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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

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The Perfect Fit | Bucky Barnes x reader (part 2)

(part 1)

summary: after getting fitted by you, bucky’s going to try on the custom-made suits he’s bought. unless he makes his move now, he may not get to see you again, and he can’t let that happen.

word count: 6.5k

warnings: smut!!, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), a little d/s energy, mirror kink, stomach bulge kink, slight pain kink?, creampie kink, pussy spanking, light bondage, bucky being jealous

Bucky had a bone to pick with Tony, which was usually true but this wasn’t work-related for once. It wasn’t hard to find him in the same place he’d seen him last— eating his lunch in the kitchen, with Sam nearby chowing down on lo mein with a spring roll.

“Hey lefty, what’s cracking?” Tony greeted, mouth full but talking loudly anyways.

"I went down to that tailor you recommended—" Bucky began, but Tony was quick to interrupt.

"You went there? Dude, it's a really nice place, you can just call and she'll come to you instead, way more convenient."

"So now you say 'she'?"

Realization dawned on Tony’s expression. "Ahh, I get it. You're not used to a female tailor. Adds a little spice to getting fitted, huh?" he grinned, elbowing Bucky playfully.

Bucky’s throat felt a little dry when he heard that. "Don't tell me that's why you use her…"

"Hey now, I'm not a creep, I use her cause she's the best, and those house calls are great for discretion— you know, being a celebrity and all. The eye candy part is just gravy."

"Gravy candy sounds disgusting," Sam chimed in, missing the point entirely.

"Yeah, well, she mentioned some stuff that sure made you sound like a creep."

"Okay, well, you can't blame me for getting caught staring when I'm surrounded by fucking mirrors. Makes it hard to be stealthy."

"You could try not staring,” Bucky suggested flatly.

"Is that what you did?"

Tony smirked when Bucky failed to reply immediately. "Okay, so it's easier said than done,” Bucky admitted with a frown, “but still, I hope these house calls were strictly professional."

“What’s it to you, man? I think somebody’s jealous,” Tony purred.

“What? No, it’s not that,” Bucky denied.

“You love her,” Tony sing-songed, completely ignoring Bucky. “You looooooove her!”

"You are so immature," Bucky rolled his eyes, even though his heart was racing and he was pretty sure he was blushing.

"No, it's good for you! She's a catch, you're all brooding and stuff— maybe she can melt the Winter Soldier's frozen heart, hm?"

Sam laughed heartily. "Stark, you read too many comic books."

"You're saying you don't wanna see Icy Hot here shoot his shot with my tailor?" Tony asked, turning his attention towards Sam.

Sam pondered that, much to Bucky's dismay. "Depends. How hot is she?"

"Mega," Tony smirked confidently. "Legs for miles, and she wears these skirts that make her ass look—"

"I think I've heard enough," Bucky groaned. "I'm leaving. And don't ask when I'm going to see her again," he instructed, interrupting Tony just as he'd opened his mouth to speak, "because I won’t tell you.”

As Bucky left, he could hear Tony calling out into the hall: “But I’d be such a great wingman!”

Truth be told, Bucky had put off mastering the use of his smartphone. It wasn’t just that new technology made him feel old, but that he knew nobody would be calling or messaging him anyways; if the phone didn’t work, he would spare himself the embarrassment of waiting up for nothing.

But once he knew you were going to call? Suddenly, he was motivated to figure the sucker out.

A few hours later and now all he had to do was stare at it to make sure he wouldn’t miss you. Luckily, you didn’t make him wait too long. He recognized the number and decided to let it ring a few times before picking up, so it would seem like he had other things to do besides talk to you.

“Hello?” Bucky asked when he answered, so it would seem like he had other people calling him besides you.

You introduced yourself so formally that he was a little afraid that all that fun energy between you two would be gone. Thankfully, once he asked what you were calling about, you were back to being cheery and casual again.

“I was just calling to schedule when I could come by with your new suits!” you explained, sounding chipper.

His fingertips were a little tingly just from hearing you talk, nervousness making him antsy (in a weirdly good way). “I know you said it’s a one-person operation,” he responded smarmily, “but I figured you would outsource delivery.”

You scoffed, though it sounded more amused than irritated. “It’s not just delivery, I have to check the fit and make sure everything’s exactly to your liking.”

“Oh, well, I’m free all day tomorrow— and I think you already know my address.” Was it too forward? Too obvious? And why did Bucky spend half the time when he was talking to you second-guessing himself?

“Yes, Stark Tower is a relatively common destination for me. If he doesn’t mind us using it, Tony has a dressing room with plenty of mirrors so you can get a good look. But, I’d be happy to just go up to your quarters if that’s easier.”

He was not at all ready for you to see his room. No way he could clean it enough in the next twelve hours; and even then, lots of the team had made fun of how empty and plain it was, so he knew it would just make you think he was boring.

“I’m sure Tony won’t mind you using his dressing room, but he might mind me using it,” Bucky chuckled.

“Well, if he makes a fuss I’ll be sure to set him straight,” you decided confidently. Somehow, imagining you cursing out Tony was almost hotter than imagining you doing anything else. “Be sure to bring down your dress shoes so you get the full look and everything.”

“Uhhh…” he trailed off as he scratched the back of his head, trying to remember if he owned anything other than combat boots. “Not sure I still have those, to be honest.”

"Okay, you'll need shoes too,” you noted aloud, your voice a little distant; he figured you were writing things down, which was why you sounded distracted. “What size are you?"

"Thirteen."

"I'll bring a selection tomorrow,” you announced firmly. “And socks, of course. And some watches, maybe? And pocket squares."

"Is that it?" he asked sarcastically.

“Oh right, I’m bringing the ties you picked out, too. I’ll throw in some alternates in case your original choices don’t match the way you were hoping.”

“You really are full-service,” he chuckled.

“I get that a lot,” you replied, a hint of coyness to your tone.

There it was again; that jealousy. He hated it because he knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t stop it either. As much as his mind was completely aware that you were an independent, modern woman capable of handling herself, his heart was equally determined to protect you, and spoil you, and do whatever was necessary to make sure you were safe.

Worse, his gut was less innocent. Mine, it demanded, all mine. Nobody else’s.

He pushed it down and just tried to get through the rest of the call without saying something he’d regret. You confirmed the date and time with him, and he tried not to be too aggressive when he said he was looking forward to it.

He hung up his phone and sighed, staring off into space. Now all that was left to do was wait, and be overwhelmed with anxiety. Thankfully, he was good at the second thing.

"So, what do you think?"

I think you look so damn good from every angle. I think I might spend all my money on suits just to be sure I can see you again. I think you need somebody to love you the way you deserve. I think you’d look like an angel waking up in my bed.

You waved your hand in front of his face for a moment, calling his attention back to reality. “Helloooo?”

Drawn out of his trance, Bucky finally looked in the menagerie of mirrors surrounding him and admired his reflection, amazed by the perfect fit of his first suit. The difference in quality between this and something off the rack was beyond apparent. Most of all, your talent was undeniable. "I think it's beautiful."

You smiled proudly. "Of course it is, but do you like how you look in it?"

"Honestly? I feel a bit… out of place. I'm obviously not classy enough for a suit like this."

"Oh, nonsense," you dismissed.

He frowned, convinced this was all flattery. "No, seriously, this is… maybe I should just wear tactical gear to every event."

"Well, you'd still look good, but you're not always a soldier. Sometimes you're only a man. And every man should own a fine suit."

It was much too profound of a thing to say while you casually straightened his jacket, only to pop out from behind his reflection to smile at him in the mirror.

“Let’s get the next one on you,” you decided, helping him lose the jacket but having him move into a private dressing room to switch trousers and shirts. “I put a turtleneck in there instead of just a regular button-up,” you explained through the door as he changed, “in case you wanted to see it that way.”

Once he’d put it on, he stepped back out and you were looking at him so proudly— well, you were looking at your handiwork with pride, really, but he could pretend it was for him and hope actually impress you that much one day.

“I went with a shawl lapel on this one, as opposed to the last one which was notched,” you explained as you traced the line with your finger. “Spoiler: the next one has a peak lapel. But enough about that one: what do you think of this one?”

“This looks like something my friend Sam would wear,” Bucky decided as he looked at himself in the cranberry suit and black turtleneck. The shoes you’d had him try on with this were intricate as well, with subtle stitching in the leather and a shine so immaculate he could almost see a reflection in them.

“Well, is your friend Sam stylish?” you asked.

“He would certainly say so,” he smirked.

“I’m inclined to agree, because you—” you gave him a thorough glance up and down, so thorough in fact that he felt a bit exposed under your gaze, “—look marvelous.”

“Not pretentious?”

“No, no, it works on you,” you assured, “you’ve got the looks for it.”

“And what looks are those?”

“Um… good? Good looks?”

He definitely remembered a time when that seemed like the obvious answer, because he had relied on being good-looking for a lot of things in life, but that felt very far away now. Maybe it was just that people who didn’t know what he’d done could still think he was good looking, but everyone else saw the evil within beginning to leak out the way that he did.

But you knew what he’d done, didn’t you? You had to. You knew Tony, you were here at the Tower… unless you were intentionally not up-to-date on current events, you must have heard of the Winter Soldier.

“Don’t act so surprised,” you huffed, “as if it’s a big secret or something. You’re obviously very attractive.”

Bucky cleared his throat nervously. “Uh, thanks.” He wanted to return the compliment, but thought it might be inappropriate or rude somehow. You broke the silence quickly as you held up two pocket squares in front of him.

“Which of these do you prefer?” you prompted. He selected the solid gold one, making you smile. “I knew you’d pick that one.”

“How?”

“I dunno, just fits you,” you shrugged as you folded it and gently placed it in his pocket. Even through so many layers, your touch on his chest made his heart flutter. Your fingers brushing over his as you slipped a watch onto his wrist was enough to cause palpitations.

He looked better in this ensemble than he expected. This version of himself looked much more likely to be invited to parties than any other version. If only he actually wanted to go to parties.

You put him in the pinstripe suit last, after putting a few pins in the cranberry suit to indicate minor changes you would make later, and stepped back to ponder your work.

"Hm, unbutton those top two buttons for me?" you requested with a raised eyebrow.

I will if you do, he thought to himself, but silently unbuttoned his own shirt anyway.

"I mean, it definitely works like this, but I wanna see you in a tie. And I've got juuuuust the one," you smiled. Soon you were approaching him with a red paisley tie, and helping him button up his shirt and tying the tie for him— you explained something about how it was a unique knot he likely couldn't do himself, but he was too lost in having you so close to notice. It would be so easy to just reach up and grab your waist, pull you into a kiss, finally tell you how bad he wants you.

Well, it would be physically easy, but it would be very scary. Just imagining it had his heart racing.

“I heard from Tony this morning,” you informed him suddenly, slipping the tie around his neck and popping his collar up for him.

“Really? Is he in need of a wardrobe update?”

“Yes, but he hasn’t realized that yet so that wasn’t what he called about.”

He laughed a little at the jab, though it also made him a little worried what secret opinions you held about his own style (or lack thereof).

“We talked about you, actually,” you added.

“O-oh,” Bucky stammered, “uh, he’s not exactly my biggest fan. So whatever he said probably isn’t true.”

“He said that you have a crush on me,” you replied nonchalantly, not even looking up from your work on his tie.

Bucky gulped, and he knew you saw the bob of his Adam’s apple because you were staring right at his neck.

“Like I said, Tony isn’t a very reliable source,” Bucky replied, but his voice cracked in the middle and he cringed internally.

“I’ll write it off as another one of Tony’s off-color jokes then,” you dismissed, perfecting the knot of his tie and stepping back to observe him. He always felt nervous when you looked at him like that, like he couldn’t hide anything from you.

“What… what did you say, when he told you that?” Bucky asked nervously.

“I asked him what he was smoking and if I could have some,” you laughed. “I thought it was totally impossible— and don’t worry, I didn’t tell him that you got hard when I did your inseam.”

Bucky’s throat became dry at the same moment that his palms got clammy.

“I— um, I was just—”

“Oh, it’s fine,” you dismissed quickly, still talking about this all so casually which only made him even more confused, “you’re not the first, it happens.”

“I’m not the first?!”

“Yeah, if anything you were one of the few who didn’t say something creepy about it, which is always appreciated. It’s just a bodily reaction, you can’t control it.”

“Did Tony ever say something creepy?” Bucky pressed, his hands involuntarily tightening into fists— another bodily reaction he couldn’t control.

“You know, Tony said you were really worried that he had been inappropriate with me, or even that he and I had a fling or something,” you added as you stepped back, giving him a quizzical look, “and now it’s sort of sounding like he was right.”

“No, no, it’s not that, I just—”

“Was he right about anything else?” you pressed, raising an eyebrow.

“I was being nosy, I’m sorry,” he sighed, “it’s just that… and I know it’s none of my business, but the idea of him and you… it isn’t a pleasant mental image.”

You laughed a little, in a way that made him feel kind of small. “Why not? You know how he is. Definitely has a wandering eye… and occasionally a wandering hand.”

Bucky winced. “I swear, if he ever put his hands on you, I’ll go find him right now and beat him senseless.”

“What if I wanted him to?”

He nearly saw red, but he knew he had no right to be angry. You were a grown adult and he had no ownership over you… he just sort of wished that he did.

“So it’s true then? You and him…?”

“No, Bucky,” you laughed, “it’s not. Nothing’s ever happened between us. I generally don’t get involved with clients like that.”

“Generally? Is there an exception?”

You chewed your lip, seemingly a little thrown off by his question. “Uh, I mean, no— I’ve never been involved with a client, no, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Why would you say ‘generally’ then?”

“Uh, I guess I just… I wouldn’t want to rule anything out, that’s all. Never say never.”

And for a moment he almost wondered if you were flirting with him. Certainly not, with him having come across as both a jealous hot-head and a bumbling dweeb who pops a boner faster than a randy teenager, but just for a second the way you looked at him was… questionable.

“I mean, who knows,” you continued, “what if, hypothetically, some gorgeous guy walked into my store one night— a sensitive guy, who made me laugh and put up with me rambling about ties for the better part of an hour— and I was supposed to dress him up when all I wanted to do was undress him?”

Your finger started to trail down his chest lightly, tickling his skin through the dress shirt.

“I wouldn’t want to think he was off-limits just because he’s a customer… right?” you asked quietly, looking up at him and biting your lip.

He was afraid to make the wrong move, but he really really hoped this was flirting.

“I don’t think anyone would object to being dressed or undressed by you,” Bucky responded, hoping he could stay neutral until he was sure what you were talking about.

You chewed your lip, looking away as if you were thinking about something.

"I know I certainly haven't. And wouldn't," he added, feeling the need to say something.

You nodded, placing his tie inside his jacket and seeming happy with your work.

“You know, the fit looks great," you announced, "but I’m a little worried that one of the measurements was wrong. Mind if I do your inseam again?”

His throat was dry all of a sudden, but he responded quickly anyways. "Uh, go ahead…"

You looked up at him as you started to sink to your knees, very slowly. That little move looked real good in the mirror behind you. “Last time I did this, there was something getting in the way, made it difficult to know if I was doing it right…”

"M-my apologies," he whispered.

"Oh no, I'm not complaining," you purred as you slowly began to run your fingers up the side of his leg, keeping searing eye contact until his knees felt a little weak.

When your hand reached the top of his inner thigh, the back of it brushed against his balls and he shivered. Delicately, and so excruciatingly slowly, your hand moved higher and gently rubbed his erection through the fabric.

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath.

It must have been all the anticipation that made it so intense, made shivers run up his spine every time your hand moved over his length, made his toes curl inside the ridiculously fancy shoes you’d put him in.

“I’m gonna take it out now, okay? I promise I won’t measure you here,” you winked.

"You can if you want," he shrugged, deciding now was the time for feigned confidence if there ever was one. “I mean, if you’re worried about fit…”

You bit your lip, and he was proud to see the effect his words had on you. “I’ll be honest, I am a little worried it won’t fit…” You were quick with his belt, but slow with his button and fly, apparently having more fun teasing him. “Fuck, Bucky,” you groaned softly as you took his cock out.

“Don’t look so excited, doll, you’ll give me an ego,” he purred.

“Can’t help it,” you sighed, “looks delicious.”

You licked a long wet stripe up from the bottom all the way to the tip, making a show of licking up the bead of pre-cum before taking his head into your mouth, and Bucky blinked a few times to be sure that this was actually happening.

"Been wanting to do that since I first saw you," you admitted, grinning as you stroked him right beside your face, which only helped to illustrate how big he was compared to you.

"Dirty girl," he praised with a smirk.

Flirting, he wasn’t so good at. Conversation in any form typically stressed him out. But this? This he was still pretty good at. And he’d never wanted it so bad before.

When you took him in your mouth again, you didn’t stop until you started to gag; he couldn’t stop himself from moaning through his teeth when you did it.

"Look up at me, princess," he instructed softly, grinning when you obeyed quickly. "Now look over there at that mirror. Look how good you look on your knees for me, choking on my cock."

You moaned around him when you made eye contact with your own reflection, and it felt so fucking good he almost lost it right then and there. He held your jaw, almost too tightly, and guided you as your head bobbed on his length. Your mouth was so warm he thought he would burn up— and it only got warmer the deeper he managed to get. God, he was so ready to pump his load right into your throat, but he wanted to do so much more to you first.

In one quick motion, he pushed you off of his cock, pulled you up to face him, and flipped you around, holding you to his chest with the metal arm and letting the flesh one start rubbing your thigh. This way, both of you were looking at the mirror in front of you, and he loved watching you gasp and moan as you felt and watched his fingers move higher and higher.

“I think it’s time to find out if you really are ‘full-service’,” he purred right against your ear, making searing eye contact with you in the reflection. “You’ve seen so much of me, but I haven’t seen nearly enough of you yet. Been daydreaming about what you could be hiding under these tight little skirts.”

As he pulled up the plaid-patterned fabric, he saw that you were wearing white, lacy panties and he groaned deeply.

“What are you wearing these for?” he teased, rubbing along the edge but never getting where you wanted— and he knew you were getting desperate, because your hips were starting to buck up into his hand. “Were you expecting something would happen today, sweetheart?”

“I— I was hopeful,” you stammered; instantly, he slapped you right on your barely-covered pussy, just hard enough to make you yelp and squirm in his grasp.

“You’re so shameless,” he chuckled darkly, “and I love it. I just hope this isn’t your usual routine— acting all innocent and batting your eyes so your clients will fuck you.”

“No, I swear, it’s just you, Bucky,” you whimpered, “there’s nobody else, please…”

“Please what? Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to… to touch me more,” you whispered, as if it was a secret and not patently obvious.

He slipped two fingers underneath the thin fabric, finding your clit right away (not difficult at all with how swollen it was) and rubbing it in gentle circles.

“Oh god,” you sighed, “Bucky…”

WIth his hand on your hips, it wasn’t hard at all to push you back into him so he could rub his aching cock against you.

"What material is this skirt made of?"

"It's a silk blend," you answered breathlessly, "about 30% cotton."

"It's soft," he purred before yanking your skirt up higher and pressing his cock against your ass instead, "but not as soft as you."

Next to go was your blouse, which he tore open to the sound of buttons flying every direction and bouncing off of the mirrors and floors.

"Bucky!" you yelped, but he could see your nipples harden through the lacy white bra. If there was any doubt that you had intended to seduce him today, the matching undergarments dispelled it.

After teasing your nipples between his fingers for a moment, he reached back down between your legs— and when his fingers slipped through your folds and moved down to your opening, he actually moaned just from how wet you are.

"Fucking hell," he growled, "you are drenched, princess. You liked sucking me off that much?"

"Not just that," you clarified, "you look really good in my suits."

He gave you a toothy smile in the mirror, using it to nibble on your ear a bit. "You deserve most of the credit for that," he purred.

"No, no, I don't," you whined, "you'd look sexy in a paper bag, honestly… you turn me on so much, Bucky."

“Did you… think about me? After I left your shop the other night?” he asked playfully, already foreseeing your answer from the way your thighs clenched and your lips let out the subtlest gasp.

“Yes,” you whimpered.

“You’re smart enough to know I want you to be more specific than that,” he chuckled.

“I thought about you that night… after I got into bed…” you elaborated slowly, clearly distracted by the way he was moving his fingers: delicately, but with obvious intentionality. “I thought about what it would’ve been like if you had grabbed me and kissed me, shoved me against the wall, fucked me right there on my desk… in front of the glass wall, where anyone could’ve walked by and seen you claim me…”

His cock was throbbing, and he wasn’t sure if it was from the image itself or from the knowledge that you’d been fantasizing about it. “Were you touching yourself?” he growled.

“Yes,” you sighed, your thighs starting to visibly shake, your knees bending towards each other in the mirror.

“Show me how,” he demanded. “Show me exactly how you were playing with your needy little pussy while you thought about me.”

Your hand found its place on top of his, your fingers starting to move his to the specific place, guiding his movements to be faster and rougher.

“Oh, I see,” he grinned, “you don’t like to tease yourself, do you? You like to jump right into it, come as many times as you can and rub yourself raw in the process?”

You nodded feverishly, panting and whining and writhing in his grasp.

“You’re so desperate, honey… such a shameless cockwhore for me.”

“For you,” you repeated through your trance, “Bucky, ‘m close… keep touching me, please…”

He kept his thumb on your clit but gently slid one finger inside you, both of you gasping at the sensation (if for different reasons).

“So tight,” he hissed, already pulling it back out, “fuck, and just for one finger…”

“More, please,” you begged mindlessly.

“More? Sure you can take it?”

You bit down on your lip as you nodded, and he pushed a second finger in beside his first. He felt you struggling with it, both in your walls and in the way you winced a little, but you softly begged him to keep going so of course he couldn’t stop. You adjusted quickly, your wetness starting to run down his hand.

“Fuck me,” you whimpered, “now, please, can’t wait anymore.”

“Yes you can,” he encouraged, “and you will, cause I need to taste you first.”

Pulling his fingers out of you, he flipped you around again, finally kissing you the way he’d been dreaming of since he first saw you. It was intense but not too dominating— in spite of everything. It was a romantic sort of kiss, maybe too romantic for the situation (that being his cock out and hard and pressed against you, and his fingers covered in your arousal) but perfect nonetheless.

“That’s not what I thought you meant when you said you wanted to taste me,” you giggled when he pulled away.

“No, I meant it the other way,” he smiled, “I just wanted to do that first.”

He picked you up suddenly, making you gasp a bit, but knelt down to lay you on the floor pretty soon after. You looked up at him with wide eyes as he lifted your leg and kissed his way up. He could smell your need, and he worried it would drive him wild before he reached his destination.

Pulling your soaked panties aside, he realized he could probably come just from looking at you. “Such a gorgeous pussy,” he growled his praise, leaning down to plant a few more teasing kisses over the inside of your thighs. Finally, he started with one long lick, just like you had with him, but you weren’t so patient to tolerate it. Nearly instantly your fingers pulled his hair, clearly trying to guide him to tease you less, but he couldn’t be swayed to go easy on you.

“I hope you’re not forgetting who’s in charge,” he smiled hungrily.

“And what if I am?” you returned, clearly looking to get on his nerves so he’d get rough with you. He was happy to oblige.

Bucky sat up and loosened his tie, slipping it off of his neck with a smirk. "Now, this is 100% Venetian silk, so it should feel nice around your wrists," he cooed. You offered your hands willingly, and he got a chance to show off a few complex knots of his own. "Now be a good girl and keep those hands above your head, alright?"

You did as he asked, freeing him to hold your legs open as he devoured you, alternating between teasing your bud with the tip of his tongue, and fucking you with it.

"You taste like heaven, doll," he growled when he came up quickly, "and the way you moan when my tongue's inside you? I swear I could die happy right now."

"I wish you wouldn't though," you whimpered.

He laughed a bit before he got back to it, letting his tongue focus on your clit while he filled you with his fingers again. Your walls clenched down on him occasionally, and when it became more frequent just as your moans became louder, he knew you were close.

"Stop, stop," you sighed suddenly, pushing him away.

"Are you alright?" he asked, nervous he'd done something wrong.

"No I'm fine, I just… I don't want to come yet. I want you inside me first."

"And what about what I want, hm? What if I want to watch you come just from my tongue?" he offered instead, though he was definitely still very persuadable in this regard.

"I know you wanna fuck me, Bucky, don't make me wait any longer,” you moaned, your back arching up a little from the floor.

Not needing to be told twice, he flipped you onto your elbows and knees, making sure you could support yourself with bound wrists before letting you go. His hands running over your exposed ass and thighs made you shiver, and he smiled down at you. At this point, he was probably more desperate than you were, but he was doing a much better job of hiding it, even taking the time to reach up and undo a few of the buttons of his shirt, because wow suits are warm and not meant for his level of physical activity.

Still, he figured he had waited long enough— he needed to fuck you while he still had at least a shred of patience left. He was going to need it if he was going to give you time to adjust to him.

Holding his cock and rubbing it through your folds, he chuckled when you whined and dropped your head down in a pout. He loved watching your expression shift into a gasp as he pushed in.

He went slow, but he didn't stop either. He wanted to test you just a little. He wanted to stretch you open.

"Fuck," you cried, "god, you're so… you feel so…"

"Look in the mirror," he instructed coldly, although the coldness was just a front for the way he was holding himself back as your body swallowed him so beautifully.

You moaned again, higher-pitched and weak, just as he finally got all the way in. He waited until he felt your body relax a bit before he asked if it was okay for him to move yet. You answered with a quick nod, a breathy "please," and he didn't need any more encouragement.

It was probably too fast to start off with, but god, he'd been waiting so long to fuck you like this.

"Baby," he whispered, "you're so perfect."

He held you steady and thrusted deep, so deep that it made you gasp each time. You looked incredible, and you felt incredible, but the way you sounded was just… divine. He could never have imagined the beautiful way you would sound when he was bringing you pleasure like this. Having heard it, he wanted to make you sound like this as often as possible from now on. Technically he couldn’t even be sure he’d get another chance to, but surely sounds this perfect meant you had to be having a good time, right? Ideally a good enough time to call him again?

He was snapped back to focus when he saw your eyes flutter shut with pleasure.

"Don't look away from that mirror, honey," he growled, "don't close your eyes. Look how pretty you look like this."

He could tell you loved it from the way your channel fluttered and flexed.

"You like watching yourself get fucked, princess?"

"Yes," you sobbed as he grabbed your hips harder, hoping to leave a bruise, "it feels so good, Bucky, please don't stop!"

"I won't stop, pretty girl. Not until you cream on my cock," he grunted.

"Fuck, I'm close," you whined, "Bucky, I'm gonna come— oh god right there!"

And he was sure it couldn’t be fake from the way your body tightened and released so many times, the way you quivered and your breathing seemed to stop for a moment. Even though he could barely take it, he kept fucking you through it until you were shaking so violently that he worried about your health.

“You feel so goddamn good when you come, princess,” he moaned softly. “Tryin’ to milk my cock for all it’s worth, aren’t you?”

You laughed a little, sounding exhausted, but as he kept fucking you he could feel how sensitive you had become. When he reached down to push your skirt back up to your waist after it had started to fall down a bit, he felt his own movements in your gut and it took so much not to lose his cool in that moment. Instead, he pulled your upper body into his so that you could see in the mirror the way your lower stomach was bulging a bit each time he pushed in all the way.

"F-fuck, Bucky," you whimpered.

"Anybody ever been that deep inside you before?"

"No, not even close," you moaned.

"Am I hurting you?" he asked gently, kissing up and down your neck slowly to match his lazy, teasing thrusts.

"A little," you admitted, "but it feels good. Don't stop."

He wasn’t so brutal with his thrusts, still deep but with a patient, measured pace. It staved off his orgasm a bit longer, and it made you moan all slow and throaty which was not better or worse than the needy, high-pitched moans, but enjoyably different. You didn’t sound as desperate anymore (probably because you’d already come), instead seeming relaxed and calm— if still arching your back and biting your lip nonetheless.

"I wanna come inside you," he whispered right against your ear; he could feel the way you shivered as a result.

"Please," you whimpered.

"Is that what you want? Wanna be full of my come?"

"Yes," you sobbed, "yes, please Bucky I need it so bad!"

"Fuck, gonna fill you up so good, doll," he promised gruffly. "Want me to make you mine, beautiful?"

He knew it was a risky thing to say, but his risks had paid off so far, and he wasn't in his most cautious mood.

"Already yours, Bucky," you sighed, "I'm yours, please come in me…"

It hit him suddenly when you said that, and harder than he expected. He hadn't come like that in… he hadn't come like that ever. He preferred not to think about the sudden, wavering moan he let out in that moment because he wondered if it sounded unsexy, but thankfully his mind was distracted by the overwhelming sensation of his softening, sensitive cock still within you.

He managed to maneuver you in the way he needed as he pulled out, leaning you back into him and holding your legs open to the mirror in front of you.

"Look in the mirror, sweetheart,” he instructed, his whisper a little labored as he was still catching his breath, “watch my come leak outta your pussy."

You seemed to be in awe of it, despite it being the obvious outcome of what had just happened. To be fair, he was in awe of it in a sense, too; a thick, slow stream of sticky white come dripping down from your swollen hole and onto the floor… it was mesmerizing.

Your body was limp in his arms as he finally allowed you to rest, your eyes falling shut as you melted into his embrace. He took a moment to untie your wrists, tossing the garment aside with an exhausted sigh. “Bucky…” you mumbled sleepily, apparently just to say his name.

“Was that… sort of what you were hoping for today?” he asked softly, kissing your temple.

“And more,” you giggled. “Oh my god, I… I don’t even know how to describe that… you’re so… fuck, I don’t know, my brain is totally jelly right now.”

“In a good way?”

“In the best way.”

He smiled, admiring your vacant-yet-pleased expression and feeling satisfied with his work. You turned over to lay your head on his chest, and he gladly draped his arms around you in response. Holding you like this felt so purely right, in a way so few things did to him. Funny enough, even just having fucked you on the floor and already holding you afterwards right now, he felt nervous again that he would say something wrong. You were a modern woman, after all, and maybe this was this ‘hook-up culture’ he kept hearing about.

“Was that true what you said, doll?” he asked gently, feeling you stir a little and slide a leg up to rest over his. “Did you mean it when you said that you were mine? Or was it just, you know, the heat of the moment…?”

You smiled a little, looking kind of embarrassed. “Um, yeah, I meant that… I’m yours, if you want me to be.”

He didn’t feel as guilty for feeling so possessive over you now. Clearly it was appreciated, in the right context. And he was now at least 75% sure that this wasn’t a hook-up. “Well, I’m yours, too,” he replied with a soft laugh, “whether you want me or not.”

“I want you,” you confirmed.

You laid in silence together for some unknowable amount of time, but it was a purely unawkward silence. A peaceful silence, and one filled with possibilities, but not uncomfortable. Maybe it was uncomfortable in the sense that the carpet, while still being very plushy and expensive, was still the floor and not as forgiving as a bed… but it was completely worth it.

Part of him feared to ruin the moment by speaking, but much more of him feared that you would slip out of his grasp if he didn’t say something. "This may be the wrong time to ask this— or maybe just the wrong order to do this stuff in— but I wanted to ask if you'd like to join me for dinner sometime."

You laughed, but cuddled deeper into his chest. "Um, yeah, that would be nice."

"I just hope I'll find something nice to wear," he grinned.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes headcanons #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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itmighthavebeenintentional · 3 years

Text

We've Got Tonight - Ch 5

Summary: “It’s not your job to do this, Andy. You make people happy. I was in the diner all of ten minutes, and you knew exactly how to get me to smile. You do normal, real things like garden and sing karaoke. Saving the world is my job, Sam’s job. Sometimes it’s even Cas’s job, but it’s not yours.”

Inspired by Bob Seger’s “We’ve Got Tonight”

Warnings: Major Character Death, More Major Character Deaths (sort of?), higher than show level violence, blood, light smutting, language, demons, apocalypse, inferred suicide, cult activity.

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT PROCEED

Author’s Note: This story is set hazily around season 8. Just squint a little, and it’ll settle in somewhere. I wrote this story after certain big revelations in the show, but before other big ones; you’ll most likely be able to tell which. I play with time a bit in the story itself, so if things seem out of order, they are. Hopefully, by the end, all the pieces will fit together.

What the hell, let’s give it a shot.

Image and major edits by the incomparable @there-must-be-a-lock . Heavy editing and cheering by @thoughtslikeaminefield . Thank you both so much.

This chapter in particular is dedicated to @foxyjwls007 . If I'm going to torture you with something, it's not going to be a cliffhanger. I'm going out of town for two weeks, so you get an update early since I won't be able to post while I'm away. Thank you for the encouragement.

In case you missed it: Chapter 4 ItMightHaveBeenIntentional’s Masterlist

...

We’ve Got Tonight

Chapter 5

“Miss? Miss? Hey, are you okay?”

A hand grips Andy’s arm, firm but polite, and she jerks to, almost losing her footing. It’s been a long day already, and she still has two hours before she can go home, shower, and put her feet up for a little while before karaoke at the Brass Monkey starts up.

Maybe I can even fit in a nap, she thinks excitedly. But first, gotta wake up and make it through the rest of my shift.

Of course, if she hadn’t been tossing and turning all night from a crazy dream, she wouldn’t be as tired as she is now, but that’s neither here nor there. And it doesn’t help that she can’t even remember the stupid dream. It was really long, though, and there was blood and books and…someone...

“Can I get a refill over here?”

One hour, forty-seven minutes, and twenty-two seconds to go. She can do this.

The minutes crawl, though, and it’s all she can do to stay on her feet and focus. The lunch crowd has long since thinned, and she’s about to ask if she can maybe take off a little early when the door chimes, and she catches the tail end of the entering customers’ conversation.

“Could you at least consider putting something green on your plate? Like, ever? Broccoli won’t kill you.”

“I’ve already told you, I’m getting breakfast since you didn’t wake me up early enough to eat a decent one this morning. Pancakes, bacon, and coffee, which, I might add, grows on a tree, so it counts as a plant. That’s balanced enough for me. You like broccoli; knock yourself out, Jolly Green.”

“Sam isn’t green, Dean. Is your vision faulty? Perhaps we should get your eyes examined. Or you could try carrots along with the broccoli. Carrots are supposed to improve vision.”

No. No, no, no, she thinks, her mind whirling frantically. It was a dream, they can’t be here. This is...this is how it started, and...

She turns, and there they are, Sam and Dean dolled up in their clean, pressed feds suits and Cas looking just as rumpled and bewildered as she suddenly remembers. They seat themselves at an empty table in her section, but any thoughts of leaving early evaporated the second she heard their voices.

Every moment of the dream, every minute of those four weeks comes screaming back, cramming each terror-laden, tension-ridden second into her mind so fast she actually does stumble and has to grab the back of a nearby booth to keep from hitting the worn-out linoleum.

“It...hasn’t happened yet.”

“I’m sorry, did you say something? Hey, hey, hold on there. Are you okay?”

Then Sam’s hand is supporting her elbow, helping her straighten up, and she looks up into his concerned eyes, unable to express how glad she is just to see him breathing. Behind him, Dean and Cas are arguing about something trivial, wonderfully animated and alive and completely unaware of her.

“I’m sorry, hun, it’s just been a long shift. Gimme a minute to grab some waters and menus, and I’ll be right over.” Sam accepts her flimsy excuse at face value, and why wouldn’t he? He hasn’t lived with her for the better part of a month, hasn’t saved her life once, hasn’t tried to save the world with her. He doesn’t know her at all.

Why should he question a strange waitress in a strange diner who says she’s had a long day? He’s met hundreds of women just like her, maybe thousands, and he’s got no reason to question a completely legitimate statement.

She rushes into the back to find the coldest water possible to splash on her face. Her reflection gapes back at her from the staff bathroom mirror as the enormity of her situation begins to dawn on her.

Why? Why is this happening? Either she actually lived through those weeks and is somehow getting a do-over, or she dreamed the whole thing and is getting a shot to fix things from this end. But why? And how?

How in the hell?

Think, Andrea, think. It was real. It will be real. It hasn’t happened yet. You haven’t screwed everything up yet. You have to fix this. But how? How can I fix it when I screwed everything up so very badly last time?

Just...think. Think. Start small. Try to stop it before it happens. But...the cult. Crowley said they were real. They found me before, they’ll find me again. I could talk to Sam and Dean and Cas about what's going to happen. They’ve been through enough insanity in their lives that I actually have a pretty good shot at convincing them.

She stares into the mirror, racking her brain for every helpful detail she learned during her time with the Winchesters.

They're already investigating all the break-ins hereabouts; those were the cultists looking for me in the first place. Then they find me, take me, bleed me, and start the apocalypse. The boys could stop the ritual before it even happens.

Her reflection in the mirror frowns, unconvinced the solution could possibly be that easy.

But the literature, the books, it’s all still out there. Someone else could find it, could come after me. My blood is the problem. I’m the key. As long as I’m around, someone could still use me to end everything. Crowley can still use me to get to them. Think. You’ve got to actually stop everything and save them this time.

Her eyes widen as realization dawns. The world can’t make it without the Winchesters. There’s only one way out of this.

Fifteen minutes later, she sets a fresh green salad in front of Sam before dropping a towering stack of steaming pancakes in front of Dean.

“Fresh pot of coffee coming off in two, be right back with your refills. Need any more butter or syrup, hun? How ‘bout a couple of extra pieces of bacon on the house?”

“Don’t encourage him, please,” Sam groans. Dean slaps his brother on the back of the head, sending Sam’s coiffed hair into a tizzy of disarray. Sam swipes back at his brother, who waves off Sam’s attempts at retaliation like he’s swatting a fly.

“You shut your pie hole. She said free bacon. That makes her a queen.” He turns his most charming smile on her, glancing down at her name tag then back up to meet her gaze squarely. The crinkles around his eyes deepen with his grin. “Andrea, is it?”

“Andy,” she corrects automatically, and she can’t help her answering smile. He throws her a wink that clearly says he knows he’s cheesy but it's all part of his irresistible charm.

She doesn’t disagree.

“You are a goddess, Andy. I love you, and you need to know that.”

“You don’t,” she says, only just managing to keep her voice and smile level, “but you could.” His answering laugh sends a twinge through her chest, and if she clenches her jaw a little around her smile, she figures she’s entitled.

When the men finally finish eating, she offers a slip of paper to Dean, while Sam pretends he isn’t rolling his eyes.

“There’s a karaoke competition at the Brass Monkey tonight. Winner gets tab on the house for a week. Interested in maybe meeting up there around ten or so? We could have a drink, sing a song, and see where the rest of the night takes us.”

He grins and takes the slip from her with sure fingers. She’s certain he has her number memorized before the paper even retains his prints, but he makes a special show of tucking it safely into his pocket.

“Dean, do you think it wise to allow yourself to be so distracted when we’re in the middle of an investigation?”

And without even realizing it, Cas gives her the perfect opening.

“Oh, you boys investigating all the break-ins hereabouts? Were they too much for our local boys to handle? Listen, hun, my friend was one of the ladies whose house got broken into. If you want to stick around for a few minutes, I can fill you in on what I know and send you her way. Would that help?”

Castiel’s eyebrows lift in surprise, and he is clearly pleased with his first-rate investigating skills. “That would help immensely, Miss Andrea. Thank you.”

She can’t believe her luck at such a perfect lead-in, and she runs with it.

“Now that I think about it, the shop next door mentioned something about their alarm getting tripped a few nights in a row. Maybe I could talk to your friend while you two check it out? And I’ll see you tonight, Dean? Ten o’clock?”

Dean’s grin softens, and she can see the faintest tinge of red along his cheeks. She didn’t notice it the first time around, and now she wishes she’d paid more attention. Then the brothers leave, and she’s alone with the angel. ...

Chapter 6

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imagineimaginethat · 3 years

Text

It’s Hard to Believe

Reader Insert Fic

Prompt: Shingen thinks you’ve died, but finds out you’re still alive

Main pairing: Shingen/Reader, but other characters are there too

Inspiration: Coming up for Air by Signals in Smoke

Trigger warnings: MC death (temporarily), Sad vibes (happy ending though), memory loss

Shingen was desperate when he realized you had been kidnapped. The day had been so normal, no whispers, not even so much as a cloud in the sky. You had gone into town, more than likely to get fabric or just stretch your legs. Shingen had declined to go, he had so much work to do. Had he known.... had he only known how much danger you were in he would have never let you out of his sight for even a fraction of a moment. Your captors had been slick, but you had experience with these sort of situations, unfortunately. You left one sandal in the marketplace which tipped off Sauske when he and Yukimura went searching for you. Shingen didn’t hesitate to have as many men as possible look for you. He even sent a letter to Nobunaga who immediately wrote back that one, he would spare nothing in the search to find you, and two, he had no connection to your kidnapping.

Finally, after over two weeks had gone by with everyone worried sick, Mitsuhide picked up on something. Sauske followed up on the lead and sure enough found you. Unreachable and locked away in a dank moldy prison cell by a captor with a mean vendetta against the Takeda and Oda alliance in Kai. You hadn’t been given any food in your time there and very little water, Sauske knew time was of the essence and communicated that to the warlords. They mobilize quickly. Their frantic efforts made them more reckless than ever. The enemy knew they were coming. Shingen and Nobunaga reached you a split second too late. As they slid the door open your captor held you at arms length away on the edge of an open window which faced the edge of a towering cliff. You could struggle, one step would have sent you over the edge.

“Let’s see how well the Takeda and Oda clans cooperate now.”

And just like that you were dropped into the night. Shingen and Nobunaga raced over to find nothing but pitch black darkness. Yukimura was at his Lord’s side in seconds, stopping him from diving after you. It was dark, surely a search by the shore would be more fruitful. Kenshin arrived shortly after along with the other warlords and vassals. Mitsuhide and Hideyoshi were quick to have the captor escorted to a prison in Azuchi. They were anxious to get on with the search for you more than anything though.

All of the men, vassals, soldiers, and warlords alike spent all night searching for the lovely Princess from the Oda clan that had been so kind and helpful everywhere she went. It didn’t matter which side they were on usually all that mattered was finding you.

The water was frigid, if you were there you didn’t have much time. They all knew how perilous cold waters could be in the winter.

So, when the first rays of dawn reached into the sky and a somber Masamune came from the bank of the rushing river where jagged rocks lined the shoreline with a beautiful, but blood stained and soaking wet kimono, all hope drained from the search party.

He handed it off to Shingen to inspect to make sure it was yours. He already knew it was though, no one else made such lovely things. He closed his one eye walking into Ieyasu on his way back to the horses, he managed to put his hand on his shoulder and shake his head once.

“The little lass is gone.”

They knew times were rough. The world was dangerous, but they never truly prepared themselves to lose you. Even if you had one day disappeared back to wherever you came from they could dream, imagine, you were off on some adventure in your strange clothes using the strange terms that you and Sauske often used and you were alright.

Shingen looked away from everyone, but he was not quick enough to hide his tears from Yukimura who didn’t have any words for his grief stricken Lord. He looked to Sauske who seemed to have a shadow on his face. Yukimura could barely breathe when it came crashing down on him.

He could only manage to say two words:

“She’s gone.”

Coming in like a wild boar from the middle of nowhere, it was like a gaping hole had been left in his heart. He didn’t even know what to think. What had been the last thing he said to you? Was it something rude? What if you two had last argued? He tried to think but his brain refused to work.

Shingen remembered his last words to you with perfect clarity, it replayed in his mind over and over again.

“Shingen I’m going to the market, would you like to come with me?”

“Oh, wonderful goddess it pains me not to spend another moment more with you, but I must finish this work. Oh, to decline the offer to accompany an angel, I promise to make up for my absence at your side after dinner.”

“That’s alright Shingen, you don’t have to lay it on so thick, I’ll see you when I get back. Love you!”

“You are my heart.”

He should have went. He didn’t go and now he’d never be able to make it up to you, he’d never see her again, he would never love again. His heart stopped the when your kimono was handed to him, it began to slow the minute you were thrown from the window. Maybe if he had dived after you? Had he arrived earlier? Had he taken less men? Perhaps if he had acted sooner? Maybe he should have waited?

Shingen played a million scenarios in his mind, but not a single one ended with you in his arms, he simply couldn’t imagine it. Even when he was at his very sickest, never then had he known such an ill than the one he felt holding the bloody kimono in his hands. It was cold and wet and he had a feeling the icy waters had taken your body far from him.

Shingen mourned for weeks. Everything reminded him of you. The snow, the moon, flowers, beautiful kimonos, none as beautiful as the ones you made, be wore nothing but the gifts you had made for him, and there was no consoling him. Yukimura spent his time divided between sitting with Shingen in silence, sitting with Sauske in silence, and finally sitting alone.

Kenshin drank alone bitterly, his sword aching to be used, but he had lost the motivation to wield it. The light of his castle was gone. He didn’t even realize how bright you had been while you were here, and now that you were gone it was as though someone put out every flame in sight. Not even the sun was warm or bright enough to break up the darkness.

In Azuchi the captor was executed. It didn’t make anyone feel any better though. They pushed themselves into their work even more than before. The Oda and Takeda alliance in the name of peace didn’t fall apart, but it wasn’t nearly as warm. Your old room was like a haunting memory of the time you spent there on visits and the short time you spent living with the Oda forces.

Nobunaga ran things as normal, but it was obvious losing you had hurt him in a way that seemed to be unfamiliar to the warlord. He knew loss, he had seen it, had felt it, but this... he didn’t know what to call what he was feeling.

You were gone.

Or so it seemed.

You were not actually dead, incredibly lost, suffering from a terrible head injury in a remote village? Yes, but fortunately very much so still alive. You remembered little tidbits of your early life and fragments from your time in this era. You would remember something every now and then at random, such as Sauske’s ground spikes and Shingen’s beautiful face. However, you didn’t actually remember their names and so the kind villagers who had found your body in the water thought you were delirious and did their best to nurse you back to health. This had been well over a month ago, but you weren’t sure when or how you had gotten so lost, sick, and beat up.

You were extremely grateful for everyone’s hospitality, but you wanted answers and to also get back to your old life as soon as possible even if you didn’t remember much of it.

One day one of the familiar faces you remembered came to town. The one with white hair and golden eyes like a fox.

His eyes widened upon seeing you.

“Y/N?”

“Hello,” you greeted him respectfully, not familiarly at all, “I’m afraid I know your face, but not who you are. I think I was in some sort of accident.”

Seeing you is literally like seeing a ghost. Not even Mitsuhide can hide his shock.

He could see that you were still very much so in recovery and the journey back to either lands that you once called home would not be best for you. Instead he did what he seemed to be the right course of action and promised you he’d send word to others that knew you well so that they could possibly help you. He sent two messengers, one to the Takeda forces, and one to the Oda forces to meet him in the village immediately due to a dire emergency. He didn’t include your name in it as he was afraid it would be picked up by someone that might have meant you well. He was not going to risk losing you again. Sauske was first to arrive on the scene as Kenshin’s right hand ninja.

When he saw you by the water washing clothes he thought for sure he was hallucinating. When he saw Mitsuhide, who had awaited their arrival rather impatiently, was looking at you as well, he raced over to you. When all you could give him were fragments of your time together his heart ached deeply, but the hole that was there from thinking you were dead had begun to be mended upon sight of you.

The rest of the Oda forces and Kenshin arrived next. They were quick with their greetings. You were happy to see them all, you remembered few scarce moments with them and admitted this, claimed you knew they had to be important to you because of how well you could remember their faces and random things about them. Kenshin demanded you never die again, which you didn’t fully understand, promised him to live for as long as you could.

Shingen hadn’t been out of Kai for a very long time. Not since you had left his world.

He and Yukimura took it slow, trusting whatever emergency lied ahead wasn’t totally out of control.

When Shingen first saw the quaint little village he smiled to himself, “she would have loved it in a place like this.”

“She loved it everywhere,” Yukimura tried to joke, “as long as you were there, she’d have gone anywhere and said it was nice.”

Shingen smiled at Yuki’s attempt to cheer him up. He rode slowly into the village and came upon the huddle of Oda forces, who upon seeing him began to disperse like a parted river. Shingen was not expecting what he saw before him. Never in a million years did he dare to think he’d see you again.

And yet, here you are. Smiling as though the world wasn’t dark, as if it hadn’t be cruel, and a place embedded with great pain and suffering.

When you saw Shingen, something in your mind tried to click, but refused. At once you felt overcome with emotions as tears sprang to your eyes.

He embraced you so carefully, as if you were an escaped dream brought to life for only but a moment. He could t bring himself to move or let go.

“My angel has flown back to me.”

“I don’t know your name, or as much as I think I should know about you, I’m so sorry. I know you mean a lot to me, I just can’t-”

“That’s alright.” Shingen placed a hand on your head, stroking your hair, “you being here right now is more than enough. You can come to remember me again slowly or we can make all new memories, as long as you’re alive that’s alright.”

You agreed to go back to living in Kasugayama after Ieyasu gave you his doctors okay with more than a few seemingly unnecessary herbs, ointments, and other medicines. You were sure this was how he showed you he cared.

Back in the castle you began to remember things a bit more, specific moments In time. Major parts of your time there were still fleeting which was frustrating. You and Shingen grew close again and he never left your side, when he absolutely had to Sauske or Yuki were assigned to watch you, and they tools this job seriously. You thought they were overreacting until Sauske broke down and told you all that had happened to you. With his refresher you remembered a few other times you had been kidnapped, but not the time he was specifically talking about, you weee kind of grateful for that.

Shingen spent time with you, he didn’t dwell on what you didn’t remember, just as he promised you began to make new memories. It was well into spring at this point and you were even more certain you were in love with him and glad to be so. Shingen didn’t push or prod about old memories he just patiently waits for days when you come bursting in and asking if he remembered something like attending a festival or a very specific conversation you’d both had. He’d happily confirm that he did in fact remember it and fill in any small gaps. He never tried to sugar cost things either, he told things as they happened. As nice as it would be to paint everything in beautiful strokes of never ending happiness that wouldn’t be real, and what the two of you have deserves nothing less than pure honesty and authenticity.

One day, Shingen was accompanying you to the market when you saw a beautiful fabric. It was the very same one you had seen the first time went somewhere with you. That same wonder filled your eyes and he smiled prepared to offer to buy it all over again. He wondered to himself if you’d make the same thing once again. However it was as though the fabric was woven together by memories, when you touched it, suddenly everything came flowing back. With each memory more and more tears began to fall. You held onto Shingen tightly and he was silent.

You bared your entire soul to him, from your first memories to your last, from Azuchi to Kasugayama, you remembered it all. Shingen was thrilled to be able to reminisce and build from even more memories.

“The power of my wonder pjs goddess never ceases to amaze me. Please, never levave me again, lest you take me with you lovely angel.”

You shouldn’t make promises you have no control over, it instead of coming up with something that was doable but also reassuring you simply nodded, “I promise I’ll never leave again, Shingen.”

It was hard for him to believe even for one moment that he had lost you. .

#ikemen series #ikesen kenshin #ikemen shingen #ikesen shingen #sad boi hours #sad #feels #trigger warning #mc death #reader insert death #how do i tag for this #i made myself sad #Why did I do this #I'm sorry #I'll post something happy

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mortuarybees · 5 years

Text

It looks like this:

Crowley stands at the counter in sweatpants and combat boots, muttering to himself as he counts out bills with hands shaking from the release of adrenaline for a bag of chips (he’s always starving after a gig) and a pack of cigarettes (Aziraphale is going to tut at him and refuse to kiss him until he brushes his teeth, but he insists the nicotine will settle him). Aziraphale is beside him, his crisp white collar smudged with lipstick; his cheek and lips are stained red.

(It looks like this:

Crowley does drag every Saturday night, and has for almost twenty years. Aziraphale has been at nearly every one of his shows, and he always sits right by the stage, always stands up to cheer at Crowley’s act, always throws a flower on the stage--when they’re both gainfully employed, he’ll buy one; when they’re not, he’ll pick one, from a rose bush outside a bank or a patch of pansies in the park, or even a weed if he must, never picked from the flowers Crowley keeps on their small and structurally unsound balcony--and when it’s over, he’ll make his way to the green room, and the moment he enters, Crowley will drop his makeup wipe and run to him, fling himself into his arms, pepper his face with kisses, dizzy with the energy of a show, and the other queens will roll their eyes and groan and hide their smiles behind makeup brushes and hands, and sometimes Aziraphale, if his back isn’t bothering him too terribly, will spin him around--he always did when they were younger, but retail is hell on the body--but he’ll always tell him he did wonderfully, he looks beautiful, it was his best show yet, and he says it so earnestly Crowley can’t help but believe him)

He holds the duffel bag with Crowley’s costume in it and his heels, because Crowley is not going to put those wretched things back on; he might’ve strutted home towering over London at twenty-five, but he’s going on forty now, he’s too old for that, and he doesn’t need heels to make his ass look great, thanks. Or so Aziraphale tells him, and that’s the only opinion that matters, he supposes. There’s glitter falling off him every time he moves; it’s in his hairline, and smeared on the bills. The cashier has worked this shift for months now, she’s used to it.

(It looks like this:

Almost every Saturday, on the walk home, Crowley begins complaining that he’s hungry, and Aziraphale will tell him that he told him so, he wanted to bring biscuits but Crowley said no, he’s cutting back on the sweets, it’s all lean greens for him, here on, just you watch, angel, I’m going vegan, and Crowley will whine until he agrees, and they’ll stop at the corner store and Crowley will pick out some junk food or another, admitting he sees now the foolishness of healthy living, who cares about sodium or sugar, everyone dies eventually, if he dies of cheese puffs, he’ll count himself lucky, and sometimes Aziraphale will get a snack cake if he’s feeling peckish, and when they go to the counter, he’ll nonchalantly ask for a pack of smokes. And Aziraphale will remind him, quite archly, that he said he was quitting, and Crowley will say, “I am, angel, just this once, i’ve gotta settle down somehow or i won’t sleep” and Aziraphale will point out he bought a pack last week, and if he isn’t smoking them, why does he need to buy another pack tonight? And Crowley, who is terrible at lying to him, will avoid his eyes and mutter about losing them or Hastur at work bumming off him on breaks, which isn’t technically a lie, the bastard.)

The florescent lights are harsh, and they look all wrong on Aziraphale, who seems to radiate a kind of warm lamplight that contrasts oddly with cold overheads, but Crowley catches his distorted reflection in the locked glass case of cigarettes, and vain as he is, he thinks they look nice on him, making the cut of his cheekbones look harsher than they are, the red of his hair bloody, the hollows between his knuckles dark. His hands look old, he thinks, like he’s lived much longer than he has.

He and Aziraphale make an odd pair, he knows, admiring them in the reflection. Aziraphale, wearing an argyle sweatervest and a plaid tie, in his tweed jacket and corduroys and round glasses; Crowley, sloppily-removed makeup staining his face, in an ONLY ANARCHISTS ARE PRETTY shirt that’s older than the cashier whose screen-printed text can hardly even be read anymore, and his flash Valentino sunglasses he found in a charity shop and loved so much they took out of their savings for, and then of course their AC window unit stopped working two days later in the middle of the heatwave, but Aziraphale swore it was worth it, handsome as he looked in them. They look odd, he knows, but he likes it. He loves it.

The cashier hands him his receipt and his change with his pack of cigarettes, and Crowley holds the door for Aziraphale on their way out. He lights a cigarette, and Aziraphale grouses at him to go and walk on the other side of the street if he’s going to be smoking one of those awful things, but he lets Crowley take his arm, lean his head on his shoulder, even takes a drag when Crowley offers him one, his lips meeting Crowley’s fingers on the filter. He’ll never accept the cigarette if Crowley tries to pass it to him, but he nearly always will if Crowley puts it up to his mouth, holds onto it himself. Crowley doesn’t know why; he still coughs and makes faces and says how awful it is, but he likes it, so he doesn’t ask.

“I wrote tonight’s song for you,” Crowley tells him in the dark street, and Aziraphale huffs a laugh; it’s more well-trod ground between them, familiar and never boring.

“You wrote I Really Like You by Carly Rae Jepsen for me?” Aziraphale teases, and Crowley nods solemnly. “How grand of you, dear, writing me another pop sensation.”

“Gotta tell the whole world,” Crowley says, and Aziraphale rolls his eyes, as if he’s joking, which won’t do, so he says, “I’m serious! I’ll tell everyone, angel,” and he raises his voice to shout into the quiet street, “I really, really, really--”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale scolds, but he’s laughing, “it’s one in the morning, people are trying to sleep!”

“What’re they dreaming of that’s better than what we’ve got?” Crowley says, and Aziraphale blushes at that, ducks his head to hide his smile, and Crowley takes a drag of his cigarette, pleased with himself, pleased with the man on his arm, pleased with the lipstick on his cheek that matches the stain on Crowley’s mouth, pleased with the glitter on the cigarette where he holds it between two fingers, pleased with the stamp of his old boots echoing in the street.

(It looks like this:

In the morning, Aziraphale will wake up early, bustle around in the kitchen trying his best to be quiet so he doesn’t wake Crowley on his one day off, but the kitchen as small as it is, Aziraphale as clumsy as he is, the walls as thin as they are, it’s a hopeless cause, and he’ll leave for church, and Crowley will roll into the warm spot he left in the bed. He’ll fall back to sleep with his face pressed into the pillow that smells like his shampoo, thinking that it’s a good thing he’s already got everything he might pray for and God had nothing to do with it, or else he might have to get up and go to church with all the other sorry bastards (and Aziraphale, who he thinks prays for inner peace and money and probably begs forgiveness for whatever blasphemy Crowley’s been cheerfully spewing the past week). Really, he thinks the hours are the whole reason he left the church. He could never worship a morning person.

Or at least, given Aziraphale’s tendency to wake at dawn, not another one.)

#henry speaks #i'm emo about them :/#good omens #ineffable husbands #human au #henry writes

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heartslogos · 3 years

Text

no star in isolation [3]

The apple had been a bad decision. Mona can see that, now, but hindsight is always superior to the thoughts of the present. Of course there had been a reason why those apples were untouched, left at the bottom of the crate by the hilchurls.

Even the hilchurls could tell that eating them wasn’t worth it.

They looked alright. But they had tasted dry and mealy, not yet rotten but getting there. The one apple she managed to stomach left a strange filmy residue on her teeth that took ages and a lucky find of mint to scrub off. Mona doesn’t want to know how old those apples were, or what they’d gone through, to get such a texture. But she’d been so very, very hungry and begs aren’t afford to be picky. So she’d eaten the apple down to the core and felt thankful for having that much.

It was free, after all.

But she’s regretting it now. The apple might not have been rotten, but it was unsatisfying. It seemed like enough at the time — enough that she left behind the other two that she’d found, another decision she’s starting to regret now that hunger pangs are making her want to curl over herself. She should’ve eaten the other two, no matter how strange and particularly unpleasant they had felt in her mouth. Mona is hungry again and she doubts there’s going to be much in the way of free, or practically free, food to be found in the areas this close to the vibrant and bustling city of Mondstadt proper.

Rather than satisfying her hunger as she’d hoped, the apple seems to have made it worse. Her stomach seems to now recall how poorly she’s been neglecting it in favor of feeding her mind’s appetites. If only she could live on research alone and the satisfaction that comes from connecting new ideas and theories together!

Even with her wide brimmed hat the early afternoon sun of Mondstadt is already causing Mona to feel sluggish. She quickly ducks behind some buildings, searching out somewhere quiet and shaded where she won’t be spotted.

It wouldn’t do for the Astrologist Mona Megistus to be caught slumped over and curled up in the middle of the day. How unbecoming!

She just needs a moment to sit down and get herself under control and think out her next moves. She can risk fighting a few more hilchurls and hoping their camps have something edible, or foraging in the areas farther out from Mondstadt. That is, if she has the energy for it.

Her next check from The Steambird isn’t due to be deposited into her account for another week. She has rent due the same week, and she also has to pay down the interest on the new set of charts she’s having shipped from Liyue. Mona has some mora set aside for that she was going to have wired over along with the interest fee, but she may have to dip into that to buy whatever Blanche may be willing to liquidate at a sharply discounted price.

Mona’s stomach turns over on itself making her wince a little. Chances are that whatever Mona can afford would be of similar condition as the apple she’d eaten earlier. It would still be better than nothing.

Her stomach lets out an embarrassingly loud rumble. Mona clamps both hands over it, scowling down as though she can bully her body into obedience. What an embarrassing situation for Mona Megistus! But this is the suffering she endures for the sake of her studies.

The sound of a soft chuckle startles Mona into almost falling over as she scrambles to her feet. Her heel catches the edge of her cape as she stands, almost sending her pitching forward before a hand catches the back of her cape and holds her steady.

Mona looks over her shoulder and sees red, red, red.

Oh! Fate is being exceptionally spiteful today.

Master Diluc is leaning out a window she hadn’t noticed was open earlier — partially obscured by some stacked crates — arm stretched out and holding the back of her cape. Seeing that she’s alright now, he lets go. His broad shoulders twist a little as he turns in the window to see her better, brilliant red hair flowing over one shoulder.

Mona quickly straightens up, adjusting her cape and hat before bowing.

“Apologies, Master Diluc for such an unsightly meeting!”

She hadn’t realized that the building she’d taken refuge behind was the Angel’s Share.

Diluc waves his hand, shrugging. “As far as meetings go this is far from the worst.” He leans his elbows on the windowsill, eyes squinting at her, “You’re…Mona? The astrologist?”

Mona nods, entering another bow — this time with a flourish of her cape, “Astrologist Mona Megistus, at your service.”

Her wonderfully proper and elegant bow is ruined by the sound of her stomach letting out another horrifically loud and petulant sounding grumble that Mona attempts to — and definitely fails at — covering up by forcing a laugh.

Diluc’s eyebrows are raised into his bangs.

“Right,” he says slowly, “Well. This is the Angel’s Share. Also at your service. Come inside and eat something before you faint.”

“Oh, no — I — “ Mona stumbles over her current predicament.

“If you faint,” Diluc says, “It looks bad for business. A young lady passed out right next to the Angel’s Share. I’d have the knights swarming the place and asking a million frivolous questions.”

“I appreciate the concern, but at the moment my funds are tied up in…other ventures,” Mona replies. “I haven’t the mora to afford to Angel’s Share.”

Diluc continues to stare at her. He points around the corner.

“We aren’t that pricey. It’s almost empty in here,” he says, either ignoring her embarrassing but wonderfully worded proclamation or not caring, “We open at eleven but we don’t really get many people coming in until ‘round evening.”

And with that he retreats back into the Angel’s Share, leaving Mona to stare at the empty window.

Mona finds herself entering the bar. The cool, dim interior immediately makes her shoulders relax as she sighs in relief. She takes her hat off, holding it to her chest as she looks around. She’s been inside the Angel’s Share before. Usually with Kaeya or Lisa. And usually late into the night when the place is packed with people and the bards are deep into their craft.

Empty and quiet as it is, Mona almost doesn’t recognize the place. She feels a little like an interloper.

Diluc comes from around back, pulling his hair higher up and off of his neck to tie it back. Mona takes a seat at the bar, carefully setting her hat onto the free seat next to her.

“I thought the Angel’s Share doesn’t serve food,” Mona says as she watches Diluc prepare a glass. She’s certainly enough complaints from Kaeya about that very fact.

“Oh?” Diluc hums, “And where did you get that information from?”

“Kaeya,” Mona answers and then grimaces.

Diluc raises an eyebrow at her, “You shouldn’t listen to everything Kaeya says.”

He a tall glass of something blue and cold towards her. Her nose tickles with the smell of mint and her mouth waters a little at the sight of the perfectly golden berries.

“Serving food is relatively new. We’re testing it out for now,” Diluc admits, “During the Windblume festival this year we received many comments regarding the fact that we don’t serve anything to pair with our drinks, while the Cat’s Tail does. We listen to our customer’s feedback and try to address it when we can, especially when it can help us against our competitors.”

Mona sips the drink, toes curling in her boots as the cool, refreshing mint flavor spreads over her body.

“I didn’t realize the Angel’s Share had competitors.” Mona certainly knows that Margaret considers the Cat’s Tail to be a competitor to the Angel’s Share, but she didn’t think it was reciprocal.

Diluc shrugs his shoulders, slowly rolling his sleeves up. “Allergies?”

“Pardon?”

“Do you have any allergies?” Diluc asks.

“No, wait — “

But before Mona can stop him Diluc has already nodded and disappeared into the back room behind the bar. She can only guess that it’s the kitchen area.

Mona groans. She wonders if she can open a tab. She thinks she’s heard Kaeya or Lisa mentioning having a tab here before.

While Mona is mentally rearranging her finances to accommodate for this sudden and rather strange turn of events, Diluc comes out with what looks like a tower of meat. Mona’s eyes pop as he sets it front of her.

It smells amazing and Mona’s stomach agrees because it lets out another gurgle.

“Eat it slowly,” Diluc warns her.

“I — that’s a lot,” Mona says, but she can’t take her eyes off of it. So much meat! Mona already knows it’s going to taste divine, but she’s going to be feeling sluggish and sleepy for hours after. She’ll have to drag herself back to her little house and sleep it off. It’ll be her entire day. And possibly evening. “I — don’t suppose you serve salads.”

Diluc snorts out a laugh, shaking his head and turning away to wipe down another section of the bar.

“I thought as much,” Mona sighs. “I — I meant it when I said I don’t have the funds right now.”

She bites her lip. She’s loathe to use her hard earned skills as an astrologist for such material matters as this, but she’s also equally as reluctant to accept someone else’s pity.

“If you like I can forecast the harvest for you in exchange for your kindness, Master Diluc,” Mona says.

Diluc shakes his head again, “No need. Mondstadt is bountiful with stable seasons. I have no need of such a thing.”

Mona scowls. “A personal fortune, then?”

Diluc shoots her a dry look over his shoulder.

Mona squares her shoulders, crossing her own arms. “I insist on a fair exchange. I do not have mora with me, but I do have my skills as an astrologer. It would not do for me to accept such a kindness without returning it with something of my own.”

The man sighs, turning towards her, “Alright. What do you need to do your work?”

Mona hums, squinting at him. “What’s your constellation?”

“Noctua,” he replies.

Nothing new to be found there, then. Mona knows enough about Diluc Ragnvindr that Noctua isn’t much of a surprise. She doubts he’d be very interested in her telling him about the darkness before the dawn or a wealth of tragedy followed by a boon of grace.

She holds out her hand. “Palm.”

Diluc’s eyebrows raise as he holds his hand out to her.

Mona takes his palm in hers, narrowing her eyes as she examines the lines of his hand. She’s momentarily surprised by the callouses and scars on his hand. She’d expected a wealthy man such as himself to have finger hands — more well cared for. There are even faint traces of burns, a few she can see that splotch and dot Diluc’s pale arm.

Then again, he is a former knight. And he is still a formidable fighter. Mona doubts that Diluc has managed to maintain his figure by overseeing a bar and walking about vineyards while inspecting invoices all day.

Mona traces the air above his hand as she studies the grooves of his palm in the dim lighting of the bar.

“Air hands,” Mona mutters to herself. “With a sunken Apollo. Flat Venus. Imbalanced Mars with a fragmented heart line.”

She sighs, looking up at Diluc. “You need to focus more on the people who are still with you. It’s going to be painful and unpleasant, but that’s what needs to be done or you’ll face regrets for the rest of your days. And I mean more than whatever you already feel.”

She moves her hands away from Diluc’s. “Also you should just tell Kaeya that if he’s hungry you’ll feed him. Even if the Cat’s Tail somehow overtakes the Angel’s Share Kaeya’s still going to come here instead of there. You’ve already got what they don’t have.”

Diluc’s hand remains in place, held tense.

“And that is?” He asks, voice low and teetering between anger and something much more fragile.

Mona looks Diluc straight in the eye. This is her own sort of kindness. Diluc fed a starving astrologer with his own hands, so Mona will return his own sort of hunger with hers.

“A taste of home, Master Diluc,” Mona replies evenly. New to Mondstadt she may be, an unfamiliar with many of the people and the ways their lives have woven together and frayed apart, but there are some things that cannot be hidden from the stars and their reflections.

Brothers raised by the same hand in the same roof — regardless of blood shared — will have similar tells. And while Mona hasn’t spent very much time interacting with Diluc, she’s had plenty of time with Kaeya to spot the similarities.

Diluc’s breath leaves him as he closes his eyes, fingers curling into his palm as he pulls his hand back and turns away from her. Mona takes up her fork and knife, turning to face her own personal challenge of tucking away this tower of meat.

“Thank you,” he says after a moment.

“You are most welcome Master Diluc,” Mona says, “And if you’re taking suggestions for your new menu might I suggest something lighter than a tower of steaks?”

#heartsfic #genshin impact #c: future diluc tag #c: future mona tag

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houseisekai · 3 years

Text

House Isekai: Shadowbringers - Act 2 Finale: God Shattering Star

House Isekai Shadowbringers AU Masterlist Here

—

Time is running out for everyone in Fodlan and House Isekai. They must act now and destroy TWSITD and Rhea before their worlds merge. No matter what, they cannot stop. No matter who they lose on the way.

[Spiderweb - Fire Emblem: Three Houses OST]

Byleth swung open the door to the capital building, looking for Lahabrea.

(Edelgard) “Professor?”

(Claude) “Everything alri-?”

(Byleth) “Where is that son of a bitch, I want answers NOW.”

(Yuri) “You mean Lahabrea? Pretty sure he’s upstairs-”

Byleth stormed past them, leaving everyone confused.

(Dimitri) “Perhaps we should get everyone else to follow as well.”

They nodded and gathered their respective classes and the members of House Isekai.

Sitri and the School-Living Club members were the first to arrive, seeing Byleth in a nearby room to confront Lahabrea and Sothis.

(Lahabrea) “Is something the ma-”

(Byleth) “What the hell is going on with me and Sitri?! Why are we seeing other people’s memories?!”

(Lahabrea) “...”

Sitri stepped forward as well, pressing him further.

(Sitri) “And you never said why you brought me back. How am I important to any of this?”

The house leaders and representatives came into the room, seeing the interrogation happen.

(Lahabrea) “To the first question, the Zanado Tower is what’s making you remember.”

(Claude) “When we were inside it, we could hear and access past memories, ones we didn’t experience in this...timeline? I think...?”

Lahabrea nodded.

(Lahabrea) “Correct. Every single voice you’ve heard of yourself, it is a memory, something that happened before in a previous timeline before it was wiped out. As to why you and Sitri have access to House Isekai’s memories...is because of me.”

Lahabrea turned to face the House Isekai representatives, and only found eyes that viewed him as a stranger. Shaking his head, he continued his explanation.

(Lahabrea) “The voices you have been hearing, were times I spent with them. Each loop caused their memory to wipe, no matter what we did to prevent it. When Sothis and I reversed time ourselves, we must have caused some catastrophic damage that...well, made you.”

(Rean) “Are you calling Byleth a mistake?”

(Sothis) “Not a mistake. An accident. If things had gone to plan, we would be the ones in this situation instead of him. Though, it is a blessing that he does not have full access to what we’ve been through...”

(Lahabrea) “We’ve been experiencing the same memory flashes as well, and our guess is because the Tower is failing and merging all of our worlds together is how we’re able to see their memories. I don’t expect that to go away anytime soon.”

(Yu) “The Tower has already shown up in our world. How much time is left for the others?”

(Sothis) “We have no idea. That being the case, we should NOT allow it to merge any further, the Tower is barely holding itself together as it is. Who knows what will happen if it is allowed to continue.”

(Yuuri) “More importantly, some of our worlds should NEVER be allowed to merge...”

Yuuri stiffened while Doomguy looked around the room and shook his head.

(Kazuma) “Yeah, we’d be downright screwed if either of theirs merged with Fodlan. Hell, any of ours, really. So, what’s the plan on stopping it exactly?”

(Lahabrea) “Before we were attacked, I mentioned a plan to wipe out Those who Slither and the Church. Our reasoning is this-”

Lahabrea pulled out a crystal and tapped it, displaying a small light of two spheres that were side by side. He pointed at the sphere on the left.

(Lahabrea) “This sphere is the Tower. It represents what our past self did to cause the events happening now.”

He pointed at the second sphere.

(Sothis) “The second sphere is the timeline that should be separated, what should have happened without any intervention.”

The two spheres merged together.

(Lahabrea) “The two merging is what’s making us even have this conversation.”

(Sitri) “So...if we remove the first sphere, the second sphere will be fixed?”

(Sothis) “That’s our best guess, yes. If we kill Rhea, her angels should be at a complete loss. And if we kill Those Who Slither, than we can rest assured the Javelin of Liberation will not be activated.

(Dimitri) “I don’t believe we’ve seen that Javelin but...it sounds familiar.”

(Edelgard) “Indeed, and it wasn’t because of the message in the crystal.”

(Lahabrea) “Everyone excluding House Isekai has had experience with it...It’s what caused us to be here to begin with.”

(Kazuma) “So we’re dealing with a buncha nutjobs with a nuclear bomb, fuckin’ fantastic.-”

(Sothis) “-And as to why we brought Sitri back.”

Sothis turned to Yuri.

(Sothis) “You recall your time in Abyss with Byleth during the school year?”

(Yuri) “How could I forget? First time I had met them and House Isekai...Ah, I see. You’re referring to the incident with her body.”

(Sitri) “M-My what?”

(Ainz) “Long story short, Aelfric wanted to bring you back to life, while Rhea originally tried the method to bring Sothis back. That’s what we were able to gather.”

(Sitri) “I...remember somewhat Rhea mentioning that. I sacrificed myself to make sure Byleth survived. And Rhea always did treat me as one of her own...”

(Minako) “That’s how she treated Byleth too, until she realized he wouldn’t cooperate.”

(Akira) “We wanted to bring her to justice until, well, all of this happened.”

(Edelgard) “It was part of the reason why I wanted House Isekai to join us in the war. Though it seems what I did had been unnecessary...”

Byleth looked away from Edelgard. At the beginning of all this, he wanted her dead as much as Rhea. Now, he had no idea how to feel, having access to all of Lahabrea’s memories. Or, his memories. He didn’t really know which one was right, or if there was a right answer.

(Sothis) “The reason why we brought you back, is because you CAN channel this loop’s Sothis through you.”

(Byleth) “What?!”

(Sitri) “Is...Is that why I’ve been able to see the past memories too?”

They nodded.

(Lahabrea) “What I went through, Sothis was with me every step of the way. So what she remembers by being with Byleth, you remember. After all, she’s a part of us.”

(Yu) “So she’s still alive for us after all.”

(Sothis) “As I have said, though I am not seen, I am always with you.”

(Sitri) “But h-how will I be able to? What can I even do?”

(Lahabrea) “...We don’t honestly know, other than its possible. We just have you as a trump card to use against her, more than anything.”

(Edelgard) “That’s...reassuring.”

(Minako) “Not like we have a better plan.”

(Lahabrea) “Anyways, about stopping Rhea and Those Who Slither...That’s not going to be an easy task. They are both using technology they should not have access to, and you’ve seen how lethal angels and inquisitors are.”

(Minato) “And how fast the Agarthans converted the dead into that...thing.”

(Yuuri) “Both of them want each other dead, with us caught in the middle.”

(Sitri) “And we’re the only ones who can stop it.”

(Kazuma) “Not like we can exactly wait for them to kill each other and let them sort it out either...”

(Lahabrea) “Well, all we really need to do is kill the leaders and the rest should scramble...We hope.”

(Sothis) “In the past, killing the leaders effectively put the factions out of the picture. So that part is consistent every loop at least.”

(Rean) “Then, who do we go after first? We can have Valimar teleport us the-”

(Lahabrea) “No. Valimar takes too much energy, and we’re going to need him at full strength. I have an idea to have both of them show up at the same time.”

(Sothis) “But we will not depart unless everyone is ready. Once we go through with this plan, there’s no coming back.”

Everyone stiffened their backs.

[The King of Lions - Fire Emblem: Three Houses OST]

(Lahabrea) “We will be using the Tower to teleport and attack the Church head on. A massive energy spike from it will catch Those Who Slither’s attention and cause them to teleport to us. We will be dealing with a two front battle, and it will NOT be pretty.”

(Sothis) “Some of us may not be coming back alive.”

(Everyone) !!!

(Minato) “...”

(Minako) “...”

(Yuuri) “We can’t just teleport in front of Rhea?”

(Lahabrea) “Over the last 5 years, we have no idea what she’s done to herself, nor what it will do to Byleth. The angel blood is still infecting him after all.”

Everyone turned to Byleth.

(Byleth) “When’s it going to fully take over?”

(Sothis) “Our best guess is if the Tower collapses. What we did only stalled it anyways.”

(Dimitri) “So our only options are to wait around and die, or charge headfirst into danger.”

(Yuri) “...There have been worse ideas.”

(Claude) “So this is the point of no return, eh? Guess we better hurry, unless ya know, we wanna watch our world burn down in front of our eyes.”

(Rean) “Let’s get going. It’s time we end this.”

Everyone left the room, except for Lahabrea, Minato, and Minako.

(Minato) “...You’re really the Byleth we spent our time with in those memories?”

(Lahabrea) “...Yes.”

(Minako) “Then you must already know what happens to us.”

(Sothis) “We do.”

(Minato) “In that case...thanks for everything.”

That was the last thing he said before they walked out the door.

Lahabrea walked outside to the plaza and waited patiently for everyone to gather.

...

As Sitri walked down to the Infirmary to gather any medical supplies for the upcoming fight, she could hear a voice call out to her.

“Stop...!”

She quickly spun around to see if anyone was in the room, but there was nothing.

(Sitri) “Huh...?”

“Stop...them...!”

The voice sounded like a young female’s but...it wasn’t familiar to her.

Byleth came into the room and found Sitri looking confused, her head constantly shifting side to side.

(Byleth) “Are you okay?”

(Sitri) “O-Oh I’m fine. I thought I was hearing someone...”

“...”

[Return of the Night - Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers OST]

(Byleth) “This is the first time we’ve spoken in length, isn’t it?”

It had just dawned on Sitri. It was.

They didn’t say anything at first. They weren’t sure what to talk about.

The first time they could actually speak to each other as mother and son was right before they were going to march into death’s door.

(Sitri) “...I’m proud of you, Byleth.”

(Byleth) “For what?”

(Sitri) “For...For becoming the person you are. Jeralt raised you well.”

She smiled.

She was worried how Byleth was going to turn out when he had no emotions being born.

(Sitri) “Look at you. From what the others had told me, you went from a mercenary with a stone face to a beloved teacher loved by everyone. You’ve led and unified people from different worlds under your banner...And now you’re going to save everyone too.”

Byleth smiled. It nearly sent Sitri into tears. She ruffled his white hair and hugged him.

(Sitri) “I’m so sorry we couldn’t get more time together.”

(Byleth) “That’s not your fault, Si-...Mother.”

Mother. That was the first time Byleth had called her that. She had been waiting so long to hear herself called ‘Mother’ from her son. Not that she was ever expecting to anyway.

(Byleth) “Jeralt would’ve been so happy to see you again.”

He let go and clenched his sword.

(Byleth) “I can make him proud by finishing this at the very least.”

She shook her head.

(Sitri) “Nonsense. You’ve already made him proud, my son.”

The two smiled at each other before there was a knock on the door.

(Sara) “Hey, we’re ready to go.”

Byleth nodded and headed out first. Sara was about to follow before being stopped by Sitri.

(Sitri) “You’re...Sara, right? Sara Valestein?”

(Sara) “I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Eisner.”

Sara formed a smirk on her face as she held out a hand.

Sitri firmly shook it before bowing.

(Sitri) “Thank you for taking care of my son.”

(Sara) “Psh, being honest, he was keeping me in check most of the time during the academy. I was a whole mess for him and the other staff. Hah, him and Megumi would have to rope me in from strangling Sete-...”

It was then Sara realized she hadn’t seen Seteth or any of the other Church staff. Were they going to have to-

Sitri realized what was going through her head and put a hand on her shoulder.

(Sitri) “It...may be a bit strange coming from someone you barely know, but you’ll get through this.”

(Sara) “Hah...Thanks. Once this is over, remind me to get you a drink.”

Sara winked at Sitri before pulling out her pistol.

(Sara) “Now, let’s going.”

[Dangerous Words - FFXIV: Shadowbringers]

Sothis prepared a portal as the four houses and House Isekai all got their weapons out.

(Lahabrea) “This is the plan, we go in and strike as fast and hard as we can.

Ainz, Slayer, your groups will cause as much chaos as possible to distract the strongest members. We have no idea where we’ll be teleporting in.

Akira, you and the Phantom Thieves will scout out ahead for Rhea and try to estimate their fighting strength.

Class VII and the four houses will take care of the grunts as everyone advances, giving support to Nazarick and Slayer.

Yu, Minato, Minako, Kazuma, your teams will provide backup and scans when you get the chance.

Sitri, Yuuri, your groups will be helping any survivors, if there is any. If there aren’t, keep your head down and pick your targets carefully.”

Slayer nodded and brought out his pistol and gave it to Yuuri. Miki and Yuki got a bows from Alliance soldiers.

(Lahabrea) “Myself and Byleth will be taking on Rhea ourselves. We’ll no doubt be attracting the attention of the Agarthans, and they’ll teleport in when the moment is right. We cannot afford to let them take us off guard again.”

Everyone nodded. They understood their roles, but whether they were confident or not was an entirely different story.

The Persona Users looked determined but nervous. Some of the user’s legs were shaking.

Ainz nodded to his subjects and they all got on one knee and nodded.

Slayer pumped his shotgun and checked his ammunition.

Class VII activated their Arcus units and readied themselves to run in.

Sitri and the School-Living club members looked extremely nervous, but they refused to hesitate when lives were on the line.

The four houses had a mixed reaction of all the above.

(Sothis) “Opening the portal, get ready everyone, we have NO idea where we’re landing!”

Sothis’ hand gently waved over the air, slowly opening a massive portal, similar to Valimar’s spirit portal.

The ground around them shook ever so slightly, since it was using energy from the tower.

Doomguy and the denizens of Nazarick were the first ones to jump in...

...

Gates of Enbarr, Adrestian Empire territory...

Catherine finished cutting down the last of these glowing orange soldiers.

The last one she split apart exploded into light particles, just like all the rest.

They had been sieging this city for months now, but it seemed like they were finally breaking through to get to Edelgard.

She sighed as she sheathed Thunderbrand and looked to the skies. It was a bright white, and at this point she was sick of looking at it.

It made the area around them freezing, despite the fact buildings and debris directly next to her were on fire.

And the skies reminded her of...

She reached for her head. These flashes of voices were getting worse by the day. It was a mixture of her voice and...strangely enough, her fellow Inqusitors and the former students.

Just what the hell was it? Even Rhea didn’t seem immune from this, yet she refused to comment everytime it was brought up.

She heard footsteps behind her and saw several knights approach. Catherine frowned.

These weren’t the knights that she served with back then. They were “blessed” by some form of magic to turn them into “angels”. Part of her wondered if it was some cruel joke to call them that, since she had seen their true forms.

Not to mention her and the other Inquisitors had been given this “blessing”, though it seems they could at least control it.

Shamir, Seteth, Flayn, Cyril, and Alois were currently elsewhere, so it was just her for now.

Shaking her head, she motioned behind her.

(Catherine) “Clean up this mess. Lady Rhea and I are to make our way to the throne room.”

As if on cue, a brighter light shone behind Catherine, which she immediately dropped to one knee.

(Catherine) “Lady Rhea! We have been waiting for you-”

(Rhea) “Rise. For this day is a glorious one. We have finally broke this long siege, and will kill that girl for her insolence!”

Rhea was wearing some form of ritual combat armor, though it didn’t look to protect her that much. Not that it was an issue for her, however.

More of the orange glowing soldiers teleported in behind and tried to swing at Rhea, which she effortlessly blocked with her shield hand, turning around batting them all away as if they were flies.

They were shot into the wall, breaking through solid concrete and exploding into light particles.

(Rhea) “Hmph. Whatever these are, they have done well to defend Enbarr for this long. But now that we have arrived, they are destined to fail. Come, Catherine. Nothing stands in our way now.”

Catherine nodded and followed Rhea closely behind.

...

Several of the knights had finished the skirmish in the city plaza, killing off the last of the phantom soldiers.

One of the knights turned to the commanding officer and sheathed his sword.

(Knight) “Sir, this area is clear.”

(Knight-Captain) “Understood. Inform Lady Rhea-”

A portal interrupted the Knight-Captain as it formed behind him, making everyone unsheathe their swords.

(Knight) “What the hell?!”

(Knight-Captain) “INFORM LADY RHEA THE AREA IS NOT CLEAR, REPEAT NOT CL-”

The Knight-Captain’s torso exploded into bits and pieces as Doomguy emerged firing his shotgun.

Before any of the other Knights could respond, the entire squad was taken out by a mixture of lightning magic, knives, and sharp claws.

Ainz emerged behind Doomguy, followed by the rest of Nazarick, donning battle equipment.

(Cocytus) “SHALL WE MAKE A BET? I CAN KILL MORE OF THESE DISGUSTING CREATURES THAN YOU.”

Doomguy smirked and took out an assault rifle in response before noticing the Knight-Captain’s legs were twitching.

As he unloaded his rifle into the legs, the rest of House Isekai began teleporting in, immediately rushing to their roles.

Byleth and Lahabrea rushed to the Throne Room with the Phantom Thieves hopping on the rooftops above them.

As the Black Eagles rushed in, their clothes changed once more, similar to the Phantom Thieves.

(Edelgard) “Hm, I could get used to this outfit.”

(Bernadetta) “M-Mine looks embarrassing! It feels so light like I’m wearing nothing!”

(Caspar) “I’m a little jealous, you got nothing to restrict your movement, meanwhile I’m in such heavy freakin’ armor!”

(Linhardt) “...Come to think of it, did we ever get an explanation of how we could suddenly start-!!!”

Linhardt was cut off as he tripped over onto the floor, reaching for his head in pain.

(Dorothea) ?! “LIN-”

Dorothea was the second to follow, and eventually the rest of the Black Eagles fell to the ground.

S.E.E.S ran with the Blue Lions before they fell over as well. The same thing happened with the Golden Deer.

(Petra) “W-...What is?!-”

(Edelgard) “Goddess, my head! Why now?!”

...

(Minako) “Hey, what’s wrong?!”

(Minato) “Shit, not good, knights incoming!”

Squads of knights closed into their position before Valimar stepped in front of them.

(Rean’s voice) “We’ll take care of them, get moving towards the throne room!”

(Junpei) “What, but there’s too many of them!”

(Sharon) “Not to worry, we can fix that!”

Class VII moved into defend the Blue Lions, Minato and Minako nodding at each other.

They ran first, and the rest of S.E.E.S quickly followed.

...

Sitri, Yuuri, Kurumi, Miki, and Yuki ran through the streets and found the Golden Deer and Investigation Team engaged with the enemy.

Yuuri took aim with Doomguy’s pistol and pulled the trigger, the recoil almost hitting her in the face and scaring her.

The shot narrowly missed a knight which caused him to look over to their direction.

That distraction cost him his life as he was split in two by Yu’s Persona.

(Yu) “Thanks!”

(Hilda) “R-Really...hard to fight with this...damn headache!”

(Claude) “Ugh, it’s like the tower...only a thousand times worse!”

The Golden Deer toppled over in pain, trying to fight through the voices in their heads.

(Kurumi) “Come on!”

Kurumi ran into the fight with her shovel, going for the Knight’s legs while they were distracted fighting the Investigation Team. Eventually the rest of the group joined into the skirmish.

...

As Lahabrea and Byleth got through the streets unscathed, they heard Futaba’s voice.

(Futaba) “Oracle here, nothing detected on the way in! Heck, I think they’re expecting you two!”

(Lahabrea) “Any signs of soldiers fighting the Church?”

(Futaba) “...No, we’re the only ones here, aren’t we?”

(Byleth) “Lahabrea?”

(Lahabrea) “Understood. Keep your eyes peeled for the Agarthans, we’re moving in to engage Rhea.”

Lahabrea turned to Byleth.

(Sothis) “We use the Tower to spawn...let’s call them Phantoms to keep them occupied at Enbarr as we gathered House Isekai.”

(Byleth) “And what are the consequences?”

He didn’t answer, which made Byleth angry, but he had no time to press him further. They were right on the doorstep of the capital building.

Catherine and Rhea stood outside on top of the stairs, waiting for them.

Catherine saw them approach and drew out Thunderbrand.

(Rhea) “They’re mine.”

(Catherine) “L-Lady Rhea?”

(Rhea) “You will keep our guests occupied.”

She pointed to the right as Agarthans teleported near the stairs.

(Catherine) “...Understood.”

[Insanity - Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers OST]

Lahabrea and Byleth stopped at the bottom as Rhea walked towards them, dropping her sword and shield.

(Rhea) “You...!”

Rhea started glowing into a bright white as her voice grew deeper.

(Rhea) “I should have killed you when we first met, seeing how you turned out. Another DISAPPOINTMENT.”

The two unsheathed their swords, Sothis appearing behind them.

(Rhea) “M-Mother...?”

Sothis prepared spells in her hand, making Rhea’s eyes twitch.

(Rhea) “No...NO! THIS IS AN ILLUSION. HOW DARE YOU MAKE A MOCKERY OF MY MOTHER...!”

Her figure began growing into colossal size, wings sprouting from her back as her limbs grew longer and longer.

“I WILL TEAR YOUR HEART OUT!”

The Immaculate one leapt forward, roaring as the claws swung wildly trying to hit them.

Byleth and Lahabrea rolled out the way on opposite sides, narrowly dodging the attack.

While the two ran towards her, on the rooftops, more Agarthans teleported in.

(Agarthan) “Lord Thales, do we make our move?”

(Thales) “Not yet. Our enemies seem prepared for us this time. For now, we observe.”

The Immaculate One spun around and flew into the air, blasting fireballs from her mouth at the two.

Lahabrea activated the whip function of his sword and absorbed the attack as Sothis helped negate the attack with a magical barrier, while Byleth hopped into the air.

He swung at her wings, slice getting deep enough to make her fly unbalanced, and forced her to fight on the ground.

When the Immaculate One landed, Sothis fired Thoron from her hands, aimed directly at her head. Another fireball cancelled the attack out as it exploded into a dust cloud.

Using the dust cloud, Lahabrea charged in, deactivating the whip and moved to gouge out one of her eyes.

Digging her claws deep into the floor, the Immaculate One scraped across the floor and fired massive chunks of debris at Lahabrea.

Diving onto the floor, he managed to dodge in time, but left him open to attack.

Instead of going for the kill, the Immaculate One swung her claws to her left, catching Byleth’s sword in time and knocking him away.

(Immaculate One) “HERETICS! YOU WILL PAY FOR YOUR TREASON AGAINST THE CHURCH!”

(Lahabrea) “Rhea, listen to me, why are you doing this?!”

(Byleth) “The hell are you doing?-”

(Immaculate One) “SILENCE!”

Byleth swung his sword at her once more, which she stood perfectly still, her skin hardening before the impact came, making it bounce off.

Her jaw swung open and caught Byleth’s leg before he could run, slamming him to the wall of a nearby building.

Before being able to make the next move, Sothis teleported in front of her and casted several ice spells, all of which shot into her face.

Most of them bounced off, but one pierced through her nose, making her stagger backwards, and giving enough time for Lahabrea to get up and run over to Byleth.

(Lahabrea) “What are you doing lying around?!”

Thales and several Agarthans teleported in behind them readying a spell before Byleth sprung to life, both of them deactivating their whips.

(Byleth) “GOT YOU!”

Thales barely had time to react as he activated his barrier, blocking the whip.

His subordinates were not as fast, as the three that teleported with him were decapitated, their heads rolling onto the floor as their bodies collapsed into the debris pathetically.

(Thales) “Hmph, expecting my trick to work a third time was on me.”

He floated into the air and fired a spell at both Byleths and the Immaculate One.

Sothis tanked the spell by activating her barrier while it didn’t seem to affect the Immaculate One.

He tried to attack again before several bullets made their mark in his arm, before he could pull his shield up to block all of them.

(Akechi) “REMEMBER US, ASSHOLE?!”

(Kasumi) “This is for Jeralt, you bastard!”

(Akira) “OPEN FIRE!”

The Phantom Thieves unleashed a hail of gunfire, causing Thales to go on the defensive, and drew him away from Byleth and Lahabrea’s fight.

(Lahabrea) “Rhea! Stop this madness! You and the others have been seeing the memories too, haven’t you!”

The Immaculate One roared in response, gearing up for another attack.

(Byleth) “She’s too far gone to listen!”

(Lahabrea) “Is this the legacy you want to leave for Sothis, nothing but blood and destruction?!”

(Immaculate One) “DO NOT SPEAK TO ME OF WHAT SHE WANTS! YOU HUMANS WERE THE ONE WHO SPAT ON HER KINDNESS! WHO MURDERED HER IN COLD BLOOD!”

She jumped into the air and landed near them, sending debris flying towards their direction.

Lahabrea and Sothis cut and blasted them apart while Byleth slid underneath them to get closer.

The Immaculate One tried to attack Byleth, with Lahabrea seizing the opportunity and wounded her arm by cutting deep into it, with Sothis firing fire spells into the wound.

She roared in pain as she tried to harden her skin, leaving herself open again to Byleth.

He activated the whip function and took out one of her eyes by slicing across it, making her blind on her right side.

She opened her mouth and shot out fireballs wildly, hitting Byleth and Lahabrea.

(Sothis) “Tch, Byleth is right, we can’t reason with her! We have to-AGH!”

...

Thales kept taking hits, more than he was able to. The bullets in his arms weren’t doing him any favors.

Akira, Makoto, and Kasumi, Morgana, and Yusuke were relentless with their attacks, never giving him the chance to breathe.

Ryuji and Ann’s Persona forced him to expel more magic than he had to in order to combat them and block their attacks.

There were too many of them to keep track of, not to mention that one in the floating object giving tactical support.

(Thales) Wait a minute, there were ten of them, where are the other tw-

He wasn’t able to finish his thoughts as he felt something sharp hit his back and another bullet his his leg, making him fall over to the ground.

(Haru) “Nailed it!”

(Akechi) “Slippery little bastard.”

Everyone pointed their weapons at him, Akira doing the talking.

(Akira) “Surrender, it’s over!”

(Thales) “N-Never! IF I AM TO DIE, THEN YOU ALL WILL GO WITH ME!-”

Thales raised his hand and it glowed for a moment before Akechi shot him several times in the head.

(Akechi) “Shut the fuck up already!”

(Kasumi) “W-Wait, what did he-”

The white skies suddenly had a massive cloud of darkness appear above them.

(Ryuji) “Oh SHIT!”

The Immaculate One was about to make the killing blow before being driven to the floor by voices flooding her head.

Lahabrea and Byleth were forced onto the floor, and realized what was happening.

(Lahabrea) “No...NO!”

...

Everyone stopped fighting and saw the dark cloud begin to brighten up.

(Ainz) “What is that...?”

The three houses’ headaches grew worse as they saw the skies.

(Claude) “N-Not...good!”

(Dimitri) “Is...that?-”

(Edelgard) “Damn it all, THE JAVELIN!”

Doomguy was the first to respond, grabbing his most powerful weapon: the BFG-9000 and fired indiscriminately into the air.

(Rean) “I-Is attacking it even going to do anything?!”

(Yu) “Better than not trying anything at all!”

Yu sheathed his katana and crushed a tarot card, summoning Izanagi and fired several spells. The rest of the Persona Users and Denizens of Nazarick did the same.

(Sitri) “What can we-AGH!”

“STOP...!...THEM!”

That voice again. Who was-

(Emma) “Wait a second, was that Sothis?!”

(Kazuma) “You heard that too?!”

The voice was...Sothis? Why was she telling her to stop them, it’s not as if she needed that pointed out to her.

...Unless-

Sitri didn’t have time to think as she was driven to the ground.

(Minato) “...Hey sis.”

Minato calmly walked over to Minako.

(Minako) “Yeah, it’s time.”

She cracked her knuckles and threw away her Evoker. Minato did the same, catching Aigis’s attention.

(Aigis) “W-Wait what are you?-”

(Minato) “Don’t worry, you’ll remember.”

Thanatos formed behind them, roaring into the air as the skies began to grow into a blinding white light.

(Aigis) “WAIT, MINATO, MINAKO-”

S.E.E.S was about to move towards them before Thanatos blew them back into the ground.

(Rean) “Uh, what are they doing?!”

(Ainz) “They’re just summoning their Persona, now keep focusing and-”

(Kazuma) “HEY, INCOMING!”

The Javelin began to fly downwards, but Thanatos flew up and caught it, breaking apart and roaring in pain.

Minako and Minato were brought to their knees, their body parts slowly disappearing into light blue particles, just like Megumi.

(Yuuri) “What the- THEY’RE GOING TO GET KILLED!”

(Yu) “Wait, is this how they...?-”

(Aigis) “PLEASE, DON’T LEAVE US AGAIN-”

Both of them turned to her and smiled.

(Minato) “See ya around, Aigis.”

(Minako) “...Goodbye, everyone. It’s been fun.”

Thanatos roared a final time as it absorbed the blow, exploding into light particles.

Minako and Minato followed suit, and shattered before everyone’s eyes.

The three houses finally had the pressure released from their heads, and struggled to catch their breath.

Byleth, Lahabrea, and the Immaculate One were getting up, completely dazed.

Sothis teleported in front of the Immaculate One, arms outstretched.

(Immaculate One) “...M-Mother...Is...that you?”

The one eye had caused her vision to go blurry in combination with the voices finally stopping.

Sothis embraced her, caressing her head.

(Sothis) “...Sleep, my daughter.”

Bright lights formed in Sothis’s hand, Thorons firing from both palms, one hand impaling straight through the Immaculate One’s eyes, and another through her brain.

Her body fell completely limp, and the pale white skies vanished into night, the only light being from the fires in Enbarr.

The battle was over.

[Song End]

(Catherine) “LADY RHEA!”

She tried to advance further, but saw Knights collapse to the floor left and right, with Agarthans retreating upon seeing that Thales was dead.

Those voices in her head had completely stunned her, making her fighting capabilities reduce to almost none. If she stuck around any longer, she was going to get killed.

Swallowing her pride, she grabbed Thunderbrand and retreated.

Byleth and Lahabrea slowly got up, looking at each other.

(Byleth) “The...The voices stopped.”

(Lahabrea) “That they did...”

The rest of the group reunited where Lahabrea and Byleth were.

(Kazuma) “So...we won?”

(Sitri) “We did but...Minako and Minato.”

Everyone quickly realized that they were nowhere to be seen.

(Aigis) “...They’re gone.”

S.E.E.S looked down, not in the mood to celebrate their victory.

Many of them were reaching for their heads, their memories coming back in full force.

(Aigis) “They’ve been gone just...just like Megumi.”

(Rean) “What...?”

(Ainz) “...So their fates were sealed from the start.”

(Akira) “No...!”

Aigis turned to Yu.

(Aigis) “You all knew, didn’t you?”

The Investigation Team looked at each other, then back to S.E.E.S.

(Yu) “We...didn’t know how to bring it up. We had met you when you came to Inaba and...you told us of their passing.”

(Yuki) “Even more of us are gone...”

(Everyone) “...”

(Lahabrea) “What matters is that we all survived and-”

(Everyone) !!!

[Paradisaical Predicaments - Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers OST]

Everyone had to reach for their heads as the world began to shake violently.

Sothis’s voice was loud and clear for everyone.

“No, NO!”

(Kazuma) “The hell, there she is again!”

(Lahabrea) “Wait a second, Sothis?!”

(Yuri) “You mean THAT’s the goddess?”

(Sothis) “This loop’s Sothis right, what is she talking-”

She was interrupted as multiple people dropped to the floor. First was Class VII, then Ainz’s.

(Akira) “What the hell is happening now?!”

(Yu) “Wait a second, i-is it?!-”

(Ainz) “A...A tower?!”

Lahabrea and Sothis’ eyes went wide.

(Lahabrea) “It can’t be...”

====

Great Tomb of Nazarick...

(Guard) “A TOWER HAS EMERGED IN THE DISTANCE, EVERYONE, ASSUME COMBAT ROLES!”

Several skeletons and demons scattered around the area, preparing for an assault on the tomb.

Without Ainz and the Floor Guardians, this was going to be an extremely difficult battle for them.

Thor’s Military Academy, Branch Campus...

(Juna) “WHAT IN THE HELL IS THAT?!”

(Kurt) “A-A Tower?! Where did it even come from?!”

(Altina) “The materials do not match any known signatures we have in our world.”

(Ash) “Well, it oughtta be interesting at least.”

(Musse) “H-Has anyone seen Instructor Rean, I haven’t found him anywhere!”

====

(Kazuma) “I THOUGHT YOU FUCKING SAID KILLING THEM WOULD BE THE END OF THIS!”

(Sothis) “This can’t be right!”

(Lahabrea) “H-Hang on, I’m thinki-”

The skies suddenly turned back into a pale white, the temperatures dropping rapidly.

(Rean) “The Javelin didn’t hit, right?!”

(Ainz) “We’d be dead if it did!”

“Stop them...!”

(Sitri) “S-Sothis...?!”

“STOP THEM!”

PART 4: END

—

[Escape - Darling in the FranXX OST]

The forecasted rain wets us

What should I say to you, as you tremble? My soaked blazer is cold and heavy

I feel as helpless as a chick who’s left its cage. I felt that my dreams were on the other side of the heavy clouds

I digested only the sweet pain that spread in my chest

I wonder if it’d be better if I’d never met you

Hey, I can’t even see the stars

Hey, my tears won’t fall either

—

ACT 2: ENDED

#House Isekai Shadowbringers #House Isekai #byleth eisner #sothis #sitri eisner #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #Edelgard von Hresvelg #Yuri Leclerc #claude von riegan #Rean Schwarzer #minato arisato #minako arisato #ainz ooal gown #satou kazuma #akira kurusu #yu narukami #doomguy #yuki takeya

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thanatosangels · 4 years

Note

Congraaats on hitting your first milestone, Mae!! 💕 We just followed each other recently, so I'm hoping to know you better! 😊 For the asks: 👀 What's your favourite ship/character from TSC? and based on that choice, can I pls get a 🥰 on the ship/character you've chosen? I'd love to read it! Thank you! 🥺

OMFG THANK YOU SM!! You seem sooo sweet and i really want to get to know you too ahhh 💝💞💓 Also, i can’t apologise enough for how long this has taken - life got very busy and then i wrote it all but accidentally deleted it, so i’m really sorry!! <3 I hope you enjoy :))

👀 - I honestly can’t even pick one, but for the sake of writing purposes i’m gonna say Lucie and Cordelia’s friendship because i really want to write about them lol <33

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Jessie,” Lucie’s voice was hushed in the darkness of her kitchen.

Nothing.

“Jessamine,” She was shaking as she clutched the picnic basket between her hands.

Still nothing.

“Jessamine Lovelace.” There was more conviction this time, a feigned air of authority.

Jessamine materialised directly in front of her. “Lucie, darling, are you aware it’s three in the morning?” Jessamine’s bright eyes narrowed as she looked Lucie up and down, seeing her mud-caked boots, the hem of her dress sodden and heavy, the hastily assembled picnic in her hand. “Whatever seems to be the matter?” Her voice held more curiosity than concern.

Lucie gulped, her nervousness a palpable taste in her mouth. “I need you to take me somewhere, Jessie.”

Jessamine looked at her like she’d grown a second head. “I beg your pardon?”

A deep breath. “I need you to take me somewhere.” She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. Angel, I hope this works.

“Little Lucie, have you lost your mind? I wouldn’t blame you, living in all this ruckus.” Jessamine was slowly circling her, inspecting her. “Or have you suffered a grievous head injury that’s rendered you unable to remember that I am a ghost. Does this mean i have to rouse Will? You do know what he’s like when he doesn’t get his precious beauty sleep.” Lucie could feel the bright ghostly eyes on the back of her head. “Oh! Perhaps you’ve had a spell cast on you by a nasty warlock and i simply appear human to you now-“

Lucie felt her already frayed nerves snap. “Oh, do shut up Jessamine! Listen to me for a moment.”

A small, shimmering hand was brought to a translucent chest, an offended look on her pale, pretty face, but she did not continue her rambling.

Lucie shut her eyes for a moment. She had been in the gardens of Chiswick Manor, her breath forming a mist in the crisp evening air that mingled with the dark-grey clouds overhead, Grace by her side. They had been trudging over the damp lawn towards their usual meeting place, the dilapidated house looming over them, broken windows like unblinking eyes, when Lucie had stopped short. Dread trickled down her body from her head to her feet like a bucket of ice water poured over her head, realisation dawning and anxiety gnawing. Cordelia! She had been meant to see her that afternoon, to go for a walk in the park and show her the latest chapter of the Beautiful Cordelia, but she had been so distracted by smuggling yet another book of dark magic from the restricted section that she had, simply, forgotten. She hadn’t seen Cordelia in almost two weeks now, and guilt rose like bile in her throat.

So, after Grace and Lucie had finished, she had rushed home and immediately packed a picnic of leftover strawberry and lemon tarts, ginger beer and lemonade, cake and cucumber sandwiches. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best she could do. Now she stood in her kitchen, face to face with her ghostly Aunt, about to do the unthinkable.

Lucie squared her shoulders, took another deep breath and whispered an “I’m sorry.” almost under her breath, and held her hand out in front of herself.

One of Jessamines delicate eyebrows arched up. “What are you doing?”

“Jessamine Lovelace, I command you to take me to Cordelia Carstairs.” Lucie put all the force she could muster, all the confidence she did not feel, into her voice.

“What?” Was all Jessamine said, an alarmed look on her face.

“I command you to take me to Cordelia Carstairs,” Lucie lowered her hand as she walked towards the ghost. “And i bound you to secrecy about my powers.”

Lucie stopped barley inches from Jessamine. They were almost the same height, Jessie just slightly taller. Lucie set her jaw, her pale blue eyes fixed on Jessamine’s shining brown eyes, her mouth in a hard line. She reached a hand up, to place it on Jessamine’s shoulder, desperately trying to still the tremor of her nerves…

And felt Jessamine, cold but solid, under her palm.

Lucie heard her suck in a small breath, bright eyes wide with shock, her mouth agape. “How….” She breathed.

Despite herself, despite the fact that this was only half the battle, a small smile played on Lucie’s lips. Hope burned in her chest, a warm feeling that fought the cold of the dead biting at her fingers.

She felt that same cold wash over her whole body as Jessamine’s arms encircled her.

“Take me.”

And she did.

___________________

There was simply darkness, and then light.

Lucie found herself in the small, neat courtyard at the back of Cordelia’s home. Power thrummed through her veins and she felt almost drunk on the giddiness of it. Oh, what fun!

Jessamine nowhere to be seen. Lucie hoped she was alright.

She looked up, towards the window of Cordelia’s bedroom. At least, she thought it was Cordelia’s bedroom. Guilt sobered her as she realised how little time she’d spent here these past few months. Surely you should know your best friend’s - your parabatai’s - whole life inside out?

“Cordelia!” Lucie whisper-shouted, though she wasn’t even sure why she tried. Obviously Cordelia was not going to hear her from all the way up there. She looked around frantically, searching for something, anything, that she could throw at the window and alert Cordelia of her presence. She thought about the small throwing ax attached to her thigh, hidden under her skirts, but quickly decided that it was a horrendous idea.

Finally, she found a suitable pebble. She placed down her basket and took a few steps back, almost falling over a stone bench next to some flower beds. She steadied herself, measured the throw, pulled her arm back and let the pebble fly.

It was a direct hit. Despite herself, Lucie was proud.

Lucie shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her hands worrying each other in front of her. The ten or so seconds between the throw and the curtains drawing back felt like an hour to her. Then, Lucie saw Cordelia’s face through the darkness, lit by a candle she held in her hand, and relief washed over her.

She had been awfully panicked about accidentally waking Alastiar instead.

Then, the window was open and Cordelia stuck her head out of it. “Lucie? Is that you?” Her voice was hushed. “Are you okay? Has something happened?” Her words were spilling over each other.

“No! Nothing’s happened, Daisy, I am perfectly fine…” She trailed off, unsure how to start.

“Oh, well then. How kind of you to actually show up.” Cordelia’s voice was cold now, but Lucie heard the twinge of hurt in it and it made her heart ache. Cordelia moved to shut the window.

“Wait!” Lucie shouted, desperation creeping into her voice.

Cordelia’s head popped back out again, her dark hair falling about her like Rapunzel in her tower. “Yes?”

“Cordelia, Daisy, I am so very, very sorry.” She spoke very, very quickly. “I know I have not been as good a friend as I should these past months, and I know an apology alone cannot fix that. I am going to be better, though. You are so amazing, Daisy, and you deserve only the best of everything in this life. I cannot promise to be perfect, which is what you truly deserve, but i can promise to be better and do my best. I love you, more than anything else on this earth, Cordelia and I hope you never forget that.” She paused, breathing like she’d been running, and Cordelia opened her mouth as if to say something but Lucie held her hand up to quiet her. She dashed over to the picnic basket she’d left lying and lifted it up so Cordelia could see. “I brought us some midnight - well, 3 o’clock - snacks, if you would like?”

For a moment, Cordelia said nothing. Lucie’s heart fluttered in her chest like a hummingbird in a cage. Then, a wide smile lit up Cordelia’s whole face. “Oh, Lucie, you goose! I wasn’t that annoyed, simply peeved! Of course I will come down and have a picnic with you, darling, just give me a moment to get dressed.” She disappeared into the darkness behind her and shut the window.

Lucie felt herself grin uncontrollably as relief crashed over her like a tidal wave, making her knees so weak that she plopped herself down on the stone bench that had nearly upended her before.

It was the first time she had smiled like that for a long while.

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dontcare77ghj · 4 years

Text

Only Human

Sam x reader x Steve x Bucky

The Avengers had seen a lot of weird things. Aliens, Tony committing to a monogamous relationship, Gods and a lot more, but the weirdest thing they’d seen yet was Sam dating you, Bucky and Steve.

It wasn’t weird because of how many were in the relationship it was because of the species difference between the three of you. In your relationship, Sam was the only human. He liked to say he was the only normal one but he really was the only human in your relationship.

To be fair, Steve and Bucky had once been human but you had never been human. You were born several centuries ago and had been born a phoenix. When you were 564 you met Steve and Bucky. They had been turned into vampires about six centuries ago and the three of you were excited to meet more immortals.

For a hundred years the three of you travelled and lived together. The three of you knew everything about each other and couldn’t imagine being happier than you were with each other.

That was until you met Howard Stark. He was the first person, other than each other, you’d admitted your true nature’s to. The four of you became close friends and stayed that way even after he met his wife and eventually had a son. You and the boys became the godparents to the young Stark and looked out for him, especially when Hydra murdered his parents.

It was a few years after Tony became Iron Man and the four of joined Fury’s Super-Secret Boy Band, when you met your fourth. Sam Wilson had joined a couple years after the New York incident and a few months after meeting the four of you went on your first date.

Two years later the four of you were still happily together. The only problem between the four of you was when it was made clear three of you weren’t human and freaked the one human out.

It had been a long week. You, Sam and Tony had all been forced into a weeklong mission and had only been allowed one call home three days in. It had been a grueling week and the three of you couldn’t wait to get back home.

“You know what I’m in the need of right now?” Sam asked as the three of you sat on the jet.

“A shower.” Tony said, not looking up from his tablet. Reaching over you smacked Tony on the arm. “Ow.” He complained, looking up and rubbing his arm.

“Don’t be rude.” You said, raising an eyebrow at him as if daring him to say anything else.

“Thank you, angel.” Sam said, leaning over and kissing you. “What I was going to say before Tony was so rude, was I could for a stiff drink."

“See that,” Tony started, snapping his fingers. “Is why you’re my favorite of your little foursome.” He added with a smirk.

“Rude. I helped raise you Stark.” You grumbled, narrowing your eyes at him.

“That’s because you’re ancient.” Tony said, earning himself another whack from you. “What’s with all this violence?”

“You’re a rude bastard.” Sam said simply as you moved over to Sam and sat on his lap. “Don’t you know you’re never supposed to bring up a ladies age? Besides, my girl is eternally gorgeous.” He added, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

“You’re so sweet, Sammie. Tony maybe you should listen to Sam more, you might learn a thing or two on how to treat a lady.” You said, kissing Sam’s cheek. Tony opened his mouth to respond but didn’t get the chance as the automated voice announced you had arrived back at base.

“Oh thank Thor.” You groaned, standing so Sam could. “I want to sleep for a century.” You said as Sam wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Wait, can you actually do that?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow at you. “Have you ever actually slept for a century?”

“No, I’ve never slept for a century, honey.” You said with a gentle smile. “Bucky slept for six months after his arm but the best I’ve done is a week."

“Everyone can black out for a week.” Tony said, coming up behind the two of you. “It’s not that hard.” You and Sam rolled your eyes at the man as you entered the elevator and made your way up to your floor.

“Steve? Buck? Guess who’s back.” Sam said as you entered the floor. “Anybody home?” He asked, and dropping his bag by the door as you stripped of your boots.

“We’re here.” Steve said, walking towards you two with a large grin. “Welcome home.” He greeted, pulling Sam into a hug, kissing him, and then repeating the actions with you.

“It’s good to be home.” You murmured, relaxing in his grip. “Is that blood on your lips?” You asked after he kissed you.

“A little.” He said, flushing slightly. “Me and Buck got hungry.” He told you both as he led the pair of you into the kitchen.

“Are you telling me I just tasted blood?” Sam questioned, looking slightly disgusted. “I need to brush my teeth.” He groaned.

“Why do you need to brush your teeth?” Bucky asked, turning away from the sink. Sam turned pale at the sight of your boyfriend and you scrunched your nose at him.

“You’re nearly a thousand years old, Buck, how are you still as messy as a newborn?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow at the brunette.

Bucky turned sheepish as you mentioned his feeding habits. It was true that Bucky was a messy feeder, he always had been, and it was true that his current appearance supported your statement. Blood drenched the lower half of Bucky’s face and the top of his shirt, his fingers also covered in the red substance.

“Blood’s a messy substance.” He said, wiping his face with his sleeve. “Still tastes good.”

“Guys what’s rule about blood?” Sam groaned, turning his face away from Bucky. “No blood around the humans.” He said without waiting for an answer.

“Sorry, Sam. I forgot how squeamish you are.” Bucky chuckled, turning away from him.

“I’m not squeamish, it’s just you don’t normally see people covered in blood with fangs protruding from their mouths.” Sam said as you moved over to Bucky and kissed him.

“This is nothing. We’ve fucked with the two of them covered in blood and me in ash.” You told the bird. “Now, Buck why don’t you go clean up and we’ll make some food?”

“Sounds good.” Bucky said, kissing you before moving to the bathroom. Sam sat at the island and turned to face the two of you.

“You do know I’m not kissing either of you until you brush your teeth, right?”

You were a very forgetful person. Had been for 900 years. Steve and Bucky used to joke it was as if you burnt a tiny bit of your brain away when you died but they’d stopped when they saw how worried the thought made you.

You forgot simple things like the day, the month, important events and other small things that many others could forget. But sometimes, sometimes you forgot very important things like burning days.

Sometimes when you were stressed or were experiencing a lot of inner turmoil your shift would be late. When your shift was late you barely ever noticed. If you couldn’t remember the date, why would you notice your shift was late?

It had been a regular day when it happened. All your boys were busy and doing things out of the tower and you had woken up late that day. You were in the shower when it began.

The pain was immense and it came on faster than you could comprehend. One minute you’re washing your hair the next your entire body was alight and you fell to the tiled floor, dead.

Non-Reader POV

Steve and Sam had left early to go for a run. They'd spent hours running their regular course and it was only the 7th lap, well Sam's 7th anyway, they'd decided to head back to the tower.

"I see I've finished just in time." Bucky said as he met the two in the elevator. He embraced the two in a way of greeting and then leaned against the wall. "Let me guess laps?"

"Yeah. Remind me why I agree to run with a vampire?" Sam puffed, sitting on the floor.

"Because you love me." Steve said teasing the human man. "What have you been doing all morning?" Steve asked Bucky.

"Training with Nat. I swear she might as well be a vampire, the woman wakes up at the crack of dawn." Bucky told the two.

"I wonder if she'd think of that as a compliment or not." Sam mused as the elevator door opened.

"Y/N's awake." Steve announced as they entered their floor. "The shower's running." He added.

"I could go for a shower." Sam said with a grin and walked in the direction of the bathroom. Steve and Bucky shared a smirk and followed their boyfriend in the direction of their girlfriend.

The door to the bathroom was open, steam trickling into the bedroom, and Sam led the three of them into the room.

"Doll. We're back." Steve announced as they entered the tiled room. Sam pulled back the curtain and was momentarily confused to not see his girlfriend standing in front of him.

It was only when Bucky let out a startled noise that Sam looked down and saw his girlfriend. Blood stained the floor, though he could see no wound, ash and charged skin clung to her.

"Shit." Bucky exclaimed, reaching around Sam to turn the shower off. Kicking himself into action, Sam leaned down and grabbed Y/N's still from off the floor.

Steve grabbed a towel and began to clean off the burnt skin and charred remainders.

"Fuck! Is she dead? Where's the blood coming from?" Sam asked, trying to find a wound.

"Sammie, breath." Bucky said sternly. "This happens every month. The bloods probably from a wound that happened when she fell that's already healed. You need to calm down, you know she dies every month."

"Yeah at the start of the month not near the end." Sam says before beginning to control his breathing. "I'm good. I'm cool." He said after a couple seconds.

"Sam's right." Steve said, cleaning the woman's face of ash. "Y/N always burns at the start of the month."

"Not always." Bucky disagreed. "When she's stressed it gets delayed." He reminded the blonde. Steve nodded at his words and then stood.

"Alright then, let's bring her to the bedroom, get her dressed and wait for her to wake up." He said. Sam scooped the unconscious woman up and placed her on the bed. Bucky dressed Y/N in a pair of his boxers and one of Steve's shirts before laying down in bed with her.

When Y/N awoke it was to Sam and Bucky arguing over something or other. When the three men noticed she was awake Sam immediately began lecturing her, to her amusement as well as Steve and Bucky's.

"You three are going to make my hair grey." Sam complained, flopping on the bed.

Reader POV

Ever since Tony was young, he'd found it amusing that the big, tough, vampire Steve could be weakened by a pencil.

Of course he knew a stake would do a better job but when he was younger, all he had were pencils at his disposal and he thoroughly enjoyed stabbing lightly into Steve.

The first time he'd ever done it, you and Bucky panicked until you realized it was none lethal and simply a suing to watch Steve complain about a child and his pencils.

As you all aged, Tony could get his hands on real stakes but simply found more amusing to stick a pencil into Steve's hand. Over time you and Bucky didn't get panicked ta the sight and simply smiled at your partner and godson.

When Sam entered your relationship, well he hadn't ever seen it before and was rightfully terrified at the sight. If it were any other person freaking out as he had, the three of you would've laughed your assets off, but it was Sam.

Your Sam, who thought one of his partners was going to die. The three of you had to sit him down and thoroughly explain that it was just something Tony did when he was bored and that it wouldn't kill Steve.

Over time, he'd calmed down at the sight but still panicked slightly when he saw it.

The entirety of the team was sitting in the main common room. No one was really doing anything, mainly just doing trivial things to pass the time and no one was really paying attention to each other. Until,

"Ow, Tony will you quit it?" Steve demanded. You lifted your head from Bucky's shoulder and gasped at sight of seven pencils stuck in Steve's arm.

"Tony what the fuck?" You groaned, rolling your eyes at the Stark.

"Why do you have seven pencils on you?" Bucky asked as if it were the most important thing in this scenario.

"Jesus Christ, Tony. Get those out of him before it actually kills him." Sam gasped, eyes growing wide at the sight.

"He's not dying." Tony said with a pout. "Besides I'm bored."

"Stick a knife in a dummy then." Clint suggested, looking at Steve and Tony weirdly.

"Or one in Steve. Don't want to accidentally kill the man." Natasha added with a small smile.

"Anyway," Sam said, giving Natasha a look. "Take them out of his arm now." Sam said firmly, narrowing his at Tony.

"Yes Sam." Tony muttered, pouting as he pulled pencils out of Steve's arm. "You're meaner than these three sometimes."

"That's because I am sensible unlike these three. I swear you're going to give me a heart attack one day." Sam said, giving the three of you a look.

You and Bucky shared a smirk as you both leaned over to kiss his cheeks.

"You love us, Sammie." You said as Sam's cheeks darkened.

"Yeah. Yeah I do." He admitted, throwing his arms around yours and Bucky's shoulders. Steve eventually moved closer and joined hands with Sam.

Though Sam was the only human in your little quad, and the three of you were going to turn his hair grey or give him a heart attack, the four of you were happy together. It didn't matter the species difference.

Taglist

@piper-koko-barnes-rogers @skeletoresinthebasement @hopingforbarnes @agent-barnes40 @rvgrsbrns @smilexcaptainx

Show your support. Give it a like. Leave a comment. Share with your friends and reblog. Inbox/Message me any comments, ideas, pairings, if you would like to be added to a tag list or whatever you like.

Coming soon:

Natasha x reader x Sam x Steve x Bucky

Steve x reader x Thor

Pepper x reader x Tony

Natasha x reader x Peggy x Wanda

Bruce x reader x Thor

Bucky x reader x Steve x Peggy

Wanda x reader x Natasha

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alectology-archive · 4 years

Text

SJ/M’s unacceptable and lazy usages of real world places/cultures

I’m aiming to make this the most comprehensive list of SJ/M stealing bits and pieces of world history and pretending like she came up with them. Feel free to comment down below or send an ask if you can think of anything.

The addition of adaptation of names from some real-world places is included either because of insensitivity (Hybern and Prythian) or mostly because SJ/M doesn’t try to represent any of the cultures she takes from.

Note that this post will keep getting updated as I discover more evidences of unacceptable usages of cultures. Also note that there is every possibility that some resemblances are purely accidental and/or unintentional. So take it with a grain of salt.

T/HRONE OF GLASS

- Most of the cultural activities mentioned in Tower of Dawn are rip-offs of Mongolian culture and seem to resemble the Dothraki from Game of Thrones very closely.

- Pagan holidays mentioned in the books:

Yulemas* is celebrated in Erilea despite there already existing an established religion consisting of 12 gods and goddesses.

Samhain* is a festival celebrated by Irish and Scottish people.

Beltane* is a festival celebrated historically in Ireland and Scotland.

- Nehemia is probably derived from the Jewish leader Nehemiah who helped rebuild Jerusalem. Instead of trying to work that into Nehemia’s narrative, SJ/M killed off Nehemia to serve a white woman’s narrative.

- Mycenae is a historical site in Greece.

- Illium is an actual Greek city as well.

- Ravi in KoA is named after a Hindi word which means “sun”.

- Strangely enough Ravi’s brother is named Sol after the Roman god of the sun.

- Suria, where Ravi is from, is also a synonym for sun in Hindi.

- Mab is from the story of “Queen Mab”.

- Maeve is a sexual goddess in Irish mythology who was actually raped. So making Maeve a rapist in the books was hurtful.

A/COTAR

- Nagas belong to Hindu/Indian mythology included in a book that’s clearly a very western fantasy and has little to no PoC representation.

- Illyrians were an actual indo-european tribe with close relations to modern day Albanians. S/JM is not the first person to feature them in her work but other authors have used versions of the name like “Illyria” by Shakespeare, “Ilirea” by Paolini, “Valyria” by GRRM etc. which are acceptable.

- Calan Mai is actually a celebration of spring in Welsh culture. As @gemorsedd put it so eloquently, SJ/M turned it into a festival about Tamlin being unable to control his hormones.

- Hybern is derived from the classic latin name of Ireland which is “Hibernia”.

- Prythian is a modified version of the ancient name of Britain “Prydain”. COINCIDENTALLY, Prythian VERY closely resembles the UK. It’s also possible that she plagiarised the name from Anne Bishop’s Daughter of Blood.

Note for further reading: Read @blakeseptember’s about why SJ/M was especially insensitive in including Prythia and Hybern in the ways she did: https://blakeseptember.tumblr.com/post/187088853587/hybern-as-ireland

- Bharat is actually the Hindi name for India which is mentioned in ACO/TAR. Not only is it mentioned that Feyre’s father was sailing to Bharat to trade in cloth and spices (which was exactly what British colonialists and traders did when they sailed to India), it’s also said, quite clearly, that Feyre’s mother died of Typhus while her cousin died of Malaria (IN BHARAT). By doing so SJ/M is blatantly promoting a very colonialist view of India.

The Malaria mention: “My mind was void, a blank mess of uselessness. Could it be some sort of disease? My mother had died of typhus and her cousin had died of malaria after going to Bharat. But none of those symptoms seemed to match a riddle. Was it a person?”

The Trade of cloth and spices: “I swallowed. ‘Eight years ago he amassed our wealth on three ships to sail to Bharat for invaluable spices and cloth.’”

- Myrmidons feature in A/COWAR. The Myrmidons is actually a nation from Ancient Greek mythology (led by Achilles in the siege of Troy).

- Harem pants which are worn in parts of South and Middle-east Asia feature in the books where they’re introduced into a court consisting of white people only.

- F/eyre’s floral tattoos are very reminiscent of mehendis which are very important to Indian, Arabic and North African cultures but it’s a trait given to a white woman here. Read this post.

C/RESCENT CITY

- Danaan is from Tuatha de Danaan (celtic mythology) / Danaans is another name for Greece in the Iliad, used interchangeably with “Argives” and “Achaeans”.

- Avallen is Avalon (the legend of King Arthur). Ruhn’s story also bears a very close resemblance to the legend.

- 6 point star = Star of David

- Lehabah = a word in Hebrew meaning "a flame" (להבה)

- Mount Hermon = an actual mountain place in the northern part of Israel. In Hebrew: הר החרמון.

- SPQM’s full form is Senatus Populusque Midgard. Which is awfully close to the SPQR of the ancient Roman empire which is Senatus Populusque Romanus

- The river Tiber mentioned in CC is actually a Roman river.

- Midgard, in Norse mythology, is the home of mankind. In Norse mythology.

- Sandriel: Comes from the angel Sadriel, the angel of order. S/JM added an “n.”

- Orion “Hunt” A/thalar: First name is pretty obvious, Orion as in the hunter which is where his name “Hunt” comes from. Probably from the god Attar called Athtar in Southern Arabia. Attar is sometimes considered a storm god explaining his lightning powers, but also linked to the Morningstar aka Lucifer. No explanations are given regarding as to how the constellations of our world are the same as that of SJ/M’s fantasy AU.

- Shahar Daystar: From the dawn deity Shahar. Also linked to Lucifer.

- Jesiba Roga: A Croatian respelling of Baba Yaga. Jesiba Roga, is quite literally just a combination of Ježibaba (a figure closely related to Baba Yaga in West Slavic folklore) and Baba Roga (the Croatian version of of Baba Yaga).

- Danika Fendyr: Danika is a Slavic dawn deity. Fendyr comes from Fenrir a wolf in Norse mythology.

- Isaiah: Taken from Isaiah 14:12-15 which details the fall of Lucifer. It’s also easily accessible from Shahar’s Wikipedia page (which may imply that SJ/M uses Wikipedia for research and just steals/lazily incorporates whatever she finds along the way.)

12 “How you are fallen from heaven,

O [a]Lucifer, son of the morning!

How you are cut down to the ground,

You who weakened the nations!

13 For you have said in your heart:

‘I will ascend into heaven,

I will exalt my throne above the stars of God;

I will also sit on the mount of the congregation

On the farthest sides of the north;

14 I will ascend above the heights of the clouds,

I will be like the Most High.’

15 Yet you shall be brought down to Sheol,

To the [b]lowest depths of the Pit.

- Fury Axtar: Hunt is likely related to Attar or maybe even Ishtar or Ashtaroth. It’s unclear right now. Ishtar is sometimes linked to Lucifer as well. It’s possible that she’s named after the Furies in Greek mythology, deities of vengeance.

- Micah Domitus: Micah is a prophet in Judaism.

- Syrinx: A chimera in this book, a nymph known for her devotion to Artemis.

- Urd: The god of flame and shadow possibly the name comes from Urðr one of the three Norns in Norse mythology.

- Luna: A Roman moon goddess

- Cthona: “Chthonic”, in English, describes deities or spirits of the underworld, especially in Ancient Greek religion.

- Vanir: The Vanir are actually group of Norse gods.

- Asphodel Meadows: A section of the ancient Greek underworld where ordinary souls were sent to live after death.

- Hel: Hel is a goddess but also a location in Norse Mythology for the dead. Depictions of Hel depend on the source of the information. It’s strange that Hel and Asphodel Meadows belong in the same place, translating to lazy world building on SJ/M’s part.

- Midgard: In Norse Mythology basically the plane of existence of humans.

- Laconic Mountains: Named after Laconia the administrative capital of Sparta.

- Nidaros: Where Bryce grew up. It’s the ancient name of Norway’s capital when the Christian kings ruled. It’s now called Trondheim.

- Istros River: Taken from Istros of Ancient Greece

- Valbara: Taken from the super continent Vaalbara

- Pangera: probably Pangea, the huge supercontinent on which dinosaurs lived

- Crown of Thorns: In reality it’s a symbol of Jesus but in the book it’s branded onto the foreheads of angels who rebelled in a war some decades ago.

- Keres: Phillip Briggs’s terrorist gang is named after the Keres who are “goddesses who personified violent death and who were drawn to bloody deaths on battle fields.”

- Sailing: A Norse funeral custom for Vikings as seen in movies like How To Train Your Dragon 2 and Thor: The Dark World. Here’s more information on it, but it seems SJ/M got it wrong. Most Vikings were usually cremated and it was mostly used for Kings and Chieftains (Danika might fall into the Chieftain category).

- 33rd Imperial Legion: Could be a reference again to Jesus who was 33 at his death.

- The Ophian rebels (of which the the Keres rebels are a subgroup of) are named after Ophian, and elder Titan in Greek mythology.

Sources I’ve derived some facts from so far:

- Sapir Englard on Goodreads via @spaceshipkat’s tumblr post using Hebrew in CCity.

- @bittenwrath for basically everything in crescent city.

- @blakeseptember’s tumblr about Hybern’s origins.

- An anon dropped by with “Hel”

- @chenmighty and @tavithelibrarian pointed out the Illyrians.

- @sylphene and @omourningstar for Prydain

- @ok-boomer pointed out that Yulemas, Samhain and Beltain are all pagan holidays.

- @gemorsedd For pointing out Calan Mai

- An anon pointed out the Norns, Danaan and Avalon.

- @mimiofthemalfoys for the Bharat, malaria, typhus, spices and cloth mention.

- @kryingkardashianz for Danaans being another name of Greece and Myrmidions.

- an anon pointed out Nidaros

- @shurislut for mehendi and harem pants

- @sanktaalinaa for Jesiba Roga

- @croissantcitysucks for the Ophian Rebels

#anti sjm #anti tog #anti throne of glass #anti ccity #anti acotar #anti sarah j maas #compilation

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fireteam-dauntless · 4 years

Text

A Tale of Two Guardians XXXII

Part I of the Destined Series Chapter 32 : Free Will

word count : 2.4K masterlist | tag list : @mail-me-a-snail @basically-nacl @galagd @speed-boop @lady-efriyeet

Death was like a glimpse of freedom. His voice echoed in my head, telling me to rise, telling me to finish it. I didn’t heed his calls. Solar energy surged through me, replacing my frozen blood with warmth. I rose up from the ground, once again in control of my own will. I turned around and saw the shadow of Oryx in the mist.

“Vous ne me casseras pas!”* I screamed at him.

I already have.

The moment he came through the mist, sword ready to strike us down, I threw every single fusion grenade I had in my arsenal at him. Skinner and Maverick unloaded their rockets into him. I picked up the knife that I used to stab myself with, ran up to him and jumped up, driving the knife through his chest. I didn’t let go, I kept driving it deeper, and deeper, until almost the entire hilt of the blade was buried in his chest. The blight around us disappeared and Oryx knocked me back and into one of the rocks. My entire body jolted with pain and my vision became hazy.

I saw Oryx stumbling, like he was seriously injured. Skinner and Maverick stood between me and him, weapons ready. But Oryx… Oryx only reached for his sword and extracted a ball of Taken energy from it, held it in the air like a sacrifice, then slammed it into his chest. His physical body started to decay and fade, but then he looked past Skinner and Maverick, directly at me. He laughed, then disappeared into nothing.

I couldn’t help but to start laughing, even though I could barely move my muscles. “I won… I won…”

Maverick ran over to me, but my vision was blurry and I could barely keep my eyes open. He lifted my upper body into his arms and his hand pushed through my hair and pressed my head into his chest. I couldn’t hold back my tears and I started to break down.

“I know you,” I murmured quietly. “I know you…”

“Shh… shh… It’s okay…”

“He broke me…” I cried. “I… I couldn’t stop it… I tried, I tried so hard to fight…” Maverick tried to quiet me and calm me down, but I had to tell them. “He brought me… he brought me your mark…” I reached a shaking hand and pulled it out of my robes. “And part of Skinner’s cloak… I… I thought you were dead…” My Ghost flew over and started to heal my body and my wounds. I could feel my strength returning to my body, but I didn’t want to move from his embrace. “I failed you… I’m so sorry…”

“Shh… you didn’t fail anyone. You still tried to fight. You’re going to be okay.”

I looked at Maverick and Skinner, who had come over and crouched down beside us. Tears still streamed from my eyes onto my cheeks. “I wanna go home…”

Maverick nodded and lifted me up, then turned to Skinner. “This stays quiet. We can’t tell the Vanguard what happened. At least not all of the details. If they ask, he showed us all our fears. Got it?”

“Trust me Mav, when we land in the Tower I don’t even want to talk to the Vanguard about what happened here.”

The moment our Ghosts got a lock onto Maverick’s ship, we transmatted out of there. The moment we were off the Dreadnaught, all comms came back to life.

“This is attempt thirty-two to reach Fireteam Dauntless. Fireteam, if you can read us, let us know you’re okay.” It was Ikora.

Maverick settled me down in one of the seats and helped me buckle in. My body still felt weak and stiff, but at least my strength was back. Before he went into the pilot’s seat to respond, he held tightly onto my hands and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “We’re going to get you home so you can rest, so sit tight, okay?” I didn’t want him to let go, so I squeezed his hands tighter.

You cannot escape me.

“Genesis are you ok?” Skinner asked as he knelt down in front of me.

“What’s happening?” Maverick asked.

You embrace death. The Deep embraces death.

I shook my head and held my head in my hands, and curled my legs to my chest. “I can still hear his voice,” I whispered. “Beckoning…”

The two of them exchanged a look. “Eris… would know how to help…” Skinner said.

“Let’s just get home first,” Maverick said firmly, dropping the subject. “Skinner, get on the comms and contact the Vanguard. Tell them we’re alright and on our way home.”

Skinner nodded then went up to the co-pilot seat. “This is Skinner from Fireteam Dauntless. We defeated Oryx in our world but he disappeared somewhere. We’re on our way home.”

“It’s good to hear from you, Fireteam,” Cayde said. “Get home safely. We’ll meet you in the Hanger when you enter the airspace.”

“Right…”

Maverick finally left me and went to his seat at the controls. I hugged myself tightly.

“Guardian?” My Ghost floated in front of me. I looked at her with tears still in my eyes. “I… I’ve seen what he did to you. Are you alright?”

I shook my head and gently held her in my hands. “I’m just glad I sent you away,” I mumbled quietly. “If you were there with me, he would have Taken you, too. And I wouldn’t be back here now.”

“I see memories of what happened to you. You said you can still hear him? I… I don’t hear him, Genesis, are you sure he’s there?”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek and nodded. “It’s not like he’s saying the same thing. He’s in my head…”

“He can’t be in your head, Genesis,” Dawn insisted. “I can’t pick up any trace of him in your brain.”

“Ghost,” I said to her sternly. “Stop. You don’t know what you’re talking about. I know what I’m hearing.” I wrapped my arms around my legs and held tightly onto the backs of my sleeves. I tried to close my eyes and sleep, but every time I did I saw flashes of Oryx, of the Taken, of the corrupted sword in my hand, the taken energy in Oryx’s fist. Every time I had to open my eyes again to remind myself that I wasn’t in that darkness anymore. But every time Maverick turned back to check on me, I closed my eyes and feigned sleep, and I endured the nightmares behind my eyelids until he looked away.

“She’s strong,” Skinner murmured. I opened my eyes a tiny bit, just enough to keep myself awake to eavesdrop, but not enough to where they thought I was awake. I peered at the two of them through my eyelashes

“I know,” Maverick sighed. “But she’s not as strong as you and I.”

“And she will recover.”

“It might take a while, but yeah… I know…”

“She will need your help, Mav,” the Hunter added. “I don’t care what Vanguard protocol is. Just… stay by her side until we figure out what the hell went wrong. Why didn’t we kill him? Why did he just let us go? This doesn’t add up and you know it.”

“I know that!” Maverick hissed quietly. He was clearly angry about the way things went. “There’s too many questions and not enough answers. For now…” Maverick looked at me over his shoulder as we entered Earth’s orbit. “For now I just want to keep her safe and let her sleep.”

The two of them fell silent again as we entered the Tower airspace. Maverick announced our arrival and requested a landing pad. Even Amanda sounded relieved to hear we were back safely.

When we landed, Maverick came back to me as Skinner got ready to get off. He gently held my hands until I turned my focus to him. "Storm, I know you're tired, but you need to walk out of here. If the Vanguard finds out what happened to you, they will absolutely not let you be a Guardian anymore. Without a question. It would be like total lockdown, but permanent.”

My eyes filled with tears. Being a Guardian was the only thing getting me through this mess right now. “I know,” I whispered softly. “There’s just so many images I can’t get out of my head.”

“Angel, please,” Maverick pleaded. “We just have to get through the meeting with the Vanguard, and then we can go home. Can you do that?”

I took a shaky breath, but nodded. “I-I think so. I can try.” Maverick placed a hand on my elbow and helped me stand. We transmatted out of the ship and into the Hanger, where the Vanguard were waiting for us. Skinner was already with them, but he hadn’t said a word to the Vanguard. His arms were crossed and he was tapping his foot with his impatience and nerves.

I saw Eris stare at all of us. Her back straightened a bit and her shoulders went rigid.

She knew.

“How’d the mission go?” Zavala asked the group of us immediately, the moment we approached them.

“Wow, okay, no chill,” Maverick said bitterly. “But anyways that is the last time I want to fight a Hive King or God for a long time.”

“What do you mean Maverick?” Ikora asked.

“Do you know what it's like to have a monster like that poke and probe your mind for your fear, and then making them a reality? Not very fun. But other than, that the mission was a success.”

They all stared at us for a moment before Zavala broke the silence. “I believe I'll see an after action report by tomorrow correct?”

“Yeah sure Big Blue whatever you want,” he said.

He gave Mav a nod and they all walked away, except for Eris. She approached us, her head turned about to scan her surroundings, and she spoke with heavy concern. “I feel his presence, who is it? Who let him in?”

The three of us felt silent. I could feel Maverick’s grip on my hand tighten. Even still, I could hear his voice. I could hear his whispers. I closed my eyes to fight back tears.

“It's… Storm. She was Taken, I think, for a brief moment,” Maverick said, probably louder than he should have.

Eris held up a hand to silence him, she looked around the Hanger once more, and then back to us.

“Too many wondering ears. Come we will go somewhere more… secluded.” She motioned for us to follow her. We followed her out of the Hanger into the Tower Plaza past the Postmaster and up some stairs. People rarely went up here so it was the most secluded place in the Tower.

“You were Taken?!” She exclaimed once we were far out of earshot. I almost winced at the harsh tone in her voice, but I knew it was from shock. “How did you break Oryx's hold on your will?”

I looked at Maverick nervously, but he nodded anyway. Eris had to know, even if I didn't want to recount everything that happened. “Oryx separated us one by one to try and break our wills. I gave Skinner my Ghost before he came for me. And after he… took me, he tried to make me kill them. They brought me back. They helped me remember who I was, who they were, and keep a grip on the little bit of Light I had left. Oryx gave me a knife imbued with Taken energy and I… I used that knife to kill myself and used the Light my Ghost gave back to me to activate my radiance. My light must have broken his hold on my Will, but he’s still there.”

“What are you hearing, Guardian? What are the voices telling you?”

I looked away and hugged myself tightly. Even Eris, with her prodding questions, made me feel uncomfortable. But she’s the expert on the Hive, if anyone knew how to explain this, it was her. “I hear… whispers. Oryx telling me about the Deep, about death, that I can’t escape his reach. Every time I close my eyes, I have these… visions of what happened on the Dreadnaught.” I looked back at Eris. “I’m trying so hard, but I can’t block him out. He’s there, he’s still in my head… like fingers pressing on my consciousness.”

“But your connection with your fireteam together with your Light broke most of his hold. But to rid your mind of the Taken King you must kill him, in his Throne World. So soon you will return and bring down the King. And without a leader the Taken should wither."

“Do we even know where he is?” Skinner interrupted. “We can’t kill him if we can’t find his throne, right?”

“The Hidden and I will find him. You must prepare your fireteam. And Guardian,” Eris turned me, “do not heed his calls, and fight his voices. He can only win if you let him in.” Eris nodded her head to each of us, then walked away. I walked over to the railings that overlooked the land below. I placed my hands on the rails and took a few deep breaths. I shut my eyes tightly.

You will try to hide…

“Storm…” Skinner walked over to me. “Are you alright?”

You will try to run…

“No,” I croaked out. Every time he spoke my head felt like it was being ripped open and I got a splitting headache. I clutched so tightly onto the metal that my knuckles turned white.

But I will always find you.

“You’re hearing him again, aren’t you?” Maverick said as he came over to my side. He placed his hand on my shoulder. I could only nod in response. Maverick placed his hands over mine and held on tightly. “Storm, listen to me,” he said firmly. I opened my eyes, on the verge of tears, and looked at him. “He cannot reach you here. We won’t let him hurt you again, okay?”

I could only give Maverick a small, tentative nod. As much as I wanted to believe him, getting used to these voices was difficult.

“Well… I’m going to get a drink,” Skinner said. “Storm, you should go home and rest. And Mav… remember what we talked about.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Skinner left the Tower and we stayed on the balcony in silence. I didn’t want to move. The air was crisp and cold with the coming winter. Clouds were rolling in, replacing the reds and yellows of the setting sun with the shadow of darkness.

“Come on, Angel,” Maverick said softly as he lifted my frozen hands from the cold railing. “Let’s go home.”

---translations--

* You will not break me!

#a tale of two guardians fic #destined pt 1 #destiny #destiny fic #destiny fanfiction #destiny taken #oryx #commander zavala #ikora rey #cayde-6 #eris morn #destiny the taken king #my writing #my guardian #my guardian oc #star's writing

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timebird84 · 4 years

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🎄 PotO Advent Calendar ‘19 🎄

To Love, a Winter Fairytale

by @arelya-andaria

To be loved is to be consumed. And yet it didn’t feel that way at all. With her, it was as gentle as a warm sunny morning, the pink dawn carefully tinting the blue sky, timidly brightening until it was shining and unstoppable.

Loving her certainly felt like that, slow and gentle at first, and then encompassing, never ending. Epic.

Thirty one Christmases after their first, it was still bright and warm. She was still the same gentle and kind soul who so unapologetically captured his heart, when they first met. Sweeping him off his feet in barely a heartbeat.

A masquerade ball, in Vienna. One they had always said they would go to, and now the time has finally come.

It had snowed this morning, and when they reached the Musikverein of the famous Vienna orchestra and its balls and musical concerts, night had settled in, but the city was shining with thousands of lights. It truly was a beautiful place, with its old buildings, and the sound of music hovering around every corner.

Why they had waited so long to go there, he didn’t know. Because while he’d loved Paris for all his life, he fell in love almost instantly with the Austrian Capital. It was, after all, where some of the most beloved music had been written, played, and first discovered, for many, many years. And he could feel it, as strange as it sounded.

They both could.

Around every corner as they made their way over to the building, music surrounded them. Christmas bells, violin concertos, operatic arias filled the air as much as the oxygen. And despite the cold and the white snow covering every inch, it brought warmth to their hearts.

She had her arm on his, carefully hidden by a huge and warm cloak. He hadn’t had a chance to really look at her in her gown, saying he would see her well in the ballroom where the concert will happen. Dinner first, concert and finally dancing.

It was hard to understand why they’d never done this before.

He wore his mask, as usual, but it didn’t matter, not anymore, not while she was with him, and the love in her eyes made his deformity irrelevant. If she could bear him with it, then so should he.

And he hadn’t given it a thought for the whole journey. Not even when he prepared himself back in their hotel room and ajusted it in front of the mirror. Of course, the lingering, long and delicious kiss she’d given him afterwards, when he’d been finished with his preparations and had emerged from the bathroom wearing, if he dared saying so himself, a dashing tux perfectly tailored to fit his tall and elegant frame, the silk white shirt cleverly hiding some of his thinness.

“What a handsome man you are,” she’d whispered in his arms.

And not for the first time, now, he’d believed his lovely wife, the picture of beauty and love. She was still small and lovely, blonde curls bouncing over her shoulders, her blue eyes filled with so much tenderness.

She was always smiling and laughing, these days. Still singing with him every day.

But not today.

Today would be a different kind of performing, one neither of them was very familiar with, but he knew it would be wonderful, if only because she was right there with him.

They found the building of the concert, a beautiful magnificent edifice of the 19th century, golden and marble and white, shimmering with all the lights that had been installed for the holiday season.

Christmas trees were set on both sides of the door, butler taking their cloaks after checking their identity. He didn’t say anything about the mask. They’d been expected, after all.

They followed other well-dressed couples to the dining room, where another fifty hand-picked people were arriving and settling down.

He pulled her chair out, at their little table for two, in the right corner near the stage and the orchestra.

She’d never sung here yet, but after tonight, she would hope to be reinvited for the next year.

They sat down, and he could finally have a better look at her. Her gown was a clear blue, set with stars and sparkles. In the light of the dozen chandeliers of the room, she was positively radiant. It almost hurt to look at her.

She wore satin gloves of pure white, her hand reaching over to grasp his. For once, their fingers matched, both encased in the soft and delicate material.

On the stage, the orchestra played light music, while waiters dressed in their finery began bringing the plates. A four-course meal, of the most delicious food they had both tasted in a while. Red wine, to accompany their dessert. One glass, and Christine was already feeling the most delightful effect. The room felt pleasantly warm, her belly filled and her wonderful, gentle husband smiling at her with shining eyes. And not least, the music was good.

But this was only a prelude to the rest of the concert they were to attend tonight, before the great ball.

They were both listening quietly to the music, lost in it, together exchanging glances in recognition of a particular favored piece. A secret language only the two of them spoke.

Their love language.

After dinner, their plates were cleared, and with a last glass of wine, they sat back in their chairs, hand in hand, while the performers, a soprano and a tenor took their places on the stage. Friends of theirs, for many years, it had been at their invitation that they had both come to listen and to dance. Not that they hadn’t already been invited to perform many times over.

Refusing, for they preferred to make this night their own. Many years later, after much pleading, they had been convinced to come.

Their friends knew it was a game the couple loved to play, little tricks they shared, many laughs exchanged over the years as they imagined their friends despairing over their case.

Older than their age, they were said. Hermits, the both of them.

The opera arias began, as the orchestra soared right behind them. The maestra knew them both, of course, and had saluted them when she’d entered the room.

Still, she hadn’t given them more attention than necessary. Fame wasn’t what they were looking for.

In the rising silence, the diva started to sing, an aria Christine adored, and had sung many times over the course of thirty years, most of them with her husband adoringly gazing back at her, teaching her, loving her.

Then followed ten other pieces, recent and old, famous and obscure, even one, the very last one, composed by the in-love pair. Music and lyrics from their magnus opus, “The singer & the ghost.”

An opera they had first interpreted in Paris, just for their friends. And then, meeting an unexpected success, they had brought it to the stage of the Palais Garnier. Ten dates, each one sold out. Afterwards, they had disappeared for a while, returning to their old love, finding themselves again. Making more music, together, of course.

The singers played an encore, the traditional Mozart ending piece, preparing the audience for the opening of the ball.

In the beautiful room, they all stood while the tables were taken away from the middle to make way for the dancing area.

He had dreaded this part, he had to admit. Dancing might be one thing, in the privacy of their home, and he’d loved doing that often. Dancing as the main couple at their wedding had been a long time ago, and he’d put up with it mainly to please her, because she’d been adamant about it, and of course, who was he to deny his Angel such a small thing? There had been no strangers, then, surrounded by their friends and family.

Still, this was a different ordeal altogether.

And yet, when she put her small hand on his shoulder, her other in his, squeezing his hand with her usual tenderness, and he towered over her as she looked up with such warmth in her eyes, he forgot about everything. The party, the guests, the other attendees, there was only them both, two lovers lost in a sea of lights, gliding over the marble under their feet. The music accompanied each of their movements, and at times, he whispered a line of melody under her ear.

They waltzed gracefully in ever growing circles from one side to the other of the room. The lights dimmed, until all he could see was her face, her smile, the small wrinkles at the corner of her eyes. Age had no hold over her. For him, she had not aged a day past the moment they’d met.

He forgot about the pain in his joints, how his back sometimes held him back now, from too many years hunched over a piano. In her arms, he was still the awkward, shy youth he’d been when they’d met, thirty-two years ago.

Uncaring as to where they went, they ended up on a balcony, open to the city lights and the cold, night air, still dancing, the music still deep within their hearts.

From up there, they could see the whole capital of Vienna, illuminated like a giant Christmas tree, gold and red and green.

And the snow was still falling softly overhead, white fluffy flakes they almost didn’t shake off their arms and shoulders.

But it was nearly time. Midnight. Excitement was coursing through the town, reaching over the ballroom in hushed tones and thrilled whispers.

They stopped dancing, two minutes till the New Year.

“Here’s to another beautiful year, together,” he said.

“And here’s to many, many more,” she added.

“To Music.”

“To Love.”

“And to us,” they whispered together.

As the sky overhead exploded into fireworks, and the bells echoed with the ringing of the New Year, she reached up, cradling his face in her still gloved hands, and kissed him.

Another year began, as the last one ended. And like the thirty one years before, this kiss sealed a promise.

To love and be loved, to be consumed by it, until they were but ashes lost in the wind.

And yet the skies would still sing of their love, forever.

#PotO Advent Calendar #PotO #Phantom of the Opera #Timebird84 #arelya-andaria #second door

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ninetalees · 4 years

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Sufferance, chapter 2

7 years after the events of Sword/Shield, Gym Leader Bede comes to Postwick to conduct some research in the Slumbering Weald; Hop is his unwilling companion.

Read the previous chapter here!

Read on AO3 here!

Warnings for: Eventual Hop x Bede (cheeryfairyshipping) and eventual M-rated content.

Chapter 2

Hop awoke early that morning. When he opened his eyes he lay still for a moment, assessing his condition following the night before. Of course, despite his aversion to the company, Gloria knew how to host a gathering. He had ended up staying later than he'd intended; knowing Gloria, she stockpiled beer to have on standby in case of opportunities such as these. Despite her celebrity status, Hop knew she treasured nothing more than her friends and the time she could spend with them. It was how they had remained so close, and how she hadn’t become unrecognisable following her rise to fame.

He didn't feel too rotten, luckily - just a dryness in his mouth and the faintest of headaches. He padded into the kitchen to fetch a glass of water, flicking the lights on as he went. His coat and bag were strewn across the table where he had carelessly flung them on his arrival home, but other than that the space bore no sign of any drunken shenanigans. That was a relief: if Gloria had had her way he would probably still be drinking in her living room. It was simpler for her, he supposed, living the jet-setting life that she did. Don’t. Gloria had fought hard for the life she led, as had he; it had taken their journey together for him to realise what he really wanted. He could deign to admit that sometimes it was difficult to see Gloria walking the path he had always been so certain had been laid out for him, but they were both happy now.

He leaned against the counter as he sipped his water, watching the dawn beginning to break outside. A few stubborn stars still clung to the pale blue morning sky, but the steady creep of the sun’s rays over the horizon would soon chase them away. For the life of him, he couldn’t imagine how today was going to go. Admittedly, the night before had gone far better than Hop had anticipated. He had been on high alert at first, but after a warm meal and a few cans of beer it was difficult to be tetchy. Bede and Gloria had recounted amusing anecdotes of their trip from Ballonlea and Hop had managed to laugh along without the slightest tinge of resentment or jealousy. It was always strange to drink with Bede, to see him pink-cheeked and mirthful, rid of that air of standoffishness that set Hop’s teeth on edge. The three of them drank well into the night, reminiscing all the while, and Hop hazily remembered shuffling home and thinking maybe it would be alright, after all.

But that had been last night, optimistic from the alcohol. Now, in the cold light of day, he was less certain. It was one thing to drink with Bede in Gloria’s living room – it was another entirely to work with him. He sighed and set down the glass to massage his forehead; perhaps he would need to take some painkillers before work after all.

His heart leapt to his mouth at the sudden blare of his alarm from his room. He raced to shut it off, his pulse in his ears. Why so early? It was then he remembered he had agreed to see Gloria off at the station, and to meet Bede and take him to the lab. He groaned audibly and flopped back onto his bed. Of course, brimming with goodwill from his fourth can and entirely caught up in the moment, he had agreed to be at the station for 6:30am to meet them. Normally he would have no issue getting up early to see Gloria off – he had done it many times before and would go through a lot more to spend extra time with her – but it would mean he would have an hour and a half to kill with a slightly hungover Bede before Sonia arrived. He felt for his phone on the bedside table and held it up to note the time – 6:02am. He would have time to shower and pull together the semblance of a person who hadn’t been up drinking until 2am the night before.

Twenty minutes later and Hop was up, dressed and on the way out. Briefly, he paused to observe himself in the mirror in the hallway. His hair was damp from the shower, and he hadn’t had time to shave, but other than that he looked a picture of professionalism. He adjusted the collar of his shirt self-consciously: was that a stain on his lapel? No, just a shadow. Maybe he should – what are you doing? He scowled back at his reflection. Since when had he cared so much about how he looked for work?

With an irritated shake of his head he headed away. Unlike yesterday, he didn’t linger – he was already short on time and didn’t want Gloria to miss her train. He ran down towards the station, noting the duo of dark shapes standing outside. Hop pulled up in front of them a few seconds later, breathless, and bent over for a moment to calm his racing heart. “Morning,” he wheezed. He straightened abruptly, enjoying the invigorating sweep of the frigid air through his hair. No wonder he had used to run everywhere.

Gloria and Bede regarded him, amusement in both their eyes. “Morning Hop,” Gloria replied, moving forward to gather him into a hug. “Glad you made it – we were just wondering if you would manage to surface.” Gloria drew back and must have noted the slight downturn of the corners of Hop’s mouth, because she added hurriedly. “Was difficult enough for us.”

Hop laughed and folded his hands behind his head as she stepped back to release him. “Yeah, was touch and go for a while, but I wouldn’t miss my best mate for the world.” He grinned and Gloria smiled back, visibly touched.

“Thanks Hop, you’re the best.” She rearranged her rucksack on her shoulders. “I wish I could hang around longer, I really do. It’s always so lovely to be home and I’d love to be able to show you around Bede.” She rested a hand on his arm. “Next time, I promise. And Hop will be a great host.”

Hop gauged Bede’s reaction carefully. There didn’t appear to be any hint of irony in his smile back at Gloria: in fact, with his halo of pale hair, beneath the glow of the station lights he appeared positively angelic. “I have no doubt,” he replied, and Hop managed not to frown as he leaned forward to embrace her. “Thanks again for sorting everything with Hannah. I’ll make it up to you both.”

Gloria chuckled. “Oh please, it’s nothing. Like I said Mum is glad of the company – just help her water the plants in the evening and you’ll be golden.” Hop managed to laugh along with them both but seethed internally at Hannah’s name coming so casually from Bede’s lips. Since when had he been on a first name basis with Gloria’s mother? He was interrupted from dwelling on this brief pang of irritation by the station speakers crackling to life, announcing that 6:30am service to Hammerlocke was due for departure.

“Bye you two!” Gloria sounded genuinely sorrowful as she backed towards the platform, waving until she had to turn around and jog onto the train. Bede and Hop waved back until the doors closed and the train pulled away. For a long moment afterwards they stood in silence, watching the lights fading into the encroaching dawn. Hop wondered if Bede was contemplating the same as himself: that they would have to make their own conversation, now.

Eventually, Hop cleared his throat. “Well,” he said at last. “Sonia should be in the lab at around 8am, so we have an hour and a half to kill.” He glanced at Bede, who was still staring pensively into the distance. “Anything you fancy doing? Honestly I could probably show you most of the sights of Wedgehurst and Postwick in that time and still have some to spare.”

Bede pursed his lips, and glanced at that ostentatious golden watch of his. It was as oversized on him as it had been seven years ago, and slid up his arm with the slightest of movements. “I hadn’t really given it much thought, I suppose,” he replied. “I think I’d rather save the tour for a time when it’s not ridiculous o’clock in the morning and I’m not slightly sleep deprived. Why don’t we just grab a coffee?”

Hop burst out laughing, and it was only when he met Bede’s bewildered gaze he realised he hadn’t been joking. “Grab a coffee?” he spluttered. “Hate to be the bearer of bad news, mate, but you’re in the arse-end of Galar here. You’re a good 40 miles out of ‘grabbing a coffee’ territory.”

Bede scowled. “Alright, sorry I’m not familiar with your ‘arse-end of Galar’ sensibilities,” he huffed. “What do you suggest, then? Go and nap in the fields with the Wooloo for an hour?”

Hop couldn’t help but chuckle. “Honestly, with the amount of sleep I’ve had, that sounds like a great plan.” He rolled his shoulders, considering. “If it’s coffee you’re after, though, let’s just head to the lab. There’s a kitchen and I’m sure Sonia has a jar of instant squirreled away somewhere.”

Bede sniffed. “Fine,” he replied, a slight edge to his tone. It seemed Hop had managed to offend him already; he didn’t like to be laughed at, that was for sure. They had been alone what, five minutes? If Gloria were still there she would have punched him.

Instead, Hop chose to ignore Bede’s obvious annoyance and strolled past him towards the lab. He indicated Bede should follow with a twitch of his head; Bede paused for a moment, reluctant to react to what was a tacit command, before trailing after him.

They walked in silence until they arrived at the lab. Hop withdrew the key from his coat pocket and moved to unlock the door. He held it open for Bede, who gave him a long look before going inside. Hop closed it after them, flicked on the lights, and watched smilingly as Bede looked around in unbridled awe. It was an impressive establishment, all gleaming countertops and pristine equipment. Bede moved past Hop to press a tentative hand to the towering glass wall, enraptured by the dance of the morning light across its surface. Hop watched him for a moment. He had never seen him so… unguarded, the shine of the glass reflected in his oddly-coloured eyes. In a purely aesthetic sense Bede was… sort of beautiful, he supposed. Ethereal and untouchable, like a statue in a museum.

Hop shook himself and straightened instinctively when Bede turned to face him. “Coffee?” he asked, and Bede nodded. Hop made a beeline for the door in the back that led to the kitchen. He bustled around the small space, busying himself with the familiar motions in order to distract himself from his inexplicably racing heart. In all their years of sufferance, that was by far the most intimate moment they had ever shared. After a moment Bede came to linger in the entryway. He leaned against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest.

“Pretty impressive setup you have here,” he remarked. His tone was causal, expression conveying none of wonder it had before. “I had thought it would be smaller.”

Hop frowned into the mugs he was pouring. He was almost grateful for the familiar bite of exasperation that accompanied that comment – he could deal with that. “Well, yeah, it is the central hub for Pokémon research in the Galar region,” he replied curtly. “What were you expecting? A barn?”

Bede raised an eyebrow. “Calm down, I was just saying.” He stepped back so Hop could hand him a mug as they both moved back into the lab. “I pictured more storybook red-brick as opposed to sleek marble and glass, that’s all.”

Hop didn’t dignify that with a response. As much as he enjoyed sniping at Bede, they couldn’t be at each other throats all the time or they would surely be driven to insanity. Or at least he would – he was convinced Bede thrived on being as contrary as possible most of the time. Instead, he walked over to the main monitor and powered it on; might as well get set up for the day ahead.

“So what was it exactly you’re here to look at?” he asked, his eyes steadfastly on the screen. “I think you mentioned it last night but I’ve forgotten.”

“Ah, continuing something Opal looked into years back.” Bede leaned back on his hands that were resting on the countertop. “Herself and Magnolia established that Weezing’s Galar forme first adopted its Fairy-type in the Slumbering Weald. So, there’s reason to believe there is something particular about it that is accommodating to Fairy-types. It’s the most similar spot to the Glimwood Tangle in all of Galar environment-wise.” Hop nodded slowly as Bede continued. “So, is just a matter of having a snoop around. Or rather, an educated snoop around – figure out what aspect of both places is attractive to Fairy-types, be it environmental or otherwise.”

Admittedly, it did sound like an intriguing study. Almost interesting enough that Hop was less bothered about the idea of Bede poking around the Slumbering Weald. “Hm, interesting.” Hop replied after a moment. He got to his feet to jog up to the balcony. “Might be a good start to have a look at the physical attributes of different Fairy-type species: their physiology, diet, etcetera,” he called down, pulling a few titles from the shelves. “At least, that’s something we can do while we’re waiting.”

Hop could feel Bede’s gaze on him as he made his way slowly back down the stairs, balancing the books he had selected on his outstretched arms. He smugly noted the faint look of admiration in the other boy’s eyes. “Sure, sounds good.” He folded his arms and regarded Hop with a tilt of his head. “You know your stuff.”

“Haven’t just been sitting on my arse the last seven years,” Hop shot back cheerily, laying the books out before them. “Let’s make some notes.”

***

A few hours later, and Hop and Bede were on their way to the Slumbering Weald.

The rest of the morning had gone by in a blur – once they were silent and immersed in study, time passed much more quickly. Sonia had arrived at 8am on the dot, impressed by the sight of their noses already buried in books. Hop opted not to mention they functioning on just about four hours sleep because they had been up drinking the night before.

Once the introductions had been made and Sonia briefed more thoroughly on Bede’s research, she had set them up with equipment and sent them on their way, promising to contribute as much as she could in between her regular duties. Hop, with his impression of Bede forever coloured by their rivalry in the past, wondered how he came off to people meeting him for the first time. He was such a gentleman now, all polite smiles and impeccable manners – so different to the brash, arrogant so-and-so he had been before. Hop could tell Sonia was impressed, by both his scientific curiosity and affability (in that order.) If only she knew; Hop remained unconvinced.

Hop pushed the gate that led to the forest path. It swung open easily, the lock having long rusted beyond use. Hop didn’t think it had ever been fixed from that first day of his and Gloria’s journey, and he was glad. It was nice to have it there – a physical reminder of the start of his life with Pokémon. Bede came through and Hop shut the gate after them. He let Bede lead as they passed into the shadow of the trees, both blinking as their eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness. “S’cold,” Bede remarked, pausing for a moment to rub some heat back into his skinny arms. “Colder than Glimwood.”

“Hence the fog,” Hop replied, taking advantage of the break to rearrange the bags of equipment he was carrying. “Must be a different type of tree here – more effective at blocking out the sunlight. Something to take note of!” He grinned. “Let’s go a little further in, then set up shop. It’ll only be some preliminary stuff we’re looking at today anyway.”

“Fine with me.” Bede straightened and gave Hop a little nod. “Astute observation. About the trees, I mean.”

“It is kind of my job.” Hop resumed walking. He didn’t have the patience to wait for a response: he was sure Bede had been gearing up to say something cutting. They wandered further into the wood. Hop noticed Bede had begun to shiver, but declined to comment. Let him bring a scarf tomorrow.

They found a spot to set up eventually, and busied themselves with their work. As Hop had pointed out, today was only the beginning. They had set themselves the task of gathering samples from the environment – the soil, the trees, the berries, anything else they could find, and potting them to take back and compare with samples Bede had brought from Glimwood. They toiled away in silence, speaking only to comment upon findings or compare notes. It was surprisingly companionable, and not at all as unbearable as Hop had imagined. Bede was focused; every time Hop threw him a glance his features were furrowed with concentration. Hop realised in that moment it was only now, watching Bede work, that he fully believed he was here to actually study and it was in fact not a well-constructed ruse to infringe on the life Hop had built and drive him to insanity. That was a relief, at least.

Eventually, Hop got around to checking the time. He balked at the numbers glowing back at him – when had it become 4:30? He stretched, muscles aching from having spent the day on his knees. “Ready to head back?” he asked. Bede was sprawled on the forest floor as though it were his bedroom carpet, scribbling away. He looked up at the sound of Hop’s voice and straightened to glance at his watch. “Gosh.” He shook some dirt from his sleeve. “The day went quickly.”

“Yeah, nothing better than a new project to make the most of a day,” Hop replied cheerfully. Distracted by his good mood, he unthinkingly offered Bede a hand. For a split second Bede stared at it as though it had teeth. In that instant, Hop considered pulling it back and pretending it had never happened. Before he knew it, however, Bede’s hand was in his. Hop pulled him to his feet, noting how incredibly light he was. Once up, Bede let go right away and they hurriedly turned away from each other to brush themselves down. “Thanks,” mumbled Bede. Hop grunted noncommittally in response and busied himself with collecting the equipment. Bede watched him for a moment, fiddling with his earring, before silently joining Hop in gathering their belongings. Hop’s cheeks were flushed with annoyance at himself – it was no good to be letting his guard down too soon. Today had been a good day, but he couldn’t allow himself to become complacent. He was still a long way off trusting Bede an inch.

They headed back towards Wedgehurst unspeaking. Hop was relieved they were both too tired to attempt to abide by social convention and make small talk. He wanted nothing more than to be out of these dirty clothes and curl up on his couch, to liberate himself of the strange atmosphere that hung like a shroud over the pair. Whenever he glanced at Bede it was evident his companion was lost in thought, eyes on the sky. Hop wondered what he was thinking about.

They arrived in Wedgehurst and Hop was about to turn to Bede and offer to take the rest of the equipment back to the lab and finish up – if only to get rid of him – but before he could do so an ear-splitting scream had them both near jumping out of their skins. They both spun around to see a young girl sprinting towards them, arms flailing. She skidded to a halt in front of them, out of breath and pink with excitement. “Oh. My. Gosh,” she squealed. “Gym Leader Bede? Is that really you?” She jumped up and down, clapping her hands. “I can’t believe you’re here! I’m such a fan. Fairy-types are the best – my mum says I get a Clefairy for my eleventh birthday!” She glanced at Hop. He recognised her as Amelia; her mother worked at the Mart on weekends. “I didn’t know Bede was your friend Hop,” she gushed. “You need to introduce me!”

Hop and Bede looked at each other; Hop could see his own bewilderment reflected in Bede’s gaze. “Uh…” he scratched his cheek, scrambling to right himself. “Well, I don’t think he needs much introducing – you seem to know exactly who he is.” He laughed awkwardly. “Bede, this is, uh, Amelia. She lives here in Wedgehurst. Long-time neighbour of mine.” Bede blinked at Hop, before turning to smile at a wide-eyed Amelia. “Um, hi.” He shifted the bags he was carrying so he could extend a hand. “Nice to meet you. Pretty town you have here.”

Amelia squealed again and shook his hand so enthusiastically Hop was concerned for the safety of Bede’s load of equipment. Bede, warmed by her enthusiasm, found his stride in easy conversation as Amelia babbled at him. Hop watched from the sidelines. Outwardly he was smiling, but his stomach was tight. He was happy, being a Pokémon Professor in training – it was where he was meant to be, and he was good at it. Far better than he ever had been at battling competitively. The work wasn’t as glamourous – he spent his days on his knees in the mud whilst the likes of Gloria and Bede were out shaking hands and kissing babies – but it was just as important. Moreso, even: all the strategies and tactics trainers employed related to the attributes of particular Pokémon that had all been discovered by Pokémon professors and researchers. He had great pride in what he did. But he couldn’t help but remember, sometimes, that he had had to fall behind and relinquish a dream to arrive where he was now. For so long, he had compared Leon’s past with his future. And sometimes late at night when he stared up at the darkened ceiling, all he could see was flash of the stadium lights and the excited roar of the crowd. Cheering for him, the greatest trainer Galar had ever seen…

“Hop?” he was jerked from his reverie by Ameila waving a hand in front of his face. “Hey, Hop? Can you take a picture of us please?” Ameila was clutching her phone to her chest, gazing at him with hopeful eyes. Bede appeared visibly uncomfortable, eyes darting from Hop to Amelia. If Hop hadn’t known better he would have thought he appeared almost apologetic.

“Uh, sure,” Hop replied after a moment. He accepted the phone from her and stood back, gesturing for them to stand in the frame. “Say cheese!”

“Cheese!” cried Amelia, throwing her arm around Bede’s waist. Bede blinked rapidly, akin to a Stanler in headlights, before he managed to adopt a hesitant smile. Hop snapped a few pictures in rapid succession until Amelia was clamouring for her phone back to do a review. She swiped through a few, nodding as she went. “Awesome,” she breathed, looking up at Bede. “Do you have a League Card I could have? Pretty please?”

“Of course,” Bede replied. He fumbled through the assortment of bags he was carrying to find his own rucksack. He felt around inside until his fingers brushed the familiar sharp plastic edges of his League Card bundle to pull one out and place it in Amelia’s eager hands. “Oh. My. Gosh!” She held it up the sun. “It’s signed and everything! This is the best day ever!” She was near vibrating with excitement at this point, cheeks flush with delight. “Thank you so much, Leader Bede!” She grinned up at him. “My friends are gonna be so jealous! I hope you enjoy your stay.”

“My pleasure.” Bede shook her outstretched hand one last time. “Lovely to meet you.”

Amelia giggled bashfully, twisting a lock of hair around her fingers with her free hand. When Bede stepped back she finally acknowledged Hop. “Good to see you too, Hop. You’re so lucky – all your friends are so cool!” Hop nodded, unable to muster a smile. She’s just a kid. It would be stupidly petty and immature to get upset.

At last Amelia ran off, and Hop and Bede were left standing in silence. “Hop…” Bede ventured after a moment. Hop whirled to face him.

“What?” he snarled, and Bede blinked, taken aback by the force of his reaction.

“I didn’t… that was…” Bede sighed. “Sorry,” he settled for at last.

“What on earth are you apologising for?” Hop forced a laugh. “You’re a Gym Leader. You have fans.”

“I know,” Bede replied. “But… I mean, I know it’s probably weird because of… before.” He pressed his lips together, stumbling over his words. “I just… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you dare feel sorry for me,” Hop hissed with such vitriol he surprised even himself. Bede stared at him for a moment, eyes wide, before his expression became dark. “It’s not pity that I have for you, Hop,” he replied coldly.

Hop’s fists tightened around the bags he was carrying. He was glad of their weight: it kept him grounded, reminded him his hands were full so it would not be prudent to punch Bede in the jaw in broad daylight.

“Give me your bags.” Hop spoke at last. “I’ll take them back. You go home – I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Bede opened his mouth, then thought the better of it and shut it again. Wordlessly, he handed off the bags to Hop. He didn’t move to help when Hop stumbled slightly under the weight of them.

“See you tomorrow, then,” he replied after a moment, his expression utterly unreadable. He turned back in the direction of Postwick, blond hair shimmering in the late afternoon sun. Hop watched him until he was out of sight, then spun around to head back towards the lab, teeth clenched with fury.

It was sunlight, not tears in his eyes, that was obscuring his vision.

***

A/N: Wow, Chapter 2 finished already! Don’t get too used to this, lol – have some time off work so have more time to work on this. Future updates will probably be slower. Or maybe not, I am really feeling this story right now so am motivated to work on it!

Anyways, here it is! Please enjoy. I will edit this and fix up small mistakes later, lol, but am sick of looking at it for now.

Also, in case people are wondering, ‘arse-end’ is a term for the ‘middle of nowhere.’ I think it’s mostly Irish (I am Irish) but a lot of Irish phrases are used in Britain too, so – I may take a few liberties on that. Any Brits are free to call me out hahaha.

#cheeryfairyshipping #hop x bede #bedehop #rival hop #bede #my writing

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frauleinmary · 4 years

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Tears of a child (Alfie Allen inspired)

Jack snapped his fingers and placed a pale squeletic finger on the table, right in the middle of the pile of the old UNO cards, his symmetrical features shimmered with the light above of them,, making his jawline feel like a dagger that could cut the air Emma was breathing.

“That’s cheating” he said and ran as hand through his golden locks, still sticky with the sweat, as a result of his most recent walk early at dawn “This is a red card not yellow, get out of here” his voice was soft but deadly, teasing his sister..

Emma blinked and coughed, covering her mouth with her fist immediately to prevent any germs or viruses from reaching her brother who watched her moves while sipping on his coffee, his green emerald eyes reminded her of a wolf, she giggled:

“Trust me I could cough in your pretty face”she assured him and removed her card in the blink of an eye and put it aside, frowning when she took a closer look at it”How come this is red?

He grinned showing her his perfect white teeth: “Believe it Emma”

“How can I?” She questioned him, her voice soft compared to his, they might be siblings but his Adam’s apple made it clear he could be rough and heartless even when it came to her.

He shrugged, enjoying her confusion, the way she looked up to him for an answer was the most satisfying feeling in the entire universe, followed closely by how he adored sleeping while listening to her crying, reminded him of the whimpers of his victims and the crying of their families after they found out the fate of their loved ones.

He tilted his head, remembering the sensation the tears on her pillow gifted him, he always pressed his face slightly against it, savouring her pain and suffering, he was even close to tasting her salty young tears. But instead of confessing her his thoughts out loud he yawned and lazily stretched his arms, marking his back muscles: “You believe in God, you tell me”

She groaned and rolled her eyes: “I don’t wanna hear it Jack, save your words for another occasion” she couldn’t stand him sometimes, so stubborn, so careless, so handsome, that was something she had confirmed when a bunch of random girls in heels and tight dresses had followed him home, he was smiling so much, like a stupid toddler “We are not having another of your arguments, this conversation is over, I’m off to bed” .

Jack paid close attention to her: her wavy blonde hair that fell over her shoulders, the same colour as pure gold, sometimes he felt like a lucky pirate who had found a beautiful mermaid that he called sister. her green eyes were slightly darker than his but that didn't take away her beauty, oh how how he wanted to introduce her to the world, to place her on top of it, maybe turn her into a model or an important woman in politics but he couldn’t. His job prevented him from doing so, she was endangered plus, she could try and turn against him, which was something that wouldn't benefit neither of them, he already had his hands soaked in blood, blood from strangers and a few friends close to the family, he would rather keeping his little innocent angel out of his business rather than bringing her down to hell, she wouldn't like it , in fact she would commit suicide if she ever found out. So he let her fly away with her wings glued to her back and the halo on her head, he let her sleep in her bed made out of clouds and roses, peacefully drifting off to wonderland, he stayed downstairs for a while though, he, the devil, the fallen angel awaited anxiously his next call, his next move on the chess board, would he get to knock out a king?, a horse?, a tower? or an insignificant pawn?. He didn't care for those at all, the best prize was a queen, to kill the main support of a family….

That was everything to him.

How did he lose his wings you ask? Well, God stripped them out of his body when he killed his own queen, after that, his body bled out and his heart served no use.

#alfie allen #murder #assasin #tears #story

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sxnnerman-frxllo · 5 years

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Clayton Frollo

Name: Clayton Frollo

Alias: Clay, Claudia (Deadname)

Age: 19

Gender: Male (FTM)

Pronouns: He/Him

Sexuality: Bisexual

Height: 5’5 (165 cm)

Faceclaim: Fedya (Lest.at)

Nationality: French

Spoken Languages: French, English, a little Latin

Villain Parent: Claude Frollo

Personality: Snarky, Rebellious, Hot Headed, Sassy, Nervous, VERY Anxious around people who he precives as better people than him

Talents and skills: Proficiency with Base Guitar, really fast

Backstory

(Tw; Abuse, Homophobia, Transphobia)

Nobody knows who the mother(s) of Claude Frollo children, nobody knows who’d be dumb enough to sleep with the old man, but people do talk. In Claudias case, some theorize her mum was the famous queen of hearts, though all parties involved denied it on several occasions. Really, it didn’t matter to her, because she wasn’t around. All who was around was good old Frollo.

Frollo taught his children everything straight from the holy word. You couldn’t eat, sleep, or wipe your bum without knowing it was either god’s will or a straight sin. Some of his children took to his teachings, others did not. And those ‘rebellious devils’ were treated the worse. While his good little angels would receive low punishments for not doing what they’re told, the others would be beaten and whipped. While his perfect sons and daughters would get good meals, the others would live on leftovers and scraps. While his darling children would get to go outside and run errands, the others were kept in the high towers of his makeshift cathedral.

These poor children soon grew scared of him, frightened that he might lash out as he often did, and tried their best to act as good as they could be, going to extreme lengths to prove themselves. But Frollo had made up his mind about them, and his will was harsh and unchanging.

Claudia just so happened to be one of them. Her initial crime was being ‘too tomboyish’ for a young lady her age. She was constantly being told she had too loud a mouth and not sharp enough a mind. But whenever she did ask questions she was always turned away. When she was young she was especially curious especially about their teachings; “Why were these people punished so severely, they didn’t do anything?” “But that doesn’t match up to historical accounts?” “Isn’t this contradicting what he said earlier?”

Though she meant no harm, her curiousitys infuriated Frollo. Most often she was beaten the worst, sometimes for no reason. From age eight to eleven, she began to learn first aid to help her own and her siblings wounds.

Then at age twelve, she decided to finally venture outside. Her siblings tried to convince her not to go, but she persisted. She decided that she would go at night and come back at dawn, an hour before her father woke them all up. And by god it worked! This, perhaps, was one of the best decisions of her life.

While looking about she discovered all sorts of things on the isle like other cultures, pirates, different clothing styles, ideas of anarchy, music, wonderful food, and different communities, all of which she shared with her siblings when she returned. She learned the most about herself.

One of the many things she learned during this time period was she was not actually a she. She was talking with one of her new found friends about how she feeling uncomfortable in her skin when the other told her about being transgender, and that it sounded like she was experiencing body dysphoria. Naturally, as kids do, they tested every possible identity, pronouns, and names they could think of to find one that fitted Claudia and eventually they did. They settled upon male, using he/him pronouns, and after riggorus internal debate decided on the name Clayton. Another thing he found, when he was a little older, was his own sexuality, quite easily find out he was attracted to any gender.

Clayton was ever so excited about these discoveries but knew if his family ever found out, he’d never hear the end of it. So he kept these discoveries to himself.

He did this almost every weekend for a few years, and his father didn’t catch him so he just kept doing it. Until, of course, one day, the old judge did find out. At this time he was fifteen years old. It was late and Clayton had fallen asleep while out. When he finally woke up in a little alleyway surrounded by his sleeping friends, he quickly realized it was well past dawn. He ran home quickly but as he turned to corner to face his home, Frollo was waiting for him, standing in the doorway. The two made eye contact, and Clayton just knew he was gonna get beat to hell.

Frollo hadn’t ever given him hell quite like he did that day. If you’d ask any of his siblings or even the neighbors, they would’ve told you they heard the shrieks, wails, and shouts for hours on end.

Eventually, Clayton had a realization. At this point he was already numb to the pain so it didn’t matter what the old judge did. So he hurled every insult and poisonous word he could think of to describe the monster of a father. He spoke with a venom Claude hadn’t seen from his children and boy did it scare him. So much so, he lashed back with more force, more words, until the young boy got physical right back at him.

Though Clayton landed a few got hits, he was still no match for the judge, who pulled him out onto the streets by the hair. The two walked to the docks still dragging the boy out by the hair. This was probably the most anyone on the isle had seen Frollo for some time. During this walk Clayton did not try to break free but instead taunted the man, spilling everything he’d learned out of the cathedral, about his discoveries about himself. And this produced perhaps what haunts him the most to this day.

“You poor foolish child, you lose yourself in the ways of the devil! No matter, as you will never be my son or my daughter. Go on, die with your fellow scum, die in irrelevance, we were the only ones who cared for you. And now no one will ever remember you.”

Those were the last thing his father said before throwing him off the side of the docks. He surely would’ve drowned if it hadn’t been for a few helpful sailors who fished him out once the judge had left.

From then on Clayton was a homeless kid, living in the streets stealing what he could. On ocasion, his father would find him and mock him, and on others, the boy would do certain things to really piss his old man off in plain view of the cathedral,

Main Verse: Between Descendants 2 and 3

Location: Isle of The Lost

Clayton didn’t really pay attention to much that was happening on Auradon, mostly because he didn’t care. He has no intention of going to Auradon, he’s comfy enough being homeless amongst villains who really couldn’t judge him, why would he wanna be homeless in boreadon and just be looked at like a freak? During this time he’s had many run ins with the various pirates in his area including Umas ship. On some occasions he works with them on some he’s actively messing with them in any way. Other than graffitiing pirate ships, he spends most of his days stealing food, trinkets, whatever he can really, and selling them or, if they’re really cool, keeps them for himself.

Secondary Verse: Post Descendants 3

Location: Auradon

For some reason, he thought it best he leave the isle of the lost and join the rest of ths VKs down in auradon. It isn’t easy for him, often being judged for being the son of, though not the most powerful, arguably the most vile villain on the isle. This wasn’t something he alien to, though it’s much more prevalent here. Along with that, getting used to the customs, housing, and an abundance of food and medicine is...good but overwhelming. His personality shifted a bit, dying down from the rebellious loud mouth, to a rather nervous child. He begins to attend school, education wasn’t exactly something he could afford on the isle, and makes some friends. And things just start going uphill from there. He joins a band, he goes to parties, he gets on T, he rushes to have the childhood he never got. And God damnit he does.

Tertiary Verses: Various

*Will add to this once I make them*

#Info #Descendants OC

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poisonivysparks · 5 years

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Apologetic {Warren Worthington III X Reader} Part Two

Part One

~Time Skip a day~

All we did the day before, was get completely wasted, laugh together, and cry about what our lives had been like before all of this shit happened.

I found out that he had an extremely tough outside, and an incredibly sweet inside.

"Ugh, I have such a bad hangover right now." I complained as he lifted me onto the rafters with him.

"You wanna get drunk again?" He said, waving the bottle towards me.

"Hell yeah!" I snatched the bottle from his hand and took a swig.

We sat there drinking for a little while, trying to ease our headaches.

Warren was sitting with his shirt off, and me also with my shirt off, but with a bra on.

Suddenly, people appeared in a purple portal and Warren yelled, "Verpiss dich*! Or should I say, piss off!"

He flew down to one of the lower bars of the rafters and broke one of the empty bottles we had as I followed him down, jumping instead of flying since I didn't have wings.

"Are you sure these two are the ones?" A chick with white hair said with a strange accent.

"They used to be. I didn't know his wings were..." A chick with black hair trailed off as Warren looked at her harshly. "Let's get out of here. Their fighting days are done." I hated her already.

"No they're not." The weird ass blue guy said.

Warren jumped down and groaned, his wings obviously still hurting. "What the hell is this?" I jumped down after him, landing a little behind him.

"I want to give you something." The blue guy said.

"There's nothing you can give me that I want." He turned around to me, and took a swig of the booze he had in his hand as I took a swig of mine.

"Yes there is." The blue guy outstretched his hand as Warren bent back in pain, dropping the bottle of booze as he did.

He screamed as I called out to him. "Warren!" I tried to run and help him, but the chick with the black hair grabbed me with these burning hot, but freezing cold, purple things from her hands.

Tears blurred my vision as I was held back and Warren screamed in pain. He gasped and groaned in pain as metal enclosed his once beautiful, feathery wings. It was extremely bloody and feathers went everywhere.

He kept screaming, which made tears stream down my face in pure sadness. It looked like it was killing him.

He gasped, started to pant, and fell to the floor.

"Rise, my angel." The blue guy said, his hand outstretched, Warren obliged. "Rise."

Warren grunted and metal feathers sprung out, barely missing me. "Shit!" I hissed.

The chick I hated chuckled and he did it again, the other side this time. Warren's fists clenched and he spread his new wings. They were beautiful, but not as beautiful as his old ones.

The black haired chick let me go and the blue guy turned to me, "Your turn, my darling." He outstretched his hand.

A searing pain started in my chest, and spread throughout my entire body, making me double over and scream.

"Y/n!" Warren yelled, held back by the chick's powers, just like I was.

I tried to shield myself, but it caused a lot more pain, and caused the shield to pop like a bubble.

I screamed until my throat was raw, and the horrific process was complete.

I stood up, and made one of my shields around Warren, it was f/c and felt a lot stronger than before.

My hands were covered in inky shit that had crawled up my arms like paint, drops everywhere.

"Holy shit." Warren and I said at the same time.

I took it off of him and tried to make one in the air, surprisingly, it worked.

"Woah! Can I sit on this?" I looked at Warren, and he just shrugged.

I brought it down to my level and sat on it. I giggled as Warren chuckled, crossing his arms.

I made it fly all around the warehouse, giggling like a child as I did.

"You're a complete and utter child, Y/n." He told me as I landed it next to him.

"I know." I smiled at him as we flew over to them.

The girl with white hair chuckled at my actions, "I am Ororo Monroe." She extended her hand out towards me.

I shook her hand and said, "Y/n L/n." I smiled. "They used to call me Bubble in the arena."

"Bubble? I never knew your name in the arena was Bubble." Warren said, slinging his arm over my shoulder.

"Yeah, well maybe you should've paid attention to other people's fights." I shrugged my shoulders, trying to get his arm off of me.

"I get it, I was a complete and total dick to you." He took his arm off of my shoulder.

"You're still a dick." I shot at him, smiling.

~A Tiny Ass Time Skip~

We teleported to who knows where, a purple bubble, similar to mine, engulfed us.

We teleported behind a man who was making the ground shake, but it stopped once he saw us

He stared us down for a while, until he said, "Who the fuck are you?" He had a distinct English accent.

Blue guy stepped forwards and new guy said, "Stay back. Whoever you are, don't try to stop me from killing these men."

Blue guy cocked his head as the men behind new guy dropped down into the ground, and they screamed, their limbs that were sticking out twitching.

Blue guy stepped closer to the new guy and said, "I'm not here for them. I'm here for you." Blue guy turned around and walked towards us, back into the newly formed portal. "Come and see." He beckoned.

The black haired chick took us to a weird ass place, landing us in a chain-link fence type thing.

The wind whistled in my ears as I shivered from the cold, thunder booming in the distance.

The new guy looked around as if he recognized the place.

"This is where your power was born, and this is where your people were slaughtered." Blue guy told him.

The new guy went real close to a badly bent gate, it was twisted and mangled.

He shook his head, "You shouldn't have brought me here."

~Time Skip to after they Get Charles~

I stood next to Warren on a dune, the hot sand of the Egyptian desert between my toes.

The man that we had kidnapped was passed out on the sand and I honestly felt bad for him, we had taken him from his home.

He was certainly handsome, but not my type.

I started to search his mind and I suddenly heard 'Could you maybe stop searching my mind. It's rude to read somebodies mind without their permission.' I jumped a bit as Warren looked at me worriedly.

'Shit... I'm so sorry.' I apologized, leaving my face unmoving.

'It's alright, my dear. I can tell you have a good heart.' He had a very strong British accent.

'Thank you. I'm going to apologize in advance for my friends' actions. My friend Warren, he's the one with gigantic metal wings ,I apologize for his actions especially.' I really did not want to fight this man, he seemed like a nice, genuine and honest person.

'You have no need to apologize, Y/n.'

The man opened his eyes, groaning and sitting up.

"You're blocking me, how?" He asked, pitching the bridge of his nose.

"I can shield their minds from your power." Blue said as I just shrugged. "It's one of the many gifts I've acquired throughout the millennia, but to see inside a mind, to control it. That's your gift." I could see inside minds, but I definitely not control them, that must've been an amazing power. "You saw it, didn't you? The glory of what's to come."

"You're going to take part in all this killing and destruction?" He looked at the new guy, whose name I learned was Magneto.

"It's all I've ever known." Magneto said.

"No, it isn't! You've just forgotten." Mind-Reader said harshly at first, but getting softer at the end.

"No, Charles, I remember. Your way doesn't work." Magneto said harshly, they obviously had a prior friendship that went sour.

"I've shown him a better way. A better world." Blue said.

"No, you've just tapped into his rage and pain. That's all you've done." Charles said. "I told you from the moment I met you, there is more to you Erik. There's good in you, too."

"Whatever it is you think you saw in me, Charles, I buried it, with my family." Erik/Magneto said harshly.

~Tiny Time Skip~

Blue was making Charles tell everybody in the world a message that Blue was feeding to him.

"Hear me inhabitants of this world. This is a message. A message to every man, woman, and mutant in the world. You have lost your way, but I have returned. The day of reckoning is here. All your buildings, all of your towers and temples will fall, and the dawn of a new age will rise, for there is nothing you can do to stop what is coming. This message is for one reason alone. To tell the strongest among you, those with the greatest power," Charles said.

"This earth will be yours." Blue said.

"Protect those without." Charles said, boldly. "That is my message to the world."

"Uh-huh." Blue said, obviously disappointed.

~Tiny, tiny time skip~

"This was meant to be the center of the universe before I was betrayed." Blue said, looking out to the city of Cairo. "Now, it will be." He raised his hands up as people could be heard screaming, and sand rushed towards us, making a pyramid type thing. The making of the pyramid was beautiful, but the deaths of all those innocent people, weighed down on my heart.

He made a helmet in the process and gave it to Erik, "A gift from the past you left behind and the future that lies ahead. You will reach down, my son. Deep into the earth." Charles glared at them. "Rip everything they've built from the ground. Wipe clean this world and we will lead those that survive into a better one."

"And me? Am I to play a role in this madness?" Charles said.

"You have the most important role of all."

~Time skip to battle because this Is getting really long and it's 1 am~

Right before the battle, I kissed Warren's cheek. It was a spur of the moment type thing. I wasn't sure if he liked me, but I was pretty sure that I liked him.

Shit was flying all around us, making me constantly have one of my bubbles around me, because I did not want to get hit.

Charles was at the middle of the pyramid, being strapped down so Blue could transfer into him.

I didn't want anything to happen to Charles, he was a good person, trying to bring the best out in people. I just couldn't stand people getting hurt.

I was up in the sky, ready to protect anybody who needed help, my side or not.

There were six people down there, three blue people. Two of the six people went towards Erik, while three went towards the pyramid, and one, the big, furry blue guy looked up and saw me.

I smiled and waved at him as he just furrowed his eyebrows.

Warren was nowhere to be seen at the moment, so I went closer to the ground so I could see everybody better.

Warren suddenly appeared out of nowhere flying towards the four that weren't with Erik. He blasted some of his razor sharp feathers at them. The redhead brought up some slabs of rock to protect them as I put my shield up on all four of them.

The guy, who I recognized as Nightcrawler, teleported somewhere and Warren zoomed into the pyramids.

The three left all ran to the pyramid, but got stopped by Ororo, her coming down from the sky, lightning crackling in her hands. A dust storm rose from the ground, blowing a car their way, nearly missing them.

The furry guy stopped it before it hit me.

"Thanks." I said.

"You tried to help us, didn't you?" He said as a kid, who looked strangely familiar, took off his red glasses and lasers shot out.

"I'm kind of in between. My best friend is on the evil side, which I'm supposed to be on, but I don't agree with anything that they're saying." I explained, quickly as he threw the car back at Ororo, but the chick I hated stopped it from hitting her.

"Well, thanks for helping... Hank" I smiled as I skimmed his mind, just looking for his name.

Ororo was making lightning rain everywhere as I flew away, protecting Hank as I did.

They were splitting them up. I ended up popping my bubble and running with the redhead.

"Professor..." She mumbled.

"Charles?" I asked.

"Yeah. Aren't you on Apocalypse's side?" She asked, looking at me warily.

"In between. I just don't want anybody to get hurt." I told her. "I'm Y/n, by the way."

"Jean." She said curtly.

"I can protect everybody, y'know." I told her, looking outside. "Oh shit, Warren and Nightcrawler are going at it."

"How do you know his name?" She asked, crouching behind a table.

"Fighting, I was up next against the victor between Warren and Nightcrawler." I told her as Warren got knocked out by Nightcrawler.

"Oh..." She said, trailing off. "Oh God, we're losing him."

Nightcrawler came and took Jean, not even knowing I was there.

"I guess I'll go get Warren." I grumbled, flying off towards where I saw him last.

He groaned as I approached.

"You okay, Warren?" I asked as he pried the metal grate off of him.

"I'm fine, don't fucking worry." He said harshly, flying off.

I knew I shouldn't have kissed him, I lost my only friend from the last five years.

"I'm sorry..." I whispered, flying off towards the good guy's jet.

I got there before Warren did, and they let me in.

"I'm on your guys' side now, you okay with that?" I asked as Hank and Jean nodded.

"She's good, she's been protecting us." Hank vouched for me from the pilot's seat.

"Thank you, Hank." I smiled as we lifted off.

Jean was tending to Charles' wound on the side of his head as I sat there, knowing I knew the guy with glasses from somewhere.

"What the hell was that?" A woman from the pilots' seat said as the black haired girl's blades cut through the ceiling.

We all looked at it in fear, afraid we'd all die.

"Everyone, grab hold of Nightcrawler!" Jean yelled as I grabbed one of his three-fingered hands.

"I've never done it with this many people." Nightcrawler said, distressed.

"Get us out of here." Jean said.

Everybody grabbed him as Warren jumped inside, looking at me with betrayal in his eyes.

I mouthed an "I'm sorry" to him as glasses grabbed a hold of my hand.

Jean made the plane go completely vertical, and Warren slide to the back.

Kurt grunted as Jean yelled at him, "Kurt hurry! Kurt!"

The alarm started to blare as we flickered between the plane and a house.

We got into the house fully, Kurt passing out when we did.

Warren.

"I'm sorry! I have to go help Warren!" I yelled and flew out to where the plane crashed.

His body was almost crushed by the plane, his heart barely beating.

"Oh God, oh God, I'm so sorry Warren. I love you and now you're dying and I can't help you." Tears flowed down my face, my heart breaking into a million little pieces.

"I'm so, so, so, sorry, Warren. I should've protected you, it's all my fault!" I started violently sobbing, moving all of the debris off of him.

"Why does everything I love get taken away from me?" My tears soaked his armor and his eyes were closed.

I sobbed over his body as a horrible battle raged on behind me.

I ended up passing out over his body, tear tracks staining my cheeks.

"Y/n? Y/n?" I heard, waking up from my unconscious state.

"Hmm?" I lifted my head, not thinking about Warren for a moment.

"Are you okay?" Jean was in front of me.

"N-not really." I sniffled taking one look at Warren and crying again.

"We can try and take care of him, get him some medical help, Mr. McCoy has some medical training." She told me.

"I doubt he'll make it, though." I had no hope, life had taken everything I loved away from me, why would it give me a break now?

"I bet he'll make it, Y/n. You need to have hope. Mr. McCoy will do everything he can." She told me, rubbing my back.

"What's her problem?" Glasses walked up behind us.

"Shut up, Scott. Her best friend is dying." Something clicked in my brain.

"Scott, Scott, Scott, Scott, I know that name." I mumbled to myself, thinking back to my childhood. "Summers?"

He looked at me and furrowed his eyebrows, "How do you know my name?"

"We were neighbors and best friends until I disappeared at the end of seventh grade." I told him, standing up.

"Holy shit! I wondered what happened to you, you just disappeared one day and I never saw you again." He said.

"I was captured and forced to fight in deadly mutant battles for five years. I was broken out a few days ago, and found Warren in an abandoned warehouse. We became best friends." I said, a few tears leaking out.

"My God, that must've been horrible."

"I need to get Warren to Mr. McCoy, please help me get him over there, you guys." I pleaded, looking down at his unconscious body.

Jean easily lifted him up with her mind, bringing him over to Hank.

"Thank you, Jean." I told her as she set Warren down carefully.

"Wait, didn't he try to kill us?" Scott brought up as Hank checked him over.

"He didn't know what he was doing. His wings were completely ruined, Blue gave him new wings and he was blinded by power." I told him, slumping my shoulders a bit.

"Well, good news. He's not dead, still breathing, normal heartbeat, but he's got a concussion and he could be in a coma, or just knocked out." Hank explained as I touched one of his metal feathers, cutting my finger, but feeling no pain.

"Surprisingly, the jet only suffered minor exterior damages." The red haired woman came over to us. She looked at me and stuck her hand out. "I'm Moira MacTaggert."

"I'm Y/n L/n, nice to meet you." I shook her hand, my eyes still red and my cheeks puffy.

"Nice to meet you too. I hope your friend gets better soon." She smiled in a motherly way.

"T-thank you." I stuttered.

~Time skip~

I went home with everybody, Jean and Erik rebuilding a beautiful mansion when we got there.

Warren was immediately sent to a sick bay, and I was at his side the whole time, never leaving his side.

Ororo had also come with us, comforting me the whole way, along with Jean.

Warren had been asleep for two weeks so far, not even a twitch.

"Please wake up, Warren. I miss you, I mean, I love you. You're my best friend, one of my only friends. God, I love you." I mumbled the last part, putting my head in my hands on his bed.

I heard a groan from beside me.

"Warren?" I asked, hope evident in my voice.

"What do you want, traitor." He said, harshly.

"We were on the losing side, Warren." I told him, my voice becoming small. "We lost, Psylocke ran away, Ororo and Erik are here, and you almost died."

"Wait, where the hell am I?" He asked, sitting up and groaning.

"We're somewhere outside of New York." I told him, looking down.

We sat in an awkward silence for a little bit until he noticed the numerous cuts on my fingers.

"What the hell do you do to your hand?" He asked, taking my hand in his.

"Nothing." I said curtly, yanking my hand away.

"Did you cut your hand on my wings?" He asked, his eyes softening.

"I might've." I looked down at my shoes as he stood up, groaning.

"You're an idiot, Y/n." He hugged me and kissed the top of my head.

"I know." I smiled up at him as he moved his face closer to mine. I was incredibly anxious, was he going to kiss me?

He crashed his lips into mine, pulling my shirt to get me closer.

It was passionate and hopeful, and our lips molded together as if they were one. His arms slithered around my waist as my hands found their way to his golden blonde hair.

Footsteps were heard behind us, but we paid them no mind.

"Y/n, you should pro- oh." Scott said from the doorway.

I waved him off as me and Warren broke away, needing air.

"When you kissed me the other day, I didn't know what to do, so I was just resenting you, and when you joined their side, I felt like I had been betrayed. My heart broke." He admitted, brushing a stray piece of hair behind my ear.

"I thought you died, Warren. I passed out crying on your chest in Cairo. Jean, the redheaded girl, she comforted me on the way home. Hank said you had a concussion and you were either passed out or in a coma. I stayed here the whole time you were passed out." Tears freely flowed down my face as he wiped them away.

"God, I love you."

Masterlist

#X-Men #X-Men Apocalypse #x-men x reader #X-men oneshot #warren worthington x reader #warren worthington iii #warren worthington imagine #angel #angel x reader #nightcrawler #cyclops #x-men apocalypse spoilers!!!

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