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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Hue and Cry II

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; abuse of power, threats, chase.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You find a place to hide for the time being.

Note: Got this done quickly and was surprised with myself. Gearing up to go back to work tomorrow. I’ll try to catch up on responses after work and check in with y’all.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You didn’t stop running until the dawn. You didn’t head for the village as you knew that would be the first place the lord and his party would look. You kept to the forest despite the howls and the hoots of unseen creatures. You stopped to bury your cap and apron under an overturned trunk. If it was known that Barnes was searching out a servant, it would be better to be less obvious.

As the horizon turned to a soft amber, you found an overhang and nestled into the small nook. You turned your back to the bitter morning air and tried to sleep. If you kept going, you would only pass out in the open. Your slumber was shallow and fitful. You were stiff as you woke up just after noon and climbed out of the cranny.

You feasted on nuts and berries gathered along your clueless path, eating as the twigs and branches pulled at your skirts. You weren’t sure where you were or where you were going. You could be out of the county or you could be five minutes from the castle. For your luck, you could have just gone in circles.

The second night you found a cave and slept there instead of pressing on through the dark. You were itchy from a brush with poison ivy and your feet throbbed from the endless trek. You got a few hours under your eyelids before you emerged and carried on.

What were you doing? Where were you going? If you did manage to evade the wrathful lord, what then? Knock on the doors of another castle and barter an apron with your fingernails dirty and your face wind burned?

The third night saw your stomach squeezing painfully as you failed to catch a rabbit and drank from a river eagerly. You slept between two broken logs and woke to the sound of hooves. You didn’t move as you listened to the voices. None were familiar and the only prey they spoke of was some doe they sighted moments ago.

“Nolan spooked the creature just behind the hill, my lord, if we hook around the lea, we might catch it by the stream,” a man said.

“I’d rather the stag. He must be close,” a deeper timbre replied, “you and Nolan take your course and I’ll search these grounds for the mate. Whistle if you sight our game.”

“Yes, my lord,” the other responded and the horses cantered away.

You stayed as you were as you heard the remaining man dismount and tramp over the carpet of leaves. You rolled onto your stomach and wriggled away from the noise and kicked yourself out from between the logs. You kept on your knees as you crawled around the other side and headed for the nearest tree.

His footsteps softened and you kept on, hoping your dirty dress helped you blend into the wild. You pushed yourself behind a trunk and pressed your back to the bark. If you sprinted out, he might just think you another frightened creature. If he sought a stag, he would be uninterested.

You nodded and readied for your flight. You took a breath and yelped as suddenly a figure appeared before you.

“I thought I heard a rustle,” the man said as he looked down at you. He was a lord, you could tell by the pin at the nape of his cape, “you look to be lost, my lady.”

“My lord,” you stood and bowed your head, “I only wandered too far. I can find my way back.”

“Way back where?” his hands went to his hips, “you look as if you have been wandering for a time.”

“I only tumbled and mussed myself,” you lied, “my lord, my apologies, I did not realise this forest was noble land.”

“It is easy to break the threshold of the common lands and the noble sprawl. It would be quicker on horseback to reunite you with your home, would it not?”

“I am grateful for such generosity but I would be remiss to accept, I might go on my way and--”

“Where do you hail from, lady?” he squinted.

“The village over yonder,” you pointed away from him, “it was a game and I did go too far.”

“And the village you speak of? What is it’s name?” he asked.

“Ildersin,” you uttered, one of the three nearest villages to the castle you knew.

“Ildersin? That is far and beyond my holdings,” he tilted your head, “one cannot wander there in less than a day so I warn you now to be honest or I would have your tongue out with hot pincers.”

You gulped and looked away from him. He stepped closer and caught your wrist.

“I could chase you down easy on my horse’s back, trample you into the mud, so answer me now or I will take you to the stocks,” he snarled.

“My father,” you said, “my father, he does beat me and I waited until he was abed to leave but I lost the bundle I did prepare for the escape. You see, my spare clothing and my food… I only did want to be upon my own and toil for one who does not lash me.”

He breathed through his nostrils as his thumb brushed the stitching along your cuff. He dropped your arm and his jaw ticked. His blond lashes flicked and he considered you and the dirt as one.

“You seek work?” he asked, “and asylum from your violent father?”

“Yes, my lord, er,” you blinked innocently, “I know not where I’ve found myself but I would serve you loyal if you would keep me from the stocks.”

“You can hold a broom? Empty a pot?” he asked.

“I can,” you assured, “my lord.”

“You have good manners for a farm maid,” he mused, “I might find a place for you in my kitchens.”

“My lord? You might direct me to the nearest village so I might find labour there, instead, I would not presume to further tax--”

“My castle is big enough, another hand would be more help than a burden,” he stepped back and waved you around the tree, “I will accompany you back to my keep and return to fetch my men… you look to have been out here long enough.”

“Truly, my lord, I--” you saw his impatience in the vein along his forehead and bowed your head, “I am most grateful.”

“Let us be off or my men might be lost without me,” he said.

He lifted you onto his horse and climbed up behind you. You’d never been astride with a man against you, it was awkward and crowded. He snapped the reins and the horse fell into step. He steered it away from your hiding place.

“Might I ask where I am, my lord?” you ventured.

“This is Astrens,” his voice rumbled through you, “And I am its lord, Duke Steven Rogers.”

Your heart sank as you recognised his name and your mistake. He wasn’t easily known with his beard, newly grown since his last visit to the Lord Barnes’ hold. He was of the few who were granted company with the miserly lord of the castle but there was a chance yet he did not know you. You were after all, only a servant.

🏰

Lord Rogers handed you over to his steward. You were reassured as you were given a cap, apron, and a new dress. You washed out of a basin and reported for your new duties.

It might just be far enough away that you wouldn’t have to worry about Barnes. He never went far from his estate and Astrens was out of the way of the capital. Even if it didn’t work, it gave you time to plot a real departure.

You were sent to the laundries to sweat over boiling cauldrons as you stirred the linens with a large stick. The steams seeped through your clothing and left you out of breath as you wrung out the sheets. You hung them outside along the line and helped beat out the old woven rugs.

After nights in the forest, your first day felt far from a return to normalcy. You were in a new place, you had new duties, and you didn’t know anyone in the castle. You’d worked in Lord Barnes’ manor since his father was still alive and you were only a kid. It was only a few years before Barnes took over but you remember it being much easy to ingratiate yourself to the staff.

You were shuffled onto a feather mattress in the servants’ quarters with three others. The snoring, snorting, and coughing kept you awake and you missed the chirp of crickets and scratching of critters. You woke more tired than any night spent among the trees and went back to the laundries.

Your days took on this pattern, sleep, eat, work, and do it all over again. You were forgotten among the other servants and it really seemed like you might just be able to hide among them forever.

Nearly a week into your time as Astrens and the castle blustered to a storm. All the drapes were to be taken down, beat, and washed, and all beds were to be stripped and redressed. Servants littered the corridors scrubbing, sweeping, and running from chamber to chamber. When you asked what the occasion was, the response was vague. Lord Rogers is hosting a guest.

You weren’t used to the rush. Visitors were rare at the other castle and rarely were they accommodated so wholly. If they had a place to rest their head and fill their stomach, Barnes felt they could not gripe. Even his greetings were not required on such an occasion.

You helped with the scourging and scouring of the linens and the drapes. You worked so hard you didn’t even have the energy to gulp down the lumpy stew allotted to the servants. You fell into the heap of your bedmates into dreams laced with your own snores. You dreamt of the forest and the sound of hooves.

Another early morning and the gears began to grind once more. Darcy sent you away from the laundries to help refresh the rushes in the entrance hall with several others. You scattered herbs over the grand carpet that displayed scenes of hunting through the seasons.

You wondered if perhaps Rogers was to be betrothed at last, the news of his first wife’s passing had sent many into gossip even before she was buried. Or maybe the king would make progress to the ancient grounds of the historic castle. You let your mind wander as your body was led by habit.

You heard the rolling of the carriage and the clip clop of horses. You followed several other servants as the tall doors were opened and you peered out into the yard at the party. You backed away as Lord Rogers emerged from the archway that led to the spiraling stairs and crossed the carpet. You could hardly hide your curiosity as you reluctantly followed the other servants. It would be unseemly to remain as Rogers welcomed his guests.

“James!” Rogers’ voice boomed and you stopped just outside the chamber as you looked down the stairs that led to the servants quarters, “it has been too long.”

“It has,” Lord Barnes’ responded and your eyes went wide as Deandra hissed for you to go. You couldn’t move as you listened and she abandoned you with a flutter of her fingers, “you know my father only ever called me James.”

“Ah, Buck, I’m kidding,” Rogers chuckled, “it is a pleasure to have you drag yourself from your hermitage.”

“You would make me regret it already,” the other lord chirped, “but the king did request my presence at the tournament and he did not allow for refusal. I’d prefer to travel with a friend, my only friend.”

“Oh, the sentiment, Lord Barnes,” Rogers preened dryly.

“I don’t know if I should be able to wait to tussle until the tourney,” Barnes jibed, “oh, this old place, has it been so long?”

You shoved yourself away from the door and clamoured down the stairs. You nearly tumbled down the last few and caught yourself on the wall. You sidled past Agnes and towards the laundries. Harriet called after you as you passed and rushed out the doors past the muddy puddles of dirty water and hanging sheets.

The grass was slick beneath your shoes as you raced for the stables. You only needed to hide there for a time and sneak out before they closed the gates. You didn’t make it past the first stall before you heard the steel whine. You turned as Lester greeted you with the tip of his sword.

“The master has been searching for you,” the toothy guard smirked, “oh and what a reward I shall have for bringing him a prize of his own.”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #hue and cry #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark fic #dark!fic #fic #series #miniseries #medieval au #au #medieval!au #mcu #marvel #winter soldier #captain america

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geekwritersworld · 3 years

Note

Hey, will you do an angst to fluff imagine where Henry Cavill’s dating a single mam of 16 to seventeen twins (boy, girl) and they’re having trouble warming up to Henry because it’s always been the three of them. There mam being with Henry had turned their life upside down and one day the daughter explodes at Henry because the paparazzi followed her home from work? I love your writing by the way. Thank you and have a nice day/night

Give him a chance

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader

Warnings: None, slight fluff ....maybe?

Summary: As stated in the request.

A/n: I am aware that this isn’t the best, I will make certainly make some slight changes to it later on, but I just wanted to have this out today.

Feedback is more than welcome. Please do let me know your thoughts. It really helps when you do post comments :)

He'd had tough times getting along with people. But he always remained kind and graceful towards them nevertheless.

But when Henry started to go out with me, I knew that my twins' would have a tough time warming up to him. It had been years, of its just being the 3 of us. For me to suddenly go out with Henry, was a big change for them.

There was a lot of adjusting that needed to be done, and neither twin was happy about it.

It had been a few months of Henry and I dating. My son seemed to have warmed up to Henry a little, but my daughter remained persistent on the fact that she wanted nothing to do with him.

Henry being the kind-hearted soul that he is, never verbally said so, but I could see it was obviously breaking his heart. And I'd tried to speak to Everlyn and get her to give Henry a chance, but she remained stubborn.

As of the last few days, Henry had been staying over, because I insisted that he does. He was hesitant because he didn't want it to get in my daughter, way. But I told him he had to.

My son, Isaac spoke to Henry occasionally. Though he was struggling to accept that there was another Male figure in my life.

But over time, He'd started to try and converse with him.

Evelyn, unfortunately, wasn't so easy going. She'd convinced herself that all men were the same as her biological father. She'd also turned slightly bitter towards Isaac for warming up to henry, but I remained stern with her regardless.

It was a different matter if she had a hard time getting along with Henry, but to throw her emotions at someone else because she couldn't handle them was unacceptable.

And so I'd had a civil conversation with her, hearing her out and talking to her. It was only natural for me to assume that after our talk she'd maybe try and loosen up with Henry, and she did try.

The tone of anger had reduced the next day, her responses remained short but kinder.

And I thought that maybe she'd finally give him a chance. Henry and I weren't the kind of people who liked going out much, so we naturally spent a lot of time indoors, whether it was his house or mine.

Henry and I had only been seen out together twice over the last few months of our relationship. Which of course was nobody's business, but I did know what I was getting into, when Henry and I started going out. The media, knew that their beloved Henry Cavill was dating a mother of two, and they'd seen the twins once, but we did our best to keep the attention off of them.

The cold weather of London chilled the marble floors, though it was only 3 in the afternoon.

Luckily, the bear next to me provided me with enough warmth.

Isaac, was at his friends' house, while Evelyn had decided to go for a walk. I knew she'd be back soon since she'd been gone for almost 2 hours, so I kept an ear out, for her steps.

"This is nice" Henry mumbled into my shoulder, while we sat on the couch, limbs entangled. His warm arms wrapped around my waist, his curls tickling my face.

The only response I gave was a soft hum.

We'd sat on there on the couch, snuggled up, the silence was a comfortable one, with the glow of the TV whilst it ran the next episode of friends.

The irritation was real when I had to get up and go to the bathroom, but I couldn't procrastinate this. Breaking away from my boyfriend, I went to the bathroom to do my thing. Turning on the lights on my way, of the hallway.

There are only so many things that I'd expect to make me rush out of the bathroom, but the sound of my daughter screaming profanities was not one of them.

Rushing out, I heard, what I assume was the last part of her rant "This is all your fucking fault, I mean what do you want? More publicity? Thanks to YOU I can't even take fucking walks anymore. They followed me because of YOU. Like as if I have nothing better to fucking do than answer questions about you. You will never be a father figure to me, no matter what my mother says. You're all the fucking same. All of you are fucking liars!" she ran past me into her room.

I didn't go after her, because I knew the first person I needed to question was Henry since he'd give me the unbiased part of what happened.

But walking into the living room, my heart broke. It broke at the sight of Henry slowly and cautiously sitting down on the couch, he looked like a lost puppy.

The confusion and heartbreak were evident in his face. But when he saw me walking in, the whisper and desperation in his voice, had my eyes brimming with tears. "Y/n" it was soft, his voice. His chest heaved, his breathing heavy.

"Bear?" walking around the couch I sat down next to him immediately. "Hey"

I put my arm around his broad shoulders. " what happened?"

"I- The fucking paparazzi followed Evelyn .and-" he took a deep breath and let it out" they kept bugging her about me and you" He bent his head and into his hands.

"Fuck" I knew that after this, getting around to Evelyn would be tough, really tough.

"Y/N I am so fucking sorry, for all that I've put the 3 of you through. Evelyn isn't wrong, I should just fucking leave. " he ran his hands through his hair. His blue eyes turning slightly glossy.

"No" It came out sterner than intended but I had to get things under control before it got too out of hand, and I lost the only man I trust and love.

"What?"

"No, Henry. Don't even think about it. I'll talk to her, ut you, you've got to understand that you have not ruined anything. Bear, for the first fucking time, Isaac, finally looks up to a father figure, I know it doesn't look like it, but he'd told me of how he feels less like an outcast now that he's got you. Henry, the paps following Eve is not your fault. You didn't ask them to follow her, you didn't make them. It's not on you." Henry's eyes were starting to brim with tears at this point " Sweetheart, you are not getting in anyone's way. And you are NOTHING like other men. If you were, I wouldn't be going out with you." Henry let out a little chuckle at the end.

But I now needed to go and deal with Evelyn." look, I'm gonna go talk to her, all right?" He nodded and pecked my lips when I got up.

I walked to Evelyn's room. I could hear sniffles, and as bad as I felt for her, I was quite irritated at what she'd said. But I'd still deal with it, with patience, because losing my temper, would bring nothing good.

"Evie?" I softly opened her door, using the nickname I called her only when she'd be upset."Yeah?" Though she was sniffling, I could tell that she was anxious. Anxious, of what I had to say to her outburst.

Her legs were wrapped around her pillow, which she hugged to her chest. Her black hair poked out from the top of her sheets.

I walked and sat down next to her, she lifted her head slightly and looked at me.

"Evie" I sighed, not knowing where to begin " why would you say that to him?"

"because he's like the rest of them. He's gonna be nice and fatherly for a year, and then he'll turn and leave. He'll leave and he'll never come back. And then you'll be hurt again"

"So it's not about the paps following you?" I tried to get a clearer idea.

"It kind of was, I mean when he leaves, his fans, they're going to tear us apart. they'll make us look like the bad guys and he'll be the good guy. And Isaac will just go back to feeling even more fan outcast. I mean, do you know the number of girls that have come up to me now and tried to be friends with me, because they know that you're dating him?" she hiccuped.

I understood exactly why she'd been the way she was. It all made sense.

"Evie, he's not going to do that. But You know how I know that?” I placed my hand around her after she sat up next to me.

"How?"

"Because your father never was as involved in our lives as he is. Remember when you told me your favourite book was pride and prejudice? well, Henry overheard you, and he's actually reading that book because he thought maybe he could try to converse with you over that. Your biological ass of a father would've never done that. Honey, Henry is one of the most humble kind-hearted man I know, he's been asking me all your favourite movies. Evelyn, fame doesn't matter to him. He loves being an actor not because of the fame, but because of how much he enjoys bringing those characters to life. Fame is something that just came along with it. " I could see her eyes softening, as I spoke.

"wait, he's reading pride and prejudice for me?"She chuckled.

"yep"

"I just thought he was into that"

"You have to understand it's a change for him too, but he's trying. But this cannot work if it's only a one-way effort. Evelyn, I know Henry, I love him so much, some nights I cry because of how much I love him." I managed to get another giggle out of her. " And hey, how many times have I said that I loved a man and he was different?"

"This is the first time" Evelyn wiped her face, and sat up straighter.

" I know it’s a big change it'll take time, no doubt, but come on, you've got to at least try, please?" I looked at her with hope-filled eyes.

"I'll try, I promise" she got up, walking to her door and then turned when I asked her where she was going."To apologize to your man"

I raised my eyebrows at her calling him my man, but I wasn't complaining either.

I followed after her and heard her talking to Henry, but I didn't want to intrude so instead I headed into the kitchen.

While the hot cup of coffee in my head cooled down a little, Henry walked in, smiling.

"How'd it go?" I questioned him.

"She-um- she said she found it hilarious for no reason that I was reading pride and prejudice"

I put the hot mug down on the counter and brought my palm up to my face. Facepalming I looked up at the man child I'd fallen for

" Seriously, that's not what I was talking about ' I shook my head but smiled regardless.

letting out a laugh, he threw his head back " Well she apologized and said that she would try to get along with me, but if i " messed with you, she'd fight me" he made air quite gestures which made me giggle.

"and then she said that she was extremely grateful for the effort I'd put into getting along with Isaac and her" when he'd finished relating their conversation to me, he'd let out a breath.

He put his arm around me, and hugged me tight, with his breath hitting my neck.

It had been a week since Evelyn and Henry managed to have a civil conversation, and today and I'd left early to get some groceries.

I hoped that having left the two of them home with Isaac didn't turn out to be a disaster.

I'm sure I'd missed a couple of things off of my list in a hurry and worry about the 3 at home.

So I was undoubtedly surprised when I opened the door and stepped in, and the first thing I heard was, Henry, screaming at someone to stop throwing beer bottles at him.

I couldn't put together what was happening so I quickly put the grocery bags down on the floor, in the middle of the hall, and walked into the living room where I heard him.

But instead of chaos and couch stuffing all over the place, Henry and Evelyn were sitting next to each other, in the middle of an intense battle in a videogame on the pc.

I'd stood there, with my eyebrows raised for a few minutes.

"That was my reaction too when I heard them"

I turned around to see my son standing behind me, and looking at his sister and Henry with his head tilted to the left and his hands on his waist.

"well, at least they're getting along" I laughed. Henry and Evelyn turned around at the sound of my voice.

"Yeah, while throwing beer bottles at each other"

"stop whining Isaac, not our fault you suck at video games" Evelyn sassed her brother, while Henry got up chuckling.

"Shut up Evelyn"

"why, would that make you any better at video games?"

Henry helped me put the grocery in its place after I picked up the bags off of the hallway floor and placed them on the countertop, while the twins bickered and sassed each other back and forth.

" glad the house is still standing" I kissed Henry's cheek.

"Henry! I'm no expert but I'm pretty sure Eve's beating the crap out of your character!"

"oh shit, I gotta go love," Henry said, running out of the kitchen.

#henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x you #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill daughter #henry cavill soft #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill imagines #henry cavill request

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night-fallz · 3 years

Text

XY’s Muse

Based on this prompt

Like I have stated before, this is my first fanfic. Please let me know what you think of it. Any kind of criticism will be welcome.

uploaded on 01/23/21

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Ao3 // Wattpad

previous II next

Chapter 2

XY was staring at the ceiling. A week has already passed. And he still couldn't stop thinking about the day he spent with Marinette. It was the most fun he'd had in a while.

Before the whole Silencer fiasco, his father would not stop pressuring him to produce a new song. So when they met up for dinner and his dad came up with the idea of stealing someone else's music, he couldn’t bring himself to decline.

XY knew it was wrong.

But all he wanted was the chance to finally impress his dad. Bob Roth might not have the best attitude towards him, but he was all XY had left.

Xy already lost his mom. He would not lose his dad too.

At least, that's what he believed. He should've known that his father was just using him for money. According to his dad, money was the most valuable thing in life.

XY scoffed. He should've known better. He should've known that all his father thought of hi-

He felt a buzz in his pocket and his face immediately brightened. Marinette just texted him!

Marinette: what's up?

Marinette: have u been inspired yet?

Marinette gave XY the idea to just sit back and let inspiration hit him. It was a common idea but it was one that most people tend to forget in the long run.

XY: nothing much

XY: and nope.

XY: my dad has been pressuring me to come up with something tho

Marinette: ignore him

Marinette: he's just mad cause he can't get any ladies

The three dots popped up on his screen.

Marinette: OH CRAP I'M LATE

Marinette: TTYL.

XY rolled his eyes and smiled.

They've been texting back and forth these past few days. He's learned so many things about her and vice versa.

It was nice. It's been a while since XY has had a friend.

Maybe she'll be even more, XY couldn’t help but think as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Huh," XY said out loud. "Even more"

And just like that, inspiration for his next song hit him.

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Marinette was thinking of a certain blonde-haired, blue-eyed musician when she heard her phone ring.

"Tikki!" she screamed, staring at her phone as if it was Hawkmoth himself.. "He's calling me. XY is calling me."

Tikki sighed and floated next to Marinette, "Maybe you should answer it. It would be pretty rude to keep him waiting."

"Right, right," Marinette answered his call and hoped her voice didn’t sound as squeaky as she thought it did.. "Hey."

"Hey."

There was a moment of awkward silence.

Marinette didn’t know what to do. She glanced at the small goddess.

Tikki rolled her eyes at their awkwardness as she gestured to the phone. Ask him why he called you, she mouthed to Marinette.

Marinette nodded. That was a smart idea. "So," Marinette cleared her throat. "Why did you call me?"

"Right, Uhm." Marinette heard him shuffling around his room. "You know how you've been asking me if I was inspired and stuff?"

Marinette's eyes grew wide and a huge smile took over her face as she started to nod before remembering that he couldn't see her. "Yep." she eagerly said, "Did you find any?"

"Yes!" Marinette could hear the excitement in his voice. "I was actually wondering if you wanted to design the outfits for my music video."

Marinette's eyes looked shocked. "Yes!" she jumped around in excitement before remembering she was still in a call with XY. "Why me though?"

XY’s voice sounded confused.. "What do you mean, why you? You're literally perfect for it. You're talented. Plus, everyone loves your designs."

Marinette’s cheeks resembled a tomato. She has never been more thankful for the fact that he couldn't see her right now.

"Thank you." Marinette managed to mumble. "That really means a lot."

"You're welcome." XY said. Marinette had a feeling he was smiling though. "I have to go and have my dad listen to the demo. But I'll text you later, okay?"

"Yep," Marinette whispered and gave Tikki a cookie. "Good luck. I know that whatever song you came up with is gonna sound good. No matter what he'll say."

Marinette heard a faint "Thanks" from the phone before the call ended.

Marinette screamed into her pillow and looked up and saw Tikki look at her with amusement. “I think I like him.”

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"So, what do you think?" XY asked as his father finished listening to his song. "Is it bad? Do you think people will like it?"

Bob Roth grinned at his son. "This is a Masterpiece. Where did you find this?" He gestured to the video of XY singing the song, "Who did you steal this from?"

XY's proud smile immediately turned into a scowl. "What do you mean, who did I steal this from?" He yelled at his dad, his blue eyes glaring at him as he grabbed the demo from the table. "I made it. I came up with it myself." XY felt his eyes tearing up. "Something you would actually know if you thought of me as something more than a money-making machine."

How could he? XY thought as he climbed up the stairs. Is it that hard to believe that I could come up with something good?

XY slammed his door shut. "All I wanted was to prove to him that I wasn't a talentless son." XY put his hands on his face. "I just wanted to make him proud."

XY felt a buzz in his pocket and immediately knew that it was Marinette. After all, she’s the only one that ever texts him.

Marinette: how did it go?

Marinette: did he like it?

XY wiped away the tears that were starting to come out of his eyes. He couldn't help but smile. Marinette certainly had an effect on him.

XY: he called it a masterpiece

Marinette: yes! I knew he would like it.

XY: yeah

XY: but then he asked me who i stole it from

Marinette: THAT JERK

Marinette: WTF

Marinette: THAT's SO MESSED UP

Marinette: HOW COULD HE-

Marinette: DO YOU WANT ME TO BEAT HIM UP FOR YOU????

XY laughed at her text messages. He only started to text her and he already felt better.

XY: no, it's fine

XY: i actually yelled at him

Marinette: ...

Marinette: do you feel better?

XY: actually, yep.

XY: he's a really sucky father

Marinette: for some reason, a lot of the blondes i know have a toxic parent

Marinette: it's kinda sad

XY: maybe it's a paris thing

They texted back and forth, XY laughing at the memes Marinette sent.

XY: You're definitely a daughter of Athena

Marinette: ( ⚆ _ ⚆ )

Marinette: is that a percy jackson reference i see

XY: yep

XY: have u read the books?

Marinette: duh

Marinette: you haven't lived til you've read the books

Marinette: sadly, the movies sucked tho

XY: I KNOW

XY: ANNABETH WASN'T EVEN BLONDE

Marinette: EXACTLY!!

Marinette: SJSJSJSJSJSJ

Marinette: THE MOVIES SCARED ME FOR LIFE

XY: oh yeah

XY: before i forget

XY: what's ur insta?

Marinette: which one

XY scrunched his eyebrows up in confusion.

XY: What do you mean by which one?

Marinette: i have two

Marinette: one as my personal one and the other one for commissions and stuff

XY: ohhh

XY: smart

Marinette: i know ;)

Marinette: my personal one is @Mdupaincheng and the one for my commissions one if @MDCdesigns

XY switched his apps and searched up Marinette's personal instagram. He clicked on the first result that came up.

The profile picture was Marinette in a blue, silky dress that went just above her ankle. There was a slit on her left leg that showed her knee. It was nighttime and Marinette was practically glowing under the city lights. She was staring at something on her right side, with one hand running through her silky black hair which was down for once.

She looked hot.

After XY stopped admiring her profile picture, he finally noticed her follower count.

She had 200,000 followers. 200,000.

It wasn't as high as XY's follower count, that was still quite a lot.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

XY: i didn't know u were insta famous

Marinette: wdym?

Marinette: which acc

XY: ur personal one

XY: u have over 200k followers

Marinette thought that she read his text wrong. There's no way that Marinette had that many followers. 200,000? There was no way.

Marinette: ur lying

XY: I'm not.

XY: check ur acc

It's been a while since Marinette has logged onto her personal account. The hate she got the last time she's been signed in was too much for her and when Alya told her to log out and just focus on her other account, @MDCdesigns, she couldn't bring herself to argue against her.

Marinette hasn't even thought of that account since that day. So when she logged in and saw that XY wasn't lying, she accidentally dropped her phone in shock.

Tikki looked at Marinette with a questioning look.

Marinette ignored her kwami and texted the blue-eyes boy back.

Marinette: HOLY SHIT

Marinette: I HAVE 200k FOLLOWERS

Marinette: HOW TF DID THAT HAPPEN

XY: when was the last time you checked ur acc

Marinette: about 3 months ago

Marinette: the media thought i was adrien's gf and his fangirls came at me

Marinette: i got a ton of hate and a friend of mine told me to log out and just focus on my @MDCdesigns acc

Marinette: so i did

Marinette: i haven't thought abt that acc since then

XY: the fangirls were probably just jealous

XY: it's been months so they probably calmed down

XY: I'm looking through the comments rn and so far the latest hate comment you've got was about 2 weeks ago

XY: you've got a bit of a fanbase yk

Marinette: WHAT DO I DO

Marinette: DO I JUST CONTINUE NOT TO POST OR SHOULD I POST SOMETHING ON MY STORY ABT HOW THANKFUL I AM FOR 200k

Marinette: HOW COME NONE OF MY FRIENDS TOLD ME ABT THIS

XY: don't post anything rn

XY: post a picture of yourself and the caption it something that shows ur thankful for the number of followers u received

XY: OH

XY: a few hours before u post the picture, make sure u post on ur story abt how ur back from ur break on social media

XY: that way ppl will understand why u haven't been active

XY: it'll also have ppl prepared for ur post and they'll be waiting for u to post it

XY: that'll give u more engagement and stuff

Marinette: thank u

Marinette: that was really helpful

Marinette: when should i post something?

Marinette: AND I STILL DONT KNOW WHY MY FRIENDS DIDNT SAY ANYTHING ABT THIS

XY: u told ur friend that u were taking a break from social media right?

Marinette: yes

XY: then they probably weren't expecting u to post anything so they weren't checking ur insta

XY: u should post something on the weekend

XY: that way ppl wouldn't bother u during school this week

XY: if u want i can help u come up with ideas tomorrow?

Marinette: yes, please!

Marinette: do u wanna come over

Marinette: we can plan it in my room so that ppl won't overhear us

XY: guess I'll see u tomorrow then

XY: just text me the time ur available and I'll be there

Marinette: make sure to wear a disguise tho!

Marinette: we got lucky last time and no tabloids caught us

XY: ur right

XY: we must've been really lucky if no one got a pic of us

XY: but okay

XY: I'll wear my best disguise

XY: goodnight, princess

Marinette blinked a few times, making sure she read the text correctly.

Princess.

Marinette: goodnight ♥

previous II next

This is the first chapter of the story. Please let me know what you think

1,967 words

Tag list:

@iglowinggemma28 @mica-aa @lady-bee-fechin @maskedpainter @snnoww26 @ravenr22 @spiritofchaoticdreams @ravennm84 @heaven428 @finn-cipher @peterxwade24 @aliceofice22 @queenamongthorns @captainmac6

289 notes · View notes

ink-and-flame · 3 years

Text

Kinktober - Intensity Undone

Kinktober Day 3 Prompts: No Prompts

Fandom: Original

Tags: exophilia, angst, hurt/no comfort, relationship arrangements

Pairing: Orc(M)/Human(F)| Darnok/Lia,

[Authors Note: Since the plans for Darnok and Lia had changed this is completely off script now and no longer following the outline. The way the rest of this goes is going to be as much of a surprise to me as it will be for everyone else. There are only a few more parts of this left for what I am considering book 1 of this overarching story. This is a bridge story that does not fit anywhere in the Kinktober prompt list. I felt it worked better as a stand alone as opposed to trying to cram kink into it or having 2 separate stories be one. ]

Lia had been ignoring her phone and email for days now, as she knew it was Darnok trying to contact her. Double checking her messages to make sure she didn’t miss something important for work, she sent everything to voice mail and ignored the rest. That last moment in the club played over and over in her head. The look of shock in Darnok’s eyes as she mentioned his engagement. Everything after was a blur and she wasn’t sure how she made it home.

Ember had been checking up on her every day, letting Lia know that Darnok was sending her messages trying to get any information he could on Lia. It was bothersome but Lia understood. She didn’t give him a chance to say anything, but she couldn’t. If she had risked it, she might have simply fallen back into his arms with whatever excuse he could come up with.

A part of her mind argued that she should have let him speak, should answer him, because what if she was wrong. Though that was the part of her that loved him and wanted to be with him. Lia didn’t trust herself, and whatever reason or excuse he had it wouldn’t be enough. At the end of the day she wanted more than what he was willing to offer, and she had to do what was best for herself.

The phone calls and messages continued into the next week, a few times it was Lucien or Zane calling to check on her, making sure she was ok. Thankfully they had managed to keep all of this from spreading outside their little group to avoid any drama or make things more difficult for Lia when she chose to come back to the club. Lucien had urged her, gently, to talk to Darnok and make a clean break if that was what she truly wanted.

Thankfully for Lia he had no idea where she lived so he couldn’t just randomly show up at her home without notice. Though she wasn’t sure if he remembered where she worked and hoped that he didn’t show up and cause a scene. There was a small part of her that did want to talk to him and she considered what Lucien said as the days kept ticking by.

Lia was in the back at work on her break when her coworker walked up to her with the strangest expression, she looked nervous.

“Uh, there is a car outside for you. A really expensive car and the driver said he was here to pick you up?”

Lia sighed and rubbed her face. “I’m sorry, I will go out there and tell them to leave.”

Lia only had a few minutes left of her break and didn’t want to waste it on this, but she had no choice. Walking outside she told the driver she was working and that he needed to leave. Regardless of his insistence that she get in. Turning around she headed back in and tried to ignore the situation. The car stayed right where it was for the rest of her shift and she was tempted to sneak out the back and drive home, but she didn’t want to risk being followed.

“Ok, my shift is over, clearly you aren’t leaving and I am certain that if I try to drive myself home you will follow me. Right?”

“I have been given instructions to pick you up, and where to take you, that is the limit of my instructions. But yes, I would follow you.”

Rubbing her face with a sigh, Lia felt she had no choice. Giving a vague gesture of acquiescence she waited for the door to be opened and reluctantly got into the car. She knew this was Darnok and not some elaborate abduction, though it certainly felt like one. Of course it did not make her any less angry and Lia held that anger close to her chest, she would need it to keep from falling into his arms the moment she saw him. Despite everything, she missed Darnok.

When the car finally stopped Lia took a deep breath in and waited. The door opened and she stepped out. A wave of conflicting emotions washed over her. She was at the hotel her and Darnok would use on nights they stayed together after being at the club. She wasn’t sure how to feel about this choice, but it did make some measure of sense.

The driver gave her a key card and a slip of paper with instructions on it. Rolling her eyes she thanked the driver politely, none of this was really his fault, and headed into the hotel. Making her way past the desk and up to the room she was relieved to find that it was empty. It gave her a moment to prepare herself, take a few calming breaths, and sit down to relieve some tension.

It wasn’t long before she heard another key card in the door and it opened. In walked Darnok, alone, and looking worried. Lia set her features as close to neutral as she could even though just the sight of him was enough to overwhelm her emotions.

At first there was silence as Darnok stood somewhat awkwardly just inside the door. He stepped closer and cleared his throat.

“Lia.”

Stopping him, Lia held up a hand. “Ms. Doran will be fine. If necessary I will allow you to call me by my full first name. Adalia. You have lost the privilege of calling me anything else.”

The startled look on his face followed by one of pain was all that kept Lia from breaking her facade. She did not feel anywhere near as confident as she sounded and knew that she would probably break before he did.

“Of course Ms. Doran, I understand. Would it be ok if I sat at the table with you?”

Lia nodded and gestured to the chair furthest from her, waiting for Darnok to take a seat. She had not seen him in a bit, but he already looked different. It was hard to place exactly what was different, other than her perception of him, and perhaps that was all it was.

“I know you are angry with me, upset, hurt, dozens of other things. I would just like an opportunity to explain everything to you. If you will allow it.”

Lia sighed and leveled him with an annoyed expression. “If at any point this starts to sound like excuses. I am shutting it down and leaving.”

“That is more than fair.” Darnok took a deep breath clasping his hands together on the table.

“I should have told you of my arrangement the moment I started to consider you as my sub, that was entirely my own fault, I own all of that. All of this is my fault and I will never be able to apologize enough.” Dar held up a hand when he saw Lia open her mouth. “Please, just, let me get through this first part or I never will be able to. I will answer every question you have after.”

Lia nodded and gestured for him to continue. Though the word arrangement already had the wheels in her head turning and she was certain some of her initial suspicions about Darnok had actually been true. Maybe they wouldn’t be where they were if she had just asked questions the moment she became suspicious instead of holding it all inside out of fear of losing him.

“I am in an arranged marriage. It had been planned long before I met you, and I have spent much of my adult life trying to get out of it. Well, trying in ways that will not shame either family or get someone killed.” Clearing his throat again Darnok looked down at his hands. “It was obvious to my intended that I didn’t want this, and as a fae, she is indifferent to all of it herself. She does what her parents tell her and that is pretty much that. Though she did notice and eventually we sat down and had a discussion of what is and is not acceptable for our relationship and how we appear in public.” Dar paused and stood up. “I need a drink, do you want anything?”

“Water is fine.” Lia waited as he brought her water from the mini bar and a juice for himself.

“Our agreement is that in public we appear a normal, happy, loving couple. Whatever it takes to convince the media, our peers, and our families that everything is working out. Privately I am allowed to indulge my sexual desires however I choose but there are rules I have to follow. I can’t be with anyone in our social circle, preferably I keep it out of the city entirely. I can’t fall in love or have feelings for my sexual partners. I cannot be seen publicly with them, and I can’t get anyone pregnant. There are a few smaller rules about visible markings and how I dress, but those are often overlooked.” Darnok took a swig of his juice before continuing.

“I did everything I could to stall the engagement or try to get out of it, but I can’t and my hand has been forced. Both families are pushing for us to be married by the end of next year.” He rubbed his face and looked sadly at Lia. “We have no love for each other, I honestly don’t even think she likes me. Our entire relationship is devoid of intimacy and even the barest shred of warmth. It is entirely a power move and my family was willing to sacrifice me as I am not the oldest son.” Pausing he shrugged. “You can ask questions now if you want. Or just leave, I honestly wouldn’t blame you. It is a fucked up situation that I made worse by not being honest with you.”

Lia sat for a moment, letting everything he said sink in. She toyed with the water bottle a bit as she thought of any questions she could ask. Really he laid it out pretty plainly. There wasn’t a whole lot of mystery, other than the whole arranged marriage part. She wasn’t even aware that was still a thing, but clearly it was.

“I guess the only question I can think of is just why? Why weren’t you just honest with me from the beginning? It seems like such a simple thing, you could have brought it up that first night, or if not then, after the first month would have been appropriate.”

Darnok nodded, knowing Lia was absolutely right. He should have been honest from the very beginning. It could have avoided all of this.

“It is a valid question and one I have no acceptable excuse for. The reason I didn’t in the beginning is because of privacy. I had gotten used to the arrangement and rarely had partners that I would do enough sessions with that it would be necessary to disclose it. After that though, I guess the reason was fear. I connected with you in ways I have never connected with anyone, I didn’t want to lose that. I kept telling myself you would move on, or I could just tell you the next month, but I always managed to find a reason to not say anything and it then became an issue of feeling too late.” Darnok looked down at his hands before continuing. “I guess part of me was living in this fantasy world where I could have both. I could keep the families happy, and I could have you which made me happy. I should have known it was impossible and I am so sorry for how much this hurt you.”

It was hard to stay in her seat, not run to him and throw her arms around him. She loved him, Lia knew that she loved him, but that love was poison to her heart. Even if he had been honest from the beginning, she knew she would have fallen in love with him anyway and it would have hurt just as much, but in a different way.

“At least I understand now. I can’t say I envy your position, and you should be honest with your partners from day one going forward. Privacy or no, this is a cruel thing to do to a person and I would hate for it to happen to anyone else. I am fortunate I got my club membership on my own merits because I like the people I have met there and I don’t want to lose that too. I am sure we will see each other at the club, but I think it would be for the best if you kept your distance for now. Even though I understand your situation, I don’t think I can do any more scenes with you Darnok.”

Lia stood up. It was the most difficult thing she had ever done, but she had to let him go. Mostly for her own sake. He was never going to leave his fiance, he couldn’t, and she loved him too much to be his dirty secret. Maybe others could live with that, but she had grown far too attached and there was nothing to be done about it now.

“So this is goodbye then?” Darnok asked, looking at her with sorrowful eyes. “You want a clean break, no friendship, no anything?”

“I can’t. I just, Darnok I can’t. Find someone else to be your sex toy. I am a sub, but I am still a person, and I refuse to let myself be used like that.”

Turning away from him Lia headed towards the door, she could already feel the heat of the tears in her eyes threatening to fall and she did not want to cry again, not now.

“Please wait!”

“NO! I am leaving and you are going to let me. This is on you. You broke everything Darnok, and you can’t fix this. There is nothing you can do to ever make this ok. Do not contact me again.”

Storming out of the room Lia all but ran to the elevator and stepped inside. She held it together long enough to make it down to the main floor and out the door. Of course she did not have her car, and while she did see the driver she avoided him and just began walking. The hotel wasn’t far from the club, she could see if Ember was there and get a ride back to work that way. As far as she was concerned Darnok no longer existed and she had to restart her life as best she could.

Thankfully Ember was there, along with some of the others she knew. The walked helped to clear her head and kept her from looking overly disheveled as the tears had time to fall, but the cool air kept her face from going too red or splotchy. Ember called it a night early and headed out with Lia, driving her to her work and then following back to their building.

Like a good friend Ember stayed with Lia all night, letting her friend rage and cry, doing whatever was needed to get it all out. It was necessary to heal, the wound had to be cleansed before the healing could begin. It was a shitty situation for certain, but Lia was strong and would eventually be able to move on. Until then, she had friends that would help her through all this.

#Darnok/Lia #orc boyfriend

20 notes · View notes

wingsofanillyrian · 3 years

Text

Lights Over Monaco: Chapter 3

Day late but here you go! Thank you to @acourtofcouture for beta-ing and putting up with me!

Chapter Masterlist

The six hour flight left Nesta well rested and refreshed as she checked into her hotel. She texted Jacob to check in and make sure none of his equipment had gotten lost on the flight. Having arrived a day earlier, he had been lurking around paddocks in hopes of capturing any drama on film.

He assured her everything had made it safely and informed her there were rumors flying about transmission troubles with the McLaren team. Nesta told him to keep an eye on it and unpacked her suitcase.

Nesta had just sat down when her phone rang. It was Tomas. Sighing, she decided she couldn’t avoid him forever.

“Tomas,” She answered coldly.

“About damn time you picked up the phone,” He replied, remorseless. He wasn’t earning himself any points. “What room are you in?”

She frowned. “How do you know if I’m even in Baku?”

“Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to find out flight numbers.” Interesting, he was keeping tabs on her.

“I don’t want to-”

“I said what room?”

Nesta sank back in the plush chair. Truthfully, she did want to see him, if only to determine what he had to say for himself. She couldn’t let go of the hope that somehow this was all a simple misunderstanding.

“Fourteen twelve,” She told him, instantly regretting it.

She heard him shuffling on the other end. “Five minutes.”

A knock on her door sounded a few minutes later, and she let Tomas in. “I saw the story.”

“Obviously,” Nesta scoffed, crossing her arms. Tomas reached for her but she stepped away. His eyes went bright with anger. She would not make this easy for him.

“I tried calling you.”

“I am aware.” Nesta picked at her nails to hide her trembling, trying to appear utterly nonplussed. “Did you sleep with her?”

“Yes.”

Nesta froze. Ever so slowly, her gaze slid to Tomas. Back straight, chin jutting out, staring down his nose at her. He still showed no sign of regret, nothing that would indicate he made a mistake.

“Why?” She rasped, fighting back tears. Tomas was not worth it.

He shrugged. “Because I wanted to. You and I are just fucking anyways. What does it matter?”

Nesta recoiled, blinking. “I can’t do this.” She had grossly miscalculated their entire relationship. Her palms began to sweat, her breathing increasing to a fever pitch. She pressed a hand to her chest, praying that the pressure would prevent her glass heart from shattering. Instead, it pushed the shards further into her lungs, making each breath ragged.

“Get out,” She whispered. Tomas scoffed, stepping forward.

“Nesta-”

“Out!” She repeated, more forcefully. She only needed to hold herself together for a few more seconds until he was out the door, then she could crumble.

Tomas’ face twisted. “Fine. I’ll see you at the paddock tomorrow anyway, I’m sure.”

Nesta let out a choked sob as soon as the door slammed shut. Her resolve broke, the dam inside of her punched through. Tears flowed freely down her face as she fell to her knees. She shouldn’t have loved him.

Before they had met, she knew he was nothing but a heartbreaker. He went through women the way a drunk went through a bottle of liquor. Tomas viewed women in the same way as well; objects to be used until they were no more than empty shells and then discarded.

Nesta let the grief crash against her for a handful of minutes before she realized how useless it was. Tomas would never love her. Honestly, she wasn’t sure if he was capable of feeling such an emotion at all. There was no use letting him affect her.

Gathering her strength, Nesta stood. She looked at the sorry image in the mirror, taking in the red eyes, the mascara tracking down her cheeks, the disheveled hair. She wouldn’t let a man crush her. She had made it this far by blinding herself to the sneers and derogatory comments thrown at her. Why couldn’t she do the same to get over Tomas?

But as she climbed into bed, she realized how flawed that mentality was.

**********

Sunday’s race kept Nesta busy. Lucien and Azriel collided in lap three, causing a safety car and ultimately leading to the pair of them being unable to finish the race. Nesta had seen it on a television hanging in the Mercedes garage, the entire team letting out a collective shout when Vanserra didn’t yield to Azriel in the 90 degree turn and the Red Bull tangled with the Mercedes. Both cars were a mess of broken carbon fiber and snapped suspension bits.

Nesta managed to corner Azriel and get a few heated words out of him, a rare bit of annoyance showing through his usual calm. “Vanserra should have cut into the corner more sharply. He was way off the racing line.”

“Some people would say that you should have backed off and yielded the position to him,” Nesta added, hoping to get him worked up further. “What are your thoughts on that?”

Azriel glared at the camera, addressing anyone who dared think the incident had been his fault. “If you’re not allowed to defend, what’s racing about, then?”

Azriel turned on his heel and belined back to the garage. Jacob lowered the camera and turned to Nesta to ask, “You don’t actually believe it was Azriel’s fault, do you?”

“Of course not.” Nesta’s attention returned to the monitors and she grimaced. The racing incident had allowed Tomas to move up into first. Cassian was only a second behind, but struggling to overtake. At least she no longer had to be invested in Tomas holding his position. She couldn’t care less if he won or not.

In the end, it was Tomas taking home top points for Red Bull, Cassian bringing home 18 for Mercedes and Varian with a handful for McLaren spraying the champagne on the podium. Red Bull’s one stop strategy meant that when Cassian dipped into the pits on lap 38 for a fresh set of soft compound tires and one of the wheel nuts got stuck, Tomas was the clear winner. Cassian had no way to make up the 10 second deficit. The 25 points Tomas’ first place finish awarded him allowed him to slip past Cassian and snag the championship lead.

And gods, was he smug about it.

Nesta told herself she didn’t care when Tomas sauntered into the press pen, his self-satisfied smile directed at her as he sat. Cassian and Varian filed in moments later, each silent as they took their seats. The room paused, Cassian’s hazel eyes flicking to where she sat front row. Everyone was waiting…. For her.

But her mind was blank. Not a single race related question surfaced. Nesta panicked, clenching a fist hard enough to feel her nails bite her palm. After a few beats of silence, the roar of the other reporters filled her head.

They had been waiting for her to ask something - anything - and she couldn’t come up with a single damned thing to say.

Jacob nudged her side. “You good?”

Nesta was too lost in the tangled web of thoughts to reply. This had all been a game to Tomas; his attitude now told her that. He had used her to gain favor with other teams and build a solid reputation with fans. After all, what better way to gain positive media attention than to have the sport’s most infamous writer in your bed?

She managed to keep her face carefully blank until the end of the conference. She didn’t say a word to Jacob as he packed up, shooting her confused glances all the while. The walls of the room pushed in on her, chest becoming tight. Standing on shaky legs, she fled down the hall, finding an abandoned alcove far from the cacophony of noise.

Chest heaving, Nesta tried to sort through her revelation. Tomas had used her. He had never intended to let this drag out. Those pictures had likely been a calculated move on his end, intended to spear her heart. Maybe breaking her had been his plan all along. He seemed to enjoy her emptiness, judging by the way he kept glancing at her during the conference.

Her phone vibrated. Against her better judgement, she checked it. It was only Jacob, asking where she was. She only texted back to say that she was fine before gathering herself. She couldn’t just crumble in a hallway where anyone could see her.

She had just began to head towards the exit when someone jogged behind her. “Hey!”

“Not now Cassian,” Nesta said, annoyance evident. How did he always manage to find her when she wanted to be left alone? It was like he had some kind of sixth sense, focused directly on her.

“Hold on,” He said, fingers brushing her arm. The touch froze her, muscles coiling. It had only been a brief moment, but the surprise of it was enough to disarm her. “You okay? You didn’t say a word at the conference.”

Her lips peeled back in a snarl. “Why do you care?”

He did not flinch. Most would have. “Because I’m a decent person, believe it or not.” She searched his face for any sign of insincerity. She couldn’t find any; his hazel eyes held only honeyed truths.

Nesta’s laugh was cruel, hot tears threatening to fall. “Right. Sure you are. Suddenly you feel like caring about how I feel instead of fucking with me. How about you leave me to my misery, Cassian? No need to rub it in.”

She didn’t wait for a response. Didn’t want to see the look on his face, whether it was anger or smug satisfaction, or something else entirely.

Nesta managed to make it out and call a taxi to take her back to the hotel. She was silent the entire ride, not bothering with half-hearted small talk. Collapsing on the bed, she didn’t bother changing. She queued up a cheesy comedy film, one that was full of stupid jokes that were funny when it first came out, but not relevant in the present day.

Halfway through, Nesta grew bored and checked her phone. There was a text from an unknown number.

You okay? You never answered me.

"What the fuck," Nesta mumbled, rereading the message. How had Cassian gotten her number?

Fine, was all she said back. She didn't know why she even bothered responding. Maybe it was because he had seemed genuinely concerned in that hallway and she felt slightly guilty for blowing him off.

I can buy you a drink if you come down to the hotel bar

Fuck off and leave me alone

Gladly.

Nesta let out a frustrated sigh and texted Jacob.

You gave him my number didn't you?

Jacob's response was only an emoji of a nervous smile.

"Little fucker," She mumbled, tossing her phone aside. She'd throttle him tomorrow on the plane. Right now, she was too hungry to send a snarky reply. If she slipped out the back, she could grab a burger without having to chance running into Cassian at the bar.

Grabbing a sweater - the desert got cold at night, she'd learned that the hard way - she made the trek down the fourteen flights of stairs, trying to piece together her life.

By the time she made it to a fast food shop, she was exhausted. She inhaled her meal in minutes, lounging in the dingy booth. She looked at her phone for what felt like the thousandth time, disappointed when there wasn’t so much as a text from Tomas.

She got up from the booth, tossed her trash in the bin and walked out. She took the long way back to the hotel, purposely winding through the streets. Why did she care if Tomas hadn’t texted her? It was her own fault that she had let herself fall for him in the first place. She knew it had been a horrible idea, and yet she had allowed herself to let him gain a place of importance in her life. They’d agreed on no feelings, and yet here she was.

By the time she made it back to her hotel room, Nesta was exhausted. It took her three tries to fit the electronic key in the reader, and she used her full weight to shoulder the obscenely heavy door open.

She didn’t bother with the lights, simply slipping out of her shoes and throwing her jacket in the general direction of the closet. She wanted to sleep; maybe that would reset her mind so she could feel less broken tomorrow.

“Hey-”

“Fuck!” Nesta jumped at the voice, fumbling for the lightswitch, heart in her throat. She squinted when warm light filled the room, shoulders relaxing when she saw who it was. Tomas, standing awkwardly by the desk, roses and a small box in his hands. Despite herself, hope bloomed.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, unmoving.

Setting down the bouquet, Tomas stepped forward to hand her the box. “I came to apologize. I know I missed your birthday and that I’m a shitty person. But if you open that, I think you’ll see…”

He trailed off, nodding to the present she now held. She opened the hinged black velvet, revealing a small diamond necklace. It was delicate, nothing flashy, but enough to make a statement. Nesta glanced up at him, heart warring with her head.

“Do you think showering me with pretty things will make me take you back, after what you said?”

“I think it’ll help, when paired with the fact that I-” He swallowed, trying and failing to hide his grimace. “I love you.”

Any and all sane thoughts left her head upon hearing those three precious words. Gods, she had dreamed of this moment for months. He’d only waited to tell her because it was clearly hard for him to say. But now that he’d admitted it, she could teach him how to love.

Nesta laughed, throwing her arms around his neck. “I love you too, Tomas. I always have.”

His hands rest on her back, not returning her fervor but she didn’t care. “Now will you take me back?”

The short answer was yes, absolutely. There was nothing she wanted more in the world than to wrap herself up in him and get lost. But her head knew that she needed to lay out a defense.

“Only if you promise we can make this real. If we can be together. Which means no more stunts for the cameras. I can’t keep writing about it like it’s nothing.”

Tomas tensed against her. “Fine. I can do that.”

The weight on Nesta’s chest eased. She let him lay her back on the bed, ripping at his clothes. She only let him pull away long enough for him to whisper, “I can’t stay the night.”

@aphoeni @planet-faerie @nina-zcnik @darlinminds @linsimin @that-little-red-head @teagoddess99 @enpointe10 @electronicstrawberrystrawberry @awesomelena555 @iptneus @weesablackbeak @wonderland–memories @nessian-trash-heap @magicalwaterfall @perfectlyimpxrfect @cassians-wings @valkyrie-archeron @acourtofcouture @nesemryn @chloepereyra @toastedroastedburnt @swankii-art-teacher @illyrianshadowhunter @bakingandbooks3 @maastrash @candid-confetti @flamingveritas @silentquartz @suckmykawaiidesu @18moneytoad @frosted-crackers @maybekindasortaace @lysandra-tiara9 @rowaelinismyotp @jlinez

#lom #my writing #nesta archeron #cassian #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #a court of war and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acotar fanfiction #nessian #nessian fanfiction

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gffa · 4 years

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THE JEDI AS NATURAL, INSTINCTIVE TEACHERS IS A FUNDAMENTAL TO WHO THEY ARE AT THE CORE. For @jedijune‘s theme for Saturday, June 13th: Teaching/Learning

Taking a Closer Look at the Jedi Order in Star Wars Canon [Meta/Reference Guide]: Chapter 3: Teaching Is A Central Theme To The Jedi

Teaching is a central theme to the Jedi: Obi-Wan: “You’d make a good teacher.” Anakin: “No thanks.” Obi-Wan: “Anakin, teaching is a privilege. And it’s part of a Jedi’s responsibility to help train the next generation.” [Star Wars: The Clone Wars movie]

“Master Yoda said we never stop learning. Perhaps the Master is meant to be as much a student as the Padawan. I may not be the teacher that Qui-Gon was. But I am the one that Anakin has.” (–Obi-Wan Kenobi, Age of the Republic: Obi-Wan Kenobi #1)

Henry Gilroy and Dave Filoni on establishing Yoda as a teacher early on: Gilroy: "There were elements that we really wanted to explore, and that was things that were classic to Yoda, as a teacher. We thought this was a great opportunity to show how the Jedi interact with the clones. Specifically Yoda in a teaching role, of the clones, who were socially new, who were created to fight, and he really broadened their horizons, and helped them realize there was a great big universe out there that was bigger than just fighting and killing.“ Filoni: "You see Yoda teaching the clones, much like he taught Luke, ‘cause that was kind of natural for them, a natural instinct to take these clones like their students. And it really allowed Yoda to have a scene that was reminiscent of a scene we both liked growing up, when he was teaching Luke.” (Star Wars: The Clone Wars, “Ambush” commentary)

George Lucas on education (who believes it is the most fundamental issue): “Plato didn’t teach [in the sense of drilling answers into them] people anything. All he did was ask questions. The process was asking questions–'Why is the sky blue?’ It was purely a reverse of us feeding you all the information and [instead] teaching the kids how to learn.” I find this is often the answer for why Yoda or the other Jedi don’t just lecture on the answers re: Force theology, because the narrative believe/creator’s belief is that it’s more important to teach how to ask a question than to drill in an answer. A direct example is Yoda’s teachings to Ahsoka in “Teach You, I Will” getting her to think for herself and how George Lucas talks in an Empire Strikes Back documentary about Yoda’s bizarre speech patterns being about getting the audience to really stop and think about what the weird little frog man is saying.

JEDI PHILOSOPHY + TEACHINGS:

The Jedi did not see themselves as infallible or that failure was something any of them could avoid, even for their most esteemed Council members: Depa Billaba: "We cannot deny, Masters, that I failed you. Failed you on a massive scale.“ Obi-Wan Kenobi: "A lack of failure has never been a prerequisite to service, else none of us would be here. Welcome back to the Council, Master Billaba.” [Kanan: The Last Padawan]

The Jedi do not see themselves as a source of the light side of the Force, but rather the other way around. In Darth Vader: Dark Lord of the Sith, Jocasta faces off against Vader and says: “You are [Palpatine’s] tool. Little better than a droid, set to stamp out the light side of the Force. But this is impossible. The Force is eternal. It cannot be ended, it cannot be stopped, not so long as life exists.“ showing that, even if all the Jedi were dead, they knew that the light would still find its way in the galaxy, because the Force is eternal, the Force is in all life, the light is in all life, so long as that life exists.

“The Jedi can guide. We can teach. We can help people to help themselves. But we are not an army. If a people are truly determined to write themselves out of existence, there is little we can do.” [Obi-Wan & Anakin]

Questions are shown as natural and a good thing: “A child, Anakin remains. His path before coming to us, difficult. His questions, natural.” [–Yoda, Obi-Wan & Anakin] "I have no issues with Anakin. He is asking questions, as he should be at his age.“ [–Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan & Anakin]

It’s not just younglings that should be asking questions, but everyone: "Answers, did you find?” "I did. And as often is with the Force, more questions.“ "Mmmm. Good, questions are. Ask them we must. Certainty in our understanding, to arrogance it leads. To the dark side.” [–Yoda, Qui-Gon, Age of the Republic - Qui-Gon Jinn #1]

Questions and determining your own path tend to be a big theme with the Jedi, that everyone must determine what they want for themselves, what they understand the Force has laid out their path to be and whether they want that, like with the above, and when it’s woven into the very decision that Ezra has to make, that Kanan can’t just tell him what to do on this: “Which way is the right way? “The wrong question, that is.” “I’m sorry. I don’t understand. To be honest, I don’t even know what I’m doing here.” “A better question, that is.” “Kanan said I was gonna be tested, but he never said what for or why.” “And your Master tell you everything, must he?” “Well– No.” “Your path you must decide.” [–Ezra and Yoda, Star Wars Rebels, “Path of the Jedi”]

Obi-Wan taught Anakin that things should not be trampled just for acting according to their nature, instead (when they can) use the Force to move them along: "These beasts are nearly mindless, Anakin. I can feel it. They are merely following their nature, they should not die simply because they crossed our path. Use the Force to send them on their way.” [Obi-Wan & Anakin]

Henry Gilroy says a similar thing with: "Obi-Wan truly is a Jedi in that he’s like, ‘Okay, I’m not going to murder these creatures [in the Ryloth arc of The Clone Wars]. They’re starving to death. They’ve basically been unleashed against these people as a weapon, but it’s not their fault. They’re just doing what they do. They’re just animals who wanna eat.’ [Aggressive Negotiations Interview]

Ezra says he saw his parents and Kanan tells him what the Jedi teach: "I saw them, Kanan. My parents. I-- I can't explain how." "The Jedi teach that life doesn't cease at death, merely changes form in the Force. Your parents are alive inside you, Ezra. They will be. Always." [Star Wars Rebels, "Legacy"]

JEDI AND THEIR STUDENTS:

A great emphasis is placed on teachers and students working together: “Yoda cocked his head. ‘Adapt he must as well. Cooperation is learned not through individual effort. Only together can you progress.’” [Master and Apprentice] Yoda also says the bond between a Master and a Padawan is sacred. [Dooku: Jedi Lost]

Jedi are never really done being students/being tested, even when they become teachers and Masters themselves, that students teach Masters just as Masters teach students, and their tests reflect this: "But surely I should have been informed if you were testing my Padawan?“ "Who says the lesson was for him?” Bant said, smiling at her old friend. Obi-Wan’s jaw dropped. "You were testing me?“ "For both of you, the test was,” Yoda told him. Mace nodded. "A reminder that while Padawans must listen to their masters…“ "Teachers must also listen to their pupils,” Bant concluded. [Choose Your Destiny: Obi-Wan & Anakin]

“This is why we study. Why we learn. Skill is the child of patience.“ [Obi-Wan & Anakin]

"Your mission was never about [bringing back] the book. It was about everything you did to find it. All the challenges you had to face along the way. And you overcame them all.” "It was a test.“ "It was a journey, the next step in your training, and you succeeded in every way that mattered.” (–Luminara Unduli, Barriss Offee, Star Wars Adventures #20)

EARLY JEDI TEACHINGS/JEDI PHILOSOPHY 101:

As an overview of what Jedi teach as the early and foundational lessons, across multiple media, we see that meditation and self-reflection are just as important as bonding with their sacred crystal and practicing with their lightsaber, which then also connects with how so much of the early teachings Kanan gives Ezra when they're just starting are just as much/more focused on connection and understanding of self. (As detailed below this!) [Age of the Republic: Obi-Wan Kenobi + Kanan: The Last Padawan + Obi-Wan & Anakin]

One of the very first training sessions we see Kanan giving to Ezra–and thus informing our understanding of the foundations of Jedi teachings–is to have Ezra doing a handstand and tells him to, “Focus. Focus on letting go.” Eventually, trying to toss objects at him to get him into letting the Force move through him, hear its whispers instead of shouting at it. Before Kanan brings out his lightsaber to practice with, he wants Ezra to first mentally focus. [Star Wars Rebels, “Rise of the Old Masters”]

Another one of the earliest lessons Kanan teaches Ezra, putting it as one of the foundations of Jedi teachings is how they're connected to other beings: “Step outside of yourself. Make a connection with another being.” as he teaches Ezra to connect with a loth-cat. “I just don’t see the point of this.” “The point is that you’re not alone. You’re connected to every living thing in the universe.” [Star Wars Rebels, “Empire Day”]

When Kanan first starts training Ezra, he repeats Yoda’s saying of, “Do or do not. There is no try.” When Ezra questions it, Kanan says that he really doesn’t understand it, either. By the end of the episode, after Kanan realizes Luminara can’t train Ezra, that he has to commit to Ezra instead of half-assing this, he says: "I– Ezra. I’m not gonna try to teach you anymore. If all I do is try, that means I don’t truly believe I can succeed. So from now on, I will teach you.“ [Star Wars Rebels, “Rise of the Old Masters”]

Another early lesson is that Ezra must be honest with himself to advance as a Jedi: “Ezra, you’ll never advance as a Jedi if you can’t be honest with yourself, at least.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “It means Tseebo matters to you. You do care what happens to him.” [Star Wars Rebels, “Gathering Forces”]

Which is then reaffirmed later in that same episode: “I got news for you, kid. Everyone’s afraid, but admitting it as you just did makes you braver than most, and it’s a step forward.” [–Kanan Jarrus, Star Wars Rebels, “Gathering Forces”]

Ezra has trouble moving forward in the first season because discipline and focus are fundamental to being a Jedi: “But you said I was a Jedi. Why else would you be training me?” “I never said you were a Jedi. I said you had the potential to become one. But you lack discipline, focus.” [Star Wars Rebels, “Path of the Jedi”]

JEDI CULTURE:

Jedi younglings (at least the diurnal ones) wake at dawn to meditate on the three pillars–the Force, Knowledge, and Self-Discipline. Then they go to the refectory for lunch, where Dooku always likes to sit next to Sifo-Dyas. [Dooku: Jedi Lost]

The Jedi have a strong aesthetic that echoes the deepest parts of the Force–all circles and lines. Time and the Force and the Jedi are all connected circles and arcing lines.

“You must not grow too attached, too fond, too in love with life as it is now. The emotions are valuable and should not be suppressed… but you must learn to rule them, Padawan, lest they rule you.“ (Kanan: The Last Padawan)

“This man is perverting our sacred teachings to prey upon a vulnerable people. I can think of little my tongue could say better than my saber in this instance.” “Dissolve your hostility, Padawan. Channel your frustrations into an appropriate emotion. Violence, as always, is a last resort.” “Of course. Apologies, Master.” “A fire burns inside of you, Padawn. That, in itself, is not inherently wrong. It is my job to help you temper it.” [Jedi of the Republic - Mace Windu]

JEDI AND FACING THE DARK SIDE:

“The fact that everything must change and that things come and go through [Anakin’s] life and that he can’t hold onto things, which is a basic Jedi philosophy that he isn’t willing to accept emotionally.” (George Lucas, Attack of the Clones commentary)

The Jedi test from the Rebels episode “Path of the Jedi” novelization on facing their fears/the dark side within them: "This test was not designed solely for the apprentice. It was also a test for the master, for facing one’s fears was a lifelong struggle.” (Ezra’s Duel with Danger)

The test is specifically designed by the Jedi–as is the same test on Ilum for the Jedi younglings that they all had to face–to face their fears, because it didn’t just happen one time, it was something they faced all their lives, younglings and Knights and Masters, all of them. This is why Ezra has to face it in Rebels, why Luke has to face it on Dagobah, why Rey has to face it on Ahch-To, the Jedi have always had to face the darkness within themselves and work beyond it.

Kanan also says it plainly as they enter the Temple: “In here, you’ll have to face your worst fears and overcome them.” It’s pretty obvious that’s what happening when the Temple shows him a vision of the Grand Inquisitor killing Kanan and Ezra has to pick himself back up, admit what he’s feeling so he can face the fears again, and understand that he has to let them go and then it cannot hurt him here, the Grand Inquisitor’s blade passes right through him. It’s then Yoda’s voice calls to him and we see that Ezra letting go of those fears allow him to move forward: “Big fears have you faced, young one.” “Yes.” “Hmm. For what lies ahead, ready are you?” “I am.” “Come. See more clearly what you could not see before.” [Star Wars Rebels, “Path of the Jedi”]

When Cal is struggling with facing his fears and needs to create a new lightsaber, Cere gives him a pep talk and they head off to Ilum, where she tells him: “You will be tested. I don’t mean just here [on Ilum]. Every Jedi faces the dark side. And it’s very easy to fail. We will always struggle. But that is the test. It’s the choice to keep fighting that makes us who we are." [–Cere Junda, Jedi: Fallen Order]

THE THEME OF GEORGE LUCAS’ MOVIES:

George Lucas says, “All of my movies are about one thing. Which is the fact that the only prison you’re in is the prison of your mind. And if you decide to open the door and get out, you can. There’s nothing stopping you.“ –George Lucas (American Voices, 2015)

Which is reflected in the teachings of the Jedi, which further shows they’re in line with the narrative intentions of Star Wars: Petro: “You-you said we would be trapped.” Yoda: “Not by the cave you were but by your mind. Lessons, you have learned. Find courage, you did. Hope, patience Trust, confidence, and selflessness.” (The Clone Wars, “The Gathering”)

#jedi order #jedi june #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #mace windu #ahsoka tano #luke skywalker #george lucas #meta #long post

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fiveisnumber1 · 4 years

Text

Timeless - Five Hargreeves x Reader

Word Count: 3828

Warnings: None

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23

_________________________

Pt 11 - Lost In The Past

You didn't know how long it had been since you started crying but there came a point where you could cry no more. The tears no longer fell and your screams were nothing more than gasps of air. You felt empty like every last bit of emotion inside you was just released into the hollow house. Wiping the tears from your eyes you felt a gentle hand stroke your hair.

"There there, why don't we go get you some food to eat? You must be hungry after all that crying." Grace says

You turn your head to look at her and give her a small nod. Grace extends her hand to help you stand from the floor and when you stand she wraps an arm around you, guiding you to the kitchen. Sitting you down at the kitchen table, Grace starts to cook while you try to come to terms with your new reality. You had so many questions and yet you weren't sure if you had the words to vocalize them.

"Grace?" You call

"Hm?" She replies

"What happened since I've been gone?" You question softly

"Well George W. Bush served as president until 2008 when Barack Obama was elected to the presidency. The company Apple invented the iPhone in 2007 which revolutionized technology by giving phones touch screens. Youtube, Facebook, and other social media platforms grew to international success during the time you were gone. The-" Grace replies but you cut her off

"No, I mean...what happened here?" You say

Grace stops cooking for a second and turns to you.

"Oh. Well, you and Five went missing on the same day eleven years ago and things were never quite the same. Your disappearances took a toll on both your family and ours. I remember that about three years after you left, your parents packed up and moved to wherever they went. They were so distraught and I don't blame them it's very difficult to lose a child. I recall that back then Diego really tried his best to track them down in case you ever came back."

"What happened to Diego? And the others?"

"Diego left the house right when he turned eighteen, and Vanya, Klaus, and Allison left shortly thereafter which happened about six or so years ago. Luther stayed but now he's up on the moon doing some important research for Mr. Hargreeves!"

"You forgot about Ben." You state

"Oh right...Ben. Ben died on a mission in 2006. I don't know if you saw in the courtyard but there's a memorial statue for him there."

"He died?" You reply shocked

Grace nods.

"Yes and that was the straw that broke the camel's back, after you and Five went missing, and Ben's death, the rest of the children had no desire to stay in the house. It's difficult having to lose all your children one by one..." Grace states before putting on a chipper voice "Anyway here's a grilled cheese sandwich!"

"Oh." You say surprised at her quick shift of emotion "Uh, thank you."

"No problem (Y/N). Feel free to walk around the house and if you need anything else just ask! I'll be in the laundry room." Grace says before leaving

As she exits the kitchen and heads upstairs to the laundry room, you stare at the grilled cheese before pushing the plate away and putting your face in your hands. Everything felt like it was moving at a million miles per hour and you couldn't make it stop. You needed to get your mind off of things. Lifting you head out of your hands you stand up and grab your sandwich off the plate and walk towards a calendar on the kitchen wall. It read November 22nd, 2013. You shook your head and decided to leave the room. Strolling out of the kitchen and around the Umbrella Academy, you look at paintings of the former academy members. With each painting, the number of kids grew less and less as if time was making them disappear. You continue to walk around as you eat your sandwich taking in the empty sights. Passing different rooms, memories replayed in your mind so strongly that it was like you were right there in them again. You could practically see and hear the Hargreeves kids running down the halls and fighting with each other in those dumb uniforms they used to wear but you knew those experiences were just in your mind. This building had become a haunted house filled with the ghosts of past memories that would never come back. Looking outside at the snowy scene you decide to brave the elements and head out to the courtyard. This time instead of frantically looking for signs of life you take in the sight of death. You make your way over to the statue of what looks to be an older version of Ben. The statue has a solemn look on its face as it looks down on you.

"I guess you're the only one left here." You comment to the statue

You got no response. You didn't expect one but it was worth a shot. You looked down at the pedestal the statue was on and read the epitaph.

May the darkness within you find peace in the light

You wrote that to him in the journal you gave him for all of your 13th birthdays. Things really had changed while you were gone. With the cold starting to set in, you head back inside and go stand in the parlor next to the fireplace. Looking up at the painting of Five once more, a mix of emotions started churning inside you. Anger, grief, confusion, hurt. All of them overwhelmed you.

"You know this is all your fault Five." You start to rant to the painting "If you hadn't gotten mad about whatever it was you were mad about neither of us would be in this situation."

You pace back and forth in front of the fireplace, your feelings of hurt and anger growing stronger like the flames before you. You continue to yell louder at the painting in front of you,

"Oh leave me alone (Y/N) you wouldn't get it. Bullshit! Do you see what you've done? Look at me! I have no family, no home, no friends, nothing because of you and your stupid superiority complex! All of it is gone! Do you hear me?"

By this point, you were actively staring down the painting, pointing and screaming at it,

"I HAVE NOTHING! NOTHING BECAUSE OF YOU! I LOST EVERYTHING AND THAT INCLUDES MY BEST FRIEND! HOW DARE YOU FIVE! HOW DARE YOU LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"Child, yelling at the painting is not going to console your grief." You hear a voice say from behind you

Turning around you find Mr. Hargreeves to be standing there.

"Why do you keep the painting up then?" You retort crossing your arms

"I keep it up to remember the boy." he answers, "I told him not to mess with time travel but he refused to listen."

"He thought he was better than everyone." You comment

"He thought he was better than most people, not all, but most." Reginald replies "Now if you're going to be staying here there are going to be rules that you need to follow."

"Who said I was staying here?" You remark

"You have other accommodations?" He questions

You let out a huff.

"No." you reply annoyed

It was true, you had nowhere else to go and this was probably your only chance of having a home of sorts. You heard the stories of what it was like to live with Reginald and although you didn't want to, you knew that you had no other choice.

"Very well. I will have Pogo inform you of the daily schedule of eating, training, and studying."

"Slow your roll old man, training?" you question raising an eyebrow

"Of course. To develop your powers." He responds blankly

"Listen, if I'm going to live here and have to deal with your rules then I have some conditions. First, I will train my powers and let you research them but do NOT expect me to put on a little uniform and become the only member of the second class of the Umbrella Academy. That's not happening. Second, if you want me to learn something it will wait until the weekend because during the week I want to go to school. Third, I have autonomy of where I go both inside and outside this house. I am not going to live my life solely in one bedroom. Do I make myself clear?" You demand

"I see time hasn't dulled that sharp tongue and insolent attitude of yours." Reginald remarks

"Well what eleven years is to you has been like two hours to me." you retort

"Fine. I agree with your conditions and the schedule will be adjusted accordingly but you MUST stick to it and the house rules or I will not tolerate your requests further." Reginald replies

"Deal." You state curtly

"I'll have Grace deal with your living accommodations. Now keep quiet."

"One more thing. You got his eyes wrong, they're a brighter blue." You say gesturing to the painting of Five

Reginald turns to walk away and you flop down on the couch. This is not what you expected when you woke up that morning...eleven years ago. All of it was still so surreal and you didn't know what to do. So you did nothing, you just laid on the couch staring at the ceiling silently and let the world pass by as it had done already. You didn't notice how much time had gone by until you heard Grace call out,

"(Y/N)!"

"I'm here." You reply sitting up from the couch

"Mr. Hargreeves told me that you're going to be staying with us. I'm so happy to hear that! Now I have the pleasure of being able to take care of you too!" She says happily "Let's get you situated!"

Grace and you walk upstairs and into the hall that housed the former rooms of the children.

"You can pick whichever room you want!" Grace explains "Allison's room is all set up in terms of having girlier items, and Vanya's room is smaller but it's barren so you can decorate it however you want! Luther and Ben's rooms are super organized! We can always redo Klaus or Diego's rooms and there's always Fi-"

"I'll take a look at the rooms and let you know." You quickly shoot out

Grace gives you a slightly shocked look before smiling and saying,

"Oh alright, I'm going to make dinner then. Just let me know before bedtime so I can get some clean sheets for you."

You didn't mean to cut off Grace but Five's room was the only room you didn't check earlier. Going in there wasn't something you were prepared to do right now and it definitely wasn't the one you were going to stay in. It would hurt too much, not only because of all the memories made in there but because it looked right across at your old room which was now frozen in time. Passing the closed door of Five's room you walk down the hall and carefully examine all the other options. You saw that Allison and Luther had two of the largest rooms, and you were surprised you couldn't find a hole cut in their shared wall to secretly enter each others. Nevertheless, Luther had only left recently so you didn't want his room and Allison's room had too much of her stuff in it and you knew even with rearranging you couldn't make it feel like your own. Making your way down the hall you saw Vanya's barren room but decided against it because it was too small. Klaus' room was too messy even though he hadn't been there for years and you felt weird about staying in Ben's room since it was still his when he passed away. All that was left was Diego's room. It wasn't as large as Luther or Allison's but it wasn't as small as Vanya's. You still felt a little awkward about taking it but out of all the options it was the best choice. Hearing a bell ring you went down to the dining room for dinner. Mr. Hargreeves was already there standing behind his seat at the head of the table. You stood behind the seat at the opposite head.

"Sit." He commanded

You sat down and Grace dished out food for both you and Mr. Hargreeves. The dinner was silent, the only sounds were that of the silverware clanking against your plates. When finished you excused yourself from the table. As you were walking away Grace asked,

"Did you pick a room?"

"Ah yes, I'll be staying in Diego's room." You answer

"Well it's not Diego's room anymore silly, it's yours! I'll go get some fresh sheets for the bed."

As you head to Diego's room you quickly get an idea to try and make the room more of your own. Transporting yourself to your old room you grab three items before transporting yourself back to the academy. As you approach Diego's room with the items in your arms you see that Grace had finished making the bed. Entering, you place the items on the desk. The diary replica that your parents gave you, the music box, and the teddy bear that Five gave you. It wasn't much but the items comforted you. Putting on a pair of pajamas you got ready for bed. As you pulled the bedsheets down Grace appeared behind you in the doorway and said,

"Goodnight (Y/N), sleep well."

She started to walk away when you called out,

"Grace?"

"Yes (Y/N)?" she replies

"Do you- do you think you could tuck me in?"

You saw as her expression was both happy and sad in a way. Like there was a piece missing that you somehow filled with that question.

"Of course," She replied a smile coming on to her face

You got into the bed and Grace happily tucked you in. Pulling the covers a top of she couldn't help but feel a sense of completeness that she lost years ago. The house had been so empty since all the kids left, but now she had someone to take care of and although the circumstances were less than great for you she wanted to make sure that she could give you the best. Quietly, she turned the light off and closed the door so you could fall asleep.

After that day the Hargreeves house had become your home. Over the next month, you moved most of your stuff from your old room to your new one. Having your stuff helped to make the transition easier although it also made you miss your past. To pass the time, you religiously wrote in the replica diary about each day but instead of writing dear diary for each entry, you wrote Dear Five. You hoped that if he came back one day you could give him the diary to read about what you were up to so it was like he was always there with you. With some help, you got enrolled in school but wouldn't start until after winter break. Even as you settled into the routine of training and living, you still felt all the emotions that you had that first day. You knew you wouldn't get over them immediately but you wished you had a better outlet. Going to Grace one day you asked her,

"Grace, do you have any ideas on how to get these negative feelings out in a healthy way? I know they won't go away but I'm hoping I can make them less strong."

"Hmm. Well if you put the energy that you spend on those feelings into different activities it might help. You could play the piano again or you can take up a physical sport. I heard boxing is really good for taking negative energy out." Grace responds "Actually I think there is a boxing club in the area. How about you check it out tomorrow?"

"Alright, I can try that. Do you think they're open though, it is Christmas Eve." You reply

"If my knowledge is correct, this one is open 365 days a year." Grace replies

You nodded and once you had figured out where it was you put on exercise clothes. Grace bundled you up in a warm jacket and with that, you walked your way over to the boxing club. Entering you approached a desk where an old man sat.

"Hi, I'd like to learn to box." You say

"You're a little small to learn, don't you think?" He replies

"I have a hundred dollars that say I'm not too small." You state holding up the bill

"Can't argue with that." The old man says taking the cash

He escorts you over to a punching bag.

"Wait here, I'll get you someone to teach you." He says before turning his attention "Hey Kraken, get your ass over here. I need you to teach this kid."

Slowly a man steps out of the boxing ring where he was practicing and walks over to where you and the old man are. The old man walks away as the younger man takes off his gear. He says,

"Hey, I'm-"

But he stops abruptly. The man just stares at you blankly.

"Are you okay?" You ask

"Sorry, you look like someone I used to know." He says

Something about this man felt familiar but you couldn't place it. The man sticks out his hand to shake yours. You go to shake it but when you look down at his wrist he has an all too familiar marking there, a tattoo of an umbrella in a circle. You look at the tattoo before looking up again at the man and start to recognize the features of the boy you used to know, now all grown up.

"Diego?" you question softly

"H-h-how did you know my name?" He stutters

"I knew it because you do know me. It's me, (Y/N)," you reply softly

You can see the confusion on his face turn into a softer expression. Although it might not have been evident to his other siblings, Diego was a deeply emotional person and you saw that exact look you were seeing in his eyes many times before when you two were younger.

"No. It can't be. You look exactly the same, you should be my age" He questions, the emotion on his face becoming more evident

"Accidentally traveling through time will do that to you. Please you have to believe me Eggo." You begged

He was having doubts that it was truly you but that all went away when you called him that name. It was a dumb nickname you gave him when one time Luther refused to let go of him. You kept exclaiming "let go my eggo" as you tried to use your powers to get Luther off. No one else but you ever knew of that. Tears formed in Diego's eyes but quickly after he wrapped his arms around you and picked you up.

"Hey everyone! My sister is back! We thought she went missing but she's back!" Diego exclaims to the people in the boxing club

There are some cheers and congratulations shouted from across the gym as Diego puts you back down. For so long he hoped that you would come back and now here you were like a Christmas miracle. You were more like a sibling to him in the short amount of time he knew you than his own siblings were. Instead of learning to box the two of you talked. You explained everything that you had gone through and your current living situation. He didn't like that you were living in that house with his father but he knew that he didn't have the means to house you nor properly take care of you. One thing he did know is that he was going to make sure that after all this misery you could have a better life. Even though time had gone on and he was older now you were still like a sister to him but now you were his little sister and he was determined to protect you from any harm the world might throw your way. He was going to be the best older brother he could be to you and make sure that you would not have to face the life he did.

And so for the next five years, Diego was there for every important moment in your life, always trying to support you and make it better. He dropped you off on your first day of school when spring semester rolled around and every first day after. He went to every piano recital you had and sat front row. When there was a father-daughter dance fundraiser he went to make sure you weren't alone. He trained you and coached you in boxing and was there for every single match. He planned a huge sweet 16 birthday party using what money he had. He was the one who took you on your first college visits when you were 17. He took time out of his days to practice working on your powers. For everything, he was there and on top of that, he regularly took you out of the house to spend time with you. You were his little sister, his true sister and he wanted you to know it.

Along with everything Diego did for you, you were grateful for some of the things you had gotten in the Hargreeves house. After about a year or so you stopped calling Grace by her name and started to call her mom. If androids could cry tears of joy Grace would have the first time that word left your mouth. Pogo had convinced Reginald to get you a piano play and in an odd act of kindness, he did. Along with that, your powers developed greatly under the supervision of Reginald and Pogo. You were able to do more in terms of manipulating the molecules in the world around you and were able to start seeing disturbances in them as well. Life wasn't perfect but through the years it got easier. But although you were growing up and trying to move on with your life, even after all those years Five never left your mind for a second. You missed him greatly and hated that the last words the two of you shared were ones of anger. You wondered if he was still mad at you. Each moment of every day Five still consumed your mind and you hoped that wherever he was, in another time and place, that he was doing okay and that one day he would come back to you.

Check out the side story here:

The Missing Five Years - “Lost In The Past” Side story

Taglist: @xplrreylo @joebob15274 @insatiable-ivy @fruitsaladtree @angelpeachamber @academy-umbrella @lizziel1410 @ir3neeee @faith-quake @aliens-with-colas @eddiomyspaghettio @lady-celeste25 @im-dead-and-hurting @nerdypinupcrystal @cherry-ki-d @anapocalypseinmymind @vicassa @2cuteforyourlies @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @shadowycreationcupcake @macaroni-mads @metor-showers1994 @fivehargreevesforthewin @rinko-san @supernovavision @cicilisthebest @flickbix @hi-v-juice @magykal-777 @zosiaduda

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spine-buster · 4 years

Text

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 21

A/N: I’ve always wanted to write a super-tropey scene like the bar scene in this so I went ahead and did it and I LOVE IT, OKAY?! Also, if you haven’t seen, I posted Part 3 of my Elias story last Thursday. It’s linked on my Masterlist!

Also, just a quick note that I will be returning to a full-time job after Labour Day today. I have enough chapters written out that I don’t think I will have to skip a week of posting, and I organize my time wisely so that I still give myself time to write, but this is just a PSA/FYI that I may not get to your asks/canon questions super quickly like I have been over quarantine. They will still ALL be answered, though, so don’t worry about that!

Anyways, enjoy this!

February 18th, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was dejected.

The Leafs had lost their last two games, but these felt different. They’d lost to Buffalo on Sunday 5-2, and Buffalo was one of the worst teams in the league. It didn’t even matter that there were a majority of Leaf fans in the building. Now, tonight, they’d just lost 5-2 again, but this time to Pittsburgh. She couldn’t keep her eyes off her phone, with tweet upon tweet upon tweet calling this the worst game of the season for the team. Just an absolutely awful game. No effort. No heart. No soul. One that they would have to answer for at home, since they faced them again on Thursday, but this time at home. She didn’t even like hockey and she was taking everything to heart because, well – she was part of the team now. Everybody had told her that since day one. And now, at one of the lowest points in the season, she felt that.

She couldn’t stop scrolling. Couldn’t stop reading what everybody was saying.

It was Tyson who had volunteered to drive her home tonight. Ever since Morgan broke his ankle, it was a rotation of Tyson or John. When Emma picked up Tyson, she was just as nice, but she missed Bee. She missed seeing the way Morgan looked at Bee when they were in the car, because it reminded her of how William looked at her when they were alone.

Aberdeen shuffled into the backseat of Tyson’s SUV. Tyson was in the driver’s seat, and Emma was the passenger. Everyone was silent as Tyson began driving into the city – she and Emma could tell he was dejected and mad at the game that had transpired just a few hours ago. The short flight did nothing to quell his emotions. And as Emma laid her hand on his on the gearshift, Aberdeen watched as she moved her thumb back and forth, trying to tell him that it was all okay.

“Tys…it’s not your fault,” Emma said softly, finally, after what felt like a lifetime of silence.

“Em—”

“Tyson, listen to me.”

“—Emma, please, not right now—”

His eyes flashed to hers through the rear view mirror, but Emma wouldn’t listen to him. “I know it and you know it too. The whole defence is flawed. Plus, you guys are missing Mo. It’s not just you and you know that—”

“—Emma, I really don’t want to talk about it right now—”

“—and besides, if – or should I say when – you’re traded at the deadline, none of this will matter,” she dropped a bombshell. “Everyone knows you’re unhappy and it’s not working out and that you’re much better suited to play somewhere else.”

Aberdeen felt her body stiffen at the revelation. So Tyson was unhappy. Unhappy with playing on the Leafs. She knew he wasn’t having the best season, especially considering how successful he’d been in Colorado, but she didn’t think it was that bad. He’d gotten better when Sheldon came in, but apparently that wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to make him happy. And in Aberdeen’s life, happiness was important. It was almost paramount. What you did and who you surrounded yourself with and your work should, ultimately, make you happy. Was it the same in hockey? Were hockey players allowed to be happy? Were hockey players on the Toronto Maple Leafs allowed to be happy? Or was everything just a business transaction? A long road to the ultimate success of lifting the Stanley Cup, regardless of who got hurt along the way?

Tyson let out a long sigh as he continued to drive, choosing not to answer his girlfriend or say anything else. When they got off the Gardiner and into downtown, Aberdeen was almost desperate to get out. She felt very awkward. Clearly Emma and Tyson wanted, needed to have a conversation, and she was stopping that from happening. Just by being in the backseat. She almost wanted to just tuck and roll out of the car. Tyson could return her suitcase later. She really didn’t care at this point.

When he pulled up outside her condo building, Aberdeen almost didn’t want until he stopped the car and put it in park to click her seatbelt off. “Hey Aberdeen,” Tyson looked at her through the rear view mirror. She paused all her movements to stare back at him through the mirror. “I uh…I’d appreciate it if you don’t mention to Brendan, uh, you know…what you heard…” he trailed off.

Aberdeen stared back at him doe-eyed. She shook her head slightly. “I don’t…I don’t tell Brendan about anything I find out about you guys. I mean I would never…” she said softly, trailing off too.

Tyson nodded, smiling slightly. “Thanks, Aberdeen.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem.”

When she got out of the car, Tyson popped the trunk so she could get her bag. After one last thank you, a polite wave, and a push of the button to get it to close, she walked into her condo building. She nodded towards the security guard before walking towards the elevators.

She wondered if William felt that same way when he played last year.

***

February 20th, 2020

“Get ‘em!” Aberdeen growled as she looked down onto the ice. “Get ‘em!!!”

Brendan chuckled as he watched Aberdeen, her hands balled up in fists as she practically hung over the box. He’d never seen her so into a hockey game before, and he didn’t know what had gotten into her. “You alright, Aberdeen?”

“Get ‘em!”

He got a kick out of it. Kyle, too, was doing one of those silent chuckles and getting redder by the second. “Aberdeen, you’re going to blow your heart out. We’re gonna need to put you on meds,” Brendan commented. “You gotta remember that you’re staying until the proofs get here. You can’t waste all your energy now.”

Aberdeen calmed down a bit, but she was still on the edge of her seat. “Sorry,” she said. She knew she was maybe taking it a bit overboard, but she couldn’t help it. After the awful game against the Penguins on Tuesday, the Leafs were dominating them right now. Freddie was playing phenomenally, Jake Muzzin had just scored to put them up 1-0, and they were getting really good chances. It’s like the team did a complete 180 from what they were. She also knew, though, that she needed to stay at the arena later tonight, because the final proofs for the St. Pats jerseys were coming and she was the one who had to sign for them and place them safely and securely in Brendan’s office to see tomorrow. She didn’t know how long she’d be up tonight, and she’d need to conserve energy.

“Don’t apologize. I just don’t want you to have a heart attack,” Brendan smiled.

With the Leafs on a powerplay, Aberdeen was like a hawk following the puck. With Tavares, Matthews, and Nylander on the ice, she was praying for a goal. And then—

“YES!!!!!” she screamed as William scored a beautiful goal, jumping up in her seat and throwing her fist in the air like she was Bender at the end of The Breakfast Club. From beside her, Brendan and Kyle stayed unnaturally calm. Aberdeen looked over at them and tried to settle back into her seat calmly. “Sorry. Again,” she said, gripping the armrests of her chair. “But how can you guys be so calm?!”

“You get used to it,” Brendan smiled.

“Well, maybe you do, Mr. Hockey Player,” Aberdeen joked.

“Especially when the camera is on you,” Kyle added.

Aberdeen’s face dropped. “Oh my God, I’m not on camera, am I?!”

Kyle shook his head, his smile spreading from ear to ear. “We’ll have to see, Aberdeen, but I don’t think so.”

The Leafs dominated the rest of game. Kasperi scored another goal only three minutes after William, and Zach scored in the third to make it 4-0. Freddie got the shutout. She knew he’d be happy about that, despite his stoic reserve. As she, Brendan, and Kyle made their way to the locker room, Aberdeen saw the media already speaking to Jake Muzzin. She knew they’d want to speak with the goal scorers too, and so when she saw William and Kasperi heading to the media room, along with John, Freddie, and Sheldon, she wasn’t surprised. It was a good game. Hopefully the media would back down a bit.

She congratulated the guys and stood on the sidelines as Brendan and Kyle spoke to some of them once the media left. By that point, some of them were dressed and ready to head home. “Hey, you want a ride?” Jason offered as he approached her, tightening his tie around his neck.

“Oh, I’m staying back, actually,” Aberdeen informed him. He looked at her skeptically. “The final proofs are coming in for your St. Pats jerseys in March and I have to receive them and put them in Brendan’s office under lock and key.”

“Oh!” he exclaimed. “Well, I can wait with you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Aberdeen, it’s fine. We can grab a bite to eat afterwards.”

“Jason, I might be here until, like, eleven.”

“So we’ll have an authentic Italian-style dinner then. All the more reason since I miss my motherland.”

“Jason—”

“Aberdeen, are you really going to say no me?”

She glared at him. It was like St. John’s all over again. Before she could open her mouth and say something else, another voice interrupted her. “Why’re you giving Jason the stink eye?” William asked as he approached them.

“I’m gonna wait with Aberdeen until the proofs come and then we’re gonna grab dinner. You in?” he asked William, but everybody already knew the answer.

William shrugged his shoulders casually, like Jason hadn’t just invited him to dinner with his own girlfriend. “I’m in.”

Aberdeen rolled her eyes. “You two are insufferable.”

“I like to think it’s part of our charm,” Jason smiled. “Let me call Jen and then we can go trash Brendan’s office.”

*** It was about 10:45 when Aberdeen, Jason, and William ended up at a small bar none of them had ever been to that served small pub-style plates. It was crowded, for some reason, even though it was a Thursday. Aberdeen quickly learned, judging by the drink specials, that it was their grand opening weekend, and tonight was their first official night open. Opening on a Thursday meant pandering to the university crowd for sure (whose pub nights usually took place on Thursdays), but this place was pretty full with an older, gruffier clientele that were seated at the bar and congregated in small groups around the open space in the centre of the room, away from the few booths against the wall. She wondered if they marketed the place wrongly, or if they just wanted to fill the place so they could say they had a successful opening.

It was a bit loud, but she, Jason, and William ate their late dinner in relative peace. They spoke about the game only for a little bit before they moved on to other topics, making it abundantly clear to Aberdeen that they didn’t want to discuss hockey at all. The food was fine, and so, too, were the beers William and Jason had, but Aberdeen’s Long Island Iced Tea had way too much rum in it so she couldn’t finish.

By the time they finished, it was almost midnight and Aberdeen was starting to feel her fatigue. They were told to pay at the bar, so they gathered their jackets. Aberdeen insisted on paying for her meal, ever going so far as to run up to the bar herself, inching between some patrons in order to pay, before William or Jason could even get out of the booth. William, however, was right behind her, ready to Jason’s meal on his card.

“H—Hey! Hey! Look what we have here! Y-You’re Wiiiilliam Nylander,” a guy, older and very clearly inebriated, slurred out as he laid his eyes on them.

“That’s me,” William gave a tight-lipped smile, standing just slight behind Aberdeen, waiting his turn to pay.

The drunk guy focused his attention on Jason now. “You. Spezza.”

“Yup.”

He turned back towards William, shaking his head. “Teams like this can’t win the Cup. Esp-p-ecially not with this guy around.”

That caught Aberdeen’s attention. She furrowed her brows as the friend of the guy, obviously just as drunk, nodded his head in agreement. “Don’t have the heart like Dougie or Wendel. All a bunch of pussies now. Especially you.”

Aberdeen pulled her card out of the reader dramatically, turning her body so she could face them head on. “What the hell is your problem? There’s no need to be rude,” she said, her voice loud and firm.

“Aberdeen, stop it,” William said loud enough for her to hear.

“Y-Y-Yyyyou shoulda just sssigned the contract, man,” the drunk man grumbled out.

Aberdeen tried again, ignoring William’s plea. “Sir, this isn’t the time or place,” she intervened, but William’s hands went straight to her waist to move her out of his way so she wasn’t standing in between them anymore.

Suddenly, it was William closer to the drunk man that Aberdeen. The drunk guy apparently didn’t like that very much. “You’re damn – you’re damn selfish! Ssssselfish and greedyyyy,” the man continued to slur drunkenly. “Seeeelfish, no good—”

“Sir—” Aberdeen showed up beside William, refusing to stand behind him.

“I oughta hurt you like you hurt the fffranchise.”

Aberdeen’s eyes widened. That was a threat if she ever heard one, and even though he was drunk, Aberdeen didn’t like the tone of his voice. “Okay sir,” she chastised. “You need to stop overreacting. We’re just here trying to pay for our meal. This is no time to be a dick.”

“You know what? Let’s just pay at the other end of the bar,” Jason said, trying to diffuse the situation as much as possible. He even started to herd William and Aberdeen away from the drunk man and down the opposite end of the bar. “You have fun with whatever whiskey you’re drinking,” he gave one last look to the man before walking away himself.

“Fuckin’ pussy!” the friend yelled loudly at William, already half way down the bar now.

Aberdeen looked back. William had grabbed her wrist and was dragging her through the crowd so she’d get to the other side with him. She watched as one of them slammed his glass down on the bar dramatically. “Willy—”

“Ignore them, Aberdeen.”

“Yeeeeeah, fuckin’ pussy! Fuckin’ lowlife! Worst Leaf on the team! Shoulda traded you back to Sweden, ya Swedish piece of shit!”

The men continued to yell obscenities and taunt William as they stood at the other end of the bar. Aberdeen stared at William as he stuck his credit card into the machine, quickly punching in his pin. “Does that happen often?” Aberdeen asked him.

“Aberdeen, don’t,” he shook his head, refusing to answer her as he pulled his card out of the machine and stuffed it back into his wallet. It was as if he didn’t want her to know; as if he wanted to protect her from learning just how awful some “fans” could be – at least to him.

“Did you pay?” Jason showed up beside them. William nodded. “Alright, then let’s get the hell out of here,” he ordered, herding them again to lead them out.

It all happened so fast that Aberdeen didn’t really know exactly that – what happened. All she knew was that she heard the guy yell from down the bar. Then she heard the breaking of glass (commonplace in bars, really) and someone else yell “Put it down!” as she, Jason, and William continued towards the door. Then another voice screamed “Watch out!” and she, Jason, and William turned their heads to look behind them.

Then it hit her.

Literally.

A glass had been thrown – obviously by one of the drunk men who had been harassing them – intended for William, but it hit Aberdeen right on the forehead instead. She staggered backwards but didn’t fall. As she brought her hand up to assess the damage, she could almost immediately feel blood dripping down the side of her eye.

“Aberdeen!” Jason screamed.

William looked over and saw the blood on Aberdeen’s hand and it dripping down the side of her face. His eyes filled with anger. Jason, who was still looking at Aberdeen, saw the look she was giving William. He whipped his head towards William, who appeared ready to murder everybody in the room. “Will—William—” Jason tried to get his attention, but to no avail.

“Ohmygodareoyouokaaaaay?!” voices began to ask as they huddled around Aberdeen, William, and Jason worriedly, forming a protective circle around them. There were so many people, so concerned and so loud asking if she was okay that Aberdeen couldn’t even respond – she was too overwhelmed and too confused to even comprehend what was going on.

That’s when the two men ran out. When most of the people in the bar were distracted trying to see if Aberdeen was okay, the men had the wherewithal to completely book it out of the bar with nobody stopping them. It was only William who noticed, screaming out a loud “HEY!” to try and get somebody’s attention to stop them, but nobody moved enough for him to get out of the scrum around Aberdeen to chase him. William focused his attention back on Aberdeen even though he could feel his cheeks flush red with anger and tears forming in his eyes. She was still holding the area above her eyebrow cautiously as the bartender waved her over. Jason and William led her towards the bar, making sure she didn’t step on any of the shattered glass that now littered the floor. The bartender was already opening the first aid kit. William heard Jason tell everyone “It’s fine, it’s fine, we don’t need your help, it’s alright, we’ll handle it, we’ll handle it.”

Aberdeen was offered a bar stool to sit on, but she turned it down. She didn’t want to be on display for everyone to see; she was already embarrassed enough as is. “You wanna go into a washroom?” the bartender asked, and Aberdeen nodded her head. He led them to the wheelchair bathroom, since there would be space for all of them, and ushered them in. “The emergency rooms are just up the street. They’ll do stitches.”

William glared at the bartender. “Aren’t you even gonna call a paramedic or something? What about the cops?” he demanded, his voice shaking from the anger he was still feeling. “Can we look at security cameras to get a face?”

“Bro, we don’t want cops or paramedics here opening night. That would kill us,” the bartender said. William couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “We don’t have cameras installed yet, either. Just clean it up and take it to emerge. It’s, like, two blocks north.”

William felt like punching the bartender square in the jaw. And he would have, too, for being so insensitive about it, if it wasn’t for Jason opening the first aid box loudly against the counter. Jason, for his part, glared at the bartender too. “You can leave now,” he growled, focusing his attention back on finding what he needed within the kit. “Useless piece of shit,” he mumbled under his breath.

Aberdeen sat on the toilet, trying to collect her thoughts and emotions. She’d gotten hit with a fucking flying glass in the middle of a bar. A glass seemingly intended for Willy, thrown by a drunk guy, but it had hit her. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. She was sure her hand was covered in blood at this point; she didn’t even want to know what her face looked like. “Did I get busted open?” she asked, even though she was well aware of the answer. She needed someone else to confirm it so this all felt real and not like a nightmare.

“Yeah,” Jason said softly. “Listen, if that dipshit isn’t gonna call the cops or paramedics, I want to clean it before we go to the walk-in. Your face has a lot of blood on it.”

Aberdeen nodded her head slightly. There was nothing else she could do, really. It wasn’t like she was going to reject any medical attention, from Jason or otherwise. “Is it gonna hurt?” she asked.

“Of course it’ll hurt, but I don’t want any of the blood to crust and dry,” he said.

“Am I gonna need stitches? I’ve never gotten stitches before.”

“Move your hand a bit and let me see,” Jason said. She moved her hand the slightest bit, too scared to move it anymore out of fear that blood would gush out like some Halloween decoration, and Jason looked up close. “Yeah, probably,” he deadpanned. William winced at the thought.

“Oh, Jesus. Is it gonna scar?”

“No. Not deep enough to scar. At least not to me,” he said. She trusted him, if only because he was a father of four and had been around the block a few times. He cleaned her face as much as he could of the blood that had streamed down. She watched as he got some alcohol and put it onto a pad, prepped a sterile gauze, and whatever else he needed. Now, are you ready?” he asked.

“I guess so,” Aberdeen braced herself. She took her hand off the injury, relieved that no blood gushed onto Jason’s shirt. “On three, okay?” she asked. Jason nodded his head. She began to count. “One…two—”

She let out a guttural scream as Jason put the rubbing alcohol on her early so she wouldn’t wince away. It fucking stung. The sound that escaped her made Will’s heart drop into the pit of his stomach. He never wanted to hear it again. When he looked over, she was writhing on the toilet seat. Even Jason’s face was pained at her screams, but he was doing what he needed to do. After doing as much as he could, he took one last look at it before putting the sterile gauze on it, grabbing Aberdeen’s hand to hold it against the cut.

“You ready to go to emerge?” Jason asked.

Tears had streamed down her face at this point. She didn’t have a good tolerance for pain. She nodded her head. “Let’s go.”

***

It was just past two in the morning before an emergency room doctor saw Aberdeen. Jason had called Jen to let her know what happened and let her know that he was going to be extra late, and William…well, William was silent. He was still red with rage as they sat in the emergency room, with Jason and Aberdeen making conversation, but he was silent. Truthfully, all Aberdeen wanted to do was hug him, hold his hand, and nestle into him, but she couldn’t. It would have made things a hundred times better, but Jason being there meant that it was impossible. She noticed William’s silence from the moment they were in the washroom at the awful place and Jason had cleaned the wound. She was hoping that he wasn’t blaming himself.

“So, Miss Bloom, what happened here?” Dr. Behari asked as she sat on the gurney, Jason and William standing near her with their arms crossed.

“Some guy at a bar threw a glass and it hit me,” Aberdeen explained simply. “I think I’m going to need stitches.”

The doctor nodded, then looked towards Jason and William. “And you’re her bodyguards?” he joked.

Jason smiled, but William didn’t. “Friends,” Jason said. “I cleaned it up a bit with rubbing alcohol at the bar, doctor. I – It was the only thing I could think to do.”

The doctor nodded, stepping closer towards Aberdeen. “Let me take a look, Miss Bloom, and I can clean it and see if you need stitches.” Aberdeen took her hand and the gauze off the cut and the doctor put on his gloves. “Aallllllright…” he mumbled as he checked it, Aberdeen wincing in pain slightly as he pressed down on it. “You’ve got no residual glass in it, which is great. All we have to do is clean it up and give you some stitches.”

The thought of stitches made Aberdeen a bit woozy. She tried not to think about what they’d have to do. “Is it a deep cut? Like is it gonna scar?” she asked.

“Not a deep cut at all,” the doctor shook his head. “I’m only putting it one layer of stitches. You’ll probably have the slightest scar once it’s all healed but it’s easily covered with makeup, and due to placement, it won’t be too noticeable.” Suddenly, the curtain that blocked off the room opened, and some supplies and medical equipment were ushered in. Jason and William looked to see everything that Dr. Behari would need laid out on the tray. “Ah! Here we go. Have you ever received stitches before, Miss Bloom?”

“No sir.”

“Think of it as me putting this beautiful masterpiece of a face back together,” he joked, causing Aberdeen and Jason to laugh. William still wasn’t laughing, and Jason took notice.

“You’re great, Doctor Behari,” Aberdeen giggled. “I’m gonna get a scar like a real hockey player now.”

“Ahhhhh, so you guys are hockey players, huh?” he gestured towards Jason and William. “I’ve stitched up a bad hockey injury once or twice in my day.”

Dr. Behari continued with what he needed to do, cleaning up the wound and making sure everything was well and prepped for the stitches. The second he picked up the needle filled with lidocaine though, to numb the area so Aberdeen wouldn’t feel the stitches as much, William became more visibly upset. For the last two hours he looked like he was about to cry, and now he just looked extremely pained, distressed at the thought of what Aberdeen had to go through.

It took Jason intervening for William to stop thinking over and over about when the glass met Aberdeen’s head; the look in her eyes and the blood on her face as she tried to stop the bleeding with her hand. “Will, can you breathe for me?” he mumbled, Aberdeen and Dr. Behari too deep in a conversation to hear them.

William started shaking his head. “He needs to be arrested. He needs to be charged with assault. We need to find him,” his voice was still trembling.

“Will, we’re not gonna find him. He ran off,” Jason tried to reason with him. “There aren’t even any cameras we can check – the manager said. We just have to let it go.”

“No. That’s not good enough,” William was persistent. “We need to—”

“Listen to me,” Jason said in a low voice, grabbing William’s forearm and turning him away from Aberdeen and the doctor. They stood right in between the hallway and the curtain sectioning off the room. “I understand this is personal for you because it’s Aberdeen, but you need to be level-headed right now, because as much as the doctor is making her laugh, she’s gonna see the stitches and probably get scared. And she’s going to be looking at you to help calm her down and tell her it will be alright.”

William stopped breathing during the first part of Jason’s sentence. He furrowed his brows, trying to brush it off, and brush off what Jason was implying. “I don’t know what you mean about this being personal for me—”

“Will, come on,” Jason interrupted him. “I’m too old to be fucked with. We all see the way that you look at her and we know you have the biggest crush imaginable on her. It’s not like it’s a fucking secret.”

“H—How do I look at her?”

“She’s the only person you ever see, Will,” Jason deadpanned. “But…beyond that. You have to remember Brendan’s gonna be asking questions tomorrow at the office. I’ll handle a majority of that but he’s going to want the story from you too and you better be on your best behaviour or else he’ll figure out your little crush and Aberdeen will be fucked. Do you understand?”

William couldn’t look Jason in the eye anymore. He bit down on his bottom lip nervously, knowing that he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. “I think he already knows…” he mumbled.

“Excuse me?”

“I think…Brendan already knows about the crush. At the Christmas party out on the ice I guess he caught me looking and he told me she can’t do anything with me until she leaves, and more importantly, I can’t do anything with her.”

Jason looked like he’d seen a ghost. “And?”

“And what?”

“Are you doing anything with her?”

Here it was. William’s first opportunity to lie outright to a teammate, a friend, a colleague, a guy that he looked up to immensely. Aberdeen had had to do it with Siena, now he’d have to do it with Jason. His girlfriend was a mere fifteen feet away and he had to deny that anything was going on. “What?! Of course not!” he said angrily.

“William I swear to fucking God—"

“Nothing is happening,” he stressed. “Jesus, Jason. How awful do you think I am? I wouldn’t do something like that to her.”

“Don’t fuck with me Willy. She’s got too bright a future for you to—”

“I know that,” William stressed. “I. Know. That. That’s why nothing has happened. That’s why it’s stayed a crush.”

“You promise me right here, right now, in the middle of this hospital while she’s getting stitches, that there’s nothing going on between you two, or so help me God, Willy—”

“There’s nothing going on between us,” William said bluntly. He saw Jason’s face relax slightly, meaning that he was buying it. “I’ve got my crush and that’s it. But there’s nothing going on between us. Nothing.”

“Woohoo! Boys!” Dr. Behari called out, interrupting their conversation. “Miss Bloom wants to hold one of your big strong hands just in case she feels anything. Any takers?”

Jason raised his eyebrows at William and gave him a look. William gave Jason one last look before walked over, stood next to Aberdeen, and offered his hand. She grabbed it without hesitation.

Jason watched.

***

February 22nd, 2020

“What in God’s name happened to your eye?” Brendan demanded as he got his first look at Aberdeen Saturday morning. In the town car, Lou had already commented on it. Now Brendan got to see it, bright and early in the morning before heading towards the office.

“It’s a long story,” Aberdeen mumbled.

“Well we’ve got a long drive to the office.”

She sighed. She recounted the events of the previous night to Brendan, from Jason and William agreeing to stay back with her, to them going to dinner, to the rude men, to the bottle throwing. Brendan looked more and more horrified as time went on, and especially angry when she got to the part with the rude men. They were essentially targeting one of his players, one of his star players, with assault; instead, that assault ended up hurting his executive assistant. And when she mentioned the no cameras and the clueless bartender, he got really angry, because there was nothing he could do either.

“And so, here we are,” Aberdeen finished. “I’m three days out from my 22nd birthday and one week out from my party and I have a giant scar on my face.”

Brendan could tell by her tone that she wasn’t necessarily upset about it, per se, but that she was more so a bit self-conscious about how it looked. “It’s not that big,” he said, trying to not make it a big deal. “The stitches will be out soon anyway. You don’t want to see some of the scars I’ve gotten. I mean…” he trailed off, pointing to the one on his top lip and the one on his chin, “yours won’t look as bad as these. Won’t end up as bad as these either.”

“You don’t think so?”

Brendan shook his head. “No chance. It’s only three stitches. Did you tell your parents?”

“Yeah, we FaceTimed so I could show them. They don’t want me in bars past sundown now,” she giggled slightly. “I’m going to have to go to my doctor before we leave for Tampa Bay to see if they can get taken out though. By then it will have been four days. The emergency room doctor said it should be okay by then.”

“I’ll call Noah and have him take a look at it once we get to the arena,” he said, referring to Dr. Noah Forman, the team’s head physician. “I’ll call Jason and Will in, too. To let me know what happened.”

Aberdeen nodded her head. It was only logical to talk to them about it to. William had been the one targeted, after all. “Are you excited for tonight?” she asked, trying to change the subject.

Brendan shrugged. “Last time we faced Carolina it was an…interesting game,” he said. “How much more interesting can it get?”

***

Aberdeen was absolutely horrified. Just absolutely fucking horrified at what was transpiring in front of her very eyes. A complete and utter collapse. Something that couldn’t be real. Something she didn’t want to be real. Something that was affecting her more than she ever thought hockey would. If Aberdeen thought that Penguins game on Tuesday was bad, this was a hundred times worse. A thousand. A million. A billion times worse.

The Leafs were losing to the Hurricanes. 6-3. And who was in net for the Carolina Hurricanes? Their emergency backup goalie, who was, somehow, also the Toronto Marlies’ Zamboni driver. Yes. The Toronto Maple Leafs were losing to a Zamboni driver. Their own Zamboni driver.

She wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

Brendan had already left the box. He’d asked her not to follow him. That made her incredibly nervous, because usually when he was upset or disappointed about games, she was still following him like a little puppy. That wasn’t the case now; he clearly wanted to be alone and alone he would be, wherever he happened to be.

When the final buzzer rang, Aberdeen felt her heart rate go up even more, because it now meant that she did have to go find him. She didn’t want to be in the locker room right now. The team needed to be with their coach, and she didn’t exactly want to hear whatever was going to go down in there. She wanted to remain willfully ignorant. So instead, she began walking towards the offices, where a part of her knew Brendan would be.

She was quiet as she walked down the hallway and towards her desk. She saw Brendan’s door almost closed, and knew he was inside his office. She gathered her things, grabbed her jacket, and took a deep breath.

She knocked lightly on his office door. “Come in,” she heard him say absent-mindedly.

She pushed the door open slowly. When she revealed herself in the doorway, Brendan’s eyebrows rose slightly. He was surprised she’d come and find him. But he didn’t want her to know that. Most other personal assistants he’d had usually let him be when he did something like this. But Aberdeen was different. “Oh, there you are,” he said, his voice low as he cleared his throat. There were a few moments of silence as he thought of something to say. “We need to go over the, uh…the proofs for the St. Pats jerseys,” he held out his hand.

Aberdeen was nervous. He was a bit too calm for her liking, considering what had just happened. She knew he wouldn’t want to talk about it exactly, but still. “Okay. Um, yeah, sure. I have it right here,” she said as she began digging through her bag with all the files in it. There were so many to sort through, and she knew she was taking a while.

“By all means, move at a glacial pace. You know how that thrills me,” Brendan said.

She pulled the proofs out of her bag and handed them to him. He took them, a bit dramatically she thought, and opened them up. “Okay, so…they’re done. They can be sent,” he said dismissively, putting his signature at the bottom of every page of proofs.

Aberdeen was shocked, slightly. There was so much back and forth on them because they had to be perfect and now he’d just signed off on them? “They…they’re done? So I don’t need to bring them back to the artist and fetch them back tomorrow?” she began to pull out her iPad so she could change her schedule.

“Well, if you think the team is worthy of even wearing these jerseys and want to convince me to not just scrap the whole damn idea…then yes, fetch away. You’re very fetching, so go fetch,” he grumbled out with a resolute emotion of nothingness in his voice.

Aberdeen stopped her movements. Okay, so he was affected by what had just happened. And he was going to let it all out now, in front of her, with no-one else around. No Kyle. No Sheldon. No team. Nobody but her. As she continued to stare at him, he couldn’t look her in the eye; he was looking everywhere in his office but her, even though she stood right across his desk from him. “You’ll need to contact PR, um…Leslie, to see what she can do to minimize the press on all this,” he continued, pursing his lips together, looking out into a void. “Another humiliating loss splashed across the Toronto Sun. I can just imagine what they’re going to write about us. The Toronto Maple Leafs lose to a Zamboni driver who works for them. The most embarrassing loss yet, and it’s under my watch. Every newspaper in this city should cut me a check for all the papers I sell for them.” He shook his head, pausing for a few moments to collect himself, and finally looked at Aberdeen. “Anyway, I don’t…I don’t really care what anybody writes about me. But the team. I just…the team. It’s just another disappointment…another let down. Another bad game. Horrible game.”

Aberdeen didn’t know what to say. She knew this was Brendan’s version of spilling his guts out to her. This loss had taken its toll on him – was going to take its toll on everyone in the organization, and he was the guy heading the entire operation. It all fell on his shoulders. And Kyle’s. But he was the overseer of it all. He put the brunt of the blame on himself – not on the players or the general manager. “Anyway, the point is…the point is…” he cleared his throat. Aberdeen could see him visually recollect himself. “The point is, we really need to get these proofs sent first thing tomorrow morning, because I’d like to see the jerseys before they get sent to the players.”

It was weird to Aberdeen how he could just switch like that – from experiencing the lowest of the low to going back to normal again. She wondered if it was a hockey thing, because Willy did it too – he would be upset after losses, especially bad ones, but it would quickly become dirt off his shoulder. She held on to her emotions and feelings much longer than them. “I’m so sorry, Brendan,” she offered. She knew there was nothing else she could say to him. “If you want me to cancel your morning tomorrow, I can.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Why would we do that?” he asked.

Aberdeen offered a tight-lipped smile. “Is there anything else I can do?” she asked.

Brendan nodded quickly. “Your job.”

***

Aberdeen called Siena the moment she was out of the office and walking home. She’d been okayed to go home by Brendan. She’d texted Will, but he wasn’t answering, so God knows what was going on in the locker room right now. She didn’t want to stay at Scotiabank Arena for that very reason. She just knew it was too much for her to handle.

She knew it was too much because she was already crying. Silent tears, but tears nonetheless. She prayed to God that Siena picked up.

“Hey,” Aberdeen finally heard her voice. “What’s up?”

“Siena…” Aberdeen’s voice was shaky. “Siena did you watch the game?”

“No, why? What’s wrong?”

Aberdeen sniffled. “I never thought I’d be crying about sports but here I am crying about the Leafs!” she blubbered out.

“Why? What happened?”

“We just had the most God awful game,” Aberdeen huffed out. “We lost to our own Zamboni driver.”

There was a pause on Siena’s end. “Aberdeen, are you drunk?”

“NO!!!” she exclaimed. “Go check the highlights or whatever. Go turn on TSN. It was humiliating. We’re going to get absolutely roasted. It’s going to be so bad and—”

“Aberdeen—Aberdeen you need to calm down,” Siena urged on the other end of the phone. “It’s not your fault, Aberdeen. And it’s not your problem. Why are you so upset about it? It’s not like you’re a part of the team.”

Aberdeen felt a punch to her heart at Siena’s words. But she was. Everyone had told her that she was – Brendan, Kyle, the guys, everyone – and she had no reason to think otherwise. It was hammered into her since the beginning. For all intents and purposes, she was a member of the team, which is why it hurt her so badly. Siena didn’t understand that. Siena didn’t understand how all the traveling together made them closer; how all the guys looked out for her – not in a patronizing way, just…in their own way – like they were her older brothers, especially after what happened at Christmas; how the word family was tossed around so often that Aberdeen really felt that this was a family in its own way, with a bunch of moving parts, often dysfunctional, but a family nonetheless. Siena didn’t understand any of it. “Yes I am,” Aberdeen said meekly, offering nothing. She couldn’t put into words what she’d just thought, and even if she could, Siena, with all her smarts, wouldn’t understand them. “I am a part of the team.”

“Just sleep on it, alright? I’m sure everybody is going to forget about it by tomorrow morning,” Siena offered, showing truly just how much she didn’t understand. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

At that exact moment, a car pulled up on the curb alongside Aberdeen. When she looked over, she saw William in the driver’s seat. He was already looking at her. “Okay, bye,” she ended the call abruptly, stuffing her phone into her coat pocket before approaching and opening the door, slipping into the passenger’s seat easily.

When Aberdeen looked over at William, he immediately noticed her red eyes. His heart tightened in his chest. “Why are you crying, minskatt?” he asked.

“How could you not be?” she asked back.

He leaned over the centre console to kiss her. “Please stop, minskatt. I can’t stand to see you cry.”

“I don’t know what to feel – what to do – I don’t know what to say to you to make you feel better about this,” she lamented.

“Shhhh shhh shhh,” William kissed her again, bringing his of his hands up to cup her face. “You don’t need to say anything.”

“Don’t I?”

William shook his head slightly. “You’re here, aren’t you?” he asked, as if that was enough. As if that’s all he needed, when really, Aberdeen knew he’d need so much more. That she would need so much more. “D’you want to come back to my place?”

Aberdeen looked William in the eye. He wasn’t asking politely. He was begging. She nodded. “Okay.”

***

Aberdeen was getting scared at how good she was getting at lying. She’d made up a stupid story about needing to stay late at the arena again for the trade deadline so Kasha would go to bed and not wait up for her. Kasha bought it. Aberdeen didn’t even know if she was staying at William’s tonight or if she’d walk into her apartment at three o’clock in the morning again, for the second time in two days.

(As if William would bring her to his apartment and then tell her to leave in the middle of the night.)

He took her to a tall, glass condo building, only about a ten minute walk from hers but closer to the south core that made him possible to practically walk to all the games if he wanted to. He held her hand firmly in his once they got out of the car and walked through the parking garage, getting on the elevator. William pushed the button for one of the top floors. Of course he’d have a penthouse.

Aberdeen was still too caught up in her own emotions to realize how big this was – every other encounter had been at her place, and now she was finally seeing his space. When he opened the door, she was pleasantly surprised at what she was greeted with. She knew it was rented, and so she half expected it to be kind of dull with no personality, but that wasn’t the case. There were touches of William everywhere in the apartment – the slight, boyish messiness just adding to it. Expensive shoes scattered at the entryway. A few plants that weren’t dead, so she figured they were fake. A giant, comfy looking couch in the main area with a massive TV that was hooked up to every gaming console known to man. And pictures. Lots and lots and lots of pictures everywhere. All of his family.

She could tell that there was a spare bedroom on one side of the apartment, and she saw a door leading to the master. William put his keys in the bowl in the middle of the kitchen island, watching her as she looked around his apartment. “So what do you think?” he asked.

“Do you miss your family on nights like this? When it’s a really bad game and really embarrassing?” Aberdeen asked, staring at a picture he had of him and him sisters together, holding them all in a giant bear hug as their smiles stretched from ear to ear.

The question caught him completely off guard. “Of course I do. I miss them all the time,” he said.

“What do you do on nights like tonight?”

“I sit on my couch and watch TV until I’m not thinking about it anymore,” William admitted. “Lately I’ve really been meaning to do it with my girlfriend.”

Aberdeen couldn’t help but smile. Even after a night like tonight, he was still flirting with her. “Do you have a change of clothes?”

They went into his bedroom – bed messy, but huge; closet overflowing, but orderly; giant floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the other skyscrapers around them – and she changed into a pair of his boxers and a t-shirt that looked Supreme-branded but instead said ‘spaghetti’. It smelled like him, thoroughly, and the second she put it on she felt like she was being hugged, even though it was about six sizes too big. They changed together, and when they were done, they made their way back to the living room and William turned on the TV, pulling her towards the big couch. He made her sit down first before kneeling down between her legs, resting his head on her stomach just beneath her breasts before wrapping his arms around her.

It was calm. It was nice. It was mindless. William was mindless as he laid there, his arms wrapped around his girlfriend in his clothes, watching TV but not really watching TV. Aberdeen was mindless as she laid there, running her fingers through William’s hair soothingly, watching TV but not really watching TV. It was a while before Aberdeen decided to speak again. “You know, it’s not healthy to not talk about it,” she said.

She felt William sigh. “You know I’m not good with words, minskatt.”

“Oh, I think that’s a lie. You’re great with words,” she said.

“No I’m not.”

“William, every author in the English language wishes they came up with the words, ‘I think about you when I’m not even thinking’, including me,” she countered.

William couldn’t help but smile. “Those words are only for you,” he said.

“I know,” she said, “but can you please give me some other words so I know that you’re okay? Because I’m worried.”

The fact that he was making her worried made him compelled to talk. That was the last thing he wanted. “I just…I just know that we’re never going to hear the end of it. And I hate that. I hate that it’s gonna be the big joke now. Because hockey isn’t a joke to me. Neither is the Leafs.” He paused and Aberdeen was silent, and he knew that silence was urging him to continue. “It happened because…it happened because they rallied around their goalie. They protected him. They had his back. And we didn’t. We just…we didn’t. And I hate it when we do that. Because I have…I have every guy in that locker room’s back. I do. But sometimes it just…” he sighed, shaking his head. “Sometimes it just doesn’t work out how I want it to.”

Aberdeen had continued to run her fingers through his hair. She nodded at the end of his speech. “I’m not going to pretend that I know what it feels like, because I don’t,” she said. “I haven’t been a fan of hockey and I don’t understand it like you do but I know how much a game like this can affect the group, especially with the media in this city. But I got emotional about it because I know how much it affects you. Even if you won’t tell me about it.”

“I don’t mean to not tell you,” William said. “I just…” he paused again, thinking if he should even say anything. “It’s that besides my dad and brother, nobody’s ever really…you know, listened. So I just stopped talking.”

Aberdeen’s heart broke. At that point, she stopped running her fingers through his hair and forced him to sit up, even though her legs were still wrapped around him, so she could look him in the eye. She thought about Mike Babcock and what he’d done to Will. She thought about all the other hockey coaches he had and wondered if they were just as bad. “Willy…” she said softly, running her thumb along his jawline and lips. “Willy, I want you to talk to me more. About hockey. About your family. About your feelings. About everything. Please. Please.”

William nodded. He understood completely what she was asking him to do, and he was going to make a concerted effort to do so, because he loved her. He loved her so much and he didn’t want to see her worrying about him. “I will, minskatt. I will, for you,” he said, kissing her quickly. He shifted them so she was straddling his body. “I just have to get used to somebody listening.”

“Willy, I’m always going to listen to you. Don’t forget that, okay?” she asked, cradling his face in her hands.

He nodded, quickly kissing her again. The words were coming now, and he couldn’t stop them. Aberdeen had that power over him. “What happened the other night at the bar was my fault,” he said.

“What?” Aberdeen’s eyes bulged out of her head dramatically. “Willy, that was not your fault at all—”

“Yes it was—”

“No it wasn’t—”

“Yes, yes it was,” he said sternly. “And I couldn’t take it. I was so mad, minskatt. I was shaking. I wasn’t able to stop it or to protect you or—”

“Willy—Willy, stop. Willy, it wasn’t your fault at all,” she repeated. “Those stupid guys were drunk.”

“But they were aiming for me. They hated me. I wish that glass would’ve hit me instead,” he said, bringing his hand up to her scar and touching it lightly.

“Don’t you dare say something like that. It was a freak accident, Willy. There was nothing either of us could do,” she said, hoping he would soon realize it.

William paused for a moment. “You’d talk to me too, right? Like you want me to talk to you?” he asked. Aberdeen nodded her head confidently. “Were you scared that night?”

Aberdeen shrugged her shoulders. “Just a little bit. But you were there. And Jason. And when I realized that, I wasn’t so scared anymore. I’ve been scared before in my life much worse and with less blood.”

William nodded. “Are you listening?”

“Yes…”

“I love you.”

Aberdeen smiled. “I love you too.”

They began kissing. Lightly, at first, and then Aberdeen couldn’t help but stick her tongue down his throat, and William couldn’t help but squeeze at the flesh of her thighs. As they made out like teenagers on his couch, Aberdeen placed her hands over his and guided them to her ass.

William giggled slightly into the kiss. “Aberdeen…” he said in a playfully accusing tone.

“I only want to remember feeling your hands there instead,” she mumbled against his lips.

William froze. Suddenly and all at once, her words hit him like shards of glass, cutting him to his very core. “I’ve been scared before in my life much worse and with less blood.” Ethan. She still thought about what happened with Ethan – she still thought about it and it affected her and it made her scared, something she hadn’t admitted to before. William felt like killing Ethan all over again right then and there, with Aberdeen sitting on his lap. What affected her wasn’t a physical wound; what affected her was something much deeper.

“Listen to me,” he said, his hand cradling her chin, thumb gliding over her lips softly as she’d done to him earlier. “Nobody is going to do that to you again, okay? Not while I’m here.”

Aberdeen nodded her head. She believed him completely.

“I mean it, Aberdeen,” he pressed.

“I know.”

“If I ever saw him on the street, I’d fucking kill him for what he did to you. For how he made you feel. And I want you to know that, like…you’re not what happened to you. You’re so much more. He was a pig who couldn’t see that but I can,” William said.

Aberdeen almost burst out into tears at his words. You’re not what happened to you. You’re so much more. She could have cried right then and there. But instead, she nodded her head before kissing William again, even more eager this time, wanting to show him just how much she appreciated him, just how much she believed him, just how much she loved him.

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sinsbymanka · 3 years

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Writing Tag Game

Okay listen I’m on vacation XD hence why I’m ignoring everyone’s tags/taking forever to respond. But I’ve been tagged in this A LOT and I really liked it/wanted to do it so thank you to everyone who tagged me (oh my god I’m so sorry if I missed one of you there were SO MANY): @noire-pandora, @in-arlathan, @thevikingwoman, @morganlefaye79, @elveny, @kunstpause, @pikapeppa

I’m not tagging anyone because I’m tagging everyone since I’m too lazy to find my tag list (I’m on VACATION). If you’ve not gotten tagged and wanted to do this, say I tagged you.

How many works do you have on Ao3?

147 - I have 145 linked to my profile and two in the anonymous collection.

What's your total Ao3 wordcount?

1,468,248. Almost 1.5 million!!

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Of Miracles and Heroes (FenHawke, Cadash/Varric, Varania/Blackwall): 269

Interspecies Relationships Have Their Ups and Downs (Shakarian): 145

Don’t Make it Hawkeward (Varric/Hawke): 135

The Ambassador’s Vices (Josephine/Adaar): 111

The Girl with the Arrow Tattoo (Cadash/Varric): 101

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do (but - to be honest - it takes me FOREVER). I love comments. It’s so much easier to not leave comments than leave comments, so every time someone leaves one I’m blown away. I feel like - for leaving me a comment - you’re definitely owed an answer! I do apologize that it takes me awhile though - I am very bad at answering because they mean a lot to me and I get easily overwhelmed by the AO3 inbox I don’t know why. Blame anxiety.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

I’ll be honest, I don’t like angsty endings so I don’t have many of them. By far the angstiest ending I have is Flowers, Lies, and Forgiveness. This is a Bianca Davri/Varric Tethras fic set during the final act of DA2. I wrote it from Bianca’s POV - showing Varric unraveling under the pressure of Kirkwall and Bianca’s complicated feelings about infidelity to her husband who clearly cares about her as well. I wrote it for @hollyand-writes who always lets me lean into the tragic “fucked upness” of the pairing when I’m feeling like making Varric suffer.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending

I prefer happy endings so almost EVERYTHING has a happy ending. My favorite endings, so far, are for Cheating the Dread Wolf, which is my Varric/Cadash/Solas polycule (or as I like to refer to it - Solas has a dwarf kink) and The Viscount’s Mistress which is my Hurt/Comfort Cadash/Varric Trespasser bullshit.

Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you've written?

I have not written crossovers - but I am very into AUs in another setting that belongs to a different fictional universe. Most recently I got back into my Downton Abbey bullshit and wrote Flappers for Fen’harel which is basically a Downton Abbey AU Solas/Cadash and I’m not taking comments about the outrageousness of it.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yep. Honestly though? Over the two years I’ve been active in Fandom, the shitty comments can be counted on one hand and usually came from the same people over and over again, who are easily blocked, and should stop seeking out clearly labeled content they don’t like. Me and my work are not for everyone - that’s REALLY okay. I’ve blocked people for no other reason than making things I don’t like - that doesn’t mean they’re bad people.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

GOD DO I.

I am extremely sex and kink positive. Because of this - a lot of my work involves sex in some way or another. I think sex is a beautiful part of many (although not all) relationships, and that it’s frequently glossed over in mainstream media (particularly queer, kinky, and polyam sex).

This ranges from sort of vanilla slow burns (My Cole/Bea fic, Compassion for an Assassin, has smut which hasn’t been posted yet. It’s Cole’s first time and is fairly vanilla and romantic, and occurs approximately 40k into the fic) to some pretty dubious consent near 24/7 dom/sub dynamics with BDSM kinks (I’ve written JUST as much of the Sereda/Gorim problematic smut as @jarakrisafis has in our series Forced Moves).

There’s very few kinks I’m not willing to touch at least to try out - even if I end up not liking them. And the ones that aren’t for me are 100% allowed to exist and I will fight for them to the bloody end. My only recommendation is CLEARLY labeling your shit and not being afraid to add a tag if someone asks you to.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I’m aware of? I’ve seen ideas I’ve tried on picked up by other people - but I don’t consider that stealing and it’s hard to trace “who has been inspired by who” because we ALL have been inspired by thousands of other people and frankly more stuff for me when I pull you over to my weird AUs and rarepairs.

I also think that’s a huge part of not getting stolen - I’ve got so much weird niche shit that only a couple people read that stealing from me is going to most likely be caught IMMEDIATELY the audience is so small.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I don’t believe so!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! I’ve got some co-written secret smut with @blarfkey which almost nobody has seen, I’ve borrowed @tightassets Hawke, Lavellan, and Shepard for fics that she has illustrated, borrowed @tuffypelly‘s Adaars for some great fics, and my most ambitious project - the Forced Moves series with @jarakrisafis. It started out as us just exchanging gifts back and forth but we’ve wrangled it into Gambits and Countergambits, an Aeducan-origin prequel, that I’m VERY proud of.

I love co-writing very much, but it’s very important to find the right partner and for it to be someone you trust completely.

What's your all time favourite ship?

This is a stupidly hard question because I am, at heart, a multi-shipper.

I love Varric/Hawke and Varric/Cadash. I’m also a sucker for Solas/Cadash. My fandom pool noodle is Varric/Cadash/Solas which I adore, and I’m very fond of Cole/Cadash.

Most recently I’ve been DEEP in Aeducan/Gorim Saelac, Bhelen/Rica/Vartag, and Aeducan/Brosca feels. Dwarf origins are the best origins in my opinion and those characters are PERFECT.

What's a WIP you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I fully plan on finishing everything. My writing style changed a lot, for the better, in a short period of time. I need to integrate my old style/new style and had to get a pep talk about how to do that. Now I’m ready to try as soon as I finish Compassion for an Assassin.

What are your writing strengths?

I write very sexy, hot smut. I also really like playing with character voice and making sure I get them “right” so I do a lot of experimenting before publishing a new character for the first time.

I struggle to write action scenes - it’s like pulling fucking teeth - but people really LOVE my action scenes and they read well. So that’s something I’m proud of even if it feels like doing fucking pull ups.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I never learned anything. My experiences with English and writing teachers were overwhelmingly negative. I’m unsure if I’m just not cut out for classes or if they were that bad, but I always left feeling like there was one “right” way to do it, and everything I liked was “bad”, so what was the point of “learning” anything?

It turns out there’s this very pompous, pretentious thought process in writing where people “assume” things must be done, but GOOD writing teachers teach you the rules and then how to break them. I either never had a good writing teacher or got too intimidated to give them a chance before bouncing.

So I’m exceedingly self-taught. I lack the vocabulary to discuss plot structure, characterization, grammar, etc. I instinctively know most of these things based on trial and error and reading, but I didn’t learn them and I miss a lot of nuance in the rules, but until recently I was still too intimidated and unsure of myself to admit that or take it seriously.

So - my defense mechanism is NOT taking ANYTHING seriously. If my writing is a joke to me, it’s gotta be a joke to everyone else, but that’s been a shield to hide behind instead of being thoughtful about things. I’m here to have fun, yes, but there’s nothing wrong with learning a technique to the art.

I’ve learned - mostly thanks to @blarfkey who is an amazing person and a wonderful teacher - that I am a good writer based on my self-teaching. And being intimidated of people who throw around impressive sounding words is a weakness that I am working on.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Use sparingly and with good reason. It should be short and explained later or clear from context.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter on message boards back in the fucking day. Thankfully none of it exists anywhere anymore.

What's your favourite fic you've written?

This is such a sappy answer and I’m so sorry. My favorite things have been written for and because of people I love and care about. When I read them, I’m not just reading the story, but remembering the relationships I’ve made and how important they are.

So, my top three fics for THAT reason:

1. Cheating the Dread Wolf - written for @blarfkey who inspired the idea and ruthlessly encouraged me to make it happen. This fic was so healing for me because it heavily features Fatherhood within it - and I lost my father in June 2020. I don’t know if I’d have been able to do it without her and it was so important for me to do.

2. Gambits and Countergambits - written with @jarakrisafis and the culmination of a years worth of gifting shit back and forth and crafting a shared universe. The worldbuilding, smut, relationships, EVERYTHING about this fic is so deeply and passionately cared about by both of us and to our knowledge it is completely, totally unique.

3. Relentless, Ridiculous, and Rakish - one of my only primarily gen-fics focusing on a forming brother/sister relationship between Maria Cadash and @tuffypelly‘s Otsar Adaar. I very much enjoyed writing it for her <3

And then my overall favorite fic:

The Viscount’s Mistress: I have a lot of opinions about how fanfiction treats the anchor’s meltdown and the aftermath. It’s one of the things in DAI that resonated with me SO much as someone who lives with chronic pain and a disability. I loved the fact my OC was in the same shoes and STILL saving the world. This is very much a fic that explores all the dark sides of trauma, pain, and the mental health effects of it. But it ends on a happy and hopeful note.

#manka writes #writer tag game thing

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Hue and Cry XIV

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), violence, thoughts of self-harm and suicide, depression, some triggers might not be fully tagged.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: It’s the final day of the tournament and all are holding their breath to see who prevails.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The arena was buoyant on the final day of the tournament. The most awaited event, the joust, was finally come. As Lord Barnes would once more be among the competitors, you were left on your own in the box with the rest of the ladies and their queen. Most of the noblemen were listed for the sport, Barnes, Rogers, Stark, and even the king.

You didn’t watch as the names were announced and the banners presented before the games commenced. Your attention wasn’t even drawn as the first clashed with their blunted staffs and galloping horses. It was much more perilous than the other contests.

You stayed away from the other women. You were not interested in humouring the queen’s false kindness nor were you interested in their chatter of things that hardly mattered to you. Sewing, birthing, loving; you didn’t care for any of it. You didn’t care for them or the men on the field. You cared for nothing in this bleak world.

As Barnes took to the saddle for his first opponent, you glanced down lazily but found your eyes drawn to clouds instead. It was bitterly cold under the grey sky, streaked with umbrous and ominous wisps. It would likely snow soon as if to mark the grand finale.

You tucked your hands into your sleeves and hugged yourself alone on the bench. You were drawn from your glowering by the rustle of skirts. The queen sat beside you and let out an airy sigh.

“Thankfully, my brother has kept clear of conflict,” she said, “in fact, he’s hardly spared another snarl for the visiting Baron.”

“Your majesty,” you muttered as the flag was waved and the horses barrelled at each other and the men pointed their long poles.

“Unless you count this,” she mused as his pole broke off the armour of the other men and sent his adversary sprawling and the other horse whinnying in a panic. You lowered your eyes meekly. “He will be eager to be away and I do hope you aid him in a speedy departure. The baron is expected to remain in the capital for the winter.”

“Yes, he is want to be gone back to the castle,” you assured her.

“It would be tragic if you were to be snowed in here. Very inconvenient and costly at that.”

“Certainly, your majesty,” you said flatly.

“You understand the urgency that will follow in the coming days,” she intoned.

“I understand but you do seem to misunderstand your brother. To think that I have any hold over him is farcical. He does as he pleases. He is a duke, I am a displaced chambermaid. That is all it is… your majesty.”

“You do not speak as a chambermaid,” she replied sharply, “my brother favours you but he still cannot overrule me, understood?”

“Your majesty, I understand my place completely,” you ceded, “would I be remiss to excuse myself?”

“For what means?”

“To find a commode,” you answered, “these game do carry on and I am distracted by my humanly needs.”

“Go off then,” she stood, “you are rather dour today. You would cast a mood over us all if you languish thus.”

“Your majesty,” you rose and made your way to the doors as she rejoined her ladies and gave a forced giggle as they welcomed her. You wondered how the nobles were trained so well in lies. Was it in their books or did their tutors include it in their curricula?

You descended the stairs without aim. You had no need of the commode, only an excuse. You stepped out into the lower stands and peered out at the field. In that moment, you could be gone. You could disappear and be away from all this misery.

You scoffed at yourself and leaned against the wooden planks. He’d find you again. You couldn’t make it far enough before he sniffed you out again. You weren’t stupid enough to try it twice, even at such an opportune moment. You would only earn yourself further punishment.

“Is something amusing, my lady?” you stood straight and looked startled to the man who emerged from the shadows of the stairway. Lord Zemo smirked and came to stand arm to arm with you as he looked out across the stadium.

“My lord, I was only watching the field,” you lied, “thinking.”

“Ah, yes, these games, how violent,” he remarked, “where I am from, we have festivals before tournaments. Singing, dancing, poetry, theatre… I suppose that is just as silly as all this.”

“It is… a privilege to be able to afford silliness,” you said, “to not be the one cleaning up after all of it and yet… so very pointless.”

He nodded and grumbled as he considered your words, “very true. Wise, even. I think that after one has seen how grave things can be, these affairs become less and less entertaining. It is almost sickening to think of them, let alone attend them. Why should men play at war as if it were fun?”

You peeked over at him. He was here because he once fought those men down on the field with real steel and armour. It was rather grim to think of. “I did not think of it like that but I suppose you are right. I know little of war, however, my lord.”

“You know of pain, though,” he said, “it is painted on you as much as those battle scars carried by veterans like your beloved Barnes.”

You were silent. You stared up at the sky again, the endless grey, the half-finished canvas.

“Beloved? Perhaps that is the wrong word for him. I see little affection there. I sense it is not an arrangement you asked for.”

“Does it matter if it is?” you shook your head, “My lord, you waste your breath on little more than a servant. I suffer Lord Barnes the same as any, I am no help to you.”

“Help? I have no desire to change my standing with Barnes, I am not so foolish as that,” he turned to face you, “Have none ever taken interest in you as your own being?”

“I am a servant. I am not my own being,” you murmured, “my lord, if you would, I should return to my party.”

“As you will,” he said dolefully, “it was a pleasure to meet again.”

“Was it?” you asked as you turned to go.

“It is always a relief to speak of anything but politics or gold,” he said, “and yes, you served me well in this conversation. As you said, that is all you are worth.”

You left him but didn’t ascend back to the box. You continued down the steps until you reached the final landing. You looked up and sat on the lowest stair. A moment of peace before you had to go back. To not think for a single second.

🏰

You listened to the raucous voices of the audience. You didn’t want to move from that spot. You didn’t want to go back to it all. You just wanted to stay on that step forever. But you knew you had to go. You knew you had to get up.

You lifted yourself wearily but your foot only hovered above the bottom stair. You heard more voices, and an angry one as the crowd bang and buzzed. You followed the lower sounds, the singular conversations yelled through the din. You ventured down the tunnel that led beneath the stands.

Horse kicked and snorted as you came into the area meant for competitors. Men sat and stood with blood on brow and lip. Those who’d already lost, many as the final face-off was about to commence. You looked around but did not see Lord Barnes. Perhaps he was on the other side or even looking for you.

You walked the perimeter of the large space and a familiar face caught your eye. Peter rubbed his shoulder as he muttered, his aunt and uncle sat with him as the former checked the cut on his chin. You felt the same stabbing in your chest as the night before. Before you could think, you were marching towards him.

You skidded to a halt before him and gulped. You didn’t know what to say, you only knew how you felt. He looked over at you as May and Benjamin followed his gaze. You wavered and blinked away the tears that threatened.

“I did want to be friends but I stayed away to protect you, Peter,” you said, “did you have to be so cruel?”

“What? I--” he stood and winced as he jarred his shoulder, “I didn’t-- I wasn’t--”

“I know what I am and I know we cannot be friends but could it have hurt to let me think ‘what if’?” You quivered.

“No, my lady, I--”

“You know I’m not a lady. No need to treat me like one now. I heard you last night. I didn’t come to change your mind, I’m not so simple as that. I only came-- well, I don’t know why, but perhaps I only wanted to say to one person how they hurt me. Perhaps I wanted to just once be able to speak my part and that I can do because I know I will never see you again.”

You brushed past him and he reached for your arm as he stammered, “please, don’t, I was l--”

“Don’t,” you shrugged him off and stomped on as the figures around you blurred and the anger and despair swelled in your head.

You followed the noise of the crowd. They were hungry for blood. If that was what they wanted, they would have it.

You pushed out from behind the curtain and the wood and dirt vibrated from the cacophony. You saw Lord Barnes in his saddle as he was handed his pole and his competitor, Lord Rogers, as he took his own. Their attendants checked the horse and took them to their marks.

You quaked as the ocean of voice rolled over you and you crept out along the wall. All were entranced by the two dukes as they readied for their signal. Barnes silver armour was dented and dinged from his former bouts and Rogers golden armour was just as scuffed. The two men steadied their steeds and the crowd fell into a hush of anticipation.

The red cloth dropped and the riders galloped at each other across the field. The hooves dusted up the cold dirt, through blood stains left throughout the day, and the crash that came sent up another cheer through the crowd.

Wooden slivers exploded around Barnes and Rogers was pushed back against his horse as his own shield was deflected. Both men kept astride and righted themselves as they rode back to their posts and again, their liveried attendants approached to calm their horses and fix their dressings.

They would go again and again, until one of them was tossed from their saddle or worse. You began to breathe heavily as you paced along the wall and the lords were handed new shields. You readied and watched the man in gray lift the rag. You began to run before it was even visible to the crowd.

You heard the horses barreling at each other as you did the same. You closed your eyes as you got closer to the lanes and you tossed back your arms as you threw yourself forward. A heavy and hard force hit you and several crushing blows landed across your body as the horse trampled over you and overturned.

You croaked as you were left in the dirt. The eerie silence that followed was void of the bouncing excitement. It was broken only by the screaming of the injured horse and the confused voices of those on the field. You heard that familiar deep groan, of pain, not delight this time.

You rasped and gasped as your chest ached and your bones throbbed. Your limbs were filled with sand and your head pounding. There were shadows all around you as you wheezed and you smiled as you tasted blood on your tongue. You began to laugh as your eyelids drooped and blacked out the arena.

“Don’t move her!” A voice called as someone touched your arm. It was broken, you were sure of it. It didn’t matter, they couldn’t fix you. Not your arm, none of it.

You laughed louder and louder as you heard more footsteps. It was all so funny. You were free! Your eyes rolled back and your mind flickered. Just before the flame gave its last lick, you heard his voice. The gravity of it gave you peace.

“Is she alive? Is she alive!? Help her! Help her!”

Lord Barnes could demand as he did for all he had but in this, he could not be mollified.

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