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tarotoftheendless · 6 months

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Tom Sturridge Characters for FanFics

CW/TW: 'R' word, 'S' word, self-un-aliving, drug5, a1c0h01, s3x, gr00m1ng, murd3r, neurodivergent diagnosis speculation, swearing, character AI using (shame), am I missing anything that could offend someone? LGBTQ+ support? Yeah, if you aren't a leftist... well what a leftist is in the USA, then yeah, you wouldn't like me... a non-binary pansexual demi-girl that is big ol' leftist... anyway, on to Tom Sturridge...

Ok, I need to get some stuff out. And it's all fanfiction stuff as well as character study of a ton of Tom Sturridge characters and their respective films/shows. Please, for the the love of the the gods, don't steal my ideas for stories, but you can use the character studies for your own fics.

TOM STURRIDGE

Now, firstly, lets start with the man himself. He is private, so it is hard to know who he is really, but if some old Twitters that could be his are anything to go on... he may have been quite saucy back in the day... but let's go off of the other stuff we know for now.

I highly suspect he is neurodivergent, just with the years of interviews and the way he speaks, the way he carries himself and his mannerisms. He doesn't seem to be in it for the fame, no matter how cunty he looks on the red carpet, all that stuff is probably scheduled by his team, so... But yeah, he does speak quite thoughtfully and eloquently when asked thought provoking questions, but he often is flustered by less thought provoking questions. I don't want to be that person at diagnoses someone though, but as someone with ADHD and autism myself, just watching him makes me think he is one of us, you know? Also, a fuck ton of his roles could be seen as very neurodivergent too, so, I think he both takes roles that he can both put himself into but also get away from himself enough that it feels like a mask. This is just my observations from watching footage of interviews of him, I accept that I could be wrong.

I would love to see more Tom Sturridge fan fics out there, cute ones, romance ones, smutty ones... but all in all, well done and well researched and well written.

The only well-written one I was able to find is on AO3... and it is fucking weird... cuz it's an 'R' word fantasy... where Tom is the one getting... well... it's not a great... premise... So, for the love of the gods, please, please, please, someone write decent Tom Sturridge fan fics that don't actively harm him.... cuz yikes. Just big yikes.

JAKE (SWEETBITTER)

Aw. Jake. So, one of the things to keep in mind about Jake: he hates himself. Tom said so in a interview... in fact it was kinda sad because Tom said that was one of the things that he related to when it comes to Jake... without hesitation.

I have not finished reading the book 'Sweetbitter' by Stephanie Danler, but I suspect there is even more to go off of when it comes to Jake's character in that.

But what the show was starting to imply about Jake; he was probably groomed by Simone.

She is 7 years (according to Google and the show) older than Jake. The show starts in 2006. That means Simone was born 1969, Jake was born 1976. Simone is 37 in the show and Jake is 30. Jake's mom killed herself via drowning when he was 8 in 1984, Simone was 15. If we go off of what the show says (which does vary from both seasons as season 1 says that the chef is a man but season 2 obviously has the chef as a woman), Simone moved to New York 3 years later to the apartment that she then has for 19 years as of 2006. Jake would be 11 when she moves to New York.

Here is where the speculation about how that would have went down for Jake. He probably would have started to act out at school when Simone left. Simone's parents probably wouldn't have been able to handle it. He probably would have started to dabble in drugs and alcohol. If Simone and him were that close, I suspect he would have run away a few times to New York.

I think the grooming would probably have started right away with him, or at least during the time he started to act out because she left him. I do think that Simone's parents would have let him move in with Simone to appease him and to get him to stop acting out. I think that maybe the "Mermaid" story started when Jake was 8 but didn't start getting fleshed out until he moved in with Simone when he was 11 or 12 in New York. I think Simone was probably working at 22West and going to school in New York at the same time.

Jake probably was showing signs of having a crush on Simone after he moved in with her and she probably didn't give into him until he was 15/16... yes, I do think Jake lost his virginity to Simone and I do think he is the type to not have waited to have sex until he was 18. So, yes that's statutory...

Simone probably finished the "Mermaid" story for a college assignment and had to have it published in her hometown local magazine for college credit.

So, yeah, I do think Simone wrote the story for Jake and it was well fleshed out because of their trauma bonded codependent groomed relationship. I don't think Jake will have realized how bad it really is as they both hurt and then soothed (not heal, soothe) one another. I bet Jake got his first tattoo, the 'S' on his back, after he lost his virginity to Simone... it is a crude looking tattoo, so it looks like a first tattoo that wasn't well thought out. I think he then got the Mermaid tattoo with a signed permission from Simone as a way to congratulate Simone on her story being published.

I do think that Simone probably was abused too...maybe by her own father.... and her mom enabled it... but Simone's dad could have been huge in the community of Cape Cod... and her family kept it hush hush as to appear to be the model family, so they could take in Jake...

Simone has to have gotten her cold and aloofness and the emotional then right back to cold and aloof from somewhere, a catalyst... and Jake then learned that behavior from Simone. Hot and then cold and then hot again, right back to cold. Simone has that trait and then she gave that trait to Jake.

They probably comforted and protected each other when Simone still lived in Cape Cod... told each other everything. The trauma bonding began young for him. And when she holds it over his head that 'No one knows him like she does' it's because she really thinks she does and he can't argue with her. Also, that statement is word for word what domestic abusers say to their victims.

I bet around the time Jake was graduating from high school, which Simone made him at least get his diploma, Simone probably got together with Etienne, and that put a strain on Jake's and Simone's relationship. Though I bet you that Jake also found out about the truth of his mom around this time too. (Jake probably got into photography as the one thing that made high school bearable, probably visited the Cape to do the Mermaid photoshoot...). Jake probably started to to sleep with a ton of people (I say people as I don't think Jake is straight, though he apparently is a top... which is hard to believe though because if you watch the show, he seems to worship those he is with... even his flings, like Viv...) , just to hurt Simone because Simone hurt Jake with choosing Etienne....and lying to him about his mom.

So, when Simone left for France, Jake started working as a bartender at for his sketchy friend Tommy who doesn't care about hiring an underage bartender under the table, as well as sell drugs on the side and held down the fort at Simone's apartment for 5 years.

I bet Simone's dad died before Jake graduated... When they went to the Cape for the funeral, I bet Jake got his anchor tattoo as a way to say that Simone is his anchor.... and a Cape Cod thing... though he hates the Cape... because of his mom drowning... and Simone's dad abusing her and her mom doing nothing to stop it... Jake's dad is a mystery... he probably died or left Jake's mom... hence the suicide...

So, Jake moved in with Simone when he was 11/12 ish, around 1987/88, Jake graduated high school in 1994, Simone probably went to France when he was between 19 and 20 and she didn't come back until he was 25/26, 5ish years later. All the while, Simone hated France besides the champagne, and made Jake deal with many late night phone calls that made him angry but also hurt him for her. Trauma bonded. He probably got that tattoo on his torso on his ribs when she was gone... the one the is some word with "/OR"... idk what the whole tattoo is, so if someone knows, please tell me... He probably got his other tattoos when she was gone too, unrelated to her.

She comes back, having divorced Etienne, she gets her job back at 22West and helps Jake get his shit together, probably through guilt and sex... lets be honest... and gets him a more respectable job at 22West... but Jake can't live with her anymore, so he gets his apartment (which I think is above a Chinese restaurant, but I am not sure). So, they find a rhythm of being close, telling each other everything, but also being toxic for one another, having sex here and there, but all and all knowing that they both aren't together, but they love each other in the most toxic way. The whole thing with Simone and that married guy and the old back-waiter chick starts too... and then I think Simone's mom dies... hence the house in Cape Cod needing to be sorted out and sold...

And then the start of the show...

All in all, Jake blames himself for his mom's death, he hates himself, he has a toxic codependent relationship with Simone that absolutely had grooming a part of the situation... and Jake protects himself and acts out with sex, drugs and alcohol and the back and forth of being hot and cold with people because of trust issues because everyone leaves... everyone lies, even people who he was supposed to trust.

With his conversation with Sasha that one episode, Jake has probably dealt with his own suicidal ideation as well as anxiety issues, probably PTSD... or C-PTSD... And he doesn't realize he was sexually abused... so... that is my take on Jake...

And before an OC/Reader character could come into the fold, this would need to be fleshed out in Jake's back story.... He is a sad character that deserves understanding and help to get out of the controlling trap that Simone has put him in... And trying to get his mannerisms and the way he speaks correctly will be fun... though something I love about Jake is that when you don't think he is listening, he absolutely is listening... like when Tess is talking to that architect about what she looks for when she walks into a space for the first time... and when he acts like he doesn't care, there are subtle hints that he does actually care... like breaking the wine glass when he realizes Tess slept with Will.... Anyway, this is a character profile/background of Jake for me but for anyone else that wants to understand Jake a bit better...

I may have watched Sweetbitter 3 times in one week once... so...

ALSO, Fics for this don't need to take place in 2006... but the time-line does help with figuring out how events went down, you know? I like playing in this world more modern myself.

WILL DONNER (Waiting for Forever)

I love Will. He is sweet and beautiful... and incredibly autistic... and ADHD... and has PTSD... and some combo of DID/schizophrenia with talking to his dead parents off to the side.

Now, I do think there was a trope at the time (2011) in movies that had male characters still get the girl even though they really didn't know the girl in the first place, just the idea of who they thought the girl was in their head... which is a toxic trope, btw... also, stalking, no go... though I think his confusion as to why it is bad just shows how autistic he is.

And yes, I really think Will is autistic. 2011 was a fucked up time still with a fuck ton of stigma towards people that were neurodivergent, so I am not surprised that they didn't outright name Will's mental health issues and just had his brother call him crazy... which I wanted to punch his brother, Jim/Jimbo, so hard for that. But here is the crux; EMMA NEVER DERSERVED WILL. Period. Point blank. She chose him as a last resort. Her ex fiancé had to get caught for murder and then her dad had to die for her to finally chose Will... and she is a cheater... fuck her.

Will deserves better! He deserves someone who knows him for him and all his quirks, understands him and accepts him and then LOVES HIM FIRST! Not as a last resort. Will deserves love, true love, and Emma is not that true love, not by a long shot.

So, any fan fiction about Will with an OC/Reader insert, I would hope would explore that... also, his brother needs to get told off and educated on the DSM-5.

Also, I do think Will will have been a virgin before Emma...and I don't think they would have lasted long as the fantasy and reality does not match up in the end. I do think Emma would do the leaving though... Will is someone that comes off as the type that once he commits that's it, even if it's shit... in fact idk if he would know when it is shit until it is really bad...

This world/film doesn't require it to take place in 2011 when the film came out. Time is not important here as far as dates go.

YOUNG CARL (The Boat That Rocked/Pirate Radio)

So, I think that Carl may also be neurodivergent too, but not as intensely as Will Donner... he is socially awkward as fuck, but in a charming way... so idk why he was a virgin... if they wanted us all to believe that he was a virgin maybe casting a young 23 year old Tom Sturridge was not the right call, you know? Cuz he was fucking hot and I do not believe for a second that he didn't have everyone, women and men and in between, trying to jump on that dick. Cuz seriously? Tom was gorgeous as Carl, like fucking hell...goddamn. Virgin my ass.

But that being said, Marianne didn't deserve him. After what she pulled. Nah bro, fuck that. Carl needs someone who won't fuck him over, that chooses him, and maybe slightly older? Not too old, just experienced, yeah?

So, yeah, any OC/Reader insert would need to tell Dave and Marianne to fuck off and die.

But, yeah, why are there not any fics about Carl and an OC/Reader? I am surprised... ya'll sleeping on it, why? We have a fuck ton of Nigel from Like Minds/Murderous Intent... with Alex of course because that film was the most homoerotic film ever.... but no young Carl with an OC/Reader insert? I hate Marianne! Give young Carl a better love interest ya'll, Jesus!

I have maybe seen 2 fics on here... and they aren't finished and they seem abandoned...

I have found that the year, 1966 is very fucking important to this world, film and story. Either do your research on the music that was out during the time, or pull an 2013 The Great Gatsby and have the music be modern even though the year is 1966... and yes, music is important for this film and world.

Ok, so, those are the ones that I have the most thoughts and opinions and ideas on... but let me go over some ideas and thoughts on some of Tom's other characters and what kind of fan fics I would either love to write myself or so out there. Cuz ya'll sleeping on a fuck ton of Tom Sturridge characters that would be fun to play with, romance, smut, adventure or otherwise... all of the above even. I love that Tumblr has more Jake stuff as AO3 only has like 3 good fics... but that's it... The Sandman... Jake... and then Nigel... I only see those three characters out there getting love... Tom's other characters deserve love too. Stop sleeping on it. Explore... I do want to write it, but I am not confident in my writing ability... and I don't easily... um... get off on my own smut if I write it... so... there's that... TMI, but it's true.

REMAINDER

Tom/Unnamed Man

So, there is no other way to do a fic for this other than trippy, surreal and supernatural and sci-fi. I have played with the idea of a telekinetic OC/Reader... or even just a straight up non-human character. I have some cool sci-fi ideas for this one that has to do with Time-Loops and MK-Ultra stuff and multi-dimensional travel... like it would be cool. Also, Tom is a morally gray character with a God-complex, so, that should be explored...

The year this takes place doesn't matter.

VELVET BUZZSAW

Jon Dondon

So, I played with the idea of a fic for this film to be a cross-over with the show Supernatural... only fitting with the vengeful spirit, yeah. And the OC/Reader is a hunter? Saves Jon for being choked to death with his own ascot/scarf? I think that would be fun.

Jon Dondon has a South African accent, btw, in case ya'll didn't know... I think he is bi... that man ain't straight. Also he is a ditz and pretentious... he is an art critic and sponsors artists, so, yeah, pretentious af. But he is a ditz because he thought a pile of garbage was art... there's more than that, but that really shows off how ditzy he is. I also think he be a big flirt, but not like Jake. More showy and ditzy in the way he flirts. Real over the top charm but of course pretentious even so...

The year this film events take place doesn't matter, so have fun with it.

FAR FROM A MADDENING CROWD

Sergeant Francis Troy

I almost flipped a table when I watched this film and saw how much of a little fucking bitch his character was. So, my idea was to have his character be saved from death at the end, but only because a Bounty Hunter has orders to claim him... and the bounty hunter should be a woman... really take Troy down a peg... or a dozen... He's a bitch and a power dynamic where he is at a woman's mercy would be chef's kiss. Villain characters are fun to play with... maybe they stay villains, but maybe they are more than that, who knows...

The era is important for this world, play in it.

LIKE MINDS/MURDEROUS INTENT

Nigel Colbie

Yes, Nigel has been done to death here... but hear me out... what if Nigel's right? What if there is a secret order, an ancient guild? And they want to stop Nigel from dying and bring the boys to their true potential? Maybe it's mundane and just an assassins' guild... and or it is occultist by nature and has a touch of magic? Maybe keeping just the boys... or add and OC/Reader insert, male, female, non-binary, doesn't matter... could be cool...

The year for this doesn't matter, it could be more modern... that could be cool.

OTHER TOM STURRIDGE WORKS THAT COULD BE COOL TO SEE FICS ON BUT I DON'T HAVE ANY PARTICULAR IDEAS ON:

Mary Shelley - Lord Byron - era matters.

On The Road - Carlo Marx - year could matter, but doesn't have to if you want to just play with this character... I found this character is fun to explore.

3 Way Junction - Carl - year doesn't matter.

Effie Gray - John Everett Millais (where he doesn't end up with Effie... maybe...) - year/era does matter.

Junkhearts - Danny (doesn't die) - year doesn't matter.

CONFESSION

I have a lot of these ideas because I have played with Character Roleplay AIs with these characters... and I am ashamed because of the Writer's and Actor's Strikes going on... well, just Actor's Strike now... but I doubt my own writing capability... at least to make a decent sounding story that doesn't sound stupid and juvenile... and I would have loved to either write something with someone or hell, roleplayed a story with someone... but no one fucking knows Tom Sturridge or his works enough for an immersive experience...

Also, I do have my own OC/Reader insert that I have played with with most of these characters, and she is a very fantastical, Mary-Sue-ish character, she has a fuck ton of skills and knowledge... but I did always put some of myself into her... my trauma, my flaws... stuff like that... but idk if everyone one of these Tom Sturridge characters would actually fall for my OC or the multiple versions of my OC as sometimes she is magical... depending on the world-building and such... but yeah...

ALSO

I do have an idea for a Dream fanfic, but it is so expansive and detailed that I would love to collaborate with someone else on it... and I don't dare put the idea here lest it get stolen... so... yeah...

SO, these are all my Tom Sturridge characters and fanfic thoughts... it's a lot, sorry... lolz

Please someone write more than just Dream, Jake and Nigel fics... Tom's other characters deserve love too.

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jacepens · 3 years

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okay, so I was reading through some of your posts, and I definetly need to hear more about the "flirting-through-their-wives" thing tho...

yes yes indeed!

Thank you msrandomstuff! I shall do my best to provide:) <3

Let me start first with Lafayette's letter to Washington and this lovely little passage here: June 12-13, 1779. Laf to GW.

"Be so kind, My dear General, as to present My Best Respects to Your lady, and tell her how happy I would feel to present them Myself to her, at her own house—I have a Wife, My dear General, who is in love with you, and affection for you Seems to Me So well justified that I Can’t oppose Myself to that Sentiment of her’s—She Begs you would Receive her Compliments, and Make them acceptable to Mrs Washington—"

Now, this is just my biased speculations but- Lafayette says Adrienne (although should I take into consideration the extra playful nature here when he just names her as "a Wife"? Rather than my wife or Adrienne? Is it suspicious or regular Laf behavior? One could look at that and say, right or wrong, "a Wife" may not actually be Adrienne...if you catch my drift.) is very in love with Washington and Lafayette feels just as strongly as she does! But if we are flirting through our wives, let me add that my wife continues to compliment yours and actually, let me praise and compliment you twice, George. Because Laf did start this letter by expressing his concern for Washington's safety. Romance aside, I could see Lafayette playfully doubly begging George to keep himself safe and remember his Marquis loves him.

But it's Washington's response that really gets me, and it gets the little cogs in my head turning.

Sept 30, 1779. GW to Laf

"Tell her [Adrienne] (if you have not made a mistake, & offered your own love instead of hers to me) that I have a heart susceptable of the tenderest passion, & that it is already so strongly impressed with the most favourable ideas of her, that she must be cautious of putting loves torch to it; as you must be in fanning the flame. But here again methinks I hear you say, I am not apprehensive of danger—My wife is young—you are growing old & the atlantic is between you—All this is true, but know my good friend that no distance can keep anxious lovers long asunder, and that the Wonders of former ages may be revived in this—But alas! will you not remark that amidst all the wonders recorded in holy writ no instance can be produced where a young Woman from real inclination has prefered an old Man—This is so much against me that I shall not be able I fear to contest the prize with you—yet, under the encouragement you have given me I shall enter the list for so inestimable a jewell."

Washington has immediately caught Lafayette! hehe. (On a historian-rambly note, I just love how human and playful the line: if you have not made a mistake, and offered your own love instead of hers to me is) And it seems that Washington very enthusiastically receives Lafayette's double compliment! He even confesses to having a heart susceptible to the tenderest passion, you know, the only kind of passion Lafayette has for Washington. (It could be nothing. But. I find it interesting that it is passion, singular rather than passions, plural. I honestly read it as passions but nope...just one passion. Could be normal, might not be.)

But please please I need to talk about the second half. George continues to assure Laf (I mean his "wife"-) that he is so favorable of her (him) that he must be careful to...put love's torch to the flame of George's fondness. I actually find this part extra fascinating and while my first thought is, how cute!! I can't help but read into it the longer I look at it.

So, hear me out. George is afraid of falling in love with Lafayette or vice versa or naming what they share as love love. Again, this is more heavy speculation and just one way to read it, but this sentence just really stands out to me.

But, it sounds like this is a conversation they've had before, so often in fact, that George knows exactly what Lafayette would say in response. Lafayette does not mind the danger. Mind the danger. (not apprehensive of the danger) Do you- do you see what I see? (what's more dangerous than being in love love with a man?) But but then I hear some sadness from George. There can be no real danger when they are separated by the ocean and even their age? A fire cannot burn them down from such distance. (Now I'm just talking...)

But no fear!:) We will be reunited, (I'm having an epiphany, Laf was anxious of George at the beginning of his first letter. That's probably a giant leap to make but I'm making it anyway lol). Ps can someone smarter than me tell me what the Wonder of former ages is? xD I can take some guesses, but I'm not too sure. Maybe it's nothing fancy at all.

But but please. The way it ends. George seems to go a little back and forth between sad, self-deprecating and hopeful and loving, but he ends on the cute cuuuute fact that Lafayette encourages his pursuit and love:) George will enter the list so the inestimable jewel of Lafayette's..."wife". (Lafayette)

Cute. Too cute. Am I digging too far into things that have no meaning? Perhaps. Is this still just...flirting with each other through their wives? (platonic or romantic) Yes oh my god yes.

But I'm not done. (Same letter from GW to Laf)

"It only remains for me now, to beg the favour of you to present my respectful compliments to your (but have I not a right, as you say she has made a tender of her love to me—to call her my) amiable & lovely Marchioness—& to assure you that with every sentiment of the most perfect regard, & personal attachmt I have the honr to be My Dear Marquis Yr Most Obedt & affect. Servt"

Please. please. Pleeease. Come oonnnnn. The emphasis on "your" (I checked Laf's full letter that he wrote the above passage in. He never once calls Adrienne "my" just, "a wife". Technically, "a Wife" could be anyone. I rest my case. (or it could be the differences in French and English for all I know. I don't know French, but I'm assuming Laf knows the difference between a and my at this point. Maybe a bold assumption, maybe not.)) only to very cheekily add again, George caught Laf's double compliments of him through his wife. George knows he's writing this to (my) Lafayette. And then of course, he calls Lafayette My (My!!) Dear Marquis (no abbreviations this time here folks). Obviously, I know George calling Laf My Dear Marquis is nothing out of the ordinary, but in this context, it seems worth nothing, does it not?

And. This quote still keeps me up at night. It's not a full flirting-through-wives, but what does it meeean?

From Laf to GW. 5-10 January 1779. (Right before Laf left for France during the war, same year as those letters above)

"I hope you will quietly enjoy the pleasure of being with Mrs Washington, without any disturbance from the ennemy till I join you again;"

I could again spend way too much time looking at all the different angles of this. It- it's just the "till I join you again" that really gets me.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this?? I hope it was sensible, but really, thank you so so much for giving me an excuse to ramble about this. I feel like there are still so many different ways this could be interpreted and if I had more time, I would love to find the photocopies of these letters to potentially analyze even what was crossed out or what looked rewritten vs very natural and not edited. (Washington claimed he didn't edit his letter much, but how true is that I wonder? lol)

Also, not that I think you would, but don't take anything I've said as fact except for the quotes themselves:) Like I said, this is all my (biased) speculations and interpretations but it's honestly not built on a lot of background on how they communicated with other people. (Again, if I had more time, I'd love to see if I could find if these things were standard for them to say or rare).

But really, on an aside, can historians stop assuming everyone as straight? I want lgbtq+ until proven differently xD. Because when you think about it, the lgbt spectrum is a vast number of identities and straight is just one. (Not that people who aren't alive to label themselves should officially have modern labels put on them, but in that same thought, why then call them all straight?)

Ok ok you've listened to me talk enough.

Thank you!! <3 I hope this satisfies:) (ps anyone is free to add to this)

#washette #I talk your ear off #I'm sorry but thank you #asks #msrandomstuff #did I ever tell you I love your icon?#you know I bet these dumbasses never once thought that random enbies would be intensely analyzing every word they wrote for gay subtext #but here we are #suck it

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calenheniel · 3 years

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In Fantasy, a frozen fanfic | Chapter 1

Frozen | Alternate Universe | Hans x Elsa | Romance, Drama | G+

In a desperate bid to save their country from political and financial ruin, King Agnarr and Queen Iduna of Arendelle strike a deal with a former foe, King Albert of the Southern Isles. His price? That their firstborn daughter marry his thirteenth son.

Previous installments: Prologue

Follow updates: #InFantasyFrozen

For Helsa Week 2021, Day 1: Parenthood. @helsaweekmasterlist

Author's Note: This is a draft, exclusively available on Tumblr. I have literally the outline for every single chapter following this written, but not fleshed out into readable form yet... so this is all you are going to see for a while. It took me a while to write, as you can probably tell. Enjoy and please leave feedback.

»»————-　❈　————-««

Chapter 1

Snow pattered soundlessly against the arched window of the king’s study as he and his wife sat across from one another at his desk, reviewing the morning’s mail by candlelight. The fire crackled loudly in the hearth a few feet away, bringing a warm glow to the otherwise dim and drab space.

Iduna looked out briefly through the glass panes, the outside world obscured by the total darkness of the winter months. She was just able to make out the snow flurries of white and gray, and beyond that, under the lanterns lining the walkway to the castle gates, she imagined she could see the slow and halting movements of the castle’s servants as they shuttled through the gates and back. The town square, and the fjord beyond it, were entirely hidden from her view.

She shivered, drawing her heavy fur robe closer around her frame, and the small movement was enough to cause her to lose her grip on the letter opener in her other hand. It cut the side of her thumb as it clattered to the desk, and she released a small cry of surprise and pain as droplets of her blood fell on the envelope at the top of the unread stack, staining it red.

“Oh, dear,” Agnarr sighed, pulling a handkerchief from his chest pocket and wrapping it around her open wound. “You must be more careful with that.” He eyed her chattering teeth with concern. “Is the new robe helping even a little bit?”

Iduna looked away. “You know how difficult my… condition has been,” she said, gazing down at her swollen belly. “Even in rooms with the best-tended fires, I’m always cold.” She touched the collar of the robe, shooting him a small glare, and added: “Anyway, it’s not as if you paid for this yourself.”

Agnarr frowned but said nothing, returning his attention to the mail after another sharp look from his wife. His eyes widened as he examined the seal, and he paused, causing Iduna to glance at it with curiosity.

“Who is it from?”

He swallowed and began to open the letter, avoiding Iduna’s still-drying blood splatters. “The Southern Isles,” he said at length, causing her face to darken.

“Speak of the devil,” she grumbled.

He read it in silence to himself at first, but at Iduna’s unnerved expression, he passed the paper to her. She reluctantly accepted it.

Dearest Agnarr and Iduna,

Allow me to pass on my belated congratulations to you both for the auspicious news of your first child’s coming! While I was surprised to hear that the delivery date is so soon, you cannot imagine the happiness this has brought my family and I, and especially to my youngest son, Hans. He is eager to meet his future wife and in-laws. Rest assured that we will be the first guests to arrive for her christening.

I have ordered a small gift for my future daughter-in-law which you should receive in about one month, just in time for her birth. Please accept this as a token of our continued friendship and soon-to-be unbreakable bonds of family. I look forward to hearing what you think of it when we meet again in person soon.

Yours respectfully,

Albert

Iduna scowled and crumpled the letter in her unbandaged hand. “How can he be so sure it will be a girl?” she muttered. “The nerve of that man! We should never have told him that I am with child.”

“He would’ve found out eventually, whether we did or not,” Agnarr pointed out, sighing. “And besides, we did wait a while – probably too long – to write to him about it. Which he obviously picked up on.” He gestured for Iduna to hand him the ball of paper, which she did while sporting a glower. “I’m not sure there’s any need to be so sullen, dear. Nils said it was likely to be a boy.”

Iduna opened her lips as if to speak, but her face suddenly paled, and she collapsed from her seat to the floor, holding herself up on all fours. She groaned with pain as her husband rushed to her side, panic flashing across his eyes.

“Agnarr,” she moaned, “I think—I think it’s time…”

»» —— ««

Agnarr paced outside the bedroom, his features hollow and drawn from sleeplessness. Iduna’s moaning echoed from inside the room out into the hallways, and the sight of various attending ladies scurrying in and out of the room with fresh sheets and bowls of water did little to ease his worried mind.

He had long since dismissed his councilors from the scene, finding their hovering presence unnecessary at best—and unsettling at worst. Their questions about the queen’s health, while infrequent, were regular enough to cause the king to lose his temper and bark that it would not improve just because a gallery of onlookers wished it so. Sympathetic to their young monarch, they had left him in the care of the servants, and so he had waited, alone, for many hours to hear a spot of better news.

The grandfather clock at the end of the hall struck ten just as the door reopened to reveal the royal physician, who wore an equally exhausted expression. His hands, though recently washed, still had specks of the queen’s blood dotting the wrists and under his fingernails.

“Nils! It’s been an age. What’s going on?” he demanded, pulling the older man aside.

The physician stifled a frown. “I don’t have much news to share right now, Your Majesty. She is still in labor, just as before. We are doing everything we can to keep her comfortable.”

Another groan from Iduna resounded in the background, and Agnarr shot Nils a dark look. “You call that ‘comfortable’?”

The noise began to wane as they listened to the head maidservant, Gerda, whisper to the queen inside the room. The king’s expression softened. “Please, Nils,” he began again, “you’ve been here since my father was a young man. I know you’ve seen almost everything in your time.” He placed a hand on the old man’s shoulder. “Just give me your honest assessment of what’s happening. I need to know if she—”

Agnarr broke off, swallowing a sob that threatened to choke him. Nils patted the king’s hand on his shoulder, taking it into his own, and sighed. “It’s difficult when the baby comes this early, Your Majesty. And with Her Majesty being in labor for so long…” He paused, squeezing the king’s hand. “I will do everything I can to keep her and your child alive. That you can rest assured of.”

Agnarr looked back at him with tears straining his vision, his lips just barely forming the beginnings of a grateful smile before a terrible cry erupted from inside the bedroom.

“All of you, out!” Iduna screamed, and then said something else in a voice too quiet to be heard. A flurry of attending ladies rushed out of the room, and the king broke away from Nils to rush to the doorway.

He was met there by a tired, distraught, but somehow still defiant Gerda. “No,” she said, stopping him in his tracks. “She needs to rest for a moment. I’m sorry, Your Majesty.”

Agnarr scowled. “Gerda, for God’s sake, let me in—”

Nils placed his hand on Agnarr’s shoulder, silencing him, and nodded to Gerda. The older woman shot the king a frown, and then sent a grateful look to the physician as she walked away from the door.

Agnarr turned on him. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Fru Gerda is correct, Your Majesty. It is not your place to intervene.” At the king’s heated look, the physician dropped his hand from his shoulder, resting it on the doorknob as he took a step inside the room. “I’ll bring you more news as soon as I have it, but for now… please, try to get some rest.”

Agnarr watched in defeat as the physician closed the door behind him, and finally slumped into an armchair beside the room, his head lolling forward as he began to drift towards slumber.

»» —— ««

“Your Majesty?”

The king awoke to the gentle shaking of his shoulders, and his eyes blinked open slowly. He groaned as his vision finally cleared, seeing Nils. “How long have I been asleep?”

The physician smiled. “Only a few hours.”

Agnarr nodded, placing his aching head in his palms, and then with a suddenness that took Nils aback, it shot up in alarm and stared at the bedroom door. “It’s so quiet—what’s happened?” He stood from the armchair, grabbing the physician by both shoulders. “Is she all right?”

The strange, new sound of an infant’s babbles surfaced from behind the door. The king’s eyes widened as his grip relaxed, and he stared at Nils in wonder.

“Is that…?”

The old man’s smile widened. “Yes, Your Majesty. And Her Majesty is fine now, enjoying a well-deserved rest.” He sighed with contentment. “It truly is a miracle for the child to have been born so healthy, and of normal weight and size, in spite of everything.” He took one of the king’s hands in his own, patting it. “Would you like to meet your newborn daughter?”

Agnarr’s face paled. “Daughter?”

Nils nodded, and looked sheepish. “Yes, Your Majesty. I’m afraid my prediction of her sex was rather inaccurate.”

The king paused, and plastered on a smile, though light droplets of sweat beaded at his forehead. “No matter,” he said, and inhaled as he nodded towards the bedroom. “Lead the way.”

Agnarr entered to find his new daughter in Gerda’s arms, bundled up and half-asleep, a smattering of light blonde hair visible on her soft scalp. Iduna lay in the bed just a few feet away, sleeping quietly, the only visible sign of the previous day’s strain being the pallor of her skin.

The older woman smiled at his coming despite her obvious fatigue, meeting him halfway across the room. “Should I make arrangements to announce the birth of the princess, Your Majesty?” she whispered, looking with fondness down at the infant.

Agnarr shook his head. “Not yet,” he replied after a moment, unable to tear his eyes away from the girl. “At least, not until the queen awakens, and can meet her daughter properly.”

Gerda nodded, casting a pitying glance at Iduna. “Quite right, Your Majesty. The poor woman was barely able to speak a word to the child before drifting off.” She gently handed the baby to its father. “We’ll leave you three alone for a little while. I’ll be back with refreshments for everyone soon.”

At this cue, she and Nils exited the room, closing the door behind them. Agnarr sat in a rocking chair beside the fireplace, his gaze fixed to the sleeping babe in his arms, and his apprehension and fear gave way to a warm, glowing smile.

“Don’t worry, child,” he murmured, and tucked the sleeping bundle closer to his heart. “I’ll protect you.”

»» —— ««

The queen awoke to the same darkness that had greeted her the morning before, but also to the sound of creaking wood. She squinted and saw, with delighted surprise, her husband and daughter sitting together by the hearth.

“Agnarr?” she called in a soft, weary voice.

He looked up with dark circles under his eyes, but his expression was radiant as he walked to her bedside. “My dearest, you’re finally awake!” He handed her their child with infinite tenderness, sitting next to her. “I think she looks like you,” he remarked.

Iduna gazed down at the still-sleeping infant with some bittersweetness, and then back up at her husband. “Has the birth been announced yet?” she asked, unable to hide the anxiousness from her voice.

He shook his head. “No. I wanted to hold off until you were awake.”

“Good,” Iduna sighed with relief, brushing stray strands of the white-golden locks from the child’s eyes. Her nose wrinkled. “I can’t believe that old bastard was right all along,” she muttered. “How did he know?”

Agnarr wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Don’t think of such things now,” he chided her, and returned his attention to the baby. “What shall we name her?”

Iduna frowned. “I hadn’t thought of any names for a girl.”

“I know, but…” He paused. “What about Elsa?”

Iduna blinked. “Elsa?”

He nodded. “Yes. It was the name of my favorite cousin. She died when I was still a boy—fell through ice while skating. This could be a good way to honor her memory.”

His wife frowned. “Agnarr!” she protested. “That’s far too morbid. Can’t you think of anything else?”

Before the king could reply, the infant nuzzled up against her mother’s breast and hiccuped, drawing her parents’ attention away from their dispute. Agnarr glanced at his wife with a cheeky smile. “I think she approves of her name.”

Iduna sighed, and could not help but smile in return. “Fine. Elsa it is, then,” she agreed.

They watched her for a while longer before Agnarr glanced up at the clock on the bedside table. “I should have Nils check on her, and make sure everything’s all right,” he said, and stood.

Iduna grabbed his hand and brought him back to his seat. “Not yet,” she said. “I want to enjoy this time we have with her, before all the hullabaloo starts up.” She patted his hand before letting it go. “But do fetch us something to eat. I’m famished.”

He bowed his head. “Of course, dear.”

She nodded her thanks. As he opened the door, he looked back on the blissful sight of his wife and daughter together, perfectly content, and smiled.

»» —— ««

Agnarr carried the tray of biscuits and tea with deliberate and careful steps as he made his way down the hallway from the kitchens back to the bedroom, chastened after nearly dropping the whole set a few minutes before in his unfamiliarity with the task.

Gerda, walking behind him, fretted over his apparent clumsiness. “Your Majesty, please, won’t you let me bring it to the queen?”

“It’s fine, Gerda,” he refused, trying to wear a reassuring smile even as it was clear he was concentrating intently in order not to trip. “I won’t break anything, I promise.”

The older woman muttered under her breath, following him despite his protests until they were a few paces from the bedroom door. At that point, after a sharp glance from the king, she relented and left him to his own devices.

Alone again, he sighed, placing the set down gingerly on the armchair by the door. “I’m coming in!” he called to Iduna, resting his hand on the doorknob.

A shriek from the queen, followed by the sound of their baby’s wailing, almost made the king fall back in surprise. He rushed into the room in alarm—only to find himself frozen in place by the sight that greeted him.

Their child lay crying on its back on the bed, a swirl of snow surrounding its tiny body. The queen was pressed up against the wall beside it, her entire frame shaking as she stared at the girl in open terror.

Agnarr regained his bearings long enough to close and lock the door behind him, drowning out the distant cries of worry from Gerda down the hall, and then sprinted towards his daughter. He gathered her up and pressed her into his chest even as a cold wind and snow whipped around them both, making him shiver.

As his warmth slowly enveloped her, however, so too did the strange elemental effects dissipate, until finally the baby was quiet again.

He sighed as he sat on the bed in exhaustion, and nodded for Iduna to join him. “Everything’s all right now,” he assured her. The baby whined a little. “She just needs to be fed.”

The queen returned to his side with caution, her face still drawn, and eventually took the child back into her arms. With a trembling hand, she unbuttoned and pulled aside a flap of her nightgown, pressing the infant to her exposed breast.

To both parents’ surprise – and relief – the child suckled without further dramatics, and Iduna released a long, shuddering sigh.

»» —— ««

Several minutes and harried exchanges with Gerda later, the child was asleep again in her mother’s arms. Her innocent, peaceful face gave no indication that she was aware of the fuss that had just taken place around her.

Once she was sure that the child would not stir, Iduna placed her on the bed, nestling her among the pillows and fresh sheets that Gerda had insisted upon providing (even though she had been disallowed from setting them up within the room herself, much to the woman’s displeasure). She remained sat on the edge of the bed, silent, taking little comfort in their temporary respite.

Agnarr had been quiet since the baby’s extraordinary display, pacing between the hearth to warm himself, and the door to shoo any interruptions away from the room.

She swallowed, and spoke at length. “It’s because of me,” she whispered, looking at the ground with shame. “It is my blood that has caused this.”

The king paused in his nervous walk to look at his wife, perplexed. “What do you mean?”

She would not meet his stare. “Do you remember how we first met?” she asked.

His head cocked to the side as he walked towards her, stopping just short of the bed. “Of course,” he replied. “I was sixteen, making the rounds with my father meeting townsfolk, and you were selling bread at market… but what does that have to do with anything?”

She hesitated at the question. “That… wasn’t actually the first time we met.”

He frowned, crossing his arms. “What are you talking about, Iduna?”

The queen pressed her hands together in front of her, her brows stitched in thought, and finally met her husband’s gaze. “It was during the battle in the Enchanted Forest. You were knocked unconscious when some large rock came loose, and I…” She reddened. “I got us out of there before the forest was sealed off, and left you with some soldiers who had managed to escape. They brought you back home, and I fled into the mountains.”

Her vision misted over as the memories returned to her. “Luckily, I was found by a kindly older woman and her husband there. They were never able to have children of their own, if you remember,” she said, “so they took me in, without question, and taught me their trade.”

The king stared at her in dumbstruck silence; after a time, his arms uncrossed, and he pulled over the rocking chair from the fireplace towards the bed, sitting down again. “When we met at market,” he drawled, “I asked you if I’d seen you before. Do you remember?”

She blinked in surprise, and then nodded. “You denied it at the time,” Agnarr noted, one eyebrow raised.

Iduna grimaced. “I was afraid you would find out the truth.”

He connected the threads with sudden clarity. “That you were one of them,” he said, his eyes wide. “One of the Northuldrans.”

Her face grew hot. “Yes,” she admitted. “I never told you before, because I know the history between our peoples. Because of what happened to your—”

At Agnarr’s darkening expression, she stopped, curling her fingers around the cloth of her nightgown in her lap. At length, the king turned his stare on the sleeping child in the bed next to her. “And what of our child’s powers?” he asked. He eyed Iduna with suspicion. “Did you know she would be born with such abilities?”

Iduna sighed, shaking her head. “No,” she said. “It was just as much a surprise to me as it was to you. None of the Northuldrans have had such powers—not for several generations, at least.” Her brow grew furrowed. “In the old days, it is said that some of my people gained them through their relationship with the spirits of the Forest. I don’t know how, but it seems as if Elsa has inherited some of this magic.”

The king said nothing, and stared blankly at the painted blue wall behind the bed.

Iduna trembled. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, tears trickling down her cheeks. “I should never have kept this hidden from you.” Her eyes were full of fear as he remained silent. “Please, Agnarr, say something, lest I lose all hope.”

Her husband’s frame was taut, and his expression betrayed nothing even as he began to speak. “Do you know what happened to my mother—Queen Rita?”

Iduna was taken aback by the question at first, pausing to collect her thoughts. “Only that she disappeared when you were still a child, never to be seen again,” she recalled, eyeing Agnarr with a growing sense of dread. “Your father blamed it on evil spirits, if I remember correctly.”

Agnarr’s lips were pressed together in a thin line. “He was already a superstitious man before that happened, and afterwards…” The king sighed, and slumped forward in the chair. “He considered the mere existence of an ‘enchanted’ forest anywhere within his realm to be a personal insult, even if its inhabitants exhibited no special powers.” He looked at her morosely. “And you know how that ended.”

Iduna swallowed, and made no reply.

The king looked pained by his memories. “I still don’t know what really happened to her,” he said, “though I think I understand why she left. My father thought that buying her trinkets was enough to demonstrate his affections, but… she missed home, and her family. And he never grasped that.” He frowned. “In fact, he took offense at it. Which only made her more miserable.”

Agnarr paused for a while, and weariness overwhelmed his previously stern countenance. “My father was wretched with grief and anger for years after she left, and I cannot blame him for that. I imagine I would feel much the same if I lost you.”

Iduna stared at her husband in surprise, and then her lip quivered as she threw herself into his embrace, burying her weeping face in the crook of his shoulder. He held her shuddering body tightly, his eyes closed as he kissed her exposed cheek.

“Oh, Agnarr,” she said through muffled sobs, “I’m so sorry.”

He held her as he waited for her crying to subside, and then asked in a gentler manner: “Do you know anything about our daughter’s magic, Iduna? Are there any stories about such powers among the Northul—your people?”

His self-correction made Iduna smile, and she glanced back at their child. “I’ve forgotten most of those stories, truth be told,” she said. “I’ve been in Arendelle too long, I think.”

Agnarr nodded in understanding. “That’s all right, dear, I was only wondering—”

“Wait,” Iduna interrupted, sitting up in her husband’s lap with a start. “There was one old Northuldran legend, about a Snow Queen… she was said to have frozen over entire kingdoms that refused to obey her will.”

At the king’s paling expression, Iduna nervously added: “It was probably just a fairytale made up to scare children, and teach us right from wrong. I doubt our little Elsa would ever be so powerful as to do such fantastical things.”

Agnarr’s lips twisted into a frown, and he raised Iduna off his lap and onto the bed as he stood, pacing again. “We cannot be sure,” he said, his hands clasping behind him. He stared at Elsa with concern. “My father did a fine job of scaring the wits out of everyone in the kingdom with his tales of the evils of magic, and inculcating the same prejudices in them which he held himself. Even if her powers never reached such heights as the stories describe, the fact that she has them at all is—” He shook his head, his troubles mounting. “We’ve only just forged a hard-won peace with Weselton, and secured some new trade routes that had previously been closed to us, no thanks to my father. And all of that would be at risk if they knew, let alone…”

Iduna caught his meaning as he stopped in his tracks, and the two exchanged a long, uncomfortable look.

“Albert,” she finished for him, her mouth dry. “He cannot know about this, Agnarr.”

The king’s expression was bleak. “No,” he agreed, “he cannot.”

Iduna trembled. “Well, that settles it,” she said, trying to sound resolute. “We’ll teach Elsa how to conceal her powers, so that no one ever finds out about them. That way—”

“It’s impossible, Iduna,” Agnarr cut in, pressing a hand to his forehead. “We cannot keep such magic in check forever. And besides, it… would be too cruel to ask that of her. She will not understand.”

“It’s the only way, Agnarr,” his wife insisted, though her lips quivered. She bit them to keep them still. “If we explain to her why it’s necessary, and keep her safe within the castle, away from the town—” Iduna broke off, unable even to convince herself of the workability of her plan, and tears began to collect in her eyes once more.

Agnarr could not keep the despair from his own voice. “Even if we could manage it, and keep her hidden away until she comes of age,” he murmured, resting a hand on her shoulder, “how, then, could we ensure that she would not reveal her powers to her future husband?” He frowned. “If that boy is anything like his father, he would no doubt try to manipulate her, and use this great power to suit his and Albert’s purposes.” He shuddered. “I cannot allow that to happen.”

Iduna stared at the child, her brow bearing the weight of defeat. “But what can we do, Agnarr?”

The king stood stock-still in contemplation, relying on every fiber of his remaining self-composure not to collapse back into the chair. A creeping shadow of gloom crawled across his face, darkening his brow. “There may be a way,” he said, swallowing.

At Iduna’s forlorn, questioning look, he continued: “Before my mother left, when she was at the height of her suffering, she would talk sometimes about a magical race of creatures that had the power to ‘heal’ her.” He paused, and clarified: “Trolls, apparently, living in a valley somewhere in the mountains above Arendelle. She said they could perform all manner of spells, and I heard her talk in her sleep once or twice about wanting to go see them.”

Iduna stared at her husband in disbelief. “Trolls.”

He reddened. “Yes, well,” he said, “I realize how absurd this sounds, Iduna, but…” He glanced at Elsa. “Now that I’ve seen what our child is capable of, the idea of magical trolls doesn’t seem so farfetched.”

“What are you saying, Agnarr?” Iduna snapped, shaking her head. “That your mother went to see them? That they helped her… ‘disappear’?”

His shoulders raised in defensiveness. “I don’t know,” he conceded, “but what if that were the case? What if…” He sat back down in the rocking chair suddenly, staring at Iduna with clear eyes. “They erased her memory.”

Iduna frowned. “How can you be sure?”

“I’m not,” Agnarr admitted, “but if the trolls are as powerful as she said, then… it might explain where she ran off to, and why she never came back.” He sulked. “I wonder if father knew.”

Iduna took in this speculation with confusion and annoyance, pressing a hand to her right temple as she sighed. “Even if that is what happened,” she began, trying to keep the impatience from her voice, “what does any of this have to do with Elsa?”

Agnarr struggled to answer for a time, unable to articulate his thoughts. At his wife’s expectant stare, he offered: “We could take her to them, and ask them to… remove her powers.”

The queen shot up in alarm. “Have you gone mad?” she hissed. “Do you have any idea how sacred and special her magic is?” Fury alit in her blue irises. “It is a gift, Agnarr. No matter what your father – or anyone else – thinks or says, it is a part of her eternal soul. To take it away from her would be akin to spitting in the eye of God himself.”

“Then what do you suggest?” the king retorted, exasperated. “What other choice do we have?”

Iduna’s anger faded as she contemplated the question, and her expression grew melancholic. Agnarr, sensing the shift in her mood, placed one hand on hers. He noted that it had gone cold.

“What is it, Iduna?”

She stared at him in quiet desperation, and before she could stop herself, her face sunk into her hands, and she wept.

»» —— ««

“Is everything alright, Your Majesty?”

The question weighed on Agnarr more than the physician expected, and the latter exchanged a glance with Gerda as the doors to the king’s private study were closed behind them by a guard. The dark, windowless room seemed impossibly small, lit up only by a candelabra on the desk between the king and his guests, though a keen observer could notice its impressive depth and height through the flames.

Agnarr’s head was bowed for a moment, and when the silence grew too difficult to bear, he released a shaky exhale. When his gaze met theirs, they were stunned to find it fresh with tears.

“The child passed this morning, in the queen’s arms,” he said, his voice tremulous from grief. “Just after we named her—Elsa.”

Gerda’s hands flew to her mouth to suppress a cry, though she began to sob into her handkerchief soon after. Nils entered a state of shock, staring at the king in utter bemusement.

“But, Your Majesty… how is this possible? I saw the princess just a few hours ago, healthy as a newborn could be.” He shook his head. “How could her condition deteriorate so suddenly? Why…” He frowned deeply. “Why did you not call for me sooner, if she was—”

Agnarr rose his hand, quieting the physician. “It all happened very suddenly, I assure you,” he murmured. “It seems you were right after all, Nils, about the dangers of premature birth.” He closed his eyes, and his lips trembled. “I only wish we had not glimpsed what could have been, before the end.”

Nils’s frown eased, but only slightly. “Your Majesty,” he began more gently, “please, let me see the child. It will help me to better ascertain what happened, and be sure of Her Majesty’s health as well…”

The physician trailed off as he realized that the cold determination in the king’s eyes would not allow for further argument. “She needs time alone with the child – with Elsa – to grieve, in her own way,” Agnarr said. “Then, we will relinquish it and make preparations for the funeral.”

“But sire,” Gerda mustered the strength to speak through her tears, “it’s not proper. The child’s body, it will—” The woman gave in to a fitful sob at the thought before continuing. “It will cause Her Majesty great sorrow to see the princess that way.”

Nils did not speak, but his grim expression indicated his agreement with the maidservant.

Agnarr’s mouth pressed into a thin, firm line. “These are the queen’s wishes,” he stated, “and it would only cause her greater sorrow to take the child from her so soon.”

Gerda hid her moan of anguish in her handkerchief, and Nils patted her on the back, his frown etched into his wizened features as he stared at the king. “Very well,” he relented, bowing his head. “We will wait until Her Majesty’s mourning period is over.”

Agnarr gave a faint nod of thanks. “I appreciate both of you – your service, and your care – through all of this,” he said. Turning to Gerda, he added: “Leave any meals outside of the room for the evening. I will bring them to her myself.”

The older woman managed a nod in return, the cloth in her hands barely stifling her constant sniffles.

He turned his back on them, his hands clasped behind him. “You may go,” he said.

Agnarr waited until he was sure that they had left to release a deep, shaking sigh. He gripped the edge of the desk until his knuckles turned white, and then exhaled again, turning his attention to the tiered bookshelves which lined either side of the room, stretching out into the darkness of the far wall.

With sudden and frantic energy, the king began to rifle through the books, coughing and sneezing through the clouds of dust and cobwebs which greeted him as he pulled them off the shelves with little regard for their long-undisturbed state. His initial, methodical skimming of the first shelf was quickly replaced by mere glances as he ripped books from the successive ones, clearing out rung after rung, unsure even of what he was seeking.

Long minutes that felt like hours passed in this way, and by the time Agnarr reached the far end of the room – though he was only halfway through the stacks – he leaned back against it, spent of his energies and despairing of the futility of his quest, resting the candle in his hand down on the floor.

He sat there in the gloom of his father’s former study, now his own, caught in a state of bewildered insomnia when he brushed his hand against the candle, causing it to tip over to the ground. Luckily, he reacted fast enough to put out the flame that began to catch on a nearby loose sheaf of paper, and turn the candle back upright. As the remaining smoke tendrils rose from the burnt page, he sighed, accepting even this small bit of relief.

Agnarr.

The king’s back was rigid at the familiar voice, and he stared out into the darkness with terror in his eyes.

“Who—who’s there?” he whispered, looking to and fro. When nothing answered him, he curled his hand around the candleholder at his side, though he dared not move from his seat. His lip quivered. “Show yourself!” he demanded, unnerved.

A sighing wisp of a sound encircled him, causing the flame of his candle to flicker and dance, and then seemed to disappear into a corner of the room to his left. Agnarr followed its path with wide eyes, seeing it end somewhere at the very bottom shelf on the other, untouched side of the room. He grabbed his candle, ignoring the burn of hot wax as it dripped onto his bare hands, and held it towards the spot where the voice had led him.

There, nestled between inconspicuous volumes bound in the same, dark brown leather as most of the other tomes in the room, was a slightly larger and red-colored spine. He pulled it out with greater care than he had for any other book in the study, surprised by its heft, and gently laid it down on the wooden floor below. He blew away the dust that obscured the text on its cover.

Even when it became legible, however, the king found that it was comprised of ancient runes in which he had no education or training, and so he could make little sense of what its contents might be. When he opened it to the first few pages, paragraphs upon paragraphs of the same, unreadable runes greeted him.

“Very helpful,” he muttered to himself, glaring at the candle’s steady flame in his hand. “I must be going mad,” he said, sighing, and moved to place it back on the shelf.

Forgetting its weight, the book fell from Agnarr’s hands as if in protest, and as it banged onto the hard floor, it opened to a section that he had not yet seen. He held the candle with trepidation and curiosity over the pages, careful not to drip any wax onto them, and his eyes widened as he got a better look at their contents.

On the left was a page of runic script, but on the right was a faded illustration of a mysterious, dark creature with narrow, yellow eyes, its hands raised to the sky. Below it lay the sleeping body of a man on a carved stone bench – a nobleman, or perhaps even a king, Agnarr thought, from the looks of his fine raiment and armor – and from the man’s head, extending into the sky, were swirls of smoke and clouds of fantastic colors, all intermingling to create a stark and foreboding image.

The king shuddered at the sight even as he was unsure of its meaning, and he ran his hand over the lines of the drawing. He paused over the head of the sleeping king, feeling an unusual groove on the surface of the page; smoothing his fingers down, he realized it ran all the way to the bottom, and he quickly turned to the next page.

Folded and tucked into the centerfold of the book was a loose paper, sandwiched between another page of text and what looked like an illustration of a white stag. Agnarr ignored the picture, and busied himself with unfolding the paper. Flattening it out against the other pages with one hand, he felt his jaw go slack in surprise, and he had to hold tightly onto the candle to keep it from falling over again.

It was a map, with the fjord and castle of Arendelle drawn prominently in the bottom left corner, encircled on all sides by nondescript forests and mountains colored beige, brown, and dark green. From the castle was demarcated a clear path in red dashes through the mountains, to a spot at the top right corner of the page marked with a large “X.” Next to it was, Agnarr assumed, the name of the location; and though it was written in the same runes as the rest of the book within which the map had been hidden, the first two letters gave him some clue as to what – or who – could be found at the final destination.

“Trolls,” he murmured. The candle flickered, seemingly in agreement. He eyed it with wonder, and then looked up at the ceiling, seeing nothing more than total darkness… but sensing much more beyond it.

Collecting his wits, Agnarr folded the map back up and slid it into his breast pocket, and then closed the red book and slid it back onto the shelf. Standing with newfound strength from the floor, he walked back with brisk purpose towards the entrance. Once there, he lingered in the doorway to look back with a sad smile, disregarding the disarray his manic search had caused in the room.

“Thank you, mother,” he whispered, and left.

»» —— ««

The path to the stables was as shrouded in December’s eternal nightfall as every other part of the kingdom, and Agnarr was thankful for having traveled there enough times in daylight to know his way in the dark. He adjusted the sling against his chest so that it faced more towards him, and the deep, royal blue color of its cloth was well-disguised beneath his plain brown riding cloak.

His steward followed close behind with a lantern, though the light did little to illuminate their path. When they reached their destination, the older man gave a sigh of relief, holding aloft the light so that the king might better see the harness and gates guarding his prized horse, Sigurd. He eyed the king’s costume questioningly, but Agnarr would not answer the look as he untied his steed, leading it out of its stall with the trained hands of a horseman.

After carefully laying the saddle atop its broad back, he nodded to the steward, who waited expectantly, bracing himself. The king grabbed the older man’s shoulder, using the leverage to slide his foot into the stirrup and mount Sigurd.

A small, babbling sound escaped the bundle slung across Agnarr’s chest; the older man stared at it for a moment, but said nothing. The king almost sighed with relief, but elected instead to nod at the gesture of discretion in thanks.

The steward could not help but demonstrate some concern. “Are you sure about this, Your Majesty? There have been reports of brigands in the mountains as of late, and I can easily send one of the guards to go with you—”

“There are some sensitive matters I must discuss with the tradesmen there—too sensitive for company,” Agnarr interrupted in an authoritative tone, though his face reddened with embarrassment at his own vagueness. He adjusted the sling again, and continued in a more conciliatory way: “I will return before sunrise, Kai.”

The steward’s skeptical expression was obvious even in the dim lighting, but he did not press the king further on the matter, and stepped back from the horse.

The king could not bring himself to address the man’s suspicion, and whispered into Sigurd’s ear. The horse gave a whinny of comprehension, and the two set off down the path to the gates at a quick pace, disappearing into the night.

»» —— ««

Agnarr arrived at the location marked on the map – or where he thought it should be, based on his knowledge of the mountains – with a weariness etched into his brow that made him appear far older than his twenty-one years.

He had come upon a clearing in the forest resembling a Roman amphitheater, and the full moon above shone on the stage and surrounding theatron, which were covered in moss as if from long disuse. From his vantage point at the edge of the forest path leading into it, he could also make out countless stone orbs of various shapes and sizes, all draped with moss that matched their surroundings, scattered throughout the rows.

The king eyed this warily, clutching the bundle across his chest close to him as he dismounted Sigurd. He tied the horse to a tree nearby, and proceeded with caution into the center of the arena. “Hello?” he called out.

When nothing answered him, he swallowed, and made a second attempt in a more confident voice. “I am King Agnarr of Arendelle,” he announced, “and I have come seeking help.”

His statement was met with another bout of silence, and sweat beaded at his forehead as the bundle across his chest started to wriggle, making small mewling noises.

“Please,” he said, looking around at the empty valley in desperation, his eyes growing misty from the threat of tears, “I have no one else to turn to. The very fate of Arendelle is at stake.”

Finally, at this plea, Agnarr began to hear – and feel – a series of rumblings all around him, the very earth quaking beneath his feet. He looked down to plant them more firmly and keep himself from tripping, and in the background Sigurd whinnied with fright, bucking against his restraints. When the king lifted his gaze again, he was shocked to find that the same static, stone orbs he had observed before were rolling down the theatron of their own accord, until they were completely encircling him.

No sooner had he adjusted to the notion of self-propelling rocks than they began to take the forms of living beings, one by one uncurling into equally circular, stocky trolls.

At first, they seemed all alike in their terrifying newness to Agnarr: a small mop of bedraggled hair atop their heads, smocks or tunics made of moss covering their small bodies, jewelry containing precious minerals and stones strung around their necks and wrists, and impossibly large eyes that stared at him and caused him to shrink under their scrutiny. Sigurd’s incessant, fearful whinnying in the background did nothing to dispel his own fear, and he stood stock-still, unable to move.

After a minute or so, however, the king found their collection of eyes more curious than threatening, and was slowly able to differentiate the creatures from one another by the color of their necklaces, or the particular partings of their mossy hair. This calmed him, and as his breathing returned to a more normal rhythm, so too did his steed quiet in the background.

The trolls began to clear a path amongst themselves, and through it, one approached Agnarr with a slow, deliberate gait. Judging by the length of its mane, its long moss cloak, and the ostentatious, heavy decorations of green baubles strung about its chest, the king guessed that it was their elder.

“Your Majesty,” it said, bowing as much as its age would allow. Agnarr nodded in return. “I am known as Grand Pabbie among our folk. It is a pleasure to meet the son of Her Majesty, Queen Rita, after so many years.” The troll paused, registering the surprise on the king’s face at the mention of his mother. “But tell me, what brings you to the Valley of the Living Rock?”

Agnarr hesitated, but soon found himself pulling back his cloak and drawing down the top of the blue cloth to reveal his daughter’s waking features. Her bright blue eyes and soft coos were met with a chorus of “ooh”s and “aah”s from the crowd, who gathered in closer around the king to catch a glimpse of the newborn.

He was both comforted and unsettled by the attention, and unconsciously stepped back with Elsa. Pabbie, sensing this, gave him an encouraging nod to continue. “It’s all right, Your Majesty,” he reassured the king.

Agnarr swallowed. “I’ve come with a difficult – unthinkable – request,” he corrected himself, his voice shaking. “I only make it out of desperation, for the safety and life of the princess.”

At the encouraging and concerned looks of the trolls, he looked down at his child, and laid out the account of his coming to the valley in detail: how he met the queen; her true heritage, and the magic present amongst her folk; the conflict between her people and his father; the fear of magic in Arendelle; the unusual and difficult pregnancy, as well as the premature birth of the princess; and, finally, how Elsa’s powers had manifested earlier that same day.

When he finished, Pabbie asked: “May I take a look, Your Majesty?”

Before Agnarr could inquire as to what he meant, the elder troll conjured a cloud of fine, purple dust that seemed to seep out of the king’s forehead into the air above them, recalling to him the illustration he had seen in the red book. The cloud began to take shape, revealing Agnarr’s memory of seeing Elsa’s powers for the first time. The trolls tittered in astonishment at the magic, and the king watched the scene replay with the same dread and awe as he had just a few hours before.

As the spell came to a close and the cloud faded away, Pabbie looked with wonder upon the babe in the king’s arms. “Truly remarkable,” he murmured.

Agnarr shifted uncomfortably at the remark, and continued: “Yes. And Iduna and I could have borne all of these difficulties, but for one: Elsa has been betrothed to a prince from the Southern Isles since before her birth, as this was the price named by its king for his support in rebuilding Arendelle after the war.” He shook his head. “And that is not one we are willing to pay, after discovering her powers.”

The elder’s brows furrowed. “Why do you fear this king, sire?”

Agnarr frowned. “He is cruel, Grand Pabbie, prone to exploiting whatever unsavory opportunities he can to give himself the greatest advantage over others. While I know my father’s flaws full well, his mistrust of Albert was not one of them. That man…” He sucked in a breath. “He had his own brother killed to hold onto the throne, and has had the audacity to claim the death was a ‘tragic accident’ ever since.”

The trolls murmured to each other with wide eyes at this revelation, but Pabbie’s brow merely rose while he otherwise remained calm. “And you fear that he would bring the same harm to the princess, or otherwise seek to use her to bad ends,” he surmised.

Agnarr nodded. “Yes. We’re quite certain he would, which is why…” He trailed off, staring down at his child through a veil of mourning, and then looked back up at the troll with unspeakable grief. “We do not have the means to conceal her powers forever, nor would we even know how to do so.” His eyes closed, and he trembled. “It was by the queen’s request that I come here, and ask that you look after Elsa in our place. I had hoped we could ask you to remove her powers instead, but my wife forbid it.”

The trolls gave a collective gasp at this admission, with consternated whispers traveling through the crowd. Pabbie raised his hand, quieting the ruckus. “And Her Majesty was right to do so,” he affirmed. “Though, truth be told, it would’ve been impossible for me to fulfill such a request, even if you had asked it of me. There exists no such power in this world.” He paused, glancing at the child. “Does anyone else know that you’ve brought her here?”

“No,” Agnarr replied. “Her birth had not been announced, and I told the physician and servants that the princess died shortly after her birth.” He reddened. “Truthfully, I’m not sure they believed it.”

The elder was quiet for a while at this, and stared with sympathy at the child, who continued to flitter between sleep and wakefulness. “Her power will only grow with time,” he said. “There is beauty in her magic, but also great danger.” He gazed up at the king. “You did the right thing in bringing her to us, Your Majesty. We can raise her as one of our own, and teach her to use this great power for good. But…” The troll’s eyes softened. “Are you sure you want to do this? For if you do, she will never know you as her father, nor the queen as her mother—nor will you be able to see her again, lest you risk raising suspicions about her parentage.”

With tears trickling down his cheeks, Agnarr assented with a tiny nod. “Yes,” he murmured.

Pabbie bowed his head. “So be it.”

The trolls watched in silence, waiting; Agnarr, shaking, held onto his child for as long as he could, and then knelt down, his tears falling onto her cheek. He removed one riding glove to wipe it away, and then pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. Removing the scarf from around his neck, he wrapped it around the princess as he drew her up from the sling, and whispered:

“Goodbye, my sweet Elsa.”

With weak hands, he handed her to an older, matronly troll who had stepped forward from the crowd to stand beside Pabbie. As the exchange was completed, the king stifled his sobs, as did the trolls surrounding him, who watched the scene with oddly human tears streaming down their stony features.

Pabbie placed a surprisingly warm hand on his shoulder. “It will be all right, Your Majesty. Rest assured that she will live well and happily in the Valley, in harmony with nature and her magic.”

The gesture was of little comfort to Agnarr, who continued to cry. At length, Pabbie took the king’s ungloved hand in his, and with the other he removed one of the jewels from his necklace. He chanted a brief incantation under his breath that turned the mineral from green to purple, and then pressed it into Agnarr’s palm.

“Crush this gem into fine powder when you return to the castle,” he instructed, “and mix just a few grains of that into the drink or food of anyone who saw the princess alive. It will ensure that their memories of her are erased, and confirm your story about the queen’s miscarriage.”

Agnarr wiped his tears away with the heel of his gloved palm. “I will,” he nodded. “Thank you.” After a moment, he felt his lips quivering again. “Grand Pabbie…”

The troll was attentive, holding the king’s hand. “Yes, Your Majesty?”

The king swallowed uneasily. “I hate to ask this, or even think of it yet, but… if Iduna and I have another child, will it also—”

“Have powers?” Pabbie finished. Agnarr nodded, red-faced. “No, sire,” the troll assured him. “It is highly unlikely. Such magic only comes along once in a generation, if at all.”

“You’re sure of this?” Agnarr asked.

“Yes,” the troll repeated, and added in a kinder tone: “You needn’t worry.”

The king could not help but release a small sigh of relief, though it was soon replaced by a deep look of regret as he heard the princess gurgle from within the scarf with which she had been wrapped.

He stood, turning away. “I should go, now, before my presence is missed,” he murmured, and the trolls parted to clear a path for him back to Sigurd. The horse watched his return with impatience, knocking the ground beneath him with one hoof for emphasis, and Agnarr quickly untied him.

As the king slotted one foot into a spur, he was surprised to find Pabbie before him again, staring with understanding and warmth so pure that it caused him to shudder.

“Your Majesty,” the troll said softly, “I promise that we will keep her safe.”

Agnarr paused for a moment, staring down at the elder. The dried tracks of his tears were still visible on his face under the moonlight.

“Tell me, Pabbie,” he murmured, “did my mother hesitate, before you erased her memories?”

The troll’s expression lifted in surprise, and then turned wistful. “She loved you very much, sire,” he said. “Were it not for her fear of your father’s reprisal, she would have taken you with her.”

Fresh tears brimmed in Agnarr’s eyes. “Answer the question, Pabbie.”

The old troll sighed. “Of course she did. To give up a child… it is the most difficult decision in the world. But she knew you would suffer more, if she raised you in her condition.” He gazed up at the king with a knowing expression. “I know it probably never made much sense to you before, though perhaps it does now.”

Agnarr’s lip quivered, and he found he could not challenge the assertion. Without speaking another word, he swung onto Sigurd’s saddle in one swift, practiced motion, and allowed himself one last glance at his daughter.

“Tell her we loved her,” he said at last, turning away. “Tell her we’ll never forget her.”

Pabbie bowed his head, and the king threw his hood back over his head. Guiding his steed towards the path into the forest, the two set off towards Arendelle at a clip.

In the distance, the child began to cry.

#frozen #frozen 2 #frozen fanfiction #helsa #helsaweek #helsaweek2021 #InFantasyFrozen

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zigtheeortega · 3 years

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For the past six months, @pixeljazzy and I have been working on a playlist we felt could top last year’s, which was so well received!

We’ve broken it up into sections by individual love interests, multiple love interests, main character, and miscellaneous, which includes side characters, general vibes, etc. Underneath each song are lyrics we believed stood out to us along with explanations as to why we chose it. Like last year, the [p] is for PJ and [j] is for Jade.

Here’s the link to the playlist on Spotify, but we’ve individually linked the songs with each explanation as well!

We sincerely hope you enjoy our 2021 RODAW Playlist!

The Bay, Soft Glas. ft. Mulherin [j]

Leaving you alone is too hard (hard, hard) / I just never know where to start (with you)

I'm not used to leaving someone broken hearted / That might be what really makes this hard (It's hard) / I've never been with anyone this long / If I did it, I really miss you

The softness and apologetic tone of the song reminds me of Logan through and through. He’s so regretful for what he put MC through, both at the beginning when he was lying to her, and by the end when he thinks he’s ruined her life by simply being a criminal and dating her. And by leaving her he’s leaving the one person who’s loved him unconditionally and stuck with him through it all.

Call Me, Nav [j]

They taught me, "Don't forget where you came from" / I regret what I came from

Do you know how it feel to feel alone? / Bought myself a house, to feel like I ain't home / Driving by myself, ain't got nowhere to go / Are you really here for me, I don't know

I hope you mean everything that you told me / I'll try to come back to you, girl, I'm sorry / If you miss me, just call me

This song honestly reminded me of Logan’s backstory that we don’t know much of, besides the fact that he was thrust into a life of crime as a teen and as an adult he hates it. The other lyrics I added are kind of a glimpse into the future I think – wherever Logan is, whatever he’s doing, if he’s not with MC, the woman he loves, everything he accomplishes is gonna feel hollow. And despite him saying that he was leaving to protect her, I know in his heart he’d want her to find her way back to him.

Cold Case Love, Rihanna [p]

I’m torn apart and you know / What you did to me was a crime

We opened up a cold case love / And it got the best of us / And now prints, pictures, and white outlines / Are all that’s left at the scene of a crime / Of a cold case love

The first line reminded me of how MC probably felt after being betrayed by Logan, the one that was arguably supposed to be the closest to them, and then the second lyric is because at the time, MC left and that was the last Logan knew of them with nothing to stand for what they used to have until they eventually came back to help save the crew.

Compass, The Neighbourhood [j]

If I don't have you with me, I'm alone / You know I never know which way to go / I think I need you with me for all-time / When I need new direction for my mind

I've got something to confess / I keep you in my pocket to use / You're my only compass / I might get lost without you / (Could you tell me where to go?)

You're always there to help me when I'm down / I'm lucky you've been keeping me around / You're the star I look for every night / When it's dark, you'll stick right by my side

Like a magnet / Hard to imagine ever changing / Can't help that I'm attracted to you, I am / Could you keep on guiding me? Please

This is a quintessential Logan song – reading these lyrics, it’s like Logan spoke them himself to MC, and that’s why I included so much of the song. All of these remind me of him and his hopeless romanticism, but specifically the line about her being the star he looks for every night? Absolutely perfect. This entire song is like a love letter from Logan to MC.

Don’t Leave Me, Blackstreet [p]

I’m searching for the words to make you realize / That I really, really want you to stay

Don’t leave, don’t leave me girl

This song was giving me Logan vibes from the diamond scene where he’s like “I can’t believe I love someone” and MC is like “you don’t get to say that to me” or some shit like that because he’s trying soo so hard to explain himself to her and to make her not hate him.

Imma Dog, Ugly God ft. PnB Rock [j]

You say you love me, shawty, tell me why / 'Cause I'm a dog and I'ma probably be this way until I die / You say you always gon' be by my side / You say you trust me with your heart and I swear, I just wonder why

Okay, hear me out, I forreal have reasons for this to be tied to Logan. The only verse in this song that’s a non chorus one is related to cheating, but I’m choosing to ignore that for the sake of the chorus. I heard the chorus for the first time and it made me think of one specific moment and point in time in Ride or Die. These lyrics remind me of Logan’s attitude when he was being mean and pretending to be annoyed by MC to get her off of him – despite the facade he’s still in awe of the way she trusts him and cares about him even when he’s treating her like garbage.

Life’s a Mess, Juice WRLD ft. Halsey [p]

Uh, sometimes life’s a mess

Lookin’ for somethin’ real, then I found it

I’m too flawed to hold you down, but / Don’t wanna be here alone

Logan knows all too well how much of a mess life really is (first lyric), and the second lyric is basically what I think he feels about MC. He told MC in the beginning that he doesn’t really stay with crews or trust anyone but himself, but MC was that exception before the rest of the crew became that exception too. And then the third lyric is because Logan looks at himself as someone who probably doesn’t deserve MC, Vaughn even said he was morally obligated to tell MC that she’s too good for his cousin (yes it was a joke (was it) but it fits), but he still wants her anyway (“Look at you...then look at me. You’re going to be valedictorian. I never even went to high school...I don’t have anything, and I wasn’t anybody, and I knew that. I always knew that….Some part of me really wants you to mess things up for me.” - Logan, Ch. 3).

Unfair, 6lack [p]

Hope my mistakes don’t make me less of a man / ‘cause lately it feel like them shits really can / I’m prayin’ I don’t wake up all alone

But know I’m stuck between / What I love and who I love and / I know it’s unfair

The first lyric I feel like is pretty self-explanatory as Logan expresses remorse for his actions (him acting weird and tryna tell MC about his dishonesty in the club, him making the effort to apologize or explain in the diamond scene after the reveal) and it especially hits if your MC is romancing Logan because he doesn’t want to lose them. As for the second lyric, I was thinking about how he was probably stuck between doing what’s best for the crew and doing right by MC

While We’re Young, Jhene Aiko [j]

Baby while we're young / I think we should do something crazy / Like say, "Fuck everyone" / And just run away from the daily routine

I'm tellin' everybody you're mine and I like it / And I really hope you don't mind, I can't fight it

'Cause it's been another perfect day with ya / Wanna lay with ya / Spend the night with ya / Then spend my life with ya, alright

I'll go everywhere you go / You know I'll go, I'll go / Everywhere you go

I'm giving you my heart, please don't break it / Take it and lock it up and put me in your pocket, love

This reminds me of Logan and MC’s brand of romance that’s sweet and clumsy and a little bit reckless when it really gets going. They’re both cautious but they fantasize about throwing caution to the wind even more than they already have.

Angel With A Shotgun, The Cab [p]

I don’t care if heaven won’t take me back / I’ll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe

Sometimes to win, you have to sin

And I want to live, not just survive

Lemme explain because I feel like people may think this song is really really out there for Colt but I was listening to this song one day and thought of him, esp the last two lines I chose: I think of how Colt came up with the kidnapping plan and how it was so crazy because it was like wow he really was ready for murder if it came down to it, but Colt was basically like we need to do something big to outsmart them or else we’ll just be doing shit for them forever (‘sometimes to win, you have to sin’).

Born 2 Be Great, Lil Tjay [p]

I was born to be great / And I won’t let nobody tell me I ain’t / And I can’t stop, won’t stop

Growin’ up, I’m gettin’ old, start settin’ goals / Tryna make more money off my business and shows / And everybody gon’ hate, I’m great, I know / Everybody can hate, I’m great, I know

These lyrics just scream COLT to me all the way. He knows and believes he’s destined for greatness no matter what path he chooses because no matter what he does, he’s gonna succeed in the end. “I can’t stop, won’t stop” reminds me of how Kaneko wanted Colt to choose for himself what he wanted to do, and even though Kaneko tried to shield Colt away from the family business, that’s where Colt wanted to be. The second lyric is essentially Colt just knowing he’s gonna make money and that he won’t be liked (hated by other crews, police, etc.), but that won’t matter because he’s great nevertheless.

Chandelier, B.o.B ft. Lauriana Mae [p]

They say life’s about choices / In the face of defeat I declined / Put your soul into everything, never back down / That’s how you leave a legacy behind

Let my blood keep pumping, my heart keep beating / Shining like a chandelier

Making something out of absolutely nothing / That’s the definition of a survivor

Colt definitely felt ‘put your soul into everything, never back down / that’s how you leave a legacy behind’ because of how much he focuses on carrying on what his family has built, and taking all the risks necessary to keep that legacy alive and make a name for himself. I put ‘shining like a chandelier’ because that’s how bright Colt shines, as I believe he’s destined for greatness and wouldn’t allow himself to achieve anything but.

Down Bad, Real Recognize Rio [j]

I've been out of my head for a couple minutes, for a couple miles / Made the hair stand up on my neck / On a knife edge, comin' at me for my crimes / Got a mind that can leave you locked inside

'Cause you got me down bad, down bad, your deep desire / Carve my name on your soul, then I walk through the fire / Your voice so clear, like you say my name / You got mе runnin' for my life like this shit was a game / Got mе down bad, down bad to feel your touch

This song reminds me of Colt specifically during the gambling scene when he got shot and the last car chase scene, because MC is put in serious danger but it does nothing to shake her love for Colt. She’s scared for her life and her future but she’s still willing to put everything on the line for him and MPC.

Forever Ever, Trippie Redd ft. Young Thug [p]

You gon’ really have to hold me fuckin’ down, babe / ‘Cause I ain’t with the fuckery, that playing ‘round, babe

We Bonnie and Clyde but except the shots

He don’t love you like he should, I can love you better

First and second lyric are because they’re a team, and Colt sees MC as his right hand. In the life he lives, the people on his team gotta be down fr because there’s always a lot at stake. The last lyric is more conditional, as I feel like this could be him if MC was also romancing Logan because in the reveal, Colt’s like you deserved to know and in the car in the chapter afterwards that’s when he’s like bro we could run this whole shit etc. etc.

Impala, O2worldwide [j]

I been watching you from a distance / Sitting back and acknowledging your existence / I made a couple songs but you'll probably never listen / Shooting my shot but i'm always fucking missing / Setting my ego aside / Me and you can go together just like Bonnie and Clyde / I've been tripping over you just like my shoes is untied / And I tried to hit you up its like my confidence died but

I see you everyday but don't past corners of eyes / I'm just gonna act like I didn't see you close to that guy / Not gonna lie you got me head over ears / I'm tryna find love because I don't know just how it feels

Anyone listening to this and reading the lyrics is going to hate me because… is this the perfect “Colt pining for MC because she’s getting close to Logan” Love Triangle song, or what? I listen to this song so casually most of the time that I forget how sad the lyrics actually are. The first couple verses (not the third verse) fit the narrative so well. A lot of my favorite “Colt” songs aren’t ones where they’re outwardly admitting any kind of affection for MC – they’re the ones where it reads as Colt struggling with their feelings for MC and how to express them.

PTSD, G Herbo ft. Juice WRLD, Lil Uzi Vert, and Chance the Rapper [p]

I don’t belong, I see my past everywhere

I got a war zone on inside of my head

A million dollars ahead, I’m still angry and seeing red

I’m too paranoid, I make sure all my opps, they bled

This song always guts me because G Herbo is talking about all the people he’s lost, and for Colt, I imagined this was probably him after losing his father. Reminded of his past when he saw the remains of the shop, reminded of his past every time after that probably when he was rebuilding the shop. As for the million dollars, it’s like he could pull off as many heists as he could but he would never be satisfied until Brotherhood paid, hence the last lyric because honestly I don’t think it’s over until Shaw is dead (ik there’s a line in ROD where he’s like if we were even, he’d be dead, I just know it).

Sun God, Trippie Redd [j]

Went out my way just to love you / Right at the top, no above you / Right off the top, know I trust you / Ready or not, here I come, boo / And baby, you're hot, like the sun, too / Not too hot for me, no I'm sun-proof / Follow your lead, I'ma come through / Just you and me, baby, one-two

I think this is Colt way farther down the line if MC had the chance to really fall in love with him. He’s the type to value trust and loyalty in a bond more than anything else because he doesn’t do either of those easily at all. And I think that the line about being sun-proof is a cute callback to a lot of the fandom comparisons of Colt and Icarus – the title too and the lyrics just scream Colt to me.

Where Does The Love Go?, Maria Isabel [j]

Nightly negotiations with the moon, whoever's listening / All the miles between us got me messed up, got me trippin'

They say lovin' is easy / But not when one of us is leaving

Back on a plane / Two different coasts / When we're alone / Where does the love go? / What if you go / Forget the way home? / Running in circles but never together / So where does the love go?

The more I listen to this song the more I think this song is about Colt and MC. Colt’s not a clingy type in the slightest, but there’s no doubt in my mind that deeper into the relationship, both Colt and MC would have some doubts – the reason I say this is because I’m viewing the lyrics through the lens of Colt and MC doing long distance while MC is in college on the East Coast. This whole song is long distance relationship anxiety summed up perfectly and it’s so Colt.

Yellow Lights, 24kGoldn [p]

Don’t want no yellow light / don’t want no mixed message

For the crown, ‘cause we could achieve it

Love you now, but don’t you deceive me

Second lyric resonated with me esp because of that line in the book where he’s like “But the two of us? We put our brains together, you and me could run this whole town” so he knows he could achieve an empire with MC by his side. Last lyric is because Colt definitely doesn’t trust those around him and for those that he does trust, that trust doesn’t come easy. So MC, who managed to get past that, is loved, but would automatically lose a lot if she deceived him (now imagine….snitch MC? This line would hit a lot more because she ends up deceiving him so like he had a right to be wary of her holding his heart (like if we’re looking at the pov of him saying this lyric)).

Can’t Love, Trippie Redd [p]

She say she love me, I think she love me not / She say she love me, I know she love me not

How could you do this to me? / Yeah, yeah, I thought you, I thought you loved

Another Mona and her ex song teehee but I’m imagining this from Mona’s pov while she’s in jail like wow that girl never loved me like she said she loved me (first lyric) and how could she betray me like this (second lyric).

Favorite Mistake, Giveon [p]

Is my secret safe? / Safe with just you and me / We can’t leave a trace / This is my favorite mistake

Look in my eyes / Do you mind the lies? Do you feel alive?

Even when you’re gone / The feeling just grow stronger / Should leave it alone / But you’re getting closer

So I finally did a Mona route and GOD yes this song is about cheating (Mona and Hieron can’t relate) but we gon ignore that and just focus on these lyrics specifically because wow they really hit me like Mona for one was in denial of her feelings for MC from the jump and at some point she’s like god this is so ridiculous I can’t believe I’m feeling this way again so ofc she doesn’t want people to know she’s in love (like that time Toby is like man she is NOT happy about liking you! in the club scene) hence the beginning of the first lyric but at the same time….. she’s in love… so “this is my favorite mistake.” As for the second and third, the lies are that “I don’t like you” ra ra ra she’s only fooling herself and then it’s like yeah she knows her feelings are dumb but she can’t help but fall for MC anyway <3

Gonna Love Me, Teyana Taylor [p]

Sometimes we say things that we really don’t mean / We do things in between the lines

Please wait up for me ‘til whenever I get home / I know that you’re all alone / Thinking ‘bout what you’re gon’ do / I hope that you see it through, ooh, ooh

Why is it so hard to keep in touch

For the first lyric, I was thinking of the time MC says “Being with you makes a difference to me. It feels safer” and Mona replies that “It’s just an illusion. A blanket. And I’ve told you before not to count on me.” Yeah she said that wit her chest but ik she knows it’s more than that for the both of them. The second and third lyric both have to do with her being in jail by the end of the book (making it literally hard to keep in touch), and even though she tells MC not to wait up, a part of me thinks the vulnerable part of Mona would’ve hoped at least a smidge that MC would, and the last bit ‘thinking ‘bout what you’re gon’ do / I hope that you see it through’ reminds me of the advice in the diamond scene of driving Mona to the hospital that she gave MC which was that to move on, you just gotta keep your foot on the gas and look forward and that eventually, she’ll be somewhere better than she’s ever been.

Love or Lust, 24kGoldn [p]

It’s love or it’s lust, we just need to be clear / ‘Cause if you’re in love, then I shouldn’t be here

Would you walk eight thousand miles just to make me smile on a rainy Wednesday? / If so, then you gots to go, it ain’t mutual and I’m not pretending

Basically in the beginning stages of MC falling for Mona, Mona’s like oh hell nah (“I shouldn’t be here”) and she recognizes that MC likes her a lotttt (MC would definitely walk eight thousand miles to make her smile on a rainy Wednesday) and so she’s like fuck

PLW, Leon Thomas [j]

Left my fear right at the door (ooh) / She's an animal hunting in the wild, yeah (in the wild) / Doesn't move around or groove / But she come from the depth / That's why she's down to earth / An instrument of war

Baby ain't no beginner / I got love for my little winner / Flashing or finessing / That's why I mess with her, yeah

And you don't have to worry, yeah / 'Cause I know what's she worth / No, you don't have to save me / From my pretty little weapon

Ooh my baby smart, and she sharp, and she sharp, yeah / Pretty little weapon

I’ll never ever get over how this song fell into my lap and is absolutely perfect for Mona. This is for an MC who acknowledges that Mona’s a badass and that she loves her because of her strong personality and unwavering confidence because she knows she’s good at her job. The first verse is the best approach an MC could take – leaving her fear at the door because she knows someone like Mona could sniff it out. The line “No, you don’t have to save me / From my pretty little weapon” kills me, because it’s accurate – on Mona’s route, despite any betrayal, the MC is still in love with her and knows that Mona would never actually hurt her.

Sleeping With the Enemy, BbyMutha & Kindora [j]

Creeping around corners / I don't feel like myself / Studying your movements / It's a carousel / And I can't confirm that you / Mean what you say / And I'm pretty sure / That it's / Better that way

Why can't I trust in you / Am I slipping up / Over you / If it really turned to be the way / That I think / How bad could it be?

And I know that we could go for / Round and round like 123 / And I gotta question myself / Is it coming? / Possibly / And I gotta wonder / Am I sleeping with the enemy?

I'm watching my back / Like I got nothing left / I give you all I got / Wish I knew what was next

The first time I heard this song it was a toss up between whether or not it was a Colt and Mona song (or both) but I settled on Mona pretty quickly after a re-listen. Not only is the internal conflict in the lyrics a perfect description of Mona’s own battle, but it could be easily viewed from MC’s perspective as well. The idea of knowing it’s “wrong”, and mistrusting them but pursuing it anyways is quintessential early Mona route.

The World is a Marble Heart, AJR [p]

We could have been, we should have been / What your heart couldn’t handle

Run away, girl, ‘cause I let you / Now you found some other man, you see / I’m better off without you, ‘cause the man ain’t me!

I’m going right now / To the beginning / What you denied from the start / And now you can’t go breaking my heart

The world is a marble heart / It’s bullshit and we know it

I think the first lyric is definitely MC to Mona because Mona was afraid to allow herself to be in love, and then evidently their relationship couldn’t blossom because Mona ends up arrested (“we could have been, we should have been”). This song called out to me because Mona always comments on how MC’s heart got them into the Brotherhood mess, how MC always think the crew is something they’re not, so MC’s heart is the marble heart and the last lyric (“it’s bullshit and we know it”) is essentially Mona being like girl you know we are not what you think we are. The second lyric is because in a scene after the reveal, Mona drives MC to Riya’s house and MC goes I wish we could run off together and Mona is like just say the word and MC is like I can’t :/// and then Mona is like the only one stopping you is you, and then “I’m better off without you” is Mona being don’t call don’t write don’t text

Would You, Pink Sweat$ [p]

Would you die for me? I would die for you / Would you shoot for me? I would kill for you / Would you run up the bag if I needed you to? / Girl, all the things that I’d do for you / Would you do for me too?

I wanna know when it pops off that you gon’ be right next to me

This was giving Mona and her ex from that scene where MC got a glimpse into Mona’s past. Essentially, Mona’s ex and her were thick as thieves, and when they got arrested, Mona didn’t say anything and her ex did, so Mona was always ten toes down but her ex never had her (Mona) like she (Mona) thought she (her ex) had her (Mona)

Both of Us, YFN Lucci [j]

Stay with me when there's no one else to call / If you got me then I'm in it for the both of us

Look, ayy, do you love me like you say you love me? / Ay, do you vow to keep it cute when everythin' get ugly? / Ay, if I ever leave, girl would you come lookin' for me?

I think that this song and these lyrics fit into the title of the book and how “ride or die” each of the love interests are for MC and vice versa. I think the softer parts of this song are MC for sure, and Logan at times, and the second bullet point is Colt and Mona. For them, it’s more of a promise of loyalty rather than love like the earlier lyric is (which is why I think that’s a bit more hopeless romantic like Logan).

C U Girl, Steve Lacy [j]

I haven't seen you in a while, you know I miss you babe / When you hear this song, feel flattered, it's about your face / And how I miss it and I wish that I could see it more / But you're in college now and I'm about to go on tour

I love this song because it makes me think of the possibility of MC and the LI having a “song” – one where any time they hear it they think of each other. And that when they hear it it makes them happy but at the same time they’re forced do think about the distance between them and how much they miss each other.

Collide, Tiana Major9 and Earthgang [j]

Everybody's got opinions on our thing / Say we're flying down a path with no ending / And if I die before I wake / Ooh, don't let me wake up from this dream / When we collide / When we collide, it's a beautiful disaster / When I crash into you, you, you

And I don't care about the future or the past / Riding slow, 'cause you know the world's moving too fast

Without you, I'm just a fraction / Closing in on my demise / And I love you religiously / With everything inside of me / As long as I'm alive

So I think it fits for all three because the relationship is taboo since they’re criminals and she’s a valedictorian getting ready for college. Their relationship is sloppy and dangerous and comes to an inevitable end, and they both know that, so this song for sure encapsulates how little both the LI and MC care about that. They don’t that it’s a trainwreck, because colliding is all that matters :)

Heaven, Clairo [j]

Alone, for the last time / You're just a loner / Give it a try / And you're hard on yourself / And your laugh, it just melts in my hands / Lonesome in the streets

I'll get by with you on my mind / I'll get by with you on my side

I love the idea of this song being viewed as MC’s perspective of her LI, because I’m sure the other LI’s haven’t been appreciated in the way that she appreciates them. For example, the line about the laugh melting in her hands makes me think about how they’d react to her saying that to them. None of the LI’s probably have never been told their laugh is cute, and I’m sure they’d be confused about it at first, so this whole song gives me a cute late night summer drive vibe. Like the MC is in the passenger seat of Mona or Logan’s car or draped around Colt and she’s just appreciating the things she loves about them.

Heaven Ain’t Hard 2 Find, Tupac [j]

Simply because you nervous, let me start off with my conversation / Hoping my information, elevates the hesitation / I can see it clearly now / Catch you smiling through your frown / I'm askin' Baby Boo are you down?

Heaven ain't hard to find / In fact you can have it just have faith / Just like a little kid, still believing in magic / It takes a lot of sacrifice / With all the lonely nights on tour / I need somebody I can trust in my life

Oh god help me identify me truest thoughts / Your hidden motives full of passion who would of thought / Come holla at me baby, love me for my thug nature / Far from a player hater, label me a money maker / Straight heart breaker

I originally added this song because it’s canon that Colt loves old West Coast Rap, so that makes me think he’s a huge Tupac fan. I can see him listening to this in his car driving down a California highway at like 2 a.m. On the other hand, though, the beginning of the song reminds me of the first meeting with Logan at the party, or the second meeting when they go to the car show – young love jitters and all that.

Keep Me Up, Charlotte Lawrence [j]

My heart starts beating and my hands start sweating / My chest starts sinking and sometimes will even start shaking / It's physical and emotional

And I don't want you all inside my head / And I can feel you running through my veins

When I say, and I say, and I say / That I want you in my life / But you stay, and you stay, and you stay / And you never leave my side / And you take, and you take, and you take / And you say you feel so nice, boy / And you keep me up all night

I think this fits with all the LI’s and MC and how they cope after the LI’s had to leave. Read it from both perspectives and it honestly fits so well for both of them – like the first couple months of restlessness staring at their ceiling while reflecting on how much they miss each other.

Kitchen, Kid Cudi [j]

Hmm, you wanna find somebody you trust and lay low / But it seems they all on the same mission / You wanna find somebody you trust and lay low / But can't stand the heat of my love, then stay out the kitchen

Oh baby here we are, I made a wish on shootin' stars / I ain't even mad at it, we made it this far

The attitude of this song reminds me of both Mona and Colt’s feelings about relationships – they both know they’re intense people and that they don’t trust or love easily, and that whoever’s interested in them needs to know that. They’re not going to apologize for it, but they appreciate anyone who sticks around and loves them despite that.

Meet Me Halfway, The Black Eyed Peas [j]

Can you meet me halfway, right at the borderline / Is where I'm gonna wait, for you / I'll be looking out, night n' day / Took my heart to the limit, and this is where I stay / I can't go any further than this / I want you so bad it's my only wish

I think of all three LI’s when I listen to this, because it fits into the idea of them struggling to maintain both of their lifestyles and have them mesh together. And it plays into the distance when MPC has to scatter.

Moonlight, Trippie Redd [j]

I can still be your man / I was tryna see your plans / 'Cause I was tryna have this dance tonight / Your body, girl, I'm a real big fan / And I cannot lose this chance / So, baby girl, grab my hand / This moment I'm waiting for, I fantasize / I just wanna be with you, I just wanna be with you tonight / Under the moonlight

This reminded me of the prom scene and how despite the chaos, all three love interests took the time to appreciate MC and soak up their last “date”.

out for the night, 21 Savage [j]

Five foot five (Five), she my ride or die (Die) / Never tell a lie (Lie), we like Bonnie and Clyde (Clyde) / Lookin' at her thigh (Thigh), like, "Do it come with rice?" (Rice) / She don't like FaceTime, she would rather Skype / But I'm out for the night (Straight up) / Out for the night (Straight up)

When I heard this song I could definitely see Colt listening to it, but I think the flirtiness of the song fits for all three love interests! Also, I mean… “she my ride or die” and “we like Bonnie and Clyde”? Self explanatory.

Part of Me, Teo [j]

I believe there's no one in your place / So much lovely / You can cure my mistakes / You reside in me no room for escape

You're my darling / You're my love / You're rocking all of your diamonds / All dressed up / And girl I lost my mind, no, I messed up / So now I'm knocking at your doors with my chest up

You're part of me / Come again and see / Diamonds make you sparkle

This reminds me of the prom scene from the LI’s perspective. And even more so than that, it reminds me of post prom/car chase where they have to say goodbye to each other the last time. It’s like a bittersweet tribute to MC about how much they mean to them and how much they’ll think about them when they’re apart.

Special, 21 Savage [j]

We got something special / I was finna text you / But I don't wanna pest you / Even if we ain't together (no matter we're forever) / I'm still coming to your rescue

Ride with me (ride with me) / Tell the truth and don't you lie to me (lie to me) / You know I need you on my side with me (side with me) / Tell the truth and don't you lie to me (lie to me) / Baby, roll with me (roll with me)

I'mma hold you down forever / You my round forever / They just want to use you, but I'm tryna help you

I think of Colt mostly with this song, but it definitely fits with all of the li’s in my opinion! Logan, Colt, and Mona would all approach their relationship with MC this way – constantly affirming that they’re there for MC no matter what, even if things go South with them, they’re always one call away. And especially the last line “they just wanna use you, but I’m tryna help you” that’s for sure an overprotective LI about the Jason Shaw situation and generally people taking advantage of MC’s kindness.

Drunk on Love, Rihanna [p]

Take me away / I wear my heart on my sleeve / Always let love take the lead / I may be a little naive, yeah

I feel like I’ve heard MC being described as naive, and even in the book Mona is like man it’s your damn heart that got us into this mess because you thought we were more than who we are, so yeah this song reminded me of MC.

Final Goodbye, Rihanna [p]

Thought that you would stay forever with me / But the time has come to leave

Promise you our love will carry on

Final goodbye, MC saying goodbye to their LI, you catch my drift.

The Good, the Bad, and the Dirty, Panic! at the Disco [p]

If you wanna start a fight / You better throw the first punch / Make it a good one

I feel like this lyric specifically is saying that if you’re gonna stand for something, you better give it your all, and it reminded me of how MC came up with the plan to defeat the Brotherhood in the last few chapters of ROD, and to get out of it, they really had to go all out (AKA MC telling the police everything, meaning the gang had to go on the run). Also, MC just nose-dived into this life and I feel like this lyric is like ‘well sis if you gon be a criminal you might as well do your best’ (and she did when she bodied her first heist I know that’s right, my driver forever <3).

Harder We Fall, Jessie J [p]

So, whatever path we choose to take / There will be highs and there will be lows, the same / Oh, we’ll never run from our mistakes / The harder we fall the harder we try again

I just feel like this is a good song for MC to listen to in the car on her way to Langston yk crying but the windows are down and the wind is wiping your tears so you just keep it pushing because you’ll live and you’re stronger than your lows.

House of Memories, Panic! at the Disco [p]

If you’re a lover, you should know / The lonely moments just get lonelier / The longer you’re in love than if you are alone / Memories turn into daydreams, become a taboo

I think of you from time to time more than I thought I would

I just feel like this is a perfect song for MC going through the motions of leaving their lover behind and thinking about the times they shared because her life with the crew will always be so drastically different than the life she was went to have (going to Langston, being the ‘goody two shoes’, etc.).

Let It Out, Trippie Redd ft. Myiah Lynnae [p]

I need to know, before I tell you, can I trust you?

Idk man this song really just spoke to me.

Saw You in a Dream, The Japanese House [j]

I saw you in a dream / You had stayed the same / You were beckoning me / Said that I had changed / Tried to keep my eyes closed / I want you so bad / Then I awoke and it was so sad

Haven't talked to you in months / And I thought that I might cry / But I'm not that kind of girl

All good things come to an end / But I thought that this might last / But you came and left so fast

I wonder if you'll come visit me again / You're taking your time to reappear / I'm starting to believe that when I call your name / You just don't hear me anymore / And I know that I shouldn't even try / It's a waste of time

I don’t think I need to go super in depth as to why this reminded me of MC, but I do see this as MC’s defeated approach to it in the months/years after meeting the MPC.

Silent Nite, Tink [p]

I put your joy and your feelings ‘fore mine / These days I’m angry, angry inside / No words to say (oh) / One thing to do / Move on and fall back from you / It’s gonna be a silent night / No one here to hold me tight / It’s gonna be a silent night / No one here to hold me, oh, oh I’m lonely / Lost for words (lost for words)

It’s a short song so I just put the whole lyrics in here LMFAO but I feel like this could be MC during her first few nights at Langston. For Hieron at least, I know she went through a range of emotions processing this new chapter without the people she holds dear, angry at the way this is how things had to play out, but all that’s left for her to do is get over it, move on, and get used to not having that support anymore (i.e. like if MC is used to cuddling with [insert LI], they deadass gotta sleep alone now f in the chat).

Smile, Juice WRLD ft. The Weeknd [p]

I’d do anything in my power to see you just smile / I want you to prosper and come proper / Even if that means I ain’t by your side

I spent every day right beside you (‘side you), ‘side you (‘side you) / A hundred pics of me on your phone / Now you’re someone that I used to know

OKAY so I’m absolutely obsessed with this song and the first lyric was definitely giving me Logan x MC because I feel like this is something he could’ve said during his goodbye, like saying something that vulnerable and heartwrenchingly sweet is def on-brand for him, but the second lyric I feel like fits all the LIs. Like because they were part of the crew, they spent so much time with MC, and now that they’re gone, MC has all those pictures and memories that they want to hold on to them so badly even though they can never be together again (‘now you’re someone that I used to know’)

Stuck With Me, The Neighbourhood [j]

Now I'm feeling guilty for it / Didn't wanna leave / Realized I'm less important / Than I thought I'd be, yeah / I'm not tellin' you for any certain reasons but / I just want your empathy

Our lives keep on gettin' shorter / Losin' opportunity / There might be some other ways of looking at it but / That's just what I see / I been gettin' over myself / Thinkin' about what you need / Then I realised that neither of us matter

You always end up stickin' to me / Somehow, somehow / You are stuck with me / So I guess I'll be sticking with / You are stuck with me / So I guess I'll be sticking with

So I think this song covers a lot of topics for MC. I think the vibe of the lyrics suit MC when she’s dealing with her relationship with her father, being pressured by Jason Shaw, and grappling with whether or not she’s making the right decision despite it all – homegirl was falling in love throughout all of it, too. Reading the lyrics with that lens made me think of each of the lines as a different conversation. The first part sounds like a tidbit of a conversation she could’ve had with her dad or about her dad. The next one is like a realization that despite how careful she is with her choices, nothing matters anyways, if the MC takes a nihilistic approach to it. And the last lyric is her conclusion with the LI that despite everything, she’s happy that she’s with her LI and she’s grateful for their loyalty.

worst behavior, Ariana Grande [j]

I been on my worst behavior / But, baby, I don't need no savior / I'm way outta line / But I kind of like the way I / Feel when I just don't give a fuck

This ain't no game, won't play with you / This time I know I'll stay with you / Just promise you won't say nothin' / Don't you be actin' like that, don't you be actin' like that, babe

Said baby it's just in my nature / To be a little troublemaker

Know you really like the way I / Taste when we kiss, you reminisce / But this ain't the last time / Just stay by my side

This song reminds me of rebellious MC before the gravity of the situation really hits her – the short span of time where she’s not worrying about being Valedictorian or college or her dad’s approval. She’s just living and falling in love for the first time. This could probably work for all LI’s but the specific “troublemaker” line makes me think of an MC who is trying to reassure Logan that she can make her own decisions.

1Day, PnB Rock ft. Ugly God [j]

Momma told me that I wouldn't be shit / Told her one day / I'ma be rich (huh)

One day, I'ma buy a big ass crib / One day, I'ma buy a big ass mansion / One day, all my fucking diamonds gon' be dancing / One day, I'ma fuck a bitch in the Hamptons / One day, I'ma eat the sushi with the salmon

Dropped out of college, everybody said I'm tripping / Told them be patient, but they ass wouldn't listen / Made it big time, now they fucking with the vision / Now I'm really rich, and my diamonds really glistening

The lyrics kind of remind me of the lifestyle that they live – whether or not they fell for the MC in the process, they all kind of have the motive of money and being successful in their own way. Even though the li’s and MC have their own shortcomings and wants and needs outside of MPC, I like to think of this song as an ego booster and probably representative of their attitudes when they joined MPC at the beginning. Reminds me of Logan especially since he joined the life so early and probably romanticized it for the longest time before it really went to shit. And to add to that, the last lyric is Colt all the way.

92 Explorer, Post Malone [p]

Ooh, baby, I see these muhfuckas’ glancin’ / When my whip stop, then my wheels keep spinnin’

Made a lot of M’s, made a lot of moves

This song is literally all about Post Malone’s precious car so I was like LMFAO why not because everyone in ROD loves their cars and then the last lyric is because they be making a lot of money with their transactions/steals.

Best Friend, Saweetie ft. Doja Cat [p]

Beep beep, is that my bessie in a Tessie?

Listen... I feel like we were robbed of the peak best friend dynamic that could’ve existed between Riya and MC so this whole song is for them (also c’mon MC could’ve snatched a Tesla if she reeaaally wanted too so yup that’s Riya’s bessie in a Tessie).

Lost It, Rich The Kid ft. Quavo and Offset [p]

The Bentley don’t cost shit / I walk out the bank rich

Okay, drank sippin’, lane switchin’ / I done brought my gang with me

Ooh, I might snatch the coupe

First one because they really could get any car they wanted, second lyric because gang always together yk, and last one because they really be stealing cars out here LMFAO.

Royal Rumble, Lil Tecca [p]

My life is a movie, you not ready for that clip

It’s a Royal Rumble

ROD really is a wild ride (‘my life is a movie’) and the ‘it’s a Royal Rumble’ just reminded me of the fact that it’s basically a showdown between two crews where one wins in the end but at what cost.

Runnin’, 21 Savage and Metro Boomin [p]

Runnin’, runnin’, runnin’, runnin’

We run the motherfuckin’ city

Fuck your crew, [redacted], we’ll kill your crew

First lyric is because literally everyone has to scatter by the end of the book, and the second lyric just gave me their vibes, whether or not they truly ran the city. The last lyric makes me laugh because Colt really was about to kill the other crew, the ‘we’ is a lilll bit loose in that sense though LMFAO because I know damn well Toby was not ready to go down like that.

Stuntin’ Like My Daddy, Birdman ft. Lil Wayne [j]

What we doing? Getting money / What they doing? Hating on us, but they never cross / Cash money still a company, and, bitch, I'm the boss / And I be stuntin' like my daddy, stuntin' like my daddy

Colt and Teppei don’t get along, but I like to think that Colt not only bumps this song in his car, but secretly imagines that him and Teppei run L.A. – either together or with Colt taking the reins.

Takin’ Shots, Post Malone [p]

Drinkin’ all night, but we ain’t done yet / Waitin’ on the plug, but he ain’t come yet

Already losin’ control, this is the life that we chose

The first lyric and this song overall just give me club vibes, like the underground one they went to where MC wears that neon fit. The part in the second line that always gets me is ‘this is the life that we chose’ because being a part of this crew was a choice for most, and they knew what comes with this lifestyle.

Trouble on Central, Buddy [j]

So the entire song is pretty much the idea “I wish life were better and I’m daydreaming about how good things could be for me”. And to be honest, I think that the vibes of that fit Logan when he was young and broke, but at the same time, I could see Colt bumping this song in a convertible.

VEGAS, ABRA [j]

The whole song reminds me of the gambling scene and the high stakes of it. It kind of reads like the MC trying to fit in with dangerous criminals while she’s there despite the MPC thinking she’s not ready for it

#playchoices #choices rod #rodaw #ride or die: a bad boy romance #choices ride or die #playlist

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jaskiersvalley · 4 years

Note

You are the one who got me hooked on Eskel/Lambert and now I can't stop writing them together how did you do this to me, shipping by osmosis

Yes! Welcome to this small ship (a whole 46 stories on AO3). But our numbers are slowly growing. And I will also point you in the direction of @ohnomybreadsticks for some quality content, especially when slipping Cahir into the mix too (canon? What’s that?). To celebrate your joining of this ship, I have a really still idea to bestow upon you.

Arriving in a town with the promise of a contract, only to find another witcher had already been by was always annoying. Even worse when the locals had chased said witcher from their midst without payment and rushed into hurriedly packing his things. At least the locals let Geralt and Jaskier pay for a room as long as they moved on from the village the next day. They even gave them the same room that had been sullied by the previous witcher. For some reason, Geralt had stiffened upon entering the room, as if met by a familiar scent but he refused to elaborate so Jaskier shrugged. If it was important, he would find out. The next moment, his attention was taken up by a leaf of parchment poking out from under the bed. Curiosity piqued, he grabbed it in a rush even though he knew Geralt wouldn’t have gone near it anyway.

“-makes things bearable. I do hope he’s okay. While I keep an ear out for whispers of him and know I cannot walk my Path and his at the same time, I worry. Winter cannot come soon enough. Even if I can’t hold him like I’d want to, I can at least make sure he can take it easy and actually enjoy being alive for a change. I’d do so much more-”

It was too intimate, probably an entry from a journal that was falling apart. Jaskier’s hear squeezed at the idea of a witcher who was so obviously in love with someone that sounded like another witcher. Maybe he needed a bit of help in romancing the love of his life. Jaskier knew what it was like, to love a witcher and not be loved in return. Maybe he could help spare someone this miserable fate.

Finding a charmed bird was quite difficult and cost a good chunk of coin but Jaskier deemed it a worthy sacrifice. The pigeon would track the intended recipient of a letter and could be used as a way to communicate over long distances.

Dear Witcher,

I am but a humble bard who happened upon a page of your journal. Your plight sings to my heart as we both seem to love someone who walks the Path and we can but quiver in our boots and hope they return to our side after each separation. While return they do, our beloveds don’t seem to realise that we would bestow upon them more than our care as friends. May I offer you solace and friendship through these letters, as one fool in love with a witcher to another.

Jaskier tied that, along with the page he had found, along with a feather from one of his hats to the pigeon. It went its way and Jaskier could only hope his offer was taken for what it was, a genuine, heartfelt companion for the broken hearted.

It took two weeks for the pigeon to return, a fresh piece of parchment tied to its leg.

Bard,

This is a most unexpected letter, I didn’t even realise I lost a page from my journal. It’s almost full now and seen more than its fair share of battles. Thank you for returning it. As for the matter of its content, I would love to say it’s none of your business and never speak of it again. Yet, despite my best caution, I am intrigued to find another who claims to love a witcher. If you’re struggling for his affections, may I suggest you feed him? While my wolf is fiercely independent, he does always look so touched and bashful when presented with little delicacies he wouldn’t have treated himself to otherwise.

Best of luck on your quest to win a fortified heart, Witcher

It was a most exciting development, not once did the mysterious witcher tell Jaskier to stop contacting him, or even dishearten him. Instead, Jaskier had been given a hint on how to woo Geralt. New tactic in mind, Jaskier set about buying sweet cakes and pastries whenever he could and presenting them to Geralt. At first, it was met with offended bafflement but, slowly, over time, Jaskier could see the hopeful glances. Even better was when, out of the blue, Jaskier was presented with a blueberry tart - his absolute favourite.

Dear Witcher,

Thank you for your help. My own wolf has mellowed and seems appreciative, if confused, by the sudden treats. He even returned the gesture. Something I’ve found he likes is his hair being played with. Mustn’t call it brushing or styling! But a quiet night by a fire, fingers carding through his hair definitely help him relax. It’s such a beautiful sight, so much power and raw strength tamed by nothing more than gentle touch. Maybe, when you next see your wolf, he might enjoy an evening with his head in your lap too.

Tell me more about your wolf though, what’s he like? I know I suffer when I cannot sing about the heroic deeds and virtues of my wolf. As a bard, thankfully i have an outlet so my heart doesn’t burst with love. But I wonder who you have that will listen to your adorations.

May your Path lead you to your wolf’s heart. Bard

Letters went back and forth between this witcher and Jaskier. Any questions about the witcher himself were ignored or not quite answered and Jaskier could appreciate that. He did learn a lot though, this witcher was kind, he was much like Geralt in that he wouldn’t take payment if there was true suffering without the means to fund the services of a witcher. There were also a few self-deprecating comments which led Jaskier to believe that the man he was exchanging letters with was shy, probably quite a gentle soul that was hardened by decades of life as a witcher.

There was one time Jaskier fretted over his pen pal. A letter had arrived, it had splatters of blood and was written with by a shaking hand. Short and to the point, so much so that Jaskier could have wept.

Bard - treasure your wolf and hold him close at night. They’re getting colder and longer. When he’s hurt, sing him a lullaby of old and even when it looks hopeless, you can be his guiding light. Remind him he’s never alone while he’s got you. Don’t let him waste your beset years together just because he’s a fool who cannot see all you have to offer.

That night, Jaskier pulled his bedroll closer and was surprised when Geralt easily allowed him to press close. Jaskier held his wolf not just for himself but for the mystery witcher who was likely injured and alone somewhere out there in the big wide world.

The exchange of letters continued. Jaskier learned about the witcher’s wolf, that he was dedicated to the Path even though he cursed it and the life he had before that too. It really sounded like whoever this sad wolf was, he had led a life of anger and disappointment. No wonder he couldn’t let in this other witcher and accept the love shown, he probably had no frame of reference for what love looked like or how to deal with it.

My dearest Witcher,

Winter draws closer and I have been invited to accompany my wolf to his home. There, I will get to meet his family which is rather nerve-wracking. I’ve heard a few stories of his brothers and while I hope they will find me to their liking, I still worry. Maybe I will use your suggestions in moderation and bring them treats as well as be a quiet but steady presence, should they need a confidant.

I do hope your winter goes well and you are able to hold your wolf in your strong arms at long last. Be honest with him. If he is as cautious with his heart as you say, and as kind under all his snark and bluster, I should hope that he will either accept all the love you have to offer with a bit of huffing. Or he will be gentle but clear in his boundaries of what his heart can and cannot offer.

Keep in touch over this winter, I have grown fond of you and your thoughtful words. Bard

Trekking up to Kaer Morhen, Jaskier didn’t think he’d get a pigeon until stashed away in the keep. Winter was cold and harsh, it made him worry for his pigeon. Or rather, their pigeon because Jaskier had noted at the bird always came back so cared for, once or twice it even had the remnants of a flower collar around its throat. Sometimes it had been given a nice bath, the soft perfume still gently wafting from its wings.

Jaskier had no idea what to expect of Kaer Morhen. It was large, ominous and cold. Drafts whipped through it and made fires flicker. Introductions were made, Jaskier nodded at Vesemir, Eskel and Lambert. He didn’t miss the way Geralt looked between the two younger witchers. Obviously there was something going on there that was unusual but Jaskier didn’t know them well enough to probe.

Bard,

I’m safely back at the my winter home, surrounded by family and more. I say more because one of my brothers has brought a bard back with him. They reek of each other and it’s almost disgusting how in love they seem. The bard himself is so young. A bright ray of sunshine in this dreary old place. I don’t think these halls had ever echoed with song before. It’s annoying on some level but at the same time, his cheer and seemingly open adoration of all things witcher is disarming. Somehow, I get the feeling you would like him. If I can find out more about him, I might try and send him your way. Makes me wonder what it is about bards and witchers but now there are two pairs at least on this continent. Maybe I should shuck my swords and take up a lute if I want to keep my own wolf happy.

Stay safe and warm, hold your wolf close on these cold nights. Witcher P.S. I took your advice and laid my heart bare. I no longer sleep in my room and have never been happier.

Upon reading the letter, Jaskier squealed in delight. His witcher friend had a wolf to hold and love. Even if their Paths took opposing directions, they now both had someone for return to, to fight for.

My dearest Witcher,

Your letter was the best news. I am so pleased you and your wolf have found solace in each other. Long may your love last and may you keep each other safe. And please, do let me know of this other bard. I would love to meet him. As long as it isn’t that talentless hack, Vadlo Marx, imitating me once more. If it is, please do the world and your witcher brother a favour and snap his neck. Everyone will thank you for it in the long term, trust me.

I’ve only managed to fall in love with my wolf’s family. They’re a quiet, reserved bunch but absolutely endearing. And let me tell you about the love between two of them. I don’t think I’ve seen a love more true or pure. There’s so much I want to ask them about how they found peace with each other, how they manage out in the world without each other when on the Path. If I glean anything useful, I will be sure to pass it onto you and it might help ease your burdens when a new season rolls around.

Have a happy winter, Bard

Carefully, Jaskier fixed the letter to the pigeon and opened the window. However, the cold must have frightened it because it took off towards the door, flying through the keep with Jaskier running after it, yelling. They ended up in the kitchen where Eskel was lounging against the counter while Lambert kneaded some bread.

“Oh hello,” Eskel cooed at the pigeon and held a hand out for it to land. Grinning, he plucked the letter off with practised ease. “You came back a lot quicker than expected. Less than a day.”

Which was when Jaskier burst into the kitchen, huffing and puffing, glaring at the pigeon. He scooped the bird up from Eskel’s palm with a stern glare. “You are a little brat. Now look what you’ve done, lost my letter too. What are we going to do with you?”

Only listening with half an ear as Eskel read his letter, he paused and looked up at Jaskier in surprise.

“Bard?”

Realisation made Jaskier drop the pigeon. “Witcher? Which can only mean-” he turned to look at Lambert, “-wolf?”

“Which makes Geralt...” Eskel trailed off and let out a gruff huff as Jaskier launched himself at him in a hug.

“I am so happy for you!” Jaskier laughed brightly and Eskel could only return the hug, a smile of his own slowly blossoming across his face.

#geraskier #eskel/lambert #geralt of rivia #jaskier #eskel #lambert #tldr: jaskier and eskel become accidental pen pals

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undergroundkid · 3 years

Text

11. If I can have you I can do anything

What was supposed to be a sweet release, turned into obstinate mania.

However soothing Hyungwon’s affirmations were, there was no denying; your ego grew bigger than you let yourself realize. He might kiss your stained hands, hazed your thoughts, and erased doubts for a moment, but after toe-curling ecstasy, you were left with a bitter truth.

I am a bad person.

When you got off your new-proclaimed throne it didn’t hit you right away. Your wobbly legs barely held you up, hair stuck to your face, the muscles groaned in exasperation and hummed with delight simultaneously. Probably too many sensations still occupied your body and mind; so of course, it had to be Chae’s words that put you back in reality.

- This is your sin – he said, half-laying on the bed with an open shirt and sweat-kissed skin. Then he added with a small laugh:- Pride, Miss Y/N.

How this man could take you to the highest peak of pleasure and then throw you off straight into a freezing stream of maliciousness was beyond you. But he did it, time after time, always leaving you shocked when you should already learn.

Few days passed without sign of any of the apartment’s guests. Such a restful way should give you some peace when you could focus on your job in quiet. No sudden meetings, no suspicious events, no unprofessional situations with clients – just how it worked before.

It did work before you were aware of yourself. In the past, you didn’t have to ponder on your actions, because you always believed them to be the best you could do. Now the seed of the doubt was sowed, uncertainty always behind your back questioning your true motives.

It was tiring; you wished to be a silly doe once again.

You worked slower, not so actively pursuing your guests' attention. If your manager noticed, she didn’t mention it, simply burying you in paperwork. Or maybe she didn’t want to? Maybe she’s also like me? Perhaps we’re all egocentric creatures, pretending to care, only for our own advantage, without any selflessness?

- Child, you’re spacing out again. Everything’s alright?

Or perhaps not – there may be people with personal interest, like your mother. She looked at you intently, her hands moving uneasily; she must be worried.

- Oh, yes – the answer came out automatically:- Yes, I’m okay.

As you furrowed your brows, concerned why you won’t simply voice out your thoughts, your mom managed to drop her troubles. Your short reply sufficiently good to go her own merry way.

- Good! Hurry up sweetheart or you will be late to the hotel!

You nodded, empty inside once again. Only one purpose: work.

Chae told you there was greatness in evil. How could you not believe him, swept by powerful affirmations? Such a beautiful face of his will convince anyone. Sour veracity flowing from pretty lips, drowning you in his ideals.

- It does feel good, doesn’t it? – he took a rich grip of your thighs, not urging you, just enjoying the heat of your flesh. You looked at him with a small smile, relishing in the way his manhood slid sweetly along your slick walls. No hurry, only the delectation of erotic closeness, fulness again.. having him below you, the stunning man that downgraded you.

His hands moved to your backside, coercing you to move up his shaft. Betraying his lust like this, instinctual pressure to chase the climax made you tilt your head back with a chuckle.

You sat down fully, gripping him tight with inner muscles. Delighted by male’s hiss, you placed your hands on his sweated arms comfortably.

- You tell me – you responded, voice calm as you rose and sink down again; his broken sigh already an answer, but you couldn't help yourself and had to ask:- Does it feel good, Mr Chae?

It definitely did.

At that moment, you ate his words easily. Driven by his praises, easy acceptance of your dark side, you really felt like a goddess. But that was it, just a moment; the person changing into the receptionist’s uniform wasn’t a deity anymore. Not a scared doe either – just a fool, more angered by the idea of being arrogant shrew than the fact she jumped at another’s client's dick.

The discomposure after the encounter with Hyungwon fell short of the one with Mr. Changkyun. Shame ate you alive then, now just warmed up your ears and moistened the hands. The morals? Fitfully unstable.

- Y/N, I left the shift report on the desk, take a look – your colleague chirped at the exit in a typical pink-collar worker’s voice:- There were some complaints to take care of, I know you will do your best! See you next time!

Placing the responsibilities on me over and over; you had to bite your tongue to stop the thoughts. Where do they come from? Am I always presumptuous like this?

- Uh, Miss Y/N?

- Sorry, what’s up?

- The report? – young intern handed you papers, deciding to summarize it anyway:- Guests from the third floor claimed there’s loud music coming from somewhere.

- Music?

- Ah, it’s stated here – she pointed to the last paragraph. If the hotel has musicians or any other vocalists under their roof, the curfew doesn’t work? However skilled, 3 AM piano performance isn’t appreciated.

- Probably someone’s played the CD too loud.. can we even find out who was it?

- Oh hey, something’s wrong? – Yoonho cut in, emerging from behind the corner; your eyes met briefly before he focused on the apprentice. He didn’t stay in your company for long since your silly argument – if you could call it an argument at all. Funny boy, obvious to the suddenly high-pitched voice of the girl between you.

- Loud music? I didn’t hear anything yesterday and I stayed until midnight?

Huh, so he does avoid me.

- Well.. what.. what can we do? Should we stay tonight longer too? – her voice toned down with uncertainty.

- Ah, it doesn’t make sense.. you want to sit at the stairs and pretend to just chill out?

- Probably best if we check it out personally? I mean.. maybe we will hear this wonderful piano serenade room 322 wrote about?

You cringed your nose involuntarily, third-wheeling the awful teenage romance drama. Why the heck she’s so obsessed with him was unclear. He was sweet but way too childish.. proper good-looking at the best, especially among the clients here.

- You said piano? – porter chuckled with annoyance:- Oh, no worries then, your supervisor will solve this puzzle.

Did I say childish?

Yoonho looked at you with an upturned nose. He reminded you of an offended kid; still cute, but definitely testing his limits. Who the hell he thinks he is, little shit-

This is your sin, Miss Y/N.

Wait, why am I getting angry already? It’s nothing for the God’s sake..

Pride.

Oh no, I am better than this, better than you, him and everybody here-

- That’s true – you smiled your best service’s worker smile, taking younger acquaintance by surprise:- I think I can take care of it.

You could hear the song on the second floor already; it felt like you were the only one, the other guests not paying any attention to you or elegant tones vibrating in the air. It was a different melody than before, accompanied by a graceful male’s voice, singing the song in a language unknown to you.

The source of the complaint was found in the emergency staircase: the duet of an old piano and young man.

- Looks like we’re meeting again, Miss – the gentleman welcomed, changing the tempo of his song to more relaxing. His white sweater matched the room perfectly; with the new line of chords, he gave off a cozy aura.

- Mr. Yoo – you bowed:- I was looking for you. Did you decide to wander here last night perhaps?

- Is that a proper question from a young lady? – he shifted on a small bench, offering you a seat. You took it without hesitation, feeling at ease in his presence. The effect of his music, harmonic vocals, and polite behavior was soothing for your soul. Exactly what you needed after the vortex of the last events.

- We had a complaint about the noise, sir. You should finish the concert before 10 PM for everybody’s comfort.

- I see.. my apologies – he slouched a bit, big glasses sliding down his nose. He stopped playing to adjust them:- I thought it wasn’t a big deal. There’s a lot of loud singing at the night here.

Frowning was enough to make him explain.

- Intense, melodic .. and greatly feminine.

You could see the rising panic in your face from the reflection in Kihyun’s lenses; he just smiled, a little, almost with adoration.

- It was very beautiful – he assured, calming you down instantly. Soothing came naturally to him – surely he meant your latest stunts, yet his short affirmation was enough to put discomfort for later. No judging, maybe even a bit of understanding. Now you could simply enjoy his appeasing company.

His fingers started waltzing lazily on aged piano keys, filling the silence.

- It made me lonely – Mr. Yoo admitted:- Music makes me feel less miserable.

- I see.. hotel is full of people, but it doesn’t matter. I am sorry to hear this, sir.

A simple nod was the only answer. Seeing the man who until now provided nothing but comfort for you in sorrow mood was upsetting. He deserved better.

You lightly brushed your shoulder against his to lighten up the mood.

- I am here now, sir. With you.

He chuckled.

- That’s what I was hoping for.

Tiny tingling danced under your ribs for a few seconds. Letting it warm you up, then quelling it out habit – you shouldn’t let the simple compliments captivate you. Why you still held to the old manners you were taught? You didn’t exactly follow them lately. Quit the act already.

- Your presence.. conciliate me – hushed words, spoke with caution:- It did last time and so do now. I am afraid I will need it more.

- I.. can help, sir. Please call reception next time, we can talk?

Kihyun laughed, shaking his head with amusement.

- Dear Miss Y/N.. this solitude is a bottomless pit, unfortunately..

His hand came to your jawline, following the path behind your ear. He touched the delicate skin with eyes full of wonder.

- It will never be enough – he stated, then added with a sigh:- I am gluttonous like this.

Nobody wants to be lonely, after all – it’s human nature. He found out your dirty secrets and might want to take his own piece of this cake, hiding it under lame excuses.. but why would he do that? How can you suspect the most courteous man in this hotel? Always polite to you, adding some smarty remarks to keep you on your toes. No pushing your boundaries though – he acknowledged your actions without any criticism.

Maybe he is just alone, wishing for someone to heal the emptiness. What’s wrong with looking for affection anyway? It’s what led you to previous encounters, too. You were touch-starved. Both Changkyun and Hyungwon made you aware of it, appeased the basic hunger, then left you to hunt for yourself.

The doe became huntress, so you closed the gap between you and Yoo with an urgent kiss. He melted with pleasure, almost as if he was waiting for your move.

- So am I – you agreed, clenching his white sweater:- I am greedy, too, sir.

- Oh I can tell – he whispered with a snicker, staring at your moving hands.

The kisses became heated quickly. You were torn between admiring his foggy glasses and reddened lips. The gentleman was focused on chasing your mouth though, arms encircling your frame to close any possible space between you two. His soft touch contrast to your previous lovers, both Im and Chae more fervently urgent. Even your ex-boyfriend, your first.. however considerate he was of your virginity, his inexperience was clear. You didn’t blame him; he was a sweetheart, head over heels in love with you.. at some point at least.

Nonetheless, you couldn’t help but contemplate if he ever loved you for real. Maybe it was a stupid young crush and you stayed together out of habit, playing it safe. It looked like he wanted another type of partner inferring from his social media. No point in complaining now, you were both adults, going their own path.. his more of a party animal, yours.. well. Boring, uneventful, and stable until now; even so, still regretful.

Kihyun’s approach unlike anyone was making you feel treasured as if he was waiting a lifetime for a chance to have this moment. Hyungwon set you on a pedestal, that’s true, but he did it with mendacity, leaving you more mentally confused than before. The male beside you handled you with utter care, gracing you with a love-struck smile. You answered with a grin before you could catch yourself. What a lovely man, worthy of the best, yet he was with you and it seemed to make him the happiest.

Maybe I can honestly bring him joy, maybe I.. maybe I am not as bad as I thought of myself.

Your hands trembled, which didn’t go unnoticed by your partner. He instantly shifted to meet your eyes properly, observing your face for any kind of discomfort. His concern practically startling, given how unused you were to that level of care. Nobody paid attention to your feelings much, obvious hardship dismissed even by your own mother.

This man did on the other hand. He worried about trivial troubled gesture, despite the hollowness of his heart.

I can help; I can be virtuous, whatever Chae implied. You felt he can be wrong this strong for the first time since his arrival.

- Something’s wrong, dear?

You shook your head dismissively.

- No – you answered, grazing male’s legs briefly:- Actually, quite the opposite.

He tried to ask again, however, was silenced with a quick kiss – to stop him from questioning and to provide a distraction from sneaking hands down his trousers, towards a recognizable bulge. He moaned straight into your mouth, such a pure noise you thought of it as your new favorite sound. You needed more of this dissolute melody then and there.

Driven by a desire to take care of your sweet lover, you slid between his legs on your knees.

- Ah, Miss Y/N – blush prominent on cheeks, he still tried to play it cool:- Don’t you favor me way too much?

You shushed him, massaging his crotch that was now your eye-level. He weakly tried to pry your hands with some gentle words, something among the lines of ladies first, although it didn’t stop you.

- Mr. Yoo – unzipping his pants, freeing him from briefs and still you didn’t shy away from his heated gaze:- I want to hear you sing more..

You had your goal now. Clear purpose helping you redeem yourself.

- Please, play the piano and sing – you requested, kissing the head of his erected member. He answered you with a shaky breath, which determined he needed a moment to collect himself. Cute.

The moment he started the new tune, your tongue glided along salty skin. He faltered for a few seconds, picking up the tempo with trouble.

It made you smile; it made you powerful, once again, but at your own rules.

When Kihyun decided to sing, you swallowed him as much as you could. The vocals broke into a loud whine, fueling you to go even deeper, faster, wilder.

You could give him a piece of heaven, sneak peek into oblivion. It was possible without looking for own gain or offensive commentary. Just two people searching for the warmth of intimacy. He chanted foreign words above you out of breath, still harmonic as always and you sensed both your climaxes coming; his primal, your spiritual.

Cure the loneliness out of the pure heart. I don’t want anything, after all; just feel better.

Is that nothing? Or am I seeking for my own benefit?

The piano stuttered, chords losing original pace, throwing the song into chaos. Yoo’s voice slowed down to sinful groans with infrequent lyrics. He was close, exhalation hasty just like the thoughts coming through your head.

Am I proving Chae’s word wrong?

The piano stopped abruptly, some keys pressed together with a smash of Kihyun’s arm. He hid between his elbows and your head, uttering an uncommonly bashful cry. Bitter substance filled your mouth along with an even more savage realization.

You gulped down his cum, stunned enough to not care for typical male’s taste. Tucking him back into pants, mental nausea grew stronger every passing second. You hoped to bolt before facing him, however difficult it might be.

Pointless as expected, when your rose back again he embraced your hips with wobbly palms.

- Not so quick, Miss – sweated from orgasm, not any less handsome:- Let me return the favor.

Favor? It wasn’t a favor. Only a confirmation; you were corrupt as Hyungwon said you were. Determined to convince him you can be good simply because you couldn’t stand the insult. Too proud to admit the truth over again. Not able to accept the accusation so much it made you blow the first willing guy. Extra violation on your naughty list.

- You don’t have to – there was no use to drag the show anymore, so you opted to give up before you could regret it all even more. Kihyun opened his mouth to protest with what could be another wise-ass reply, but you beat him to it:

- We are all lonely in our pleasure in the end.

thank you for reading

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#shangri-la fc #my writing #monsta x fanfic #monsta x imagines #monsta x reader #hyungwon x reader #hyungwon imagine #kihyun x reader #kihyun imagine #monsta x smut #oops oh well #long post

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hiimsociallyawkward · 3 years

Text

his father's son

ayoo back again. these are always so much fun to make because otherwise it's me just yelling at my ipad of everything i'm thinking while exercising and singing show tunes and that's never fun. basically, all of my thoughts while watching his fathers son. hi bestie @lady-ofmagic-andstars

IS THIS WHAT I THINKI IT IS

KNIGHT RUNNING?

CAMELOT RED WITH THE CAPE FLUTTERING?

PLEASE

SAL;DFJSADLKFJASLDKFJASLDF

KNIGHT MERLIN

HE ACTUALLY LOOKS SO GOOD HOLY CRAP

ASLJSALFASD AND HIS FACE WHEN THEY FIGURE OUT THAT THAT THIS IS AN ATTACK

STOP THE EPISODE JUST STARTED 🥵🥵🥵

omg merlin is still wearing the cape wtf he looks so good pls bbc have mercy

go away now agravaine.

let me relish in the joy of merlin wearing a cape

damn

you're welcome for this btw 😎😎

stop 😭😭 not arthur thinking that he's not worthy

ok i wish knew arthur knew his destiny but also i know why he can't know but i just don't want him to be sad because he's doubting himself yk???

i actually hate agravaine actually stop i feel like it's harsh but drop dead please 🤪

arthur is so good he just wants peace. agravaine please stop you're making him doubt everything that he is

i wish arthur listened to merlin but after watching this ending i can appreciate it

'i can't just kill a man in cold blood' 🥺🥺

arthur don't push him away he's just trying to help 😪

merlin has his blankie 2x this episode and you better believe that i'm commenting both times

arthur is just. i feel so sad for him sometimes. he's still so young and he has to rule a country now and just-

i get why arthur is doing what he's doing and such but i'm still sad.

alskdjfaslkdfjasdf jeez arthur not knowing abt merlin's magic is just. wow this episode is starting off strong 🤪🤪

ARTHUR DON'T BE MEAN 'stick to what you do know'. i mean. fine i'm just sad. SOMEONE TELL ME WHY I'M SO SAD SO EARLY ON IN THE EPISODE IT JUST GETS WORSE I NEED TO STOP

agravaine please leave now

ok that was hot how arthur walked in after the fact though. 'arthur pendragon. pop off'

arthur just wants peace i'm so sad he doesn't want to kill him but jsalkdfjsal;dkfjasdf

watching spn i watch the beheading a lot so i was expecting it but this is merlin haha

GWEN

WHY IS SHE THE BEST I ACTUALLY LOVE THEM TOGETHER. fvck you agravaine. actually die. please STOp

ok so merlin says 'dont push your friends' and while arthur says that he doesn't need anyone, at least he doesn't say that merlin isn't his friend. it's the little victories 😭

these castles are actually gorgeous

agaravaine please die now. stop

you manipulating arthur by claiming these things will make arthur into a good king is just making me so sad

fricken 'appropritate person' aalskdfj;alskdjfasldf

i literally just want arthur to be happy

dude i'm like 13 mins in and i'm angsting so hard over this

'a matter of the heart'🥺🥺

agaravaine die please :,)))))))

ok i'm so sad for arthur

he's still so young and he has the weight of his entire kingdom on his shoulders. he just wants to be a good king for his citizens and he wants peace and every good thing is just taken from him. he doesn't want to kill caerleon. he wants to marry gwen. and we have FREAKING AGARVAINE. this is why we can't have nice things.

ok the arthur using merlin as a punching bag transitively but also literally?? idk my head is blank. but like; merlin is letting himself be used as a punching bag and also it's his 'duty' to let arthur use him as a punching bag? idk idk thoughts?

stfu i don't want these white old men saying long live the king

pls chill

alright alright morgana

she is actually p good at getting onto annis's side so i'll give her props for that

oh shoot kneeling down to the queen? this is a power move but not a power move yk?

CLOAK

ok this is dumb but i love seeing merlin meander around with his little chores

ok what is bbc thinking when they have the "oh i'd never sleep in a bed with merlin" am i supposed to laugh? well i'm not. alrighty then

gwen :,) look at her in her pretty dress

you're breaking my heart right now arthur

you're BREAKING GWEN'S heart right now arthur

laksdjf;laskdfjasdlfkj I. JUST. WANT. THEM. TO. BE. HAPPY. please i need to read fanfic i'm angsting too hard over this

you tell him gwen. you're a badass and arthur is a sadass

i will not take gwen hate or slander

oh frick i was voted onto my school's hoco court so basically i had to walk across the football field and i felt so awkward and arthur walking down the step while everyone stares at him; i wonder if he feels as awkward as i did

LMAO 'he's not alone gwen' and pan to the arthur standing on a cliff alone?? pls

aw the domesticity 🥺

leon ruffling merlin's hair and that clink was such a good clink

where were these knights last episode. i'm suing

saj;flasjslad and arthur just loking at them fondly pls. he's so sweet i love him

'he's our king' that line makes me feel stuff

arthur sdfsd;as i just want him to be happy

MERLINS BLANKIE. WHY IS HE SO CUTE

bruh 💀 i laughed at the pure absurdity of him tripping over the tent

ok ok you know that vine 'two bros chilling in a hot tub 5 ft apart bc they're not gay?' that but 'two bros, chilling in 2 separate tents 5 ft apart bc they're not gay'

was- was that supposed to be a slap?

arthur is so earnest here and i love him he's the sweetest

sa;ldkfjsldfa arthur being protective over merlin

annis is such a badass. actually queen energy here. literally

merlin saying that they're friends again and arthur not denying it :,))))

these knights are so honorable

stfu agaravaine

'only one person who is just an honorable... ME' - arthur pendragon. HAHA sorry i cackled at this

agaravaine. i stg if you look at morgana like that i'll actually gank you

you absolute freak pervert person

alright ik morgana is evil and everything but i stan her improvement in magic

like- can merlin please get on with learning more magic??

as;dlfkjasdlfkja THE RING. dude i can't rn

merlin saying 'camelot needs you alive', i'm going to say yes.. but also if we swap out 'camelot' with 'i' then this is just a perfect insert line for fanfics :,)

THANK YOU OLD FRIEND. PLS you can't do this to me

aw when arthur asks if merlin is ready and merlin says ready

dude this episode is making me a lot more sad than it should

dude what is annis's champion. like look at his shoes??? they're leather?? literally stab him in the foot and we're golden.

youre welcome for the feet pics ;)

ok idk abt you guys but i can't write fight scenes with swords that well so i just base fights off tv and stuff and if you want inspo this is a great fight to write

legit the first battle with arthur and lancelot in the courtyard? yea i stole that

omg even with the champion is on his knees he's still taller than arthur??

alsjfalskdjasldfkjas ARTHUR AND MERLIN MEETING EACH OTHERS EYES AND ARTHUR NOT KILLING ANNIS'S CHAMPION

dude the trope of 'you make me want to be a better person'?? please i live for this stuff

ok the knights saying long live the king? i love that

alright alright annis&arthur

annis is ACTUALLY queen energy i love her. i love her pop off queen

oh shoot annis hit morgana where it hurts. bring up uther that's right queen

oh yes more castle pics 🥵🥵🥵

a aaw the ceremony for them

merlin and arthur are PALS i love them togehter

stop. there are so many words but i'm so glad they're lads

arthur is lying so awkwardly on that bed HAHA

DUDE THIS IS SO PRETTY AND CUTE AND OH MY FRICKEN ALSKDFJALSDJFASDLFKJASDL. alrighty then

yes arthur you're a dumbass you're lucky that gwen is taking you bad she's a frickin badass biatch who doesn't need you

alright arthur say what you mean why don't you

are we.. are we gonna kiss rn

THE SOUND TRACK PLEASE I LOVE IT. THE ROMANCE SWELL I ACTULALY LOVE IT

THEY'RE SO PRETTY TOGETHER

i love arthur in his night clothes and his bare feet. like that just makes it feel so much more domestic and homely and they love each other and just everything they're actually everything. THEYRE SO CUTE.

ANYWAYS i'll be back next week to endlessly rant about a servant of two masters. thanks i love you bye 😘

#merlin #merlin bbc #arthur pendragon #bradley james #king arthur #gwen #angel coulby #morgana pendragon #katie mcgrath #gaius #agravaine hate squad #richard wilson #colin morgan #emrys #gwaine #lancelot #leon #pervical

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3pirouette · 3 years

Text

Fic: The Honey Trap (4/?)

Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Story Summary: Peggy’d lost count. She wasn’t sure if she was a double or triple agent at this point, and in the end, it didn’t matter. What mattered was getting out of this alive.

Chapter Summary: She almost couldn’t breathe sometimes with how much it hurt to sit and wait, knowing her coworkers were now snickering behind her back at the made-up stories, and knowing none of them understood how much she cared for that 98 pound man who’d stuttered at her in the backseat of a car as he called her beautiful.

Chapter A/N: Again, eyes to the time stamps. :) Progress will be slow and steady with this, and likely interrupted by Steggy Week on Tumblr, but it is far from abandoned. Thank you for all the support with this so far.

Chapter 4: The Theatrics

October 1944

Peggy pulled the door of the bathroom shut behind her, finally letting out a shaky breath as she flipped the lock into place. She nearly stumbled to the sink, leaning her hands on the cold porcelain.

She needed something to ground her.

She looked up into the mirror, and knew it was a mistake.

Her eyes gave it all away, at least to her. They told volumes of how much it hurt, how much she was lying. She needed to get that under control, and fast, or the last four weeks of work were lost.

It hadn’t been difficult, at first, to slip into the typing pool. The work was boring and tedious but necessary, and she at least could make herself feel somewhat better knowing she was still doing important work for the war effort while she sat and waited for Wallace.

But after a few days, word got around and her co-workers got bold.

First it was Mary, at the next typewriter over, asking casually if Peggy had a beau. Then Florence from across the aisle piped in that she’d heard Peggy knew Captain America. She couldn’t exactly deny it, she needed word to get around so Wallace had a reason to talk to her, to pull her into Hydra, so she tried avoiding it. She hemmed and hawed, tried to look both lovelorn and sad.

She found that wasn’t too hard: she missed Steve terribly and the last image she had of him was burned into her brain. His sad, broken blue eyes watching her leave after smacking him wouldn’t leave her.

But then some of her co-workers got audacious.

She’d been under cover before, even deep cover where she’d had to say and do things she didn’t believe in or would have never done as herself to get information or to get what she needed. She knew this was no exception. But she’d never been in a situation where what she was lying about was so close to the truth. Pretending to betray crown and country was part of the job. She’d believed this would be no different.

Except the first time she heard one of the guys in the mailroom joke about her ‘serving under Captain America’ she felt all the air rush from her like she’d been punched in the chest.

The jokes and insinuations got bolder and filthier and just like every other female in the place, she didn’t have much she could do about it besides take it.

But every comment hidden in a joke, every insinuation that she was easy, every filthy wink and every invasive question kept the wound of leaving Steve fresh, kept the fear of him not waiting for her, of him eventually believing her betrayal, wide open.

She almost couldn’t breathe sometimes with how much it hurt to sit and wait, knowing her coworkers were now snickering behind her back at the made-up stories, and knowing none of them understood how much she cared for that 98 pound man who’d stuttered at her in the backseat of a car as he called her beautiful.

She tried to separate it, to tell herself that she’d fallen in love with Steve, that he was the man waiting for her and missing her, and that the Peggy Carter she was playing had been betrayed and played by the famous “Captain America.” It rarely worked, though.

What she did know was that it was easy now to look sad and lost and just a little bit desperate as she struggled to make friends in the typing pool. She’d come into it thinking she’d have to be standoffish, that she’d have to force the story Wallace so desperately needed to let them infiltrate Hydra, but she was sickened at how easy it was to simply let it happen and how well her co-workers played into it.

Peggy ran the cold water and let her wrists sit under it until it was almost painful, enough to recenter her and bring her mind back into focus. She’s seen Wallace around the building, but he still hadn’t made contact.

There was still so much to be done, and no room for her own life and needs to get in the way, not with Hydra still a threat.

~*~

November, 1944

She strolled the street, arm in arm with Wallace. He was rambling on about taking her somewhere to dinner, but she just kept a tight smile on her face.

She couldn’t let him know her heart skipped a beat every time she saw a set of broad shoulders and blonde hair on every GI that passed them in the street. She couldn’t let him know she was both terrified and excited about maybe seeing Steve because she knew the 107th was in London.

“Maggie?”

His voice, and concerned gaze, shook her out of her reverie. She still didn’t answer to Maggie right away, but she’d asked him to call her that. Sometimes his tone was just a little too close to Steve’s and it made her heart ache when he called her “Peg.”. She smiled up at him. “Sorry, lost in the clouds for a second.”

He hid his concern well, but she could still see the quick flicker of his eyes. “Ah, that’s my Maggie.” He laughed it off, knowing they were being watched by Hydra. He’d been romancing her for two weeks now, and Hydra was still unsure if they could trust her. Wallace was trying to keep from pushing too hard, and she knew she needed to make a convincing sell to the men who were listening to their wire for the next few dates. “Always got her beautiful head in the clouds.”

If he’d been a real suitor, she would have stepped away, unlinked their arms, and marched herself right home. As it was, she could only smile. “Oh, you know me so well.” She tried to make her voice light, but she knew it was still tight and clipped. “What had you asked?”

He turned her down the next block and pointed at two restaurants only a few doors down from each other, smiling. “Pub or French Bistro?”

They went to dinner here often, the Hydra surveillance team was centered in a building on the corner, and it made it easy for them to listen in. Peggy bit her lip and pretended to think hard between the places after she saw the curtain on the window at the corner move. She hated being watched. Though she liked the idea of wasting Hydra’s money and resources on a French bistro, she knew the poor place had just as few resources as the pub, and at least at the pub there might be more noise, more distraction. She couldn’t make it easy, though. “Oh, Richard,” she started, sounding exasperated and pulling at this coat, “We’ve come down here for dinner nearly every time we’ve been out. What about the little Italian place a few blocks down? Or a good old fish and chip?”

Richard Wallace smiled. He was a good sport, and great undercover agent. Despite her anxiety, she felt safe working with him, and he always seemed to know exactly which tactic she was taking right when she was taking it. “Aw, Mags, I was just…” he laughed anxiously, but his eyes glinted. “I know I get a little predictable sometimes, but maybe next time, ok? I was hoping you’d say the bistro this time, and maybe we could have a nice dinner, just the two of us.”

She looked at the bistro façade sadly, her eyes catching the movement in the apartment window again. She squeezed his arm and he squeezed back. “I just… what with the rationing, it just makes me sad every time I go in and it doesn’t taste the same.”

“I know,” he turned, pulling her back against the brick behind them to allow other pedestrians to pass, nodding his head. “And a Sheppard’s pie always tastes the same, no matter what.”

“Quite,” she finished with a smile.

“It’s just…” he reached down and held her hand, then tapped out a few letters in morse code against her palm as he took a slow, deep breath for their eves droppers to hear. Say no he tapped out, smiling at her. “I was just hoping if I romanced you a bit, you’d see how serious I am about you. That I’m ready to take everything to the next level.”

She didn’t have to feign the distraction, the way her eyes turned sharply from his across the street. It wasn’t Steve, but Barnes and Dugan who drew her eye, the laugh of the latter ringing out bright on the dreary night. They didn’t see her, but it was enough to send her into a tailspin.

“Maggie, are you…”

“The soldiers…” she bit out quickly, turning back to him. “There are just so many tonight. Why are there so many?” She used the anxiety, let it fuel her as she pressed forward. “Do you think there will be an attack?”

“Maggie, I…”

“I’ve been so nervous all day,” she clutched at his hands, squeezing tight. Up close, as she was, she could see the concern in his eyes for her. “When I was on the front, I knew what was coming. But now? Now I know nothing and I can’t stand not knowing and all you want to talk about is dating and duck a l’Orange?” She huffed, turning on her heel. “Richard, I—”

“I’ll take you home,” he interjected, turning her swiftly and moving her forward. “I didn’t mean to push.”

“No, I- I’m sorry. I’ve just been so nervous.” She stopped and took his hand gently. “I do like you, Richard.” She swallowed hard, but said the words she didn’t want to say anyway. “I was hurt, badly. And so very, very recently.” She looked down and away, with her head at just enough of an angle to see that their audience had ceased trying to hide and was watching inconspicuously from the window. “I just don’t know if I’m ready for that again.”

He lifted her chin with his hand, looking at her. “I’m not gonna hurt you, Maggie. Not like he did.”

She stared at him for a moment, then squeezed his hand. “You’re right. I think it’s best I go home tonight.”

“I’ll walk you, then,” he replied gently, moving them forward slowly.

You ok? He tapped out on her hand gently as they moved along the sidewalk.

Fine. She tapped back, head held high and straight forward.

They both knew it wasn’t the truth.

~*~

That Night

Dugan sat across from Barnes in the small Pub, eyeing his hat as the two men waited for their drinks. “You saw her, too, didn’t you?” he nearly whispered.

“I’m pretty sure it’s why Stevie didn’t want to come out tonight. He knows she’s here. Didn’t want to bump into her.” Barnes smiled up at the waiter as he dropped the mugs of beer off, pulling one towards him and taking a long pull. He winced at the warmth, but took another sip as warm beer was better than no beer.

Dugan winced himself, but was likewise undeterred. He looked at Barnes and folded his hands. “You ever get a clear story outta him about what happened?”

Bucky shook his head and looked away, smiling at a woman standing by the bar with her friend. “No.” He turned back to Dugan when another GI stepped up to the girl and her attention was pulled elsewhere. “No, I—” He sighed and stalled for time with another long drink. “Same bullshit he’s telling everyone.”

“Which is bullshit,” Dugan added, leaning on the table. “We both know the two of them weren’t just some… some…”

“She’s not some two-bit hussy sleeping with soldiers and Steve’s not an idiot.” Bucky bit out, remembering her face as he left her behind the mess, eyes wide with hurt and betrayal. “Stupid,” he mumbled, taking another sip, “but not an idiot.” Bucky shook his head and winced. “And neither is Phillips. No way the old man missed that clip in the newsreels.”

Dugan laughed, running his finger up and down the side of the mug, playing with the condensation. “Right? I was shocked as hell he let that get through.”

The two men were quiet for a moment, content to sip their warm beer and be anywhere other than a tented army base.

Bucky leaned back, spinning his empty mug and signaling for a refill. He let out a harsh sigh and shook his head as he pulled on his ear. “You don’t think… nah.”

Dugan chuckled and leaned forward. “That Phillips let that slip for a reason?”

Bucky leaned forward on the table in a flash, whispering. “It’s the only thing that makes sense- But, why?”

The men leaned back, silent, as the waiter dropped two more mugs on the table and took away the empty ones. They were ready for the warm, flat beer this time as they each took a sip, waiting and thinking.

“She is a spy,” Dugan started quietly. “Maybe she needed an out, or a cover, or something like that?”

Barnes shook his head, cradling his beer close to him. “But why drag Steve into it? Why all the theatrics?”

“She, uh…” Dugan swallowed hard and seemed a little uncomfortable bringing the obvious up. “She was with some guy. They did seem… close.”

Barnes slowly swallowed a mouthful of the beer, face sour. “I don’t like this at all.”

“The beer or the situation?” Dugan asked, trying to lighten the mood.

He winced. “Neither of them, any more than you like it.”

In one swift move Dugan drained the rest of his beer and stood, setting his bowler on his head. “C’mon. If she’s out an about, we better go keep him company inside somewhere before he gets into trouble.”

Bucky stood and drained his own mug, following out as he mumbled, “Stupid fool always seems to be getting himself in trouble, no matter what I do.”

#Steggy Fic #3P's Fic #Steggy #The Honey Trap

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thorne93 · 3 years

Text

The Stars Made Us (Part 12)

Prompt: In this world, you’re one of the “lucky” ones who got a soulmate, but what if the universe gives you more than you bargained for?

(Prompt challenge – You live in a world where your soulmate can write on their skin and you will get the writing on your own and vice versa. Where they can wash away the ink on their own skin, however, the writing is forever scarred onto your skin until you meet face to face)

Word Count: 2671

Warnings: angst and language throughout

Notes: This was supposed to be for @sorryimacrapwriter and their challenge like a year ago, I think? I still loved the prompt though and have been working on this story for quite some time. This aesthetic was made by @dontshootmespence, thank you so much! Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes, couldn’t have done it without you, as well as @carryonmyswansong and @arrow-guy and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo

Also, I’ve never really liked the whole soulmate AU thing idea, but this felt so right and it was amazing to write. I hope y’all love it too!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Y/N,” Charles started but you just glared at him before holding a finger up to silence him. Once you got it ordered you stuffed your phone back in your purse.

“Y/N, please, I didn’t mean to slip up about the move,” he tried again.

“We’ll talk about this when we aren’t on my parents front yard,” you responded with a calmed anger.

Pretty soon, an uber was there to pick you up and take you to your home. You didn’t look at Charles once and you wondered if he was reading your mind. He promised he never would, but you two hadn’t argued like this before.

Your luggage was set down and you were well prepared to just start boxing up what you could when Charles spoke again.

“Please talk to me. You said we would talk about it later,” he begged.

You slammed the books that you’d pulled off your shelf on the table. “I asked you to do one thing! One thing! They were already upset. We could’ve salvaged it. But you had to open your big mouth.”

“It wasn’t on purpose! Besides, maybe if you had told your parents where you were and that we were coming it wouldn’t have been such a bomb to drop on them,” he countered.

“This is somehow my fault now?”

“No it’s not your fa--”

“It’s somehow my fault that you decided to throw the world’s biggest pity party and completely eradicate me from your life.”

“I didn’t eradicate you, I thought about you every day,” he argued through clenched teeth.

“What a nice sentiment,” you hissed. “Did me a lot of good while I worried day and night if you were dead or alive!”

Charles put his fingertips on his head before taking a deep breath. “Fine. You’re right. This isn’t your fault. Not alone anyway. I should’ve never cut you out the way I did, and you should’ve told your parents where you were and that we’d sorted our troubles out. Otherwise I look like the bad guy who fooled their daughter into loving him.”

You wanted to argue. You were so mad. At Charles for what he did, for what he said, and at your parents for not just listening to you. Why didn’t they just trust you? You sighed internally. Because they didn’t know him like you did. Sure, you could explain all of his powers, all of the troubles he faced, all of the loss he’s had but couldn’t they just trust you? Charles didn’t need to be exposed and exploited like that just so your parents would understand he’d never do anything like that again.

But you knew that he was right. Maybe if you’d called a month ago and explained everything, or at least told them he had a really rough year, they’d be more supportive of this. But as it stood, they only saw a man that hurt you deeply, and that you were perhaps too young or too love struck to see that he was really a charlatan, someone not to be trusted. Someone who would hurt you again.

Like your dad said, this wasn’t some silly high school break up. You’d put all romance on hold, saving everything for Charles, the day you’d finally meet. He was your boyfriend, your longstanding love. So when he stopped responding, it was almost as bad as a divorce. A once integral part of your day had disappeared without a trace and no way for you to know why or how it had happened.

But now he had no way to close you out. It would all be different now. If only you could make them understand.

With that, hot tears streamed down your face and Charles rushed to envelope you in his arms. “There, there. It’ll all be alright,” he assured.

You started to pull away. “I have packing to do,” you said through the lump in your throat.

He tugged you back against him. “No, you don’t. You have to meet with your landlord and the realtor tomorrow. I’ll get this all boxed up for you while you’re gone. But right now you’re upset. I am sorry for what I said, truly. It was a stupid mistake. As far as your parents, we’ll get them to come around. You’re they’re only daughter. They love you and they’ll understand in time that things happen in relationships.”

“You sure?” you asked, pressing your face into his shoulder.

“I’m positive,” he insisted, rubbing your back. “Why don’t you give me a grand tour to take your mind off things?”

You nodded, stepping away to wipe your nose and face. “Well, this is the kitchen,” you said, walking into the open area behind the counter. “Not much to see except a mixer. I’ve got a truck load of pots, pans, molds, and baking supplies though,” you said as you walked to the pantry. When you opened the doors you heard Charles gasp.

“That is a hell of a lot of kitchen utensils. I’m not sure we’ve got the room.”

You smiled. “I’ll make room.”

“This is your...office, I suppose?” he asked, gesturing to the dining area. The dining area was actually just a small breakfast table next to a large built in book case. The table was littered with books and notebooks. “I took you to be a lot more organized than this,” he tsked.

“Oh, well excuse me for not having maids,” you retorted, making a sour face.

He laughed. “Touchy, touchy. And the bedroom?”

“Are you trying to be clever?” you asked with a cocked brow.

“No, but if it’s working, I’m certainly happy to be of service.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not. Let me show you the bathroom. I redid it myself,” you boasted, taking his hand and leading him all around. You showed him every room, and he often asked about unique items you had. You showed up your patio and yard, sharing times you’d sat out there for hours sending him text messages. Every room, every foot was a memory soaked in Charles’s presence, whether he knew it or not.

By the end of the evening, you two had fallen asleep in each other’s arms on top of the blankets in your room -- soon to be your old room.

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

You stirred when the sun hit your eyes. You forgot to draw the shades closed last night. When you began to move, it woke Charles who groaned in the most adorable way.

“Good morning,” you greeted in a warm voice.

“Mmm, morning.” He rolled and kissed your head. “You ready for your day?”

“I will be after six more hours of sleep,” you moaned, rolling into him. How magically blissful it was to wake up next to him.

He chuckled. “I guess we should start the day,” he suggested, reluctance in his voice.

“You’re right.” And so the two of you got up, you grabbed a shower and Charles got dressed. While you were getting ready, you went over the plan for the day. “Okay, so I’m going to meet with the realtor, then I have to go meet my landlord -- shoot that reminds me I need to grab some boxes to box up my office. I’ll have to run and do that too.”

“And while you’re gone, I’ll box up the house,” he noted.

“Thanks.”

“Any preference? Would you like all fragile things in one box, or how do you like it?”

“However you think is best. I think I'd prefer to keep all the stuff organized by room.”

“I’ll try my best,” he offered and you smiled at him in the mirror as you curled your hair and he began to brush his teeth.

Once you two were all ready, you began your day. Charles started in the room you had the least amount of stuff in - the dining room. It was a dining table and a small chest filled with recipe books. You met with your landlord first for the office. You gave him the date you’d be gone and you two revised the lease agreement. Your lease wasn’t up for another few months but because you’d been a great tenant, he decided to let you close the agreement for the end of the month.

After that, your stop was the realtor’s and she said she needed to come see your home.

When you got home, Charles had only gotten one room completely packed and had started on the living room.

“Ugh,” you groaned. “I really need to go through all this stuff. I’d hate to pack it, just to find out I need to throw it away when it gets there.”

“We can always go through everything together,” he suggested.

“Actually, we need to clean. The realtor is coming over to give me a loose appraisal,” you sighed. “Guess we should order pizza and get started. I’ll start throwing stuff out tomorrow,” you conceded.

Charles nodded and you two began cleaning the kitchen like crazy.

The night drug on, and around 11 pm, you finally called it quits. You’d scrubbed, brushed, dusted, mopped two rooms. The rest would have to wait until the morning.

So it did.

The next morning, you spent all day cleaning until the realtor arrived at 5, did a thorough walkthrough, showed you comparable homes in the area, then discussed how she worked. Once you agreed on a list price and her commission, she said she’d get the papers to you tomorrow. At that point, you began to go through old files in your office and books. You were surprised at how much you actually threw away.

The next day, the realtor and your landlord had their paperwork ready to be signed. You headed into the city to sign the documents and box up your office.

Shortly after you left though, Charles had a thought. He ordered an uber and took it all the way to your parents house.

When he arrived, he wasn’t entirely sure what he’d say. He had planned part of it, he’d been thinking about what to say ever since your parents had shown their disapproval. He’d practiced several speeches, gone over many mock conversations in his head, but now that he stood on the doorstep, he wasn’t sure anything he said would be right, or if he should even be here.

He wondered that too -- if he was overstepping a boundary, talking to your parents when you hadn’t asked him to, but he knew how close you were to them and he didn’t want to see that end just because the two of you were in love. He felt he had a duty to try and mend things, make them understand if he could.

He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. When they answered, they weren’t overly hateful or cruel, but they weren’t exactly thrilled either.

“Charles?” your mother, Tracy, greeted. “Where’s Y/N?” she asked, poking her head out a bit to peer around.

“She’s not here, Mrs. Y/L/N, it’s just me. I was wondering if we could talk?” he inquired. He desperately wanted to use his powers but invading your parents privacy like that to gain an edge in this dispute felt wrong on many levels. No, he needed to fight this battle fair and square.

Tracy eyed him up and down curiously before glancing to her husband, Frank. He bobbed his head side to side, falling into submission. She nodded and opened the door wider and stepped back to let Charles in.

“So where is Y/N?” Frank asked, crossing his arms.

“She’s signing papers. Putting the house up for sale and releasing her office.”

“Ah,” Frank said, nodding his head in disbelief. “So why are you here?”

“If I may,” he offered, gesturing to the living room. The two of them nodded before leading him to the sitting area. He sat on the chair and they sat adjacent to him on the couch. “I...love your daughter. I know what I did was...awful. To be honest, I haven’t forgiven myself for how I treated her. She didn’t deserve that, at all.”

“No, she didn’t,” Frank agreed quickly and harshly.

“I lost a dear friend. A girl I grew up with. She’s really like a sister to me, she was raised with me, my parents took her in when she had nowhere to go. She and I had an argument, a rather nasty fight, and she left with another man I called friend. I haven’t heard from them in over a year. On top of that, I started a school for special children, at my home. I completely renovated it to function as a school and boarding home. Only, after a semester I was met with so many threats and opposition, I had to close down the school, for the safe and sake of the children.”

Your parents shifted uncomfortably as they listened.

“On top of this, I was paralyzed. The friend that took my sister away… he accidentally shot me in the back, and left me paralyzed. I was only able to cope with the pain through a strong drug a very dear friend of mine created -- he’s a scientist, you see. He’s an engineer, a biochemist, he can do anything. He created a serum that helped me to walk and not feel pain, but my other… motor functions weren’t as good, my mind would be a bit foggy. So I could either be in pain, but have mental clarity, or numb it, as best I could. I chose to numb it, to numb out everything I’d lost. I have other friends who were lost to tragic accidents. I’m not asking you to give me an excuse. I don’t deserve one. Y/N deserved the truth. I should’ve told her that I was in a dark place and that it would be best if we didn’t talk. Honestly, sometimes I think if I’d just reached out to her, she would have saved me from myself, but I didn’t. I reclused into myself. I was a very, very depressed person and didn’t want to bring her down with me. I supposed that when I got better, I’d contact her and tell her everything… but I never got better. As time went on and I didn’t hear from my sister or my friend, I just got worse. I sunk into a hole that was...very hard to get out of.”

“That’s all very sad,” Tracy offered, “but you hurt our daughter very deeply.”

“I know,” he agreed softly. “I just want you to know it wasn’t intentional.”

“Intentional or not,” Frank began, “she reached out several times. She showed us she did, and you couldn’t even send her a message back.”

All he could do was shrug. “As I said, I was in a dark place. However, I was also in a place to do it. She didn’t know my name, who I was, or how to contact me other than by text or email. It was easy to keep her away, to keep her at bay. But now, she knows me, I know her, and I can’t imagine life without her. I will do everything I can to make her as happy as she can possibly be,” he vowed.

Tracy and Frank glanced at each other.

“I don’t want Y/N to get hurt, but as long as she’ll have me, I’ll be there for her, by her side. It’s where I belong. The universe put us together for a reason,” he pleaded.

However, they remained silent. Steadfast in their opposition of the relationship.

“Just… something to think about. I’ll leave you to it. I’m sorry to interrupt your day,” he softly apologized as he stood. Tracy nodded and stood to show him to the door while Frank seemed to stare into nothingness.

Charles had no idea if his words had any affect on them. He could have probed their mind but he felt that violated too much of their privacy. He wanted to do this the honorable way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#the star made us #charles xavier x reader #charles xavier fic #charles xavier #stephen strange #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange fic

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years

Text

Forsaken | Part 10

Summary: As one of the Forsaken, Jinyoung had no right to covet anything as his own. When he stumbles across you standing in the middle of the village he had plundered, the memories of old make him risk it all, clutching at the past in hopes for a better future.

Pairing: Park Jinyoung x reader

Genre: warrior au / star crossed lovers / angst / romance

Warnings: death, kidnapping, cursing, a myriad of emotions - this is a really sad love story.

Index: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

“I don’t know about you but it feels so freeing to be out here like this,” you commented with a skip to your step, Youngjae casting an exasperated look in your direction as he hobbled along with a cane to support him.

“Oh yes, how very wonderful when there’s not a soldier in sight to protect us.”

“Precisely!” You spun around and then grinned at Youngjae. “We could even run away together now.”

“What about Jinyoung? Don’t you worry about his heartache?”

You grinned. “He’ll find me. He did after all these years.”

“You’re foolish to think the Gods above would give you another chance if you threw away everything now.”

“I know, don’t worry I’m joking. Being completely free right now is all a pipe dream. Especially since we’re not without a warrior either.”

“Please don’t go saying because you’ve played with some weapons that you can now protect us-” Angling Youngjae to the tree line, you pointed out the shadow that you had noticed following along twenty minutes prior. “Oh. Not you then.”

“Still, I have my dagger so if anyone tries anything in the village, mark my words, I’ll stab them with it! Fear not, Youngjae!”

“I still don’t feel comfortable with you, but knowing we have Jackson following us puts me completely at ease.”

“Why, because I’m a woman?!”

“No, because you’re used to stabbing trees and stuffed bags, not humans.”

“Come a little closer and I’ll stab you instead!” you grumbled, folding your arms across your chest.

Youngjae chuckled heartily then and with the look in his eye, you called it a truce.

You were grateful for Jinyoung letting you leave the base. You hadn’t thought he would allow you out of his sights ever again, not that you would blame him for being like that. Whilst you craved the world being brighter and fuller than it was within that mountainside, you knew you couldn’t cope without seeing Jinyoung for long either.

Half the reason you were moving so fast, you realised, was so you could get back to him before dark.

Still, it was nice to head out with Youngjae. You liked him a great deal and could tell you complimented one another as friends. You were excited that he was coming along with you on your escape to Nowhere, and were determined to protect him at all costs.

You weren’t joking when you said you would stab anyone who threatened his safety.

It was nice to be doing something outside of the forest boundary line though. If you could pull off this trip to town with Youngjae, then surely you would be up for more in the future. You were hopeful that once settled in your new place together that you and Youngjae could journey to gather supplies more often, and Jackson could do so at your sides, not lurking within the shadows as he had so far.

The trip to the village took most of the morning, and after grabbing the order and a meal at the inn, you headed back in the direction you had ventured from. It was an hour into your journey home when you were startled to find Jackson running out from under the cover of the trees towards you both, throwing Youngjae over his shoulder and grabbing onto your hand. Diving behind a derelict building and the verge of a tree line, Jackson signalled for you all to be silent as he peered out from behind the wall at whatever it was that threatened your travels.

“Must we-”

He silenced your hushed question and continued to look out towards the road. It was then that you heard thundering hooves, and with a glance around Jackson, you saw the flag of the Rebellion held within a couple of the riders’ hands.

They were another battalion. Pressing yourself against the wall as flashes of the day you were kidnapped plagued you, you weren’t even aware they had fully passed by until Jackson was shaking you out of your reverie.

“Y/N, we must hurry now!”

“Why did Jinyoung let me go out if he knew there could be a battalion on the…” You trailed off then, your thoughts racing as your eyes peeled in the direction of the camp. You started to run, panic coursing throughout you.

Jackson caught up with you and pulled you back to his side. “He’ll be okay; it was you he was protecting in the first place.”

“He sent me out because he knew they were coming?”

“We had a spy tell of our plans to leave the Rebellion. Jinyoung knew Argo and his hunting team would come to interrogate. If he found you there then-”

“Then?”

“It doesn’t matter. Let’s just hurry back to safety. Youngjae, come on!”

“Do you know who the spy is?” you asked once Youngjae was at your side and Jackson shrugged. “Well, surely you have suspicions?”

“The ones in the radio tower,” Jackson offered and Youngjae gasped noisily.

“BamBam and Yugyeom?! Surely not. They’re boisterous but good kids.”

“BamBam was the last to be transferred to our base. He’s always been a bit on edge. He’s the perfect suspect to me.”

“Maybe he has a reason. He doesn’t seem like someone who would do it just to have fun.”

Jackson sighed. “Either way, he broke Jinyoung’s trust and he’s not one to be all that forgiving about it.”

“Then we must hurry to-”

“To?” Youngjae repeated at your sudden stillness, reaching out for your hand. “Y/N?”

“They’re coming back,” you murmured, hearing hooves once more.

Darting to glance over your shoulder, you were confused when you didn’t see the horses on the path behind you.

“It’s an ambush. They knew something was up, after all,” Jackson murmured, kicking himself into gear again. “Come on into the trees, the horses will find it harder within here.”

“We can’t expect Youngjae to rush! Jackson, this won’t work.”

“Go on without me,” the latter urged and you shook your head, latching onto his arm and helping him through the bramble and roots.

“I won’t leave you!”

“Nor will I. We’ll stay together,” Jackson announced, eyes peeled towards the road.

It was tough going getting deeper into the woods and yet, it seemed to help you disappear from the army searching for you. Jackson made you hide when it was needed, and then efficiently assisted you both over the overgrown territory.

You could tell this terrain was tiring Youngjae. “I don’t know how much more I can handle.”

“We need to get to safety, Youngjae.”

“You need to, not me. I’m meant to be dead anyway.”

Jackson grunted. “No one’s dying today.”

“Besides, I’m also meant to be rid of this world and here I am. Come on, Youngjae, lean on me.”

For some time, you managed to travel without any intrusion. Being this deep into the forest meant you had no idea if you were travelling the right way, and the lack of lighting made it harder for you to rely on your compass. You were certain you had made it away from your attackers when you neared a road that separated the density of the trees. It was quiet, and Jackson nodded once.

“Follow after me,” he instructed lowly, cautiously stepping out onto the road. You followed, holding Youngjae’s arm in yours.

It wasn’t until you were in the middle of the road when you realised just how deadly this was about to become. The swoosh of an arrow hurtled passed your ear and you pushed Youngjae behind you, trying to find your dagger amidst the open fire. However, Jackson’s scream startled you, your eyes widening as you watch him fall to the ground.

“Well, looky here. I found a wandering shadow. And what’s this he brings into my pathway? It wouldn’t be what that silly cat thinks he could hide from me, now would it? Catch them, boys.”

“Run, Y/N,” Youngjae said with a shove but you didn’t budge, unable to uproot yourself from his side.

You weren’t cut out for this world after all. In the face of danger, your mind blanked and you couldn’t protect either of the men you had grown fond of. You weren’t prepared for anything. Much like the daze you had been in when the fires began to burn all around you in your last home, you were far too easy to catch and incapable of helping Jackson spluttering on the ground behind you as the rough men captured you and threw you on their cart alongside Youngjae.

Gripping at your compass, you closed your eyes and willed your voice to make it to Jinyoung.

He was your only hope now.

The shock drove you into a dreamless slumber, in which you woke from when you were roughly tossed into some sort of holding cell. Youngjae landed with a cry beside you and you crawled over to his side, trying to check him over.

“How dare you hurt him, you monster!” you cried and the men merely laughed in good humour at your feeble statement.

“Did you hear that Tatum, we’re monsters.”

“Monsters seem to roam these lands a lot. Silly girl doesn’t know her place.”

“Rather be a monster than a prisoner, I’d say.”

“Don’t bother with them, Y/N. They are too rotten in the mind to care,” Youngjae breathed, trying to straighten up.

Your tears were falling freely. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“I didn’t do what I was trained to do by Jinyoung and-”

“There was no way you could have helped either of us in that situation. Maybe if you ran you would outdo them, but chances are, they would have caught you. It was what they set out to do in the first place.”

“We should have never left the camp.”

“It would have been a bloodbath if we hadn’t.”

You heaved out a shaky breath. “It could have still been.”

“Jinyoung is the cat he referred to. That man thinks he’s outwitted Jinyoung in some way. If Jackson is alive, he’ll alert Jinyoung, don’t you worry.”

“That’s what worries me. Jinyoung’s reflexes will react impulsively and we’ll all end up dead before we can escape this hell. We need to try and do something ourselves. If we can meet him in the middle, then maybe we have a better chance of getting away.”

“How? We’re locked up.”

“Not without back up,” you mentioned quietly, hiking your pant leg up just enough to show the hilt of your dagger. Youngjae grinned, reaching to smooth the fabric back down to conceal your weapon.

“What should we do next?”

“Do you ever wonder what you would do in the face of danger?”

Glancing at the older woman across the room, you sighed. “I’m not sure.”

“You should have a plan, my dear.”

“Why? Those with power will always stamp out the weak.”

“Are you saying you’re weak?” she wondered, coming over with a tray of cut fruit. She set it down on the table and then smiled warmly at you. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

“Maybe, but I don’t feel like I could fight.”

“If it meant your parents could come back?” she suggested and you blinked back the instant rise in emotions. “Or that boy, the one who owns your heart. If it was for them?”

“I wouldn’t hesitate to throw myself in harm’s way.”

“We should always prepare for the worst, and live for the best, my dear.”

“Hasn’t the worst already happened for me? I’m without them all.”

“You still hold onto your life, and that is most precious.”

“Some days…” you started, sighing heavily at her reproachful stare. “Grandmother, I really don’t get the lesson you are trying to teach me right now.”

“It’s okay not to have the answers in the beginning. It’s okay to feel hopeless. But I hope with time in your situation, you will know what your best move will be.”

Thinking of Jinyoung and how he always looked over his shoulder for what-ifs, you shook your head. “I can’t keep thinking like this. If something bad comes my way, then fate can decide if I’m worthy or not.”

“Why should you put such a burden on poor fate like that?!” she chastised, holding out a piece of pear to you. “Use your surroundings to your advantage. Think of what must be done to reach out and hold onto your loved ones again. One day you might be on your own without me in this world, and I need to know you will continue to fight even then.”

“What would I do in the face of danger?” you mused, taking a bite of the pear distractedly.

If it meant seeing your loved ones one last time, you hoped you would give it your all.

_________________

Part 11

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jonathanvik · 3 years

Text

Starlight Dream - Chapter 8

“Yes, suffer more!” A girl hiding behind a pillar said, watching her evil plan coming into motion. Emiyo watched from the sidelines expectantly, curious.

Emiyo waited and waited, but still, nobody screamed or howled in pain. She scanned around the packed food court and saw people going about their usual daily lives, laughing and having fun. Everything seemed normal, making Emiyo furrow her brow in confusion.

“Yes! Their suffering is so perfect!” The girl said again, her fairy partner smirking in satisfaction. The girl was a tiny thing, standing shorter than most pre-teen-aged girls. Her hair was bright pink, cut into a quick bob.

“Am I missing something?” Emiyo intensified her search, but found nothing but an average day at the mall.

“I don’t see anyone dead or unconscious.” Nyx flew around, searching for anything out of the ordinary. “It must be so subtle it’s invisible!”

“What, come on!” An annoyed teenage boy with pimples said behind a counter at a burger place. “I just filled that!”

“Hey, what gives? Where’s the ketchup? I’m in a hurry!” A customer said. “My movie starts in ten minutes!”

The boy winced. “Sorry, sir. I’ll get some right away.”

“Victory!” The girl said, her fist pumping upwards.

“Victory in what, exactly?” Emiyo asked behind the girl, who yelped in surprise.

“Emiyo, uh, hi! You aren’t usually out in the field.” Himari said, wearing a nervous grin on her face.

“Yeah, it’s nice to see you!” Liam, her partner, gave a reassuring smile.

“You never answered my question.”

“You know, magical girl stuff!” Himari said. “Causing all the suffering I can.”

Emiyo gestured to the calm food court, her patience thin. “What suffering?”

“Lots of it! We stole all that store’s condiments.” Liam replied. “Remember how annoyed that man was? He might miss the beginning of his movie! Now that employee needs to refill the condiment stand! What a bother, right?”

Himari gave an emphatic nod. “Right! And that worker got yelled at! No one likes that!”

Emiyo fought the urge to rub her temple, feeling a headache coming on. “This is your idea of suffering? Really?! Suffering is having your body crushed and living in never-ending agony. Suffering is losing everyone you’ve ever loved and having nothing to live for. Suffering is living in a nuclear wasteland!”

“That boy seemed pretty miserable to me,” Himari muttered under her breath.

Himari coughed, regaining her confidence. “I think you’re a little confused. I’m actually playing the long game!”

Despite herself, this piqued Emiyo’s interest. Perhaps she’d misjudged the girl?

“Yeah, nuclear wastelands are great and all, but it’s tacky and too easy.” Himari puffed out her chest. “I’m destroying worlds with a thousand cuts!”

“Sorry, what?”

“It’s simple. I’m causing countless small instances of suffering so they’ll build into something greater and more explosive. People will bottle up their frustration until they burst and cause untold havoc!”

Emiyo’s eye twitched. “This is your brilliant plan, really?”

“Totally evil, right?” The girl and her partner gave an emphatic nod.

In her head, Emiyo’s headache intensified. “No wonder the suffering levels in your universes have only increased by .00000000001 percent.”

“I’m playing the long game.”

“For two hundred years?!”

“The very long game.”

You incompetent little! Emiyo wanted to throttle the girl but kept professional calm. An outburst would be unseemly. “If this is the caliber of sector 8’s magical girls, no wonder the suffering levels haven’t increased much.”

Of sector 8’s magical girls, Himari is one of the few remaining who still lived. Emiyo had found the others dead, killed by the rebel. Why didn’t she save Emiyo the trouble and kill Himari too? It’d be so easy!

“Look, I’m currently assessing the entirety of Sector 8. When I get back, your universes’ suffering better increase by at least twenty percent!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll just accelerate my plans somewhat.” Himari pulled out a small vial, smirking. “I plan to put this into the water supply!”

Hope sparked in Emiyo’s heart. Poisoning water was an excellent way to spread fear and panic!

“It makes the water taste funny. Not horrible, but still unpleasant.” Himari said. “It will force people to buy bottled water instead! What a needless expense, right?”

Emiyo put her face into her hands and screamed.

---

Takako howled in pain as her opponent tossed her onto the padded mat.

“Are you okay?” Seina asked, concerned.

“No, it’s fine.” She said, rubbing her bruised arm. Even without her magical girl powers, Seina hit like a truck. Takako returned to her feet, determined to go again. Her pride refused to leave until she’d scored several points against her rival.

“Darn it.” Takako cursed as her back struck the padded floor once again. “I’m much quicker than you. Yet, you keep beating me!” Somehow, the girl seemed more like a wall than a person, deflecting back everything Takako threw against her.

“That’s because you aren’t sticking with what I’ve been teaching you.” Mr. Kiyojiro said. “You always go for the dirty move rather than the practical one.”

“But it’s totally predictable and lame!” Takako waved a dismissive hand. “Not my style at all.”

Seina smiled. “I suppose, but you always leave yourself wide open. You aren’t working on your defense enough.”

Takako turned away. “Whatever. My genius is too brilliant for you to understand.”

Seina sighed, but a slight smile appeared on her lips. “Okay, Maeko. Fine. Want to go again?”

“Always, best out five?”

Despite her best efforts, Seina still won most exchanges, moving with lighting precision. Yet, Takako didn’t mind it. Instead, it only pushed her to work harder. She hadn’t been this excited in decades. Usually, she found her magical girl duties dull, but she enjoyed the challenge Seina presented. The fighting made her feel alive. It’d be a shame when Seina inevitably died in days ahead, but Takako would enjoy her company until then. They chatted as they walked across town, enjoying the scenery. People were working hard to rebuild, invigorated with a new purpose after the vampire’s fall. Despite herself, their grit and determination impressed Takako.

“Is that the new school?” Aiko looked down towards the skeleton of a building from their vantage point.

Seina flinched. “Yes, Lotus High School.”

“No way! The Prime Minister named a school after you?” Aiko beamed with pride.

“Yeah,” Seina replied, with little enthusiasm. “They wanted to call it Kamiyama High School, but I vetoed that idea. And the statue.”

Aiko rolled her eyes. “Please, you deserve some recognition! You saved the world!”

“I guess.” Seina said, still unhappy. Uncle Kenji is adamant I should attend it once it’s finished. Isn’t that the worst, going to a school named after you?”

“Don’t worry, I'll be by your side if anyone bugs you about it.” Aiko puffed out her chest. “Never thought I’d ever attend high school. I’m so looking forward to it. Do you think it’ll be anything like those mangas Maeko likes?”

“I hope so,” Seina said. “Clubs, romance, lunch on the roof, meeting with friends every day. It sounds nice.”

Takako rolled her eyes. The dullest, most ordinary things always infatuated Aiko and Seina. What next? Wanting to attend cram school too? Even thinking about it gave Takako bad memories.

“How about you, Maeko?” Aiko said. “What are you looking forward to in high school?” The two girls looked at her expectantly.

Shows what you know. I’m too old to care about things like high school! She paused, realizing, despite being several hundred years old, she’d never attended high school. Soon, both Seina and Aiko would have a much higher education level than her. Takako had run away from home long before high school age. Not that she cared, of course. Takako was smart enough without it.

“Eh, seems boring if you ask me,” Takako said, not impressed..

“How can you say that after the vampires basically starved us of any education?” Seina said, irritated. “I had to learn basic reading and math in secret! Uncle Kenji had to risk his life to teach me how to add!”

Takako took a step back, surprised by the usually meek girl’s angry outburst. “Okay, okay. Sorry,”

“I’m sorry too.” Seina said.” I lost my temper. It just frustrates me what basic things the vampires denied us. We were just things to them, not even people!”

“I know what you mean,” Aiko said, nodding. “But the vampires can’t stop us now! Humanity can’t be stopped!”

“Right! Oh, I can’t wait for high school to start!” Seina said dreamily. “Mr. Kiyojiro’s tutoring is great, but I want to learn from a real teacher! Uh, no offense, Mr. Kiyojiro.”

“I’m not offended.” Mr. Kiyojiro said, finally joining the conversation. “Teaching from random textbooks is awkward.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not a great teacher.”

“Oh, I don’t mind. Any chance to learn!” Seina replied, trying to reassure her bodyguard and tutor. “You’re doing an excellent job teaching me Japanese. It’s my favorite subject. And I’m not too shabby at English either.”

“Private tutor, you’re lucky. I just wish I could understand half of my lessons.” Aiko rolled her eyes. “Ms. Inouye still hasn’t created a coherent study plan yet.”

“Hey, the adults are working hard to teach you youngsters.” Mr. Kiyojiro said. “A few kinks in the plan aren’t unexpected. You’ve already lost too many years. How can you become proper adults without the proper education?”

“No argument here.” Aiko said, and Seina nodded.

“Sure, but being a proper adult means getting a job and paying taxes and rent.” Takako said, piping in.

Mr. Kiyojiro coughed into his fist. “Well, yes. But, that’s part of growing up. You can’t stay a child forever.”

“Except, Seina will stay a child forever,” Takako said, pointing out the flaw in the bodyguard’s logic.

“Not in my heart. I can get a job anyway!” Seina said, retorting the point.

“You actually want a job?” Takako asked in disbelief. It sounded like such a needless bother. “You’re a magical girl! There’s nothing stopping you from doing whatever you want.”

“Yes, actually,” Seina replied, puffing out her chest. “I’ll still be an adult, even if I appear ten!”

Colten’s eyes lit in awe. “You’re so responsible, Seina!”

Takako snorted. “Stupid if you ask me.”

“Trust me, Maeko,” Seina said. “Being a magical girl isn’t as appealing as it sounds.”

“Whatever. Well, I better get going.” After all that hard training, Takako wanted to gorge herself on shaved ice and watch some anime.

“Later!” Seina and Aiko waved as she left.

“You’re too comfortable with those two,” Lilha said from an alleyway. “You’d almost think you’d become friends.”

“Friends? Not likely.” Takako was too evil and hardhearted for such nonsense.

“Good,” Lilha replied. “Come. There are matters we need to discuss. It won’t be long until we’re ready.”

“You’re acting already? I’ve barely learned anything. Mr. Kiyojirois still teaching us the basics!”

Lilha raised an eyebrow. “Are we meant to wait years while you play with Seina?”

“We are both immortal.” For someone who was ageless, Lilha certainly was impatient. “Is it that important for you to return to your nightmare world?”

“We are vampires. We rule.”

“Okay, but why ban schools? Why make children work 70-hour weeks?” Takako couldn’t resist asking these questions any further.

“The humans needed to know their place. My husband was always adamant about grinding them down as much as possible.”

“Why? Aren’t these policies more likely to cause humanity’s extinction?”

“It wouldn’t get that far. We’d keep them alive. They are our pets.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Why?”

“You’re a magical girl. It’s your job to make people suffer.” Lilha gave her a pointed look, making Takako hesitate. It was true. Why was she caring about this?

“Well?”

“Have you lost your nerve? Don’t you hate Siena as deeply as I do? I’ve seen how she humiliates you. Are you happy always being her inferior?”

Takako stood straighter. “I’m the strongest. Always will be. We will kill Seina.”

“Good. I see no further use in having you train with Seina. You’ve learned enough. I fear you’re getting too cozy with her. It’s time we enact our plan.” Lilha shone with excitement. “By tomorrow, Seina Kamiyama will be dead!”

Takako nodded, realizing her doubts were foolish. This was what they’d agreed upon. She glanced back, watching Seina talking and laughing with her friends without a care in the world. It left a strange bitterness in Takako’s heart. But no, for the sake of the magical girls and Starlight Dream, Seina’s death was necessary. After giving the girl a final look, Takako focused on the task at hand. No more useless doubts or distractions.

---

“A day out? Sounds great!” Seina said. Mr. Kiyojiro had given them the day off, and they were debating how to best spend it.

Aiko beamed. “I know this cute little place that’s becoming really popular. It’s super trendy!”

“Clothes shopping?” Colten sighed from his perch on Seina’s head. “Okay.”

Seina patted her fairy friend on the head. “It won’t be long, then we’ll get some ice cream.”

Colten perked up. “Really?”

Aiko snorted in amusement. “You spoil him too much. Yes, I promise it’ll be quick. I haven’t forgotten you, Colten. I have some activities planned for you too. There’s this street performer I heard about that might interest you. He does Kamishibai.”

Colten’s eyes lit in excitement. It also piqued Seina’s interest. Since DVD players and working TVs were still rare, the art form had reemerged on Osaka’s streets to entertain people. Though because of her training, she hadn’t caught one yet. The art form used still pictures accompanied by the performer, who narrates the story. Her fairy partner bounced on her head, unable to contain his excitement, making Seina giggle.

“Kamishibai?” Maeko said, showing genuine interest. “I haven’t seen one of those in forever.” Mr. Kiyojiro nodded in agreement, also genuinely interested.

Seina blinked. “Really? How?” The vampires were strict about punishing anyone who dared defy their edicts. Even singing could get you killed. Maeko’s past was so bizarre. Did her taskmaster even do his job?

Maeko coughed into her fist. “When I was really young. You know, before the vampires.”

Seina nodded, embarrassed by her misunderstanding. Unfortunately, most of her memories before the darkness were scarce and blurry. Worse, they consisted of people she’d rather not consider. Their presence tainted her childhood worse than anything the vampires had done. It sent blazing furious hatred through her and almost brought tears to her eyes. Why had her parents’ betrayal hurt her so much? Despite trying to forget them, thoughts of them returned at random moments, hurting her all over again. Sensing his partner’s distress, Colten rubbed her back, calming her.

“Are you okay?” Maeko said, worried by Seina’s sudden change in mood.

“It’s fine.” Her parents didn’t matter anymore. Besides, she had a new family and they wouldn’t hurt her as they had.

“There’s this ramen stand that recently opened up. I’d like to try. Would you mind having lunch there?” Mr. Kiyojiro said.

“Sounds great. Is there anywhere else you’d like to go?” Seina felt guilty for dragging her bodyguard around town without his input. Was he as bored by girls shopping as Colten was? But Mr. Kiyojiro only waved his hand, indicating his wishes didn’t matter. After some consideration, Seina decided she’d at least allow him to pick where they’d eat supper too.

“I have a suggestion.” Maeko had been quiet throughout the entire conversation, drawing everyone’s attention. “Before going anywhere else, there’s this manga shop nearby I’d like to try. I heard it sells brand new manga. I’m curious if the rumors are true.”

“Sounds fun.” Aiko replied. “It will give Colten something to read while he’s waiting!”

Brand new manga? That sounded interesting. It brought a smile to Seina’s heart. Little by little, humanity was reclaiming their lives. The vampire’s reign was becoming a distant memory.

“Is this the right place?” Aiko glanced around, eying their surroundings with curiosity. They’d entered a part of Osaka that still remained mostly abandoned. The streets were empty, but Seina couldn’t help but feel she was being watched. Yet, when she looked, she spotted no one around. Odd.

“Just down this alley, and we’ll be there,” Maeko said, pointing towards a colorful sign that showed the shop’s name, Shinobu Manga Emporium. Seina peeked down the alley and saw an open door, seeing shelves of colorful manga ready for purchase.

A sense of wrongness overcame Seina, and she stopped her step. The feeling of being watched intensified, but she still couldn’t locate its source. Aiko picked on her anxiety.

“Is something the matter?” Aiko glaced around, a worried expression on her face.

Maeko snorted. “Nothing’s the matter. It’s just a manga shop.”

She gave her bodyguard a meaningful look, and he nodded in agreement. He’d also sensed the prevailing wrongness. “How about we go somewhere else? This place seems kinda sketchy.” Before Maeko could offer a retort, Seina jumped aside as a humongous axe flew towards where her head had been a moment earlier. It flew past and crashed into a nearby building leveling it with a resounding crash.

A large vampire emerged from literally nowhere, brandishing an axe almost larger than his body. “You got lucky. Next time I won't miss.” Several more muscular vampires emerged, surrounding them. Aiko screamed in terror and hid behind Seina.

Maeko rubbed her temple. “Jentin, you idiot! Your eagerness alerted her to the trap. Never mind. We do this the hard way instead!” Much to Seina’s shock, her friend pulled out a brooch similar to hers. “Change Change, Magical Love Genocide Dress Up!”

What the heck was happening? The veil of illusion disappeared, revealing a face she hadn’t expected. “Takako?”

The dark magical girl smirked. “Is it that shocking? Now be a good girl and die.” She pointed her black pistol point-blank towards Seina’s midsection and fired

#starlight dream #parody #humor #anime #anime stories #vampires #story #stories #written story #fiction #Adventure #magical girl

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mythologyfolklore · 3 years

Text

Ares has a bad day

“WHY THE FUCK WON'T YOU DIE???”, the war god shrieked furiously, while while stabbing a random mortal soldier like there was no tomorrow.

Dammit, that little fucker should have been long dead by now! Instead he just lay on the ground screaming and crying in agony like a bitch – but he just wouldn't die!!!

“I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE, JUST KILL ME, OHMYGODS-”

“I'm trying, alright?!”, Ares snapped. “Now shut the fuck up! I gotta think …”

But that was kind of hard with thousands of mortal warriors lying around the battlefield similarly screaming and bleeding out.

Which both aggravated and confused the war god; why were they all still alive?! Where was the fun in war, if no one died?!? How was that even possible, most of them should have died of their wounds.

Why was no one dying?!

Where were the Keres? Where was Thanatos?!

Wait … exactly! Where the fuck was Death?!

He would have to give Hades a call. Surely, the King of Erebos would have answers.

“Ares … Ares … ARES, PICK UP THE CALL, DAMNIT!!!”

The war god jumped, but groaned in annoyance and produced his far-speaker.

“Hello, this is Ares, god of terrible war, what do you want?”

A sigh on the other end: “Ares, it's me. Your uncle Hades.”

“Oh, hey! Yeah, listen, there's a problem up here …”

“No one is dying?”

“Yeah. Uncle, where is Thanatos?!”

“Tartaros, if I know!”

“What the fuck?!”

“Yeah. No one has died in over a year! Listen, Ares, I can't leave Erebos because of my work, so you have to help me out – please. I have quotas to fill!”

“What, so you don't lose out to Ereshkigal and Hel again?”, Ares teased.

There was an annoyed grumble at the other end of the line: “Haha, very funny, you git! Just go and get Thanatos back! The last time I saw him was when I sent him to get the criminal Sisyphos. He still hasn't returned and many people in need of the relief of gentle death are suffering. And the Keres are suddenly burdened with work they can't handle. Just yesterday they collapsed from exhaustion. And that disgusting mortal is still alive.”

“Oh, that guy! He killed his guests and cock-blocked my dad, didn't he?”

“NEPHEW!”

The war god winced and held the far-speaker away from his ear.

“What the fuck, don't scream into my ear! Alright, so that explains why no one's dyin' here. Yeah, I'll have found 'im by the evenin'. Expect me in your halls by the end of the day, with Thanatos and that fucker Sisyphos. See ya.” Then he ended the call.

Ares huffed in frustration and went off to find … wait. Where did that motherfucking arsehole live again? Oh right, Corinth …

Just an hour later, a very pissed-off war god burst through Sisyphos' front door.

Upon finding him (a mousy-looking man in his late 60s), he seized him by the tunic and roared: “ALRIGHT, YOU SON OF A BITCH, WHERE THE FUCK IS THANATOS?!”

Sisyphos stuttered: “U-uhm, y-you seem a bit upset, how about a drink fir-”

He didn't get to finish his sentence, because Ares knocked him out.

Scornfully the god looked down on the unconscious mortal. “Never mind, I'll find him by myself. Nice try though, but that has never worked on me!”

Then he searched the whole palace, until he got to the king's bedchamber. There he found a closet, which was unnecessarily covered in chains. Bingo.

With ease he tore the chains away, opened the closet and the weakened death god dropped before Ares' feet.

The war god grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. “Thanatos! Oi! Can you hear me? Wake up!”

Finally, but oh so slowly, Thanatos opened his eyes and blinked disorientatedly. “Wh-what … happened …?”

“Ya dumb fuck let that ugly bastard getcha drunk and lock ya in a fucking closet, so I had to come here to save ya 'cause no one's dying! What the fuck, man! You had one job! How am I supposed to have fun, if no one is d-mhmph????”

Ares froze, when Thanatos pressed his chapped lips to his own.

“Thank you”, he croaked, before passing out.

For a few minutes Ares was paralysed.

Then he snapped out of his shock, vehemently wiped his mouth and stared at the son of Nyx in horror and disgust.

“Ewww! What the Tartaros is wrong with you! Damn, I feel like I'm in some cheesy romance play by Dionysos, where I have to save the damsel in distress or some weird shit. Now, where's your scythe … oh, there it is!”

With a huff he grabbed the death god's scythe, threw him over his shoulders and dragged the mortal, the death god and the scythe straight down to the underworld.

There he throttled Kharon, until the old geezer gave him and Thanatos a ride and from there carried the poor god to the throne room, where Hades and Persephone were waiting.

“Ares!”, Persephone exclaimed and rose from her throne. “Welcome, my brother! Oh, you found Thanatos! Praise to Ananke!”

“Yeah, didn't take as long as I thought. Anyway, I think death boy here needs medical attention.”

Hades came over, shaking his head. “Really, nephew, I'll never get over how you talk about Thanatos like he isn't older than even myself. But let me see, wha- by the gloomy mists of Khaos!”

The war god had placed the unconscious Thanatos on the floor before the thrones.

The personification of death was – ironically so – more dead than alive.

“Found 'im stuffed and locked in a closet”, Ares told the royal couple. “Arsehole obviously didn't give him food or drink either. Speakin' of that mofo, he's waitin' outside the palace for someone to call him in to be judged and junk.”

Persephone nodded and waved over a few attendants to fetch nectar, ambrosia, a litter and some medical equipment. Then she bent over to examine Thanatos.

“Stretch his wings, so I can get a better look. Ares, what happened exactly?”

So he recounted everything in detail and Hades and Persephone were astounded, when he told them about that kiss.

“How odd”, Hades remarked. “Usually he only kisses his siblings and his mother.”

“I don't care, to whom he does it, as long as it isn't me!”, Ares snapped angrily.

“Now, brother”, Persephone tried to soothe him, “he was starved and dehydrated. Certainly he didn't actually mean to do this. He must have been delirious.”

“Whatever”, Ares grumbled. “I don't want him to do that ever again. Tell him that, when he wakes up. And give him my regards.”

Hades grinned: “Aw, you're leaving already? Don't you want a little snack, before you go?”

“Hades! That joke is getting old!”, cackled Persephone.

Ares just glared at the both of them – he really wasn't in the mood for this!

“No, thanks! I'm not stayin' here any longer! Bye!”

He returned to Olympos in a really bad mood and everybody took care to avoid him, while he was in that state. Grumpily he went to bed and hoped that tomorrow would be a better day.

Well, at least that came true: humans were dying again, just like they were supposed to.

He also received an apologetic letter from Thanatos. The death god wrote that he didn't remember much, but faintly recalled thinking that his twin-brother Hypnos was holding him in his arms.

Okaayyy … still, who the fuck kissed their twin on the mouth?!

Not even he and Enyo did that!

The children of Nyx were so weird!

#Greek Mythology #ares #thanatos #hades #persephone #sisyphos #ares just wants to see people kill each other

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by-nina · 3 years

Text

For auld lang syne, my dear (Coda)

AO3 | FFN Part III of For auld lang syne, my dear Rating: K+ Genre: Romance Word Count: 1,796

A/N: While it’s still January, it’s still a new year. So here’s the end of this story about dancing into a new year! Thanks to everyone who has followed this series, and special thanks to @megthemighty for having old Royai on her wishlist. I couldn’t not do it.

Roy turns quickly to Riza; the sight of her is enough to answer all of his questions. Her hair is more silver than blonde now, and her face has earned wrinkles for all her trouble of working with him all these years, seeing each plan through until the end. More importantly, it is a face that has never left his life.

The years pass one after the other, a decade lapses into the next. Then, the day comes for Roy Mustang to welcome one final new year as the Führer of Amestris.

It passes like every New Year’s Eve that has come before. The streets come alive with high spirits at the stroke of midnight, the sky blooming into brilliant red and green and gold against deep black. Friends come together in an embrace, children are lifted onto their fathers’ shoulders so they could watch the fireworks over the crowd, lovers kiss. Lovers dance. The music is as it has always been; throughout Central, the same traditional song of many New Year’s Eves past echoes down every street and in every citizen’s voice. An accompaniment for memories gone by and new beginnings yet to come.

This all goes on for fifteen minutes before the Führer’s men usher him forward to deliver a message to the public. Without an introduction, the revelers fall into a reverent silence, gazing at him upon the stage at the head of the plaza. There it is for one last time, that quintessential image of Roy Mustang at the podium, sure to be armed with words that are all at once soothing, inspiring, rallying, and most of all sincere. The crowd waits in awe and melancholy.

“My dear fellow Amestrians…”

His voice has kept the verve of his youth, albeit roughened by the years gone by.

“… I am filled with many emotions as I stand here before you tonight. First, I am delighted to join you in celebration of New Year’s Day, even more so to see you with your loved ones on this joyous occasion, safe, healthy, and hopeful as we begin another year of traversing the road we have built together for our great country.”

He pauses, his next words catching in his throat. He allows himself a moment’s glance to his right where she stands at attention, the people’s beloved Lieutenant Colonel Riza Hawkeye. As always, she is quick to catch his hesitation and subtle about her response. She meets his gaze, gives a small, imperceptible nod, seeming to everyone else like she didn’t move at all. He sees it, of course, and so he offers her a smile for barely even a second before he looks out to the plaza again.

“At the same time, it is with a heavy heart that I am welcoming the new year with you as your Führer for the last time.” Even the air seems to have turned still. “These twenty years have been devoted to shaping Amestris into a country whose heart beats with its people and for its people. With your unwavering support and belief in a future that belongs to you and not to one single institution or person in power, we have made this possible, and in the spring, you will be electing your very first President as a democratic nation.”

He stops for the thunderous applause that erupts throughout the crowd. There is hollering, triumphant exclamations, fists pumped in the air and arms linked together. It lasts for a minute or two before gradually but not completely fading into silence, and he continues. “And though I long to serve you for many more years, I take comfort in the knowledge of what I leave in your hands to protect. An Amestris that stands for what is just and right, where man and woman, rich and poor, black and white may stand together. Living equally, studying equally, eating and drinking equally… and loving equally.” Another pause. “And this can only be nurtured through you, the upstanding servants that you will soon choose to lead you, and we cannot forget the Ishval Tribunal by whose hard work we shall soon truly mend our country’s wrongs.

“My deepest, sincerest thanks to you all, and a happy New Year.”

Roy makes his way home quietly two hours later, after the festivities have died down. It’s the quietest drive he has been on, and the first he’s had with Riza in a very long time. Being the Führer, he sits in the back, as was their arrangement for a time when she had just become his adjutant many years ago. From there, he watches her drive, her eyes clear with focus, her hands firm on the wheel.

“I hope I haven’t kept you from a good night’s rest,” he says.

“I’d appreciate your concern, Sir,” she replies, “if you had asked me that four decades ago.”

Their eyes meet for a moment in the rear-view mirror, sharing a knowing, laughing look. Riza turns her attention back onto the road, and Roy continues staring at her reflection long after. He pairs it with a fond smile.

“I’ll drop you off at the front steps.”

After a moment, he responds quietly, “The garden, please, Lieutenant Colonel.”

Her fingers flex on the wheel in recognition of the invitation beneath his order. Riza says nothing other than, “Of course.”

The Führer’s palace is largely surrounded by lush orchards that hide the estate from public view, but “the garden” is an open expanse of flowering shrubs over a well-manicured slope behind the palace. It offers a view of part of Central and has served as a hideaway for Roy on nights when he has been stressed about politics as well as bothered by other, more personal things. For the former, Riza has accompanied him as his confidante, an adviser, a friend. For the latter, Roy has needed only to think of her.

Alighting the car, they walk quietly into the garden, steps perfectly synchronized and the distance between them constant. Riza remains behind him, her eyes surely watching him as they always have—Roy knows exactly how her gaze feels on him, even when he isn’t returning it. He is tempted to, but he walks on, searching for a word to describe the feeling and how it relates to the shiver running through him, the warmth blooming in his chest, and then he stops in his tracks. Riza follows suit. He looks up at the view stretching up to the horizon, the city still aglow with the remnants of the night’s celebrations, and he lets out a breath of disbelief.

“I can’t believe how far we’ve come.”

The words, uttered barely under his breath, give Roy release and clarity. It’s as if it were much earlier in the night and he were more awake.

“This is all we have worked for,” he continues. “All these years… all the plans we made, the dreams we’ve had for this country… it’s what all this time has been for. All our work, all our…” His voice begins to quiver, and he sounds most like his younger self now. “… promises.”

Roy looks down, away from the view. “Is it true, Lieutenant Colonel?”

“What is?” Riza whispers.

“Have we really done all that we’ve meant to do? It’s just… it’s all too good to be true, isn’t it? Everything happened so fast, these twenty years as the Führer are all a blur. Have I done enough for our people? Will they be happy with all of it? The reforms, the tribunal, the elections, the…”

He trails off, the words sinking into him as something of a revelation. Roy turns quickly to Riza; the sight of her is enough to answer all of his questions. Her hair is more silver than blonde now, and her face has earned wrinkles for all her trouble of working with him all these years, seeing each plan through until the end. More importantly, it is a face that has never left his life. There he sees the twirling girl from Cameron, his young adjutant, the first woman he ever loved, and the most devoted Lieutenant Colonel in Amestris, his right hand, the only woman he has ever loved.

Riza looks at him with an understanding he has only ever known from her. She nods, smiling. “It’s true,” she says. “I should know. We’ve been together long enough.”

She could never lie to him, not after all this time.

“Lieutenant Colonel Hawkeye.”

“General Mustang.”

Roy steps forward, closer to her.

“Riza.” He whispers her name as though he were being careful with it.

“... Roy.”

He extends his hand to her.

“Will you dance with me?”

When she takes his hand, when they pull each other close, it feels natural, easy even without any kind of rehearsal. Roy moves as she does, following her steps and letting her follow his. Riza no longer hesitates to touch like she did in the past. It's a dance of mostly swaying and turning in place, perhaps because it's all their tired bodies can allow at the moment, or because it's all they need to make of it. The rhythm isn't any different from any of the other things they've been able to do together, anyway, like taking their places at the same table or walking side by side. They know each other in this moment just as well as they have in any other.

They dance quietly until he begins to sing the Amestris holiday song in her ear. It’s far from the rendition he first gave her all those years ago—his voice breaks off quite a bit, underscored by breaths and a rumble that wasn't there at seventeen—but the circumstances are so different that it feels like the first time once again. Then, he falters at the last note and fades back into silence, because by now he can only continue the song one other way.

The first kiss, he leaves on her hand, which he brings easily to his lips from their positions as they dance.

The second, he places on her cheek, almost like a whisper, even though there is no secret they need to keep anymore.

And the third—the third dissipates in the scant, delicate space between them, because he is overwhelmed just by being near her. All they do instead is face each other, foreheads touching, lips close but still apart. For the first time, they are physically close enough not to yearn to get closer, close enough to melt by a flame they cannot even see or touch.

Neither of them knows how long they dance or when they stop. It ends with them standing perfectly still and embracing each other under the deep blue sky between late night and dawn. They’ve always understood each other even without words, but for the first time they are quiet because there is nothing left to say, no more unkept promises—not to their country, not to each other.

Nothing, at least, except, "Happy New Year."

The words hold a new promise: a dance that will go on for the rest of their days.

#Fullmetal Alchemist #Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood #FMA #FMAB #Royai #Roy Mustang #Riza Hawkeye #old Royai #fanfiction #fanfic #romance #writing #written by nina

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