? A present from the billionaire playboy philanthropist? Maybe I will come down" you jumped up kissing Wanda on the cheek and walking past her "oh so you'll move for a expensive present but not because your loving smart sexy girlfriend made a party for you?"

You knew she wasn't really upset but you spun around back to her and hugged her tight "sorry honey, I'll make it up to you later"

"Oooh and I thought it was your birthday not mine" she moved her lips to yours kissing you softly making sure it didn't escalate, she didn't want any peeping drones watching you two, not again anyway, Tony didn’t want a repeat of Valentine’s Day.

"Are you feeling better?” Wanda whispered to you and you nodded "sorry, it'll just get some time getting used too, having my birthday celebrated"

Wanda kissed your forehead "that's okay but you should know every year the parties will get bigger and better and it'll be the best day of your life and mine, until the day I ask you to marry me of course"

You pulled back surprised searching for any joke on Wanda's face but didn't find any "what??"

She smiled "you heard me, one day I'll ask you to marry me, nothing too elaborate, just me and you some flowers, maybe Nat holding a camera but she'll have her mouth tapped shut so she can't make her snarky remarks"

You would say you're a little surprised but honestly the first date Wanda pretty much asked you to move into her in the compound, she claimed it was for safety but a few months in she admitted she wanted to keep you close, you didn't mind you didn't have to pay rent or buy groceries, what woman wouldn't want that?

"Okay Wands, nothing too big though okay?"

"No sky writing?" She pouted and you smacked her lightly on the arm "let's just go downstairs"

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

"There's the birthday girl!" Nat practically bounced on you hugging you so tight the air left your lungs

"N-Nat let me go" you struggled and the Russian released you from her death grip "sorry! But come on Tony has a cool present for you!" She dragged you across the room where the playboy himself sat

"Well my youngling nice of you to finally show up" he took a sip of his whisky and you flipped him off "get over yourself Stark where's my present?"

He stood up and dramatically turned around pressing a button opening the pod in the room revealing an exact replica of his own iron man suit but in purple, what was going on?

"What do you think?" He said looking back at you "you made a new suit in a different colour?"

Wanda slid up behind you holding you in her arms "that's your present"

"Fuck off!" You shouted jumping from her arms towards the pod scanning it and seeing your name on the arm "oh my god can I come on missions now?!"

Wanda stepped in before Tony could say yes "no! It's just for show and to maybe like fly around the building"

Clearly Wanda didn’t think you’d want to go on missions, like she said, just to fly around the building and shoot some targets

The group laughed at Wanda's ridiculousness, of course you were going on missions with them, why else was Tony would make a new suit "don't worry Wanda the widows said they'd look after her" Tony tried assuring her

"The 'widows' are looking after her, that's not gonna go well"

"Baby come on it'll be great! We can kill people together, that's so romantic"

Wanda stared at you strangely but also worriedly "how do you know I kill people?"

You shrunk a little under her gaze glancing to Nat but Wanda saw ir "Nat! Do you tell her I kill people?!"

Nat smiled and nodded "you're damn right I did, she loves hearing the stories"

Wanda sighed heavily deciding to stop talking and take a glass of champagne from the table downing it in one "I'm glad you love your new suit baby, but time for cake!"

You laughed bringing Wanda into a kiss tasting the sweet remnants of the champagne she just drank "you taste as sweet as the alcohol, I can't wait to taste you more later" you kissed down her neck making the witch giggle.

"Hey!" Tony clapped his hands separating you from Wanda "no intercourse at the party until we've all left"

You laughed "you all want to leave then?"

Nat threw a cushion at you throwing you off a little "you're insatiable Y/n, I'm surprised Wanda can walk after being with you"

"You know Nat if you want to sleep with me just say it, I'm sure I can rock your world sometime"

Maria wrapped her arm around Nat's waist "careful Y/n, I can make sure you clean the labs for the foreseeable future"

You fake gasped "ohhh noooo soo scary" you laughed but Maria's glare made Wanda grip you a little tighter "honey I know it's your birthday but maybe calm down with Maria, you know she’s a little scary”

You sighed in defeat facing the woman again “I’m sorry for saying Nat wants to sleep with me…but I could definitely rock her world and we both know it”

Maria rolled her eyes kissing Nat on the cheek “she’s a hand full, okay let’s celebrate you getting closer to the grave” she gave you a wink and you smiled “always the fun one on the room Hill, now, where’s this cake you’re talking about”

#marvel #mcu #wanda maximoff #wanda maximov #wanda maximoff x reader #marvel incorrect quotes #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #marvel au #marvel imagine #tony stark #maria hill #blackhill

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battlekilt · 8 months

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Last line!

RULES: The last nine lines written or drawn of any WIP or content. Fanfic, meta, sketch.

@razzbberry, thank you for the tag.

This isn't quite my last new line, but it is the last line I edited, along with the lines before and after that brings it up to the required amount... +1, but it just was wrong not to include it.

From the aft end of the catafalque* barge, Captain Rex stood at his self-assigned post in good company. Without any witnesses to bear their indiscretions, the three officers ignored military propriety and decorum… Or at least, one of them ignored convention, and the other two… allowed it. Jedi General Skywalker stood on the Captain’s left, and Marshal Commander Cody stood on his right. “May the flame of those who pass before us, light our way,” Cody beseeched the sea. Added to the wind with his throat tightened, “Good-bye, [REDACTED1]. You were a good soldier. [REDACTED2], the [REDACTED1]’s in charge,” then sighed the vice in his chest, and added with empty lungs, "Until we meet again, troopers." He swayed on his feet, and knocked shoulders with Rex. Together, the three men stood in eulogic vigilance, with the mechanical drone of the barge’s many industrial pumps that spewed its sanguineous silage into the currents. It churned in the ship’s wake, spread ribbons of pinky foam behind the graceless barge. Deposited across the area, the bioremnant** batch enriched the environment—specifically, the swarm of tiny krill eager for the food, and encouraged by the (warmer) season. Where krill massed, the herring came, and eventually… It was grim what became of a soldier in death. It was pitiful how small a soldier became. And it was certainly grotesque the final fate of a soldier. Yet, somehow, Rex still found it… almost perfect. At last, the rain came. A promise made, a promise fulfilled. The sky started with the smallest droplets scattered about. And Kamino… cried its sacrament for its fallen sons. Finally, at last, it was… perfect.

*Catafalque: a decorated platform or framework on which a coffin rests in state during a funeral.

**Bioremnant: biological material. (my word)

NOTE #1. Yes. this is a funeral. A funeral at sea.

tag: @s0ftand0nly @isaakandreyevs @sillyzombiedelusion @mamuzzy @insertmeaningfulusername @arianeemorythethird @liaonyxrayne @sunbit3 @marvelstars

Even just sharing this is making me emotional again.

This is such a cathartic moment for the three men.

(This is all meta and characterization within my own world-building.)

Cody receives shipments of troop troops, he sends into battle. If they stay with him it is because they've survived. He trains them up, and divides most of the seasoned 212thers into his specialty units, like the 501st and the 104th. Cody gets to keep very few veterans for himself.

The Commander also ships the others back home... in body bags. He's never had a chance to witness the after of their receipt. But, it just isn't there way. Worry not for the dead, but for the living. The Clones don't dwell on the physical remnants after death; they are far too much like their makers in this.

Anakin's struggled because there's been a good-bye. The brutal, utilitarian relationship the Clones have with the dead reminds him too much of how Slavers regarded deceased slaves; bodies are worthless if they cannot work, so it is unceremoniously tossed aside.

And Rex? He has a promise made, and a promise to keep.

NOTE #2: Clones find complicated funeral rites, grieving rituals, and any preoccupation with physical remains morbid, and an abomination.

#kilt's tag games #clone: cody #kilt's writing #au: rexx #clone king #jedi: skywalker

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approximateknowledge · 11 months

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no parents: the seemingly paradoxical potential of a eusocial individual

(a rant about biology, philosophy, and various fictional societies from scifi settings)

first things first: when i talk about eusociality i mean it in the core biological sense of the word; it's a reproductive strategy. it's fundamentally about polymorphism within a single species, and the smallest of distinctions necessary is the distinction between reproductive and non-reproductive castes. the "ant queen". the "queen" is not a ruler; it's an egg-laying machine. the queen of a naked molerat burrow-complex holds no more inherent authority over "her" offspring than any other rodent matriarch would. each molerat is an individual. each ant, each termite, each bee, each sponge-symbiote shrimp.

the point im trying to emphasise is that im not talking about hiveminds here!!!

good? good.

^an indidual

now with that out of the way:

-PART ONE: HUMAN APPROXIMATIONS

so, first of, examples of fictional societies of *humans* who switched their mode of reproduction to something akin or close to the eusocial "worker, queen, drone" template, though again, not all pieces are needed to "count"

1a: brave new world

starting off with an old scifi classic! BNW's society is interesting in just how it walks the tightrope between dystopia and utopia; to steal the term from isaac arthur, it's "post-discontent". every single individual is fully and completely human current day baseline-standards; a mortician wouldn't see a single strange thing about them. but they're all purpose *grown*. production-line wise, "our fordship be with us". it's production. no parents. all are free to do what they want. and they were made to do what they were made for. it's the culmination of a well-intentioned dream of fulfillment and efficiency.

the one factor to keep in mind is that technically speaking, *everyone* is still potentially reproductive. not in the mammalian reproduction way, but in the gene-donor for the hatcheries way. this detail does little to detract from the eusocial structure of the society.

individual-potential, there's actually very little to say! the entire thing is genuinely just shockingy *healthy* for each individual. and there are outliers! and there's also contingencies for outliers that are beneficial to said outliers. the new world does not limit. that would be cruel. and it is never cruel. the issue some of the outliers have is that it's *too* kind, in fact!

1b: tleilaxu

in contrast, the tleilaxu from the dune universe follow the structure of a eusocial organism almost to the letter. *almost*.

they're curious in how their incredible feats of society-shaping and biotechnology are all made in service to what ultimately amounts to an extreme form of fundamentalist zealotry. the culmination of the ultimate religious misogyny: "all tleilaxu women are queens", which, in the eusocial terminology, means they exist solely for reproduction.

on top of this, the majority of the tleilaxu population consists of completely sterile "face dancers" who are on the one hand still fully *people*, but simultaneously completely beholden to the orders of their masters on an instinctive level. orders given not in spoken language, but a complex inherent system of whistles and chemicals. like the pheromone trails of ants but more detailed.

and then there's the "masters". the *other* reproductive caste. they too are genetically modified to hell and back but on top of this keep simply regrowing themselves, in a twisted approximation of immortality. the ever-reborn rulers of their army of "growth tanks" and disposable face-dancer servants.

dune doesn't need aliens; given enough time to diverge, any human can become an alien.

and no individual can be an individual here. not at first at least. because there are still parents. the masters spoil the potential. they should've died long ago.

1c: krieg

yes, that krieg. from warhammer 40k. the trench WW1-larper guys. *insert shovel joke here*

but there's something there!

krieg is strange. you could argue the vita-womb born soldiers of the bombed-out shell of a hiveworld that is war-in-german are no different from say, clone troopers in star wars. except there's a massive difference under the hood; *krieg made and makes itself*. it's a society. the regiments of krieg are conscripted, sure, but they always send more than asked. they'd go out there unasked. they weren't made on order. they're a culture. a very distinct and purposeful one. and they no longer have the concept of a parent. a ruler, yes. a god too, in the great god-emperor of mankind. but each individual in the ranks of the underground cities of krieg is an individual. no parents, not an orphan.

^one of the happiest people in the imperium, somehow

and an added quirk of krieg is the fact it's a eusocial outlier in an otherwise very much reproductively baseline greater imperium (give or take whatever goes on with servitors and on some forge worlds). which is something i genuinely know no other examples of in fiction (if you do let me know please!)

-PART TWO: INTRINSIC EUSOCIALITY (IT'S JUST HOMESTUCK AND VAST ERROR BUT TRUST ME ON THIS ONE)

you all knew this was coming! troll-time baby!

-2a: alternia

to understand troll reproduction i will *not* be going into quadrants; because funnily enough, interactions and relationships between individual *trolls* doesn't mean much for the complete picture. because trolls, funnily enough, occupy the same part of the "triangle" of eusocial phenotypes as the tleilaxu masters. not queens, not workers, but drones. (except troll workers are called drones because terminology is never straigth-forward!). or more accurately, 3 trolls are 1 drone, reproductively speaking.

that also explains the rampant intraspecific violence and other r-selected traits that seem out of place for a eusocial species, which are normally very good at caring for their offspring. except this does happen: to drones! because troll society is run *by drones* trolls fight and squabble and invent and the entire society and quite possibly troll sentience itself is a result of this rampant competition and sexual selection. ultra-individualists with no parents. a lusus isn't a parent, it doesn't have *expectations* beyond affection and food (though that last one can in itself be a huge issue: see spidermom and gl'golyb). but not a parent. a hive is a home. and ironically the straightforward stable ancient cruelty of alternia, though filled with mundane dread, is mercifully bereft of most existential dread. as is fitting for a society that evolved sapience in a post-scarcity environment.

almost the most individualistic eusocial society imaginable. almost.

(-2a*: beforus)

similar to alternia except in that past initial culling in the brood caverns the intraspecific violence is kept to an absolute minimu at the cost of very strong and paternalistic control. objectively a better place to live but it has a lot of issues and is arguably worse mentally for most. (beforus too has *issues*, they're just less in your face than alternia's, which is in itself part of the larger issue)

-2b: repiton

and at last, repiton my beloved outlier that does things to my perception and lives in my thinkpan rent-free, not that i ever ask rent.

repiton of the upside-down uncanny valley. the ex-post-scarcity society of eusocials keeping themselves going with mother grubs. without drones. ony trolls and almost-cloning. a species on permanent life-support. such an odd outlier, almost reminiscent of brave new world, but they got where they are from the other side of the growth tanks. the humans of brave new world could always go back to mammalian reproduction within a single generation, but the mother grubs are *gone*. it's barely eusocial at all anymore, just the remnants of it.

crumbled to the feudal ancap wasteland of desperation pretending to be freedom. the malaise of borrowed time.

end

im sorry i have no conclusion, only pent-up thoughts i wanted to share.

about brave new world and repiton as mirrors, written almost a century apart.

about krieg as the philosophically fascinating outlier it is.

about the difference between parent and lusus, and why i wish i grew up with the latter.

and about why a hivemind sucks all the interesting parts out of eusociality as a concept.

thanks to the single-digit amount of people reading all the way to the end.

#ak goes insane #very long post #eusociality #brave new world #dune #tleilaxu #death korps of krieg #40k #homestuck #alternia #beforus #vast error #repiton

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ya-boy-polaris · 9 months

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Are you ever gonna continue the self aware reader x submas thing? /gen

Bc i just binged it and I love it. Is it fueled by asks? bc I'm willing to send millions /hj

Submas x Self Aware Reader part 8

Now that you were slightly more aware of how your world is merely some fabricated game of entertainment, you were going to take advantage of it. The mushrooms you seek from the forest to the players would be a randomized encounter, spawning somewhere within the forest maze.

Because you were without both Ingo and Emmet, the world seemed to respond to you differently. That meant that though time would never pass and it would remain a constant night until both the farmers went to sleep, you were free to explore and manipulate the world however you wished.

You kept your guard up, as there was a potential chance that you killing the Killer Bee Queen didn't matter. But as you traverse through the woods, you're kept unusually safe. It could be because you were not a "player" vessel there would be no enemies for you to encounter.

In fact despite this being a dangerous forest in this world, no monsters come forth to fight you. The air is hauntingly quiet without the droning buzzes of Killer Bee Soldiers to fill it. Though you were alone, you felt safe, even stopping to fill your canteen at the river, drinking a few sips before continuing your journey. The forest maze was always tricky for players to navigate. As often there would be a telltale guide of some sort. An enemy, a sign in the trees, or even perhaps a fairy would lead heroes either to safety or to their doom. But for you, when you came to the entrance of the forest maze, it was. . . different.

Where there was supposed to be a misty, thick fog was nothing. Absolutely nothing. With your expert knowledge of how dangerous the world was, the paths of the forest were clear to you as the moonlight exposed the naked dead trees. It was undeniable how bizarre this was but you presumed it was because...yourself are not a player character. You are not meant to be here. The maze was always a dungeon of its own, strange energies in the world generating a path never to be repeated before. Perhaps because you are not a player, the forest dungeon doesn't know what to do.

A stroke of mercy, luck, and a harrowing truth that was hard to stomach. No music. No fog. Just dead silence where even the smallest of bugs would not sing their songs. You walk forward into the clear forest aimlessly until you spot it. The mushrooms you needed.

The royal Killer Bee Honey had curing elements, which were vital to the potions you would make. However this elusive mushroom you needed is used in lesser medicinal practices as well. This mushroom had magical properties to it once it had been properly dried and grounded into a powder. However if a player were to consume it raw, they would go through an unpredictable journey of pleasure, euphoria, or even panic. You gathered the purple mushrooms before walking out in one direction, in a swift line back to your train where it waited for you. As you board your train, you watch from your window as you leave the edge of the dangerous forest... For your vision to darken, forcing you to blink, before you find yourself back at the mountain summit where your station is. No matter how hard you tried to keep your eyes open, traversing to and from different regions made you...fast travel, you would now call it. Fast traveling feels like though you step forward, you cannot see the ground. An immediate plunge of darkness that frightens you, forcing you to blink, before you arrive to your destination. How truly terrifying it would be to be trapped in that void. You slow your train to a stop and oddly see the horses of the farmer boys standing nearby. Their loyalty is odd as they never seem to need to be tied down to a post, but will stand there for hours at a time without needing rest or nourishment.

As you step off your train, you see the door to your home swing wide open as the two farmers immediately swarm you with questions. "Are you okay?"

"Where did you go?" "Are you hurt?"

"Here, eat this," Ingo says as his vessel places their hands forward, ushering you to eat one of the foods you had cooked with him earlier that night. You hesitate to reach for the bowl of pasta. "How long did I keep you two waiting?" You ask as you gently cup the bowl in your hands.

"20 minutes," Emmet responds back. "We were verrrry worried about you."

"Dear Golden Eye," Ingo begins to talk, "We urgently require you to tell us more about your predicament. A part of me still doesn't seem to accept that you, that you are, well-" "Alive," Emmet finishes.

You sigh and tilt your gaze down. Somehow your bowl of pasta is still warm to the touch, steam escaping into the air. "Let me return to my crystal ball. I can see you two from there. I should show up on the nearest crystal appliance either of you have."

The three of you quickly enter back into your home and you sit down, tracing a circle on your crystal ball and then, they can see you.

You appear just as you did before, but on one of their computer screens. Not a pixel image of you, as one would ordinarily see with your talk sprite but an image of you so human and real it was as if though they were facetiming someone. You all stare for a few moments in silence before you let out an airy laugh by exhaling through your nose hard, giving the twins a gentle smile. "Hello boys." Ingo and Emmet's face both seem to redden, their blush betraying their composure as they relish in hearing your voice. You're not entirely certain about their perception of you but that is merely because you did not know how much they adored you. "We have a lot to talk about," you say gently as you pick up your food. "Would it be alright if we talked while I ate? The meal you helped me prepare, though it never loses its warmth, I think it'll taste better, eating it with you." "Why of course you may!" Ingo says with warmth in his voice.

"We cooked our own meal too! Yup yup. Just like how you showed us!" Emmet comments cheerily.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you're seen as a person. Your worth and value is measured not by what you can offer, but by how other people yearn for you.

You did not know the full and complete answers to everything, and granted, neither did they. Though revealing the truth was frightening as you feared they would shut down the crystal appliance they were using to communicate with you, you were met with kindness in the end.

#my writing #pokemon x reader #ingo x reader #nobori x reader #pokemon ingo x reader #kudari x reader #submas x reader #emmet x reader #pokemon emmet x reader #self aware reader #hiiiiii guys so i've been depressed #some really sad shit has been going on lately

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