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arvinsescape · 3 years

Text

His wife

Summary: Mobster Tom Holland was never going to get married and then he met her.

Warnings: Swearing, implied smut.

W/C: 1.9K

Tom Holland was one of the most feared men in London. He took over his family’s business at a young age and was growing more powerful by the year. He never thought he’d get married; he became so wrapped up in taking complete power throughout London that he never thought past one-night stands. Then he met her.

Tom walked into the club in hopes of finding a way of relaxing. He’d been cooped up in his office and meeting room all week and he needed a distraction for the night. He noticed her instantly, black dress that stopped just above her knees, a rare sight for one of his establishments. Most women would show up in the shortest and skimpiest looking outfits in hopes of the mobster taking them home for the night. Not her though.

He made his way over to where she was standing at the bar and was instantly taken back by her beauty. She wasn’t covered in a ridiculous amount of make-up, she let her natural beauty do the work for her. He’d found his distraction.

“Now what is a pretty girl like you doing at the bar alone?” He asked. Usually he would instantly be met with the batting of eyelashes and his job was half done. Not her.

“Does that line usually work?” She asked him amused.

“Every time love.” He fired back equally as amused. She’d laughed at that.

“Gonna have to try a little harder if you want to get me into bed.”

“Darling, you are aware of who I am?” He smirked.

“Very Mr Holland.” She’d challenged. Fuck that sounded hot coming out of her mouth.

“So you know I have a reputation for not disappointing.” He was being cocky now, hoping maybe she’d find that attractive.

“I’ve heard rumours. But what makes you think I want to sleep with you?” She asked, amused look on her face. He was somewhat taken aback by it, not used to having to work so hard, he liked it.

“Well most of the women that come in here hope to end up in my bed. Forgive me for assuming.” He tried. She snorted as she brought her drink up to her lips.

“Maybe I just came in for a drink?” She fired back. There was a hint of flirtation there but not enough for him to work with. He had never met anyone who challenged him like this and he found it that much more of a turn on.

He found himself distracted in a different way that evening. She was flirty but kept him at arm’s length. She challenged him and didn’t seem to have that look of fear in her eyes most people did when they spoke to him.

“So, I have to point out. You don’t want to sleep with me, yet here you still are?” He was close to her now and most bystanders could almost feel the sexual tension radiating off them. Tom included.

“Here I still am.” She leaned in a little closer to him, she snaked her arms around his shoulders which took him by surprise. Most of the women he encountered wanted him to dominate them from the second he met them. But here she was somewhat taking control. His hands instantly found her waist.

He wanted to kiss her but he wasn’t entirely sure it was just to get her into bed anymore. He found her intriguing. His wants took over and he found himself leaning closer to her. She moved one of her hands and slipped it into his suit. ‘Got you’ was all Tom thought and just as he was about to kiss her, she moved away from him.

He looked at her dumbfounded as did most of the bystanders. No one was used to seeing this.

“Mr Holland. I don’t kiss before a man has bought me coffee.” She’s said and this had him smirking as she winked before grabbing her purse and walking out of the club.

It wasn’t until he got home that night that he realised she’d slipped her number into his suit. He’d smiled upon finding it and found himself texting her almost daily. He learned a lot about her in a way he’d never taken the time to know anyone outside of his close family and friends. Usually he wanted to know about people for business purposes, but not her. He found himself wanting to know more and more about her, it was as if she was reeling him in, not the other way around.

It wasn’t until six months after that meeting that Tom found himself in bed with her and by that point he was hopelessly in love and completely wrapped around her little finger. Some people thought she was using him, that had been the rumour at first, women became jealous when they heard Tom Holland was off limits.

That was not the case at all, she was just as in love with him as he was with her. He found himself asking her to marry him eighteen months later. Some people said it was too fast but in his business, life held a different sort of meaning. It could be ripped from you any day. She’d not hesitated to say yes. They married six months later and became a powerhouse of London.

He loved everything about her. She wasn’t intimidated by the men around her; she was powerful in her own way. She knew she didn’t stand a chance physically but mentally she could outwit every man in the room. She was the reason he didn’t fail business deals, the reason he got what he wanted. She became someone he wanted there to close deals.

He remembers the first time she’d somewhat taken control in a meeting. He was negotiating territory with a mobster who was losing power but being stubborn about it. He wanted to avoid bloodshed with the older mobster, so he’d have to take it from him slowly.

“Ask for 50% Tom.” She’d said as she sat on the edge of his desk fixing his tie.

“He’s not going to give me that. I’m not sure he’ll be happy with 40.”

“No, but if he thinks you want 50, he’ll settle easier for 40. He knows you want to avoid bloodshed but he also knows he’d lose if it came to it so he has to give you something.” She’d said as she finished fixing his tie.

“You’re too clever for your own good my love.” He said as he placed his hands on her waist and she wrapped hers round his shoulders as she laughed. He thought it was a beautiful sound.

“Makes me wonder how I got everything done before.” He leant down to give her a kiss. The kiss quickly became heated as he moved her back further onto the desk. His hand was trailing up her thigh as she let out quiet whimpers against his lips.

Just as he was about to get where she needed him most someone knocked on the door. He stood as he brought her with him. She was smoothing out her dress as he spoke.

“Come in.” Harrison popped his head around the office door. He smirked when he took in her flushed state.

“He’s here.” Harrison said.

They’d been in the meeting for half an hour, you were sat on your husband’s lap as his arm was around your waist.

“Tell you what Holland, I’ll give you 40% if the lovely lady has a drink with me. A drink of my choice.” The older mobster said. She wondered for a second if he was purposely trying to rile Tom up.

“I’m a married woman.” She said as she smiled flirtingly at him. Tom tensed but she quickly smoothed a hand down his cheek to calm him down.

“What are you doing?” Tom had whispered into her ear.

“Trust me.” She whispered back as she kissed his cheek.

“Look, I understand that the lovely lady is off limits but what’s the harm in a drink?” The older mobster laughed. Of course, he chose whiskey, it was almost cliché. The strong whisky went down her throat easily as she downed the whole drink, she’d spent enough nights drinking with Tom and could drink as well as they could.

She placed her glass on the table, fingers still grasped around it. The older mobster had laughed when he saw it was empty. “I like you.” He said as he reached over and took her wrist in his hand. She panicked for a second but it quickly dies down. Tom was here. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her and it filled her with a confidence she’d never had before.

She felt as Tom reached for his gun and found herself stopping him as he looked at her confused but he trusted her, she asked him to so he would. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her but he knew she was powerful and a small part of him wanted to see how it would play out.

She looked the mobster straight in the eyes as she spoke.

“Continue to touch me and he’ll take 100% of your territory.” She smiled at him. Tom was impressed to say the least.

“Oh yeah? And how’s that sweetheart?” He fired back.

“All I have to do is ask and you’ll find yourself with a broken wrist and a bullet between your eyes.” She said in a sultry tone as her eyes flicked towards Tom. God, Tom was in love with this woman. “Now I’m not sure about everyone else but I know for certain my husband doesn’t want any stains on this lovely carpet and I wouldn’t want to upset him. He wants to avoid bloodshed but he won’t if you continue to make him angry.” She smirked. Tom swears to God he was instantly hard.

"Is that a threat little bird?" The mobster said and he watched as his wife leant over to speak in his ear.

"That's a promise." And he just came in pants.

Tom watched as fear flashed through the mobster’s eyes momentarily. ‘God, fuck, how did I get so lucky to marry her.’ He thought. The older man let out a loud laugh. “I like her Holland. I really do.” He said as he removed his hand.

Tom instantly relaxed when he saw the hand leave your wrist and he tightened his arm around her waist. They continued to make the deal and Tom found his hand wandering to hem of her dress every now and again. When they left, deal happily made he kissed along her shoulder.

“That was fucking hot.” He said as he kissed her neck. She smirked at him as he moved her back onto the meeting table.

After that she became his secret weapon, she knew what to do and she guided him in the direction of getting everything he wanted. He’d managed to start taking over quickly, he was avoiding fights and bloodshed when it was unnecessary because of her and it was keeping the police off his back, making his job easier. They were absolutely in love with each other and pushed each other to be better, to get what they wanted and although he never thought he’d get married he was so thankful he did.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x y/n #mob!tom

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youn9racha · 3 years

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Don’t Test Me

Requested by: @crzy-devil

Pairing: Jinyoungxmasc!reader (with a vag tho)

Words: 3.1 k

Warning: dom!reader, sub!jinyoung, consent being explicitly discussed, implied masturbation, mentions of pornography, implied dacryphilia, weapon play (fake gun), pegging, mentions of butt plugs, jinyoung in a short skirt, dirty talk, overstimulation

Extra Notes: wheewww finally my first got7 request ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ don’t get me wrong, i‘ve been enjoying writing skz chan and changbin smut but i’ve been meaning to write some got7 but i wouldn’t think anyone would read it :( but yay finally i got something. i pray i don’t fuck this up, and i hope this is okay everything you want 😔

photo edit is not mine

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This is no way representative of the way Got7 act. They’re nothing but references of character, and in no shape or form is this how they act. And I am in no way romanticizing or glamorizing any toxic behavior exhibited, they’re just stories that is meant to be read. Readers discretion is advised.

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You and Jinyoung have an interesting relationship to say the least. Jinyoung is always thought to be that dominant guy who’s always protective of the people whom he cares about, especially towards his partner. While that is true that he is protective and caring, however no one knows who the real Jinyoung Park except you, or at least who he is in your bedroom.

It was no secret that you two are very open about your sexual needs to each other, and it may come to the surprise to anyone to know that a man like Jinyoung is more submissive than anyone would think. But you however didn’t think so.

Prior to meeting him, you may follow what everyone says about Jinyoung, but five months into your relationship with your boyfriend, you were shocked, yet pleased, to see him one day in adorning nothing but a skirt, a butt plug, and a leash, innocently yet seductively telling you to touch him. And ever since then, you’ve been the one Jinyoung looked up to and waiting for to ruin him.

Every sexual encounter with him were exciting and fun, but there was one incident that took the title of the most amazing sexual roleplay you both have took in and neither of you had any sense of regret. Even if you guys would have broken up—knocking on wood—, it’ll probably not top anything but that moment.

”(y/n!)” Jinyoung exclaimed in a sing song-y way as he walked into the apartment door with something hidden behind his back. He spotted you laying onto the couch, legs lazily splayed open as you looked up to the ceiling with half eyes open. It was clear that you were tired and wanted to rest, but Jinyoung didn’t care, “I’ve got something to show you..”

You looked up at him with a furrowed eyebrows, “what is it Jiny—ah!”

You felt wide awake when you saw Jinyoung unexpectedly pulled a gun straight into your face and pretended to shoot by making certain movements and sounds.

“Jinyoung, what the fuck?!” You exclaimed with your eyes popping out your socket with fear, leaning far away from him, only for him to get closer to you. Jinyoung saw the fear in your eyes, which made him laugh at my state. “I’m being for real, put the gun down!” Your heart was rightfully pounding, fearing not only for your life but at Jinyoung’s sickening laugh.

”Oh, relax, big baby, its a fake gun,” Jinyoung said with an eye roll.

You looked at the man on top of you with a baffled expression, he flipped the gun around and shoved it to you, “see, carry it.”

You looked at the gun, then at the man, then back at the silver object with a gulp. You took the gun out of his hand, and to your relief it was indeed fake, with it being very lightweight and looking at it up close. Props to whoever made this gun look really realistic, at least at a distance.

Jinyoung laughed at your relieved expression, “did you really think I’d bring an actual gun?”

You shrugged at him, “I wouldn’t be surprised to be honest,” you jokingly replied to which Jinyoung opens his mouth agape. Now it was your turn to laugh, “I’m joking, baby,” you patted his cheeks and he pouted in response, “you’re fucked up, (y/n).” He says that as he laid on top of you.

There was a moment of silence until you began questioning why he had the toy gun. Jinyoung fidgeted with his fingers, sort of hesitating with the words he wants to say. “Baby?” Your calling for him sounded more dragging rather than a questioning call, as your hold on him got tighter. “I kinda wanted you to use it on me,” He blurted, not baring to look at you, while you looked at him with a confused expression.

He didn’t see you but he can sense your confusion, “I want you to use it on your dumb whore..” and thats where your eyes widened. You knew exactly what he wanted.

You would lie if you said you didn’t have the thought of the idea, but that does not mean that you’re feeling one hundred percent sure about all of this. You both are experimental people, and enjoy trying new things at least one, and pain on both ends goes right up your and Jinyoung’s alley. But you wouldn’t go as far as bringing weapon into this, albeit fake, but still.

You thought of how weak he would look over you though, how he tries so hard to fight back but it fails miserably and pathetically. You easily find yourself slowly warming up but then caught yourself as you uncertainty was still in habiting your consciousness.

Your ears met with his gentle voice with him saying, “baby, if you don’t want to do this, I understand,“ Jinyoung held onto your arm in comfort.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just what if I’m gonna hurt you with the gun?” You held Jinyoung, which endearingly smiled at you. He admires how no matter how hard you go on him, he still can see how you’re very loving and caring towards him. The last thing you wanted to do is to harm your baby Jinyoung.

”baby, you won’t hurt me, you’ve held the gun. It’s fake and it won’t do anything,” Jinyoung rubbed your arms, reassuringly, “besides, we have a safe word, and if you did anything uncomfortable, I’ll just say the word.” You looked back at his eyes. His eyes were entrancing to you, its a contrasting blend of assertiveness, plead and child-like. You have no idea how can one have the capability to withhold such power like this, but knowing Jinyoung, you can see how it works.

You smiled back at him with a gentle caress in the cheek, “I’ll think about it.”

You’ve given yourself sometime to think about it. Jinyoung made it absolutely clear that he won’t do anything that would make you uncomfortable. For a typical submissive person, he still values your comfort, but that is regardless whether he is submissive or dominant, verbal and emotional consent holds a great value in your relationship.

You’ve scrolled through the internet and went on certain adult website to see what got Jinyoung that excited about all this. You did see the hype, but you were still unsure about it, so you just wanted to give sometime where the ice of uncertainty is melted.

While browsing, you saw a distinctive video. The thumbnail caught your eye, as it had a pretty boy in a pink skirt laid on the bed with his leg spread and what looks to be someone pegging him. The video was of the type you’ve looked it up but it was different because it seems to be more of a point of view type of video.

Your mouse hovered over the thumbnail, almost clicking it. You turned to check if Jinyoung was still in the house. It’s not that he cared about you watching porn, he knows that no amount of videos will match up with you taking him on the spot. But you didn’t want him to see you researching, as you wanted to surprise him in case you enjoyed it.

You’ve not seen his presence and you decided to text him, to make sure if everything’s clear and that he’s not close to your proximity whatsoever.

(y/n): hey babe !!

(y/n): where are you ??

Jinyoung immediately saw your message. The bubble and dots of his began showing up until his message was sent.

Baby boy <3: heyy !!

Baby boy <3: oh i’m hanging out with Jaebeom rn i’m also gonna spend the night at his place if thats not a problem with you :)

Baby boy <3: y ??? u need anything ??

you sighed with relief to not only see him respond back, but also that he won’t come back later. Never would you have thought to say this, considering that you’re overtly obsessed with the man.

(y/n): no !! i was just checking up on u !!

(y/n): its fine by me :)) have fun and tell jaebeom i said hi

Baby boy <3: will do ^_^ see you tomorrow baby

Baby boy <3: i’ll miss you <3333

(y/n): i miss you too darling xx

Once the coast was clear, you’ve turned off your phone, turned back to your computer screen and turned on the video.

The video startes off with the boy, who eerily reminded you so much of your boyfriend with his mannerisms and body type, calling out to the presumed viewer. He only wore a skirt, a choker, and what looks to be a jeweled butt plug. To say that the scenery wasn’t a turn on would an absolute lie. You almost moaned at the scenery as you‘ve suddenly started to see, instead of the actor‘s face, Jinyoung.

His pleading eyes were captivating you as you felt yourself getting wet at the way the man is looking at you. Suddenly a pink gun was put into the face of the boy and hearing him yelp in fear did something to you. You felt your organ began twitching at the way the boy looked up to the gun. Seeing how the gun was shoved into his mouth as he began making lewd movements and noises while getting his pretty dick stroked, it did all wonders for you.

You felt your hands going down your pants as you carried on watching the video. This may have awakened something in you, and you can’t wait to showcase to Jinyoung when he gets back.

You sat back in your couch waiting for Jinyoung. It was the next day, and you didn't have much to plan, but you decided to keep the fake gun near you for the sake of your role. It was almost nighttime and the clock kept ticking as you anticpated your boyfriend's arrival.

Jinyoung didn't know about the whole ordeal, he probably thought that you were gonna be out running errands, hanging out with your friends, or even just sleep. But what he won't expect is you sitting on the couch, lust blown in your whole system and hiding the gun he brought in. He never would have thought to see you with it, up until this moment.

While you wait for him to show up, you scrolled through your phone, mindlessly liking any posts that comes in your way. You didn't care on whatever is on your screen, all you wanted was Jinyoung bending over, ready for you. You smirked at the dirty thought, until you heard keys clashing against each other then one inserted into the locked door. In comes the prettiest boy you have ever laid your eyes on, he came in with a bag in his shoulder and adorned a baggy pink sweatshirt and skinny jeans. He smiled when he saw you on the couch, waiting for him.

Normally you would feel soft and warm over his appearance, however the sinister thoughts inhabiting you was clouding every other thought. Jinyoung extended his arm up to stretch after putting down his bag, as he came in and sat down next to you, eventually attacking with kisses as a greeting. Typically, you would laugh at his typically private yet adorable affections, but you could only look at him with semi blank stare.

He noticed the stare in your face, his face shifted into a worried frown, “whats wrong? you’ve been acting weird since yesterday.” You looked at Jinyoung with your hands in his face. You couldn’t help but smile at the clueless boy in front of you, “Jinyoung, have I ever mentioned you’re gorgeous?”

Jinyoung’s confusion starts to get even bigger as his eyebrows furrowed. Not knowing what to say, he just went along with, “yeah?” It was clear evident confusion and you weren’t dumb. You knew he‘d be confused, thats the point, you want him to be clueless and confused about the whole ordeal.

“What if I told you that you’re all I think about?” You whispered, as you began caressing his face. His face was still grimacing in confusion, however he would lie if he said that the thought of you thinking about him nonstop makes him feel good and excited. “I love you so much…”

“(y/n), cut the bullshit, whats goin—” Jinyoung has had enough with your suspicious act and decided to confront you, up until he felt something on his jaw, which he ended up cutting his words with a gasp. It felt something cold against his pulse, his eyes were dragged to the source only to see something he wasn’t expected to see, yet is pleased. It was the toy gun he handed to you. His mouth was open agape, and you said, “I thought much through about it, and I decided why not,” you had a loving and evil smirk on your face, and he simply just smiled back at you, “and besides,” you leaned closer to his ear.

”The thought of you begging for mercy does things to me, you do not understand your powers you have on me, Park Jinyoung,” Jinyoung shuddered at you whispering out his full name at him. He could already feel himself getting hard at your words, and the thought of the gun digging into his skin makes the process faster. You knew that he was getting aroused without you looking down at his crouch, so you opted to use your other hand and held his member, to which he let out a closed mouth moan.

“You know what to do..” you said after pulling your face out of his ear and staring straight into his face. He looked like a puppy with his eyes innocently sparkling at you. You slapped his thigh to get up to do what he’s doing, which you took him out of his trance, nodded at you and got up.

“I’ll give you five minutes,” you said loud enough where he can still hear as he walks, more like wobbling, into your shared bedroom, while you smirked at his adorable weak state. You looked at the gun and you knew were gonna have fun with your boy toy.

~~ Five minutes have passed, and you decided to walk into the bedroom where Jinyoung is at at a painfully slow pace. You felt like a lion going after a deer, ready to devour it on the spot, with Jinyoung being the deer in this situation. You dragged the gun against the wall as you got closer to your bedroom. You can already sense Jinyoung getting weaker and weaker without even looking at him. You hear heavy breathing coming from out of your bedroom, and you felt your lust is started to mix fury with it as you knew exactly what he was doing.

However you kept your composure and still have the smirk drawn into your face. You reached the door, and you opened the door to see a sight that both angered and aroused you. Jinyoung was dressed in a pink short skirt and a crop top along side with thigh highs, his whole cock was out as he was stroking himself as he was looking at himself in the mirror. Still in his lust world, he didn’t notice your presence up until you spoke.

“Who told you you can touch yourself?” You questioned with a crossed arm and a lean into the door sill. Jinyoung gasped his eyes wide open, his hand stopped stroking as he was looking at you with pleading eyes, “I-I’m sorry,” he gulped as you got closer to him, looking at him with a scowl. Despite him being slightly taller by a few centimeters, he still looks and feels smaller than you, especially at this moment.

“I couldn’t help it, I j-j—“ You cut his pathetic talk by putting the gun into his cheek. His mouth was wide shut as he fearfully looked at the gun then back at you. You glided the gun across the face as his breath hitches, you stopped the gun at his mouth. “Open your mouth,” you growled at him, which he didn’t respond at first as he was too aroused to function. You shoved the weapon not too harsh that it could hurt him, but not too light, to wake him up to, which he just moaned.

”I didn’t even touch you, and yet you’re already fucked up,” you commented as you tugged his bottom lip with the gun making him whimper. You tapped his face and commanded again, “open.”

This time he complied and he stuck his tongue out, you lightly inserted the weapon into his mouth as he wrapped his mouth around it.

To say that the scenery was pornographic was an understatement. A man in his short skirt down on his knees sucking on a weapon as his superior is tugging on his hair, it was hot to look at, you and Jinyoung would agree. It was typical that Jinyoung is going dumb just for you, he’s willing to drop everything just to satisfy your needs. He loves you too much. And to see you enjoying his idea makes him feel really good.

~~~ ”Thats what you fucking get for being a dumb slut,” You thrusted your strap on onto your pretty boy’s hole as he grips into the sheets underneath him. His legs placed on your shoulder while your hips were moving in and out of him.

“I-I-I’m s-sorry! I’m not gonna do it again!” Jinyoung was a mess under you, he’s practically crying as he feels his hole getting stretched with pleasure. Tears rolling down his face as he feels his orgasm get closer. You can see that based on his face twist that he was getting closer so you stopped thrusting for the nth time, which caused him to whine and sob louder.

“Bad sluts like you don’t deserve to cum,” You leaned over, his leg still on your shoulder and squished his cheeks. His nose was tinted pink due to blissed out cry and the amount of times you’d edge him, and the fact you still resisted giving him what he want made him blush even more. You both love it, especially Jinyoung, who may love this more than you do. He loves getting edged and getting all this punishment. He was a walking masochist, and because he is what he is, you ended up loving it and use it for your advantage.

Despite his “apologies,” he always misbehaves just so he can get punished by his superior. He is a brat in disguise, and you love it. You love giving him the punishment that he ever so deserves, as much as you love degrading him and you absolutely love seeing him being at your mercy.

He simply looked up at you with teary eyes and says softly, “I’m a bad slut, but I’m your bad slut,” to which you smirked back at his claim.

Your Bad Slut. That’s exactly what he is.

#got7 fanfic #got7 scenarios #got7 imagines #got7 smut #got7 dark hours #got7 hard hours #jinyoung fanfic #jinyoung imagine #jinyoung scenarios #jinyoung smut #jinyoung drabble #jinyoung hard hours #got7 drabble #got7 fic #jinyoung fic

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sergeantsporks · 3 years

Text

Whatever it Takes

Rating: Teen and Up, Gen

TW: Self-harm, attempted suicide, emotional manipulation

“While I’ve got you here, want to hear the complete history of wild magic? I’m sure you’ll find it very interesting, considering that you’re old enough to have lived through it.”

“I am not, you little brat. Shut your mouth, I don’t want to listen to your voice.” “Yeah? What if I don’t want to shut up? What if I feel like singing?"

Hunter is a difficult prisoner to keep, and Lilith and Eda are about to find that out the hard way.

Ao3

Ch 3/4: I’ll Escape (one way or another)

Ch 1, Ch 2

Hunter rocked back and forth in the chair he was tied to, wincing as the movement made the ropes tied around his chest put pressure on his aching ribs. Right. Messing with Lilith had been all very well and fun, but it was time he got out of here. If he got out now, he could always claim that he’d been attempting to track the assassins down. Much longer, and… well, it wouldn’t be a very believable lie. Lilith’s taunts echoed in his head. He needed to get out of here before anyone at the coven realized what had happened to him.

He managed to rock hard enough to bend over so that his feet were on the ground, but the legs of the chair were up in the air. Then he ran backwards, full tilt, at the wall, slamming into it with a jarring crunch that rattled his teeth. He shook himself, crouch-walked forward, and did it again. The chair legs and seat splintered and broke, letting him stand up straight. He used the wall to slide the chair back out of the rope, and wiggled free, rubbing feeling back into his arms and picking a splinter out of his back with a wince.

Hunter sat down on the basement stairs. Ow. He still had a pounding headache from when Lilith had hit him with her staff, and ramming into that wall hadn’t helped. Still, he pulled himself back up to his feet and crept up the stairs, opening the door quietly. Wasn’t even locked. Lilith really had gotten soft, hadn’t she?

Hunter padded down the hallway, until a loud snore stopped him in his tracks. He froze, holding his breath, until another snore sounded, and he took a few more steps forward.

Lilith was snoozing on the couch, her staff leaning against the back of it.

Hunter’s brain started to click quietly.

Wait. Yes. Steal the staff. Kill Lilith while she was sleeping. Bring staff and Lilith’s corpse to Emperor Belos. Dead assassin=complete mission. Palisman=extra good, made up for falling out of contact for a day. No one needed to know he’d been captured, and if they DID find out, he could always claim it was part of his plan to get Lilith to let her guard down.

Yes. This would work. Lilith was wrong—he could go back to the coven, and this was how.

Hunter reached oh-so-slowly and carefully for Lilith’s staff, hardly daring to breathe.

The raven at the top’s eyes flashed as he grabbed hold of it, and the bird disconnected, cawing loudly and dive-bombing him. Hunter swung the staff at it with a yelp, and Lilith snapped awake, launching herself over the back of the couch and sweeping his legs out from underneath him. Hunter rolled backwards, swinging the empty shaft of her staff at her. She caught it and yanked, pulling him forward.

Hunter let go of the stick, skipping backwards as she tried to kick him again. He ducked back into another room—a kitchen! He snatched up knives from their block, throwing a few of them at Lilith as she chased after him. She ducked and weaved to the side, swinging her staff towards him with a yell.

Hunter ducked, and lunged forward with the last knife.

And then Lilith disappeared, zipping behind him and smacking him in the back with her staff. Hunter was thrown forward and landed on his hands and knees, barely avoiding cracking his head on the kitchen counter.

Lilith’s staff pressed to the back of his head as he wheezed for breath. “Stay down,” she ordered.

Hunter growled softly. He should have just escaped while he had the chance.

Lilith carefully drew a set of glyphs while still keeping her staff aimed at his head. Ice crept up out of the ground, freezing him in a solid block, only his head remaining sticking out. Lilith pushed the block, and it slid easily across the floor, bumping down the basement stairs. Hunter strained against his new prison with no results.

“I am getting out of here, and I am going to take you down!” he yelled as Lilith climbed the stairs.

Lilith yawned, shutting the door. “Goodnight, Hunter.”

Almost the moment the door was shut, Hunter heard a low chirp. His palisman fluttered through a tiny window. Hunter had to squash a big, goofy grin, switching for a stern look instead.

“Hey! I told you to stay at the keep!”

Another chirp.

“Yes. Okay. Fine. I guess I’m glad you didn’t. I am very, very glad that you followed me, and I will consider taking you along on more missions. Happy?”

The cardinal fluttered down, pecking at the ice surrounding his hand. It was slow going, but the instant Hunter could wiggle his fingers, his palisman shifted into a staff, landing in his open palm. Hunter blasted the ice holding him, then froze, listening for any sounds from upstairs. Once again, the only sound was Lilith snoring, so Hunter crept towards the stairs. No nonsense this time—he had his palisman, he was going to finish the job.

When he opened the door and took a step out into the living room, however, his foot landed on something small and papery.

Another ice wall rose up, this time freezing his palisman along with him.

Lilith yawned, getting up. “You don’t know when to quit, do you?” She held out a fire glyph, unfreezing Hunter’s palisman. The cardinal hopped off of the staff, shivering. Lilith gently caught it between her hands, and at a whistle, her own raven hopped off, tucking Hunter’s palisman under its wing. The cardinal tweeted frantically, twisting around trying to get free.

Hunter struggled once again against the unyielding ice. “Give it back! Let it go!”

“Don’t worry about your palisman, it’ll be fine. My raven won’t hurt it. But I’m not going to hand you a weapon.” Lilith pushed the ice block down the stairs again. “Good luck getting out of there without your staff.”

“This ice has to melt eventually!” he yelled as he thudded back down to the basement floor.

She waved a hand at him, yawning. “Yes, but by the time it does, you’ll be too cold to move. Hopefully that will let me get some sleep.”

Xxx

Lilith was right. By the time the ice was a soaking, uncomfortable puddle, Hunter’s teeth were chattering so hard he thought he might wear them down, and his limbs were heavy and cold. He couldn’t move even if he wanted to.

I am going to kill her. I really am. And I won’t regret it even a little bit.

Why did they even want him here?

The owl lady clomped down the basement stairs. “Rough night?” she asked with a grin.

“Y-y-you ar-are going t-t-to p-pay for this,” he chattered, glaring at her.

She shrugged, finding a new chair and sitting him in it, tying him back up. “I doubt it. You’re running a two-for-two ratio on failing to escape.”

“I’m—I’m not g-going t-to t-tell you any-anything.”

“Yeah, I figured. But it’s not just about information—we’re done with interrogations. Belos needs you for something, so we’re going to keep you nice and snug here.”

“Why don’t you just kill me then?”

“First of all, that would be murder, second of all, I did give it my best shot, and third of all, I’m not entirely sure that killing you would solve the problem—as long as you’re alive and away, Belos can’t replace you, we’re pretty sure of that much. So again, you’re not going anywhere until the day of unity is over.”

“Where’s my palisman?!”

“Safe. No, you cannot have it back, because we’re currently having trouble explaining to it that it should NOT help you break out of here and kill us all.” Eda patted his head and disappeared back up the stairs. “Have fun contemplating all of your horrible actions down here!”

Hunter watched her disappear up the stairs.

It would be a hassle to find a replacement.

A hassle. Not impossible. But if he stayed here, according to Eda, there was no possibility of Uncle Belos completing his plan.

Hunter glanced back up the stairs. One last way to be useful. One last thing I can do for him.

Xxx

Eda shouldered the basement door open. “Hope you like omelets, kid, because I had some eggs I needed to use up before they…” Hunter was limp in the chair, and she rolled her eyes. “I know you’re awake, you little brat.” She strode down the stairs, flipping the lights on. The plate in her hands dropped to the floor, shattering.

“LILITH!” she yelled, “GET DOWN HERE AND BRING YOUR ICE GLYPHS!”

Blood dripped from Hunter’s mouth, and his head sagged forward, his breathing ragged and gurgling, like he was drowning. Eda lifted his face. “Hunter? Hey, talk to me, kid, come on!” She held the cloth napkin she’d brought down with her to his mouth, red blossoming across the fabric. “Stick with me here!”

He coughed, spitting up more blood. His eyes opened just a crack, and he wrenched his face away from her. “Jussssst lemme die…” he slurred, his lips stained red.

Horror swept over Eda, nausea rising up in her stomach. “Did you bite your tongue?!” she yelled, “Titan, Hunter! LILITH!”

Lilith pounded down the stairs, holding her ice glyphs. She took one look at the situation and added another glyph to her combo, tapping it gently. A glowing ball floated above her hand, and she brought it slowly over, wafting it into Hunter’s face. Ice solidified over his injured tongue, slowing the bleeding and preventing him from being able to bite it again.

Tears rolled down his face, and he let out a wild, animal cry of despair, slumping forward.

Eda pointed. “This is what you did with all of your talking about how he failed, Lilith! Is this what you wanted? Titan’s sake, he just tried to kill himself rather than go back a failure!”

Lilith looked down to the side. “No,” she muttered, “I didn’t want this.”

Eda crouched down to Hunter’s level. “Hey. Hey, look at me, kid. Look at me. Belos isn’t worth taking your life, okay?”

Tears were still rolling down his face, and he shook his head.

Lilith knelt down next to Eda. “Hunter. I know I said you failed. I know I said that you couldn’t ever go back to the coven. But trust me, you can find things to live for other than the coven. Other than Belos. One failure does not mean the end.”

He closed his eyes, and Eda nudged her sister gently. “Go get that knockout potion,” she murmured, “I think he needs it.”

Her sister disappeared up the stairs, and Eda sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You’re a real hotbed of issues, you know that? Here’s a word of advice; if someone makes you feel like you should kill yourself instead of disappointing them, then you should NOT hang around that person.” She snorted. “I have half a mind to keep you until you figure out that Belos is bad for you.”

He coughed up more blood, and slumped forward with a groan.

Eda shook her head. “Titan, kid. What have the two of us gotten ourselves into, huh?”

Lilith brought down the knockout potion, and Hunter was so out of it that he drank it without question, passing out almost instantly. Her sister froze his tongue again, untying him and hefting him in her arms. “Keeping him prisoner as easy as you thought it would be, Edalyn?”

Eda sighed again, getting up. “Guess not. Where are you going with him?”

“Upstairs. I’m going to be keeping him where I can watch him.”

“What if Luz comes home today?”

“Then you can explain to her why the Golden Guard is passed out on the couch. I am not going to risk another escape or suicide attempt.”

Eda followed her up the stairs. “I just—I don’t get it, Lili! Belos is the worst, what do people see in him?”

Lilith set Hunter down on the couch, sitting next to him and picking up her book. She clicked her fingers, and her raven released the cardinal that was struggling against it, shrieking shrilly. Hunter’s little palisman chirruped and warbled worriedly, fluttering around his face, before finally settling down in his hair, glaring at Lilith and Eda.

Lilith flipped pages of her book back and forth, but Eda knew she wasn’t reading them. “Belos… can be persuasive. He can give you the things you’ve always craved—validation, kindness, respect. And then? When he takes that away? You feel like it’s your fault. Because someone like him, someone who treated you kindly, would surely only take away that kindness if you’d done something awful, right? He thinks you’re special. Until you prove him otherwise. And no matter what, you cannot prove him otherwise. Because if you’re not special, if someone as giving as him doesn’t think you’re special? You must be the most depraved creature in the world, and you deserve any punishment that comes your way.”

Eda shuddered. “Again. Horrible, horrible man.” Hunter’s palisman chirped in agreement.

Lilith twisted her hands, glancing down at Hunter. “But it never feels that way when you’re with him. That’s the problem. That’s how he creates soldiers that would rather die than disappoint him. You’re miserable, but you never realize that you are, and besides, even if you did leave, where would you go? I was lucky. I had you.”

“Eugh. Can’t believe I ever wanted to join that coven.”

“It’s… an efficient system. One I am quite glad I got out of.”

Eda nodded to the unconscious teenager on her couch. “Yeah? And who’s going to get him out of it? Titan knows he’s miserable, he might even realize that.”

Lilith shrugged. “Likely nobody. Except perhaps this little fellow.” She held out a hand for Hunter’s palisman, drawing back when the bird pecked her fingers. “Ow! Ugh—don’t know what else I expected from Hunter’s palisman. Belos is all Hunter’s ever known—I doubt he even knows what a regular life should look like. He’ll probably keep slaving away for his emperor, no matter what you or I try to say to him, and one day, it’ll get him killed. Whether at an enemy’s hand, Belos’, or his own, that’s the question.”

That bothered Eda more than she liked to admit, even to herself. “Well, thanks, Miss Depressing.” Hunter’s cardinal chirped and warbled disapprovingly at Lilith, as if to say not if I have anything to do with it.

Lilith shrugged again. “That’s his reality. I won’t sugarcoat it.”

“Well, it shouldn’t be.”

“Edalyn, he tried to kill me this morning. He could have escaped, but he’d rather risk getting captured again than return to the coven empty-handed. Belos’ influence runs deep. I know it’s hard to accept, but… at this point, I don’t think there’s anything you or I could do that will save him from himself.”

Xxx

Darius kept up a friendly, composed appearance until he got far enough away from the Clawthorne house that Gwendolyn couldn’t see him, at which point he snarled, punching a tree. He knew he’d heard Lilith’s voice, taunting him. But her insipid mother was being absolutely no help in trying to find her, and he was relatively certain that she was doing it on purpose.

Last he’d checked in with the coven spies, Lilith had been living with her mother. He didn’t know what had changed, but he could piece this together.

After all, Lilith hadn’t been alone. She’d brought along some kind of demon monster that had attacked him from the air.

And he was relatively certain that he knew exactly which demon monster she was in cahoots with.

Ch 4

#toh #tw: self harm #tw: attempted suicide #the owl house #toh hunter #edalyn clawthorn #lilith clawthorne #lil rascal #my writing #toh fanfiction

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whimstories · 3 years

Text

Summary: Vague Isekai concept. Marinette is transported into a world she read in a book and comes to fall for the female lead who was drastically misrepresented in the novel.

A/N: I didn’t expect to write some random scenes today. This isn’t a full story, sadly. I just wanted to post some things I wrote because Marigami needs more content, and this pairing is vastly not given the attention and respect it deserves.

Enjoy ~ ✨

//////////////////

“But I don’t wish to be just a man’s wife, I want…I wish to be…”

“But you are!” Marinette exclaimed.

Kagami’s eyes widened in surprise.

“You don’t need permission or approval, you’re already a politician. A scholar. A warrior. Your sword is more beautiful than anyone I’ve seen. You don’t need to waste your breath wishing.”

“You say that but—“

“Please don’t contradict me. It hurts me to see you doubting yourself so much when you’re already beyond extraordinary.”

Kagami’s cheeks flushed a rosy color and she looked shyly at the ground. “You’re full of praises today.”

“Make it more difficult to find praise then,” Marinette grinned. “I wish I had half your virtues.”

“You’re much more virtuous,” Kagami whispered, sounding almost too sincere. For a moment Marinette’s heart stopped, fluttering with warmth and searing pride. But she covered it with a sip of her tea, knowing better.

Marinette smiled kindly. “So when are we going to interrupt the men’s meeting on that dreadful land acquisition?”

“We shouldn’t.” Kagami sighed.

“All the more reason.”

“Adrien would be embarrassed and mother would be furious. I couldn’t possibly.”

“Adrien is a bit…slow at times. I think he’d be elated to see his wonderful fiancée standing for what she believes in. He’s that much of a good man, at least.”

“Yes…he is good,” Kagami glanced at Marinette as if to add something but looked away again in thought. “But mother will hear of it. There’s no returning from disappointing her.”

Marinette hesitated, knowing the fear of failing one’s family. “Your mother is as accomplished as you are, yet I find it odd she doesn’t support your dreams.”

“My mother is a traditionalist. She accomplished much, but she’s calculated and conservative. She’s never acted outside the bounds of societal law. She expects the same of me.”

“You make her sound villainous.”

“Another conservative term for her.”

Marinette bristled in her seat and when Kagami looked at her she lifted a napkin to her mouth where a small amused noise burst from her lips. “She’s not so horrible. I admire my mother in many ways.”

Marinette wished she’d move the napkin so she could view the rare sight of Kagami’s smiles but her eyes also burst with a fondness that was equally as lovely. “But you believe your situation will grow worse if you disobey her.”

“No...I—“ Kagami sat in silence for a while, then her brows furrowed. “I’ve never disobeyed before,” she finished.

Marinette looked at her sadly but righted herself with a cross of her arms and feigned a huff. “Kagami, fold your napkin.”

Kagami snapped her head upwards, alert. She slowly did as instructed. “Yes? Why, what’s the matter?”

“Stand.”

Still confused, she stood with the good graces bestowed on her education.

“Walk towards me please and grab my hand.”

Kagami walked a step before hesitating. Her face seemed to freeze in a panic. “Won’t you tell me why?”

“Can you not do it?” Marinette parried.

Kagami blinked back, clearly challenged but slowly took Marinette’s hands in a gentle hold. They were soft and warm, yet strong and worn from training. Marinette had to ignore her thrill. “Now, look me straight in the eyes and tell me,” she paused dramatically, “you do not regret eating my pastries.”

Kagami looked surprised. “They were amazing, I’ll cherish them the rest of my days. Of course, I’d never regret it.”

Oh. Marinette was teasing but the sincerity suddenly made her hands feel very warm. Marinette blinked violently to play off the warmth of her face. “A-and that you do not regret wearing that Louis Forton gown to the last gala.”

Kagami sighed and her lips fought from curling. The dress was truly a complicated monstrosity that even amnesia couldn’t sear from the mind. “That was unavoidable. I can forgive that much.”

“And that you won’t regret your arranged engagement.”

Her hands flinched in Marinette’s. “I—of course, I—never would,” she said, stilted, and blatantly looked away from Marinette’s gaze that Marinette was surprised.

She continued, “And that the feeling of satisfying your mother is more precious than the feeling of picking up a sword.”

Kagami’s face stilled. Her hands clenched Marinette tightly, but she stared forward in a new sense of wonder. A sense of clarity. Her eyes shone with a wet sheen, like a diamond forming dewdrops.

She stood a long while, opening and closing her mouth. “Am I allowed such a thing? To not say it?”

“It would not make you less of a wonderful daughter.”

“But it would make me a selfish one.”

“For a parent, a child could never be selfish. You’ve never been disobedient, so how can you know how she would react?” Marinette said. “And even so, even if she reacted poorly, she is not the one who has to live your life. Endure the choices. It is not your fault you were born a duchess’s daughter, but it is your responsibility to shape what this life has presented you. And so far you have disregarded that responsibility.”

“Then what should I do?” She asked slowly, as if sure no one could have an answer.

“What you want,” Marinette said simply with a shrug and a smile.

Kagami hummed, staring at Marinette. Marinette could imagine she perhaps admired Marinette’s nativity, and that Marinette’s words meant nothing at all. But it hurt her to see such a wonderful person, a wonderful spirit like Kagami feeling trapped when she had such potential.

Then Kagami’s face lifted miraculously into a soft smile. A rare and blossoming sight that shone like colors bouncing from her chest. Kagami grasped and lifted Marinette’s hands to her mouth, placing a brief kiss on the tips. Marinette’s face inflamed.

“Thank you,” Kagami whispered.

“W-what for?” Marinette laughed nervously, not sure what else to do. “I just told the truth. I hope I wasn’t acting too ridiculous.”

“You’re never ridiculous. I always enjoy being with you. I’m very glad we’ve met, Marinette.”

God, this woman is a weapon. I don’t think I can stand. Marinette finally pulled her hands away and contradicted herself by standing with enormous force.

“Yes, I always enjoy your company too. Gosh, it’s warm. I should go for a walk. Not you though, you should finish your tea. Not that I don’t think you’ll keep up or incapable just—I’ll return, okay?”

——-------------

“Marinette? Are you there?”

“Marinette sat upright and stared disbelieving at her door. “Kagami?” she whispered and ushered to open the door. Kagami stood, swaying slightly at the entrance.

“Marinette,” she said the name so simply and with sweetness Marinette knew she was not of the right mind.

“Come inside quickly.” They walked to Marinette’s bed and sat. “Did you drink?”

“The men wanted to have talks in the parlour. I didn’t back down and joined them.”

Marinette became alarmed. “They didn’t harm you or—?”

Kagami shook her head a little dramatically. “Many of them collapsed after I challenged them to some games. I ordered some maids to escort them then…well, I walked here.”

“Oh,” Marinette snickered. “I wasn’t aware you were an expert at drinking games.”

“Neither was I.”

Marinette shook her head. Of course, Kagami would be stupendous at something she never tried before. “Well, drunk or not I’m always happy to keep you company.”

Kagami smiled sweetly again. “I could not think of better company no matter the situation.”

Marinette’s heart squeezed. Two wondrous smiles in one night, Marinette might faint from sight. “You mustn’t say that when Adrien is around,” she joked.

“But I’m sure Adrien knows it as well. I can hardly bear to leave you for a moment.”

“What about sword training? I bet you couldn’t tell me I’m better company than your most treasured activity?”

“Even that…perhaps.”

Marinette's heart thundered against her chest. The room stilled and she felt she must have heard wrong. Nothing could matter more to Kagami, it was in the book. Kagami’s independence was a relationship of love itself, no matter how glorious she was, no one was enough. Yet…perhaps…

“May I…have your hand?” Kagami asked, staring intently at Marinette’s hand against the sheets. Marinette was busy stopping her heart from stuttering out of her chest and now Kagami said something so ridiculously ambiguous and wanted to touch her—Marinette didn’t think she would survive the night let alone the next few minutes.

“Can I not?” Kagami asked when Marinette took too long.

Startled, Marinette exclaimed, “Yes! Of course!” louder than proper and presented her hand upwards as if waiting for a palm reader’s forbidding prediction. She hoped it wasn’t obvious how her handle trembled.

Kagami took her hand gently, the tips of her fingers tickling the back. Their hands slid over one another at various angles: a hook of thumbs, that courteous raise of the fingers, an intertwining of fingers. Marinette’s nerves made the atmosphere feel heavy and electric. Was this not intimate by all standards? Or was she overthinking? Her heart raced and Kagami seemed to languidly test all the ways their hands would fit as if it was custom.

Marinette could not suppress her nervousness and leaned forward with a laugh. “Are you looking for something?”

Kagami’s lids were drooping and heavy, yet her gaze was fiercely focused on her ministrations. She hummed and pulled Marinette’s palm upwards. Her lips pressed firmly, right to the center of Marinette’s palm. She moved the hand towards her cheek with a content sigh and a sleepy smile.

“Yes, this is what I wanted.”

Marinette’s body screamed. She’s sure her heart stopped, how could she dare to hope to win against such a daring attack? Was Kagami a cozy drunk? It’s good she left those men behind, she would have hated showing herself like this. But to act so intimately—Marinette’s body was on fire.

After a few breaths and realizing Kagami had a firm grip on Marinette’s arm and looked much too content to be moved, Marinette took a moment to appreciate—at least a little—her position.

Kagami’s cheek was soft and smooth. It fit perfectly in her hand. Her cheek was a little warm, probably from the alcohol, but it was enticingly inviting. Marinette shifted forward, heat building between them, to get her arm more comfortable.

“Are you awake?” Marinette whispered.

Kagami blinked lazily into a droopy stare. Something told Marinette that Kagami might not remember this tomorrow.

“I’m going to lay you down to sleep.” She looked Kagami up and down. “We should probably get you a little comfortable too.”

Her grip squeezed Marinette’s wrist in emphasis. “I’m perfectly comfortable.”

Marinette laughed nervously. A clingy drunk, indeed. “I won’t leave you. W-we’ll…if you like, we can sleep together.”

Kagami nodded as if it was the most natural conclusion. “Yes.”

“Ri-right.”

Marinette edged Kagami gently to remove her outer garments. At times Kagami would catch her hand for another touch of her lips; Marinette applauded her ability to remain standing. Marinette dimmed the lights before carefully edging her way to one side of the bed. Kagami’s eyes never left her and tugged Marinette immediately down to the sheets.

“Ah, Kagami!” Marinette exclaimed, happy the dim lights could hide her warm face.

Marinette’s hand cradled Kagami’s cheeks once more, held close like some precious stuffed toy. “Let us sleep,” Kagami asserted.

How can you act so bossy when I’m the one taking care of you? Marinette’s mind grumbled.

“I hope you remember this tomorrow,” Marinette mumbled.

“I will,” Kagami sighed, close to sleep.

“If you do, you should reward me for taking care of you.”

“Anything you want.”

Marinette grinned, sly. “Don’t forget. I really suffered. Honestly.”

Kagami hummed, clearly sleeping a moment later. Her breath tickled Marinette’s wrist and her hair grazed softer than the silk pillows. Marinette’s mouth parted, staring at the soft light in the room illuminating her slightly red cheeks.

Her chest could not unravel and her gaze could not stray. Her stomach tightened and pooled with heat many times as she laid there.

Before she could fall asleep, she moved her thumb a few times against that pristine cheek. Kagami breathed deep once and sighed happily. Her lips, softer than a rose, lifted slightly. Marinette grumbled once more, “Suffering is putting it very lightly.”

——---------

Marinette woke up groggy and alone in the morning.

She stretched high to the canopy and wondered why her chest ached. The maid came in a moment later and said, “Kagami is waiting for you in the greenhouse.”

Oh. Her stomach flipped. “Was Kagami awake early this morning?”

“As usual. Not even silly wasted old men can unsettle our lady.”

Marinette hummed. Kagami probably didn’t want to disturb her. Judging from the time of day, Marinette slept later than usual. “Ah, right. I heard she drank them under the table.”

“It was a true sight!” The maid gushed. “Our lady wanted to speak about business ventures in the northern lands but they only agreed if she won a round of cards. They played various games in which the loser would drink a large cup of sake. It was a dirty rule. But she rarely lost, and never slurred or stumbled when she did. Even this morning they were grumbling over headaches and she didn’t seem phased at all.”

So she didn’t drink much last night. Is she a light drunk? Marinette giggled. “Our lady is too tremendous.”

“I was appalled when Adrien didn’t watch over her, but I suppose he knew our lady better than us all.”

“Adrien wasn’t at the parlour?” Marinette asked, surprised.

The maid was tugging Marinette’s dress into place as she said, “He headed to bed early after the first round. A man leaving his fiancee unattended with a room of stuffy men—I wanted to smack his behind the ears!”

Marinette supposed Adrien would have attended Kagami to her rooms instead of letting her wander to Marinette’s. Perhaps he was finally accepting her capabilities, but something seemed wrong about leaving outright.

“How would you like your hair, my lady?”

Marinette hummed. “Just a few pins today.”

She walked to the greenhouse, the wind playing with her loose strands along the way. She took a deep breath before going past the glass doors.

Kagami was leaning back in her seat, hair half hazardously in a ponytail and garbed in her training attire. Her clothes clung perfectly, showing off her strong legs and defined waist. The light adorned her hair like turquoise stars dancing on the strands. Marinette had to clutch her chest before it leaped out.

How does this woman look more handsome than any male model on a cheesy romance cover?

Kagami caught her eyes and Marinette held her breath. Kagami put down her cup of tea and cleared her throat. Marinette walked forward and gave a small greeting. “Good morning.”

Kagami’s eyes tentatively caught hers. “Yes. Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

“It was alright.” Marinette sat and a maid poured her a cup. The color was milky and when Marinette lifted it, it was sweet. Peppermint black milk tea, her favorite. Marinette glanced upwards and fought a raised brow as she sipped. She sighed content. “You must have slept wonderfully.”

Kagami cleared her throat. Again. Marinette was fighting a smile. “When have I not?”

“Oh yes, how could I doubt you? Though, I was referring to your full day yesterday. You stuck with the men all day and left the wives and fiancees to their gossip without your input.”

“It wasn’t as scary as I thought,” Kagami said. “The men were as bad as the ladies with gossip and wholly unprepared for my education or opinions. Honestly, I feel I might have bullied them.” Her face didn’t change— as if discussing the weather— but her eyes sparkled and her tone tilted on amused.

“Is it bullying to be educated?” Marinette mused behind another sip.

“Only if you’re a woman. The element of surprise is an unfair advantage. Perhaps they’ll be more prepared next time.”

Marinette perked and grinned. “So you’re determined?”

“I feel more at ease. Perhaps I’m really not suited to being a wallflower for the rest of my days.”

“Certainly not. You should inherit and manage the Tsurugi estates and assets without the need for a partner. You’re easily capable of that much.”

Kagami’s body softened in the light. “As you’ve told me.”

“You should listen, I’m wiser than I look.”

Kagami looked down at her cup, losing herself in thought. Marinette looked around the flowers and butterflies in the afternoon. She downed another cup of tea slowly unwinding from her nervousness.

“Last night…” Kagami started slowly. Marinette hid behind her cup and raised her eyes in acknowledgment. “I acted childishly.”

“Oh? To what are you referring?”

“It’s hazy,” Kagami bit her lip and fiddled with the edge of her snack plate. “But I rudely burst into your rooms and acted unbecomingly. I want to apologize if I made you uncomfortable.”

“You were very expressive,” Marinette grinned. “It was very cute.”

Kagami huffed in her seat, fiddling with her long braid with rosy cheeks. “Please don’t say it like that.”

“What? You said it was your first time drinking. I was very honored to experience a new side to you.”

“I told you that?” Kagami grumbled lowly, head tucked. She timidly glanced upwards. “What else did I say?”

Marinette pretended to ponder, filling the space by reaching for snacks and sipping her drink. “It’s not so much what you said but what you did.”

Marinette glanced at Kagami and she stared resolutely at Marinette as if missing any micro movement would place her life in jeopardy. Marinette stuttered in her teasing. She thought Kagami would be embarrassing but was she perhaps…curious about Marinette’s reaction?

“U-um…” Marinette stuttered and stirred too much sugar into her tea. She didn’t flinch even as the overwhelming sweetness hit her lips. “You did say you enjoyed my company. Nothing else.”

“Mm, I do,” Kagami said simply. Then she sighed. “I invaded your space and acted brazenly. I suppose I’m starved of affection,” giving a self-deprecating chuckle.

It was a heartbreaking sound. “No—no! I was happy you felt close enough to come to me. In fact, I’d—well I’d…” Marinette gulped a breath, realizing she was placing a blade over her head. “I wish you’d be open with me more often. I didn’t know if you’d welcome such affection.”

“You’re alright with…? Rather you wish we were more affectionate?”

It was Marinette’s turn to clear her throat. “I’ve always held hands and hugged my close friends. I assumed Kagami only made the rare exception to humor me, so I distanced myself.”

“Well. I will admit you are my exception.”

Marinette’s face burst red. Then Kagami stood and moved her chair so it was inches from Marinette's. She looked up confused and when Kagami sat she offered her hand face-up, her expression calm.

“Is this alright?”

Marinette covered her mouth with one hand, unsure how her face betrayed her, but placed the other within Kagami’s. Kagami entwined them in a strong grip that tingled up Marinette’s arm.

Kagami’s face bloomed into a soft smile and she relaxed deep into her seat as if a weight left her shoulders. Marinette could not sip or eat the rest of the afternoon, feeling she had consumed too much sweetness for the day.

——

#marigami #ML #Kagami Tsurugi #marinette dupen chang #drabble #storytime

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fancyfade · 3 years

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I really like the way Hardware (1993) addresses the topic of superhero ethics.

Quick synopsis of the set-up: Curtis Metcalf, genius inventor, comes from a working class family and winds up from his perspective being set up to be the heir apparent to the inventor/businessman, Edwin Alva, who takes him under his wing and funds his schooling and, once he graduates, his projects. However Alva was actually just funding his schooling and appearing to encourage him in his endeavors so he could lock Curtis in a contract that gives him no rights to the royalties his inventions makes Alva (unclear if he has any like legal right as in copyright to his inventions as well I would assume not but it was not addressed yet). Curtis can’t work for a competitor either in the same field so he’s essentially stuck working for Alva if he wants to do what he’s dedicated his entire life to (inventing technology stuff).

Curtis initially tries to get some blackmail material on Alva so he can get out of his contract, but finds out Alva is involved in the criminal underworld via weapons and drugs dealing and smuggling.

also the character’s races are important to the story: i’m going to not comment a lot on this because I don’t want to be talking out my ass, so I’m going to just be like... relating things without commentary or sourcing what the original intent was from the creators: Curtis is a black man and likens what Alva did to him as slavery. Denys Cowan, one of the co-founders of Milestone comics and artist on hardware 1993 and the new series, who worked with the main author of hardware (1993) dwayne mcduffie, mentions that Hardware’s experiencse and the way he is treated (especially the glass ceiling) are part of how it felt to be a black creator in comics (link). (Back to the comic, not the interview) Curtis points out how many people perceive him as angry and bitter with a chip on his shoulder (Curtis describes himself as angry for good reasons). Alva is a white man who is too big and has his hands in too many pockets for the evidence curtis initially got on him to stick.

This is why Curtis created hardware: initially, his plan was to blackmail alva, when he finds out what Alva is up to he tries to send the evidence to the authorities because it goes beyond his personal problems with Alva. Then when that fails, he creates his armored suit (which he calls Hardware) to interfere with Alva’s operations and prevent him from doing more damage while getting revenge.

When he initially starts out as Hardware, Curtis has very little social life, he divides himself entirely between working his day job as cover for Alva, then working his night job as Hardware. he barely sleeps due to this. When he’s hardware, has a variety of lethal weaponry, the biggest of which is his omnicannon (which seems to like.. explode everything? he KOs a helicopter with it). He uses his weapons only on people working for Alva who are usually trying to kill him as far as I can tell. He’s also pretty unconcerned with killing them. He blows up a helicopter with someone still in it, shoots people, drops a guy he had pulled out from a helicopter from an unsurvivable fall, and cuts off a the arm of a construction worker who was holding a gun on him.

Curtis is more thinking on his end goal (getting revenge on Alva and stopping Alva’s criminal enterprises) than he is the means he takes to get there.

Pretty early in the run, Curtis is injured and found by his long term female friend Barraki. Since she finds him in his Hardware armor, he has no choice but to tell her what’s going on and she is disgusted. She views Curtis as extremely selfish -- she refers to it as him killing people “because his boss wouldn’t give him a raise” with no visible remorse. Curtis says he has no remorse period, not just no visible remorse. Barraki leaves and says doesn’t feel like she actually knows him.

Curtis obviously cares a lot about her opinion, because once she makes her stance on it clear he is kind of at a loss of what to do. When she asks him what he wants, he says he just wants her approval (also that she’s his only friend and he doesn’t want to lose her).

He winds up solving things as Hardware non-lethally for a while (replaces his omnicannon supershot with a neural net to paralyze people rather than blowing them up, tho he still has access to the omnicannon’s main shell for when he needs it), gives alva’s employees in the stuff he’s blowing up time to evacuate, etc

Then he has like I guess this... dream sequence? Guilt induced dream? Where he is seeing the people he harmed (the guy who’s arm he chopped off talking to him about his injury and losing his job, the dead bodies of the people he killed) and then Curtis talking to him as he is Hardware (like a his non-armored civilian version is berating his armored version for his life choices) and giving him a running commentary on his own life up to this point. People who are either personally important to him (Barraki) or socially important (a priest, Oprah) attack him for his decisions. Then when it comes to who speaks in his defense in his dream, it’s his employer, Alva, who created this situation from when Curtis was a kid to exploit him and benefit off Curtis’s talents and treats Curtis as no more than a cog in his machine (When Curtis initially approaches Alva for his profits, he does so with the assumption he’ll get them, because he had believed Alva to be like a father to him, Alva laughs at him and says he’s not respected, merely useful, and dehumanizes him by likening him to a dog).

Dream Alva’s defense of Hardware’s previous actions is that as Hardware, Curtis is doing what he was supposed to do -- treating other people as expendable resources in pursuit of his goals. So in Curtis’s guilt, he likens himself to Alva, the man who has been treating him like a tool.

I think this is kind of interesting because it’s something I’ve seen a lot in recent discussions of whether it’s okay for superheroes to kill people and one of them is that when you kill a person you’re not just killing that person. You’re killing whoever they were to the people who cared about them, if they’re looking out for anyone you’re affecting whoever they were providing for as well -- I think that’s why the initial person who appeared in Curtis’ guilt-dream was not someone he killed but the man who’s arm he cut off. There’s sort of this commentary on humanizing people I suppose with how the villain so clearly dehumanizes Curtis and treats him as a tool to his own ends, and then how we see Curtis imagining how the people he injured or killed while being Hardware might be affected not just in terms of “they got injured or killed” but also he imagines whatever their lives beyond working for Alva were. Curtis’s guilt is humanizing them in his head where earlier he said he had no remorse whatsoever.

Throughout the comic, there’s this metaphor for being trapped in a cage and then getting out but not actually being free (initially told through Curtis’s pet parakeet he had as a kid -- the parakeet flew out of his cage and tried to get out via the window, but only kept busting his head against the window, unable to understand he couldn’t go outside)

[image: 3 comic panels from hardware 1993 #1 showing young curtis metcalf standing in front of a window where a parakeet is laying down on his side with his feathers ruffled. curtis grabs the parakeet gingerly in his hands and puts the bird back in the cage with a clang. his internal monologue reads “my bird made a common error. he mistook being out of his cage... for being free.” end image]

Curtis straight up says that his earlier actions as hardware were not letting him be free: he turned hardware into another cage.

[image: 3 comic panels from Hardware (1993) #4 showing barraki young and Curtis Metcalf standing and talking. Curtis is initially looking down regretfully at his hardware helmet. He says “I built the hardware armor to help me escape from the cage that alva put me in. Then I proceeded to turn hardware into yet another cage.” he looks at a parakeet that is flying around his house (his new pet) and says “see, Alva will make a mistake... eventually. And then I’ll put him away for good. That’s still very important to me. But it’s not going to be my whole life.” end image]

I don’t know whether the cage was supposed to only be in terms of how he conducted himself as Hardware or whether it also extended to work life balance (right after this he says that he was not going to make putting Alva away his whole life, he is letting Barraki in rather than pushing her away and he got the parakeet) and also his general view of the world (I already analyzed how he changes the way that he views the people working for alva). Either way I feel like the way that it was addressed was in a very satisfying manner that never wound up being preachy but did ask a lot of questions.

EDIT:

more commentary on the parakeet analogy from the writer of hardware: season one (the new relaunch)

The original Hardware #1 opened with a flashback of a young Curtis Metcalf remembering his pet parakeet escaping its cage only to be stopped by a barrier of glass, mistaking “being out of the cage for being free.” A brilliant meta-commentary, Thomas believes that it is “one of the greatest monologues in the history of comics,” and perfectly captures the entire story of being black in America.

#dc comics #hardware 1993 #hardware #curtis metcalf #barraki young #dakotaverse #racism #in terms of the comic commenting on it and the what hte creators experienced

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mairalynnwrites · 3 years

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The 5 Times Johanna Mason Thought She Met Her Soulmate and the 1 Time She Was Sure Of It

The first time Johanna Mason met her soulmate, she was being sent to her death. It was a glance as she walked to her place in line for interviews. A glance at an older mentor, a handsome man whom she recognized from the gossip she had heard about him from the moment she got on the train. Finnick Odair, walking sex on legs, according to the capital. She groaned a little in the back of her throat. Of course she would meet her damn soulmate just before she died. And of course he had to be the prostitute of the capital. What was odd was that she did not see the flashing colors her childhood friends had described to her, merely shades of brown. That meant that this could be some sort of mistake, right?

Their eyes locked, and she noticed that she still couldn’t make out the color of his eyes. Odair’s back turned to her, saying a few words to his tributes before marching straight past her and out the door. Asshole. The second time Johanna Mason met her soulmate was after she had won her games, covered in the blood of more people than she wished to count. When she came back to after being healed in the hovercraft, he was sitting in the corner of the room.

“How’re you feeling?” He asked, standing and put his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels.

“You’re not my mentor”

“Duly noted,” He smiled a wry grin before continuing. “I pulled a few strings with your mentor, she’s waiting for you on the ground, no worries.”

“Oh, so you slept with her?” Johanna raised her eyebrows, her lips pulling into a smirk.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business” He noted, making sure the door was closed. Her hackles rose, and she stiffened on the bed she was sitting in, survival instincts more present than ever. He put his hands up as if to placate her, saying “There’s no lock, if you want to leave, you will have no difficulties from me, I just thought you might prefer to have this discussion in private.”

“What, you think that since I’m your soulmate, I’m just going to jump your bones?” Her eyes searched the tables near her, looking for anything that could be used as a weapon by or against her. He said that he meant no harm, but so had a lot of people in her life, and that sentence never ended up being true.

Odair chuckled under his breath, moving to sit on the end of her bed, his hands still raised to the sides of his head. “No. As my soulmate, there’s some things you should know, before you accidentally say anything in front of the people.” He moved even closer to her, and motioned to a scalpel that had been accidentally left on the table beside her by the people who healed her. “Grab it. It will make you feel safe and we need to be as close and quiet as possible in order to not be overheard on cameras” He whispered, moving his upper body closer to her as she hurriedly grabbed the scalpel next to her, holding it against his throat in silent saying of ‘don’t get any closer’.

He took a long breath, looking out the partially obscured window. “You can’t say anything about us being soulmates. You have to know, I’m not a capital prostitute by choice. You know better than anyone else that the capital is willing to do everything in their power to keep people controlled.”

She did know. She had just killed children, of course she knew. But there was something glinting in his eyes as he watched warily out the window, a bead of blood rising on his neck from where the scalpel was pressed to it. Oh. They had threatened him in some way. That’s what he meant. Then why did he say that- “You don’t mean that he’s going to want me to fuck half the Capitol.” She whispered to him, her eyes widening.

“You can’t tell anyone or they’ll kill us both. He sees the same thing in you he saw in me. Please.” His eyes looked back at hers, his voice dipping on the last word, ending in a silent plea.

“I just won these damn games and now you’re telling me I have no choice but to become a prostitute?” She glared at him, careful not to raise her voice as much as she wanted to.

“He’ll give you an ultimatum. Your life or your family’s. It’s just an illusion of a choice. But I’m not here to tell you what to do. I’m here to tell you that you need to say that you need to say that you can’t see any color. You’ve never met your soulmate. I came here to talk to you about what is expected from you as a victor if anyone asks.”

“God, this is such bullshit” She whispered, a small tear slipping down her cheek. He reached up and wiped it with his thumb, the scalpel still against his throat. Though she had no intention of using it, it felt good to have a defense against the older man.

“I know. I’m sorry.” He put his forehead against hers, and for once in her life, she felt still.

The third time Johanna Mason met her soulmate, she was once again being sent to her death, but with a plan this time. Although technically her and Finnick had talked briefly over the years, they had never discussed their situation, never discussed the feeling in their chests the longer they were apart from each other. Johanna’s family was dead, and she wasn’t willing to let the Capitol kill her soulmate too. The first night at the tribute building was haunting. She took to the roof, the cold air waking her. For a moment she entertained the thought of jumping, but she knew the Capitol would never let a tribute kill themselves. Where was the entertainment in that?

She didn’t even hear the boots walk up behind her. Damn it, she was so distracted by her thoughts she completely missed Odair walking up beside her. “Before my games I almost tried to kill myself by jumping off this building.” He said, a lilt in his voice. “I suppose it’s good I didn’t in a way, I did get to meet my soulmate after all.” He said with a smile evident in his voice, nudging his shoulder against hers, sending shocks from where he touched her.

“Damn, Odair, I didn’t know we were that close” She snarked, but with a smile on her face. Somehow, even with the possibility that she could die in the next few days, it was hard to be upset around Finnick.

“I’ve got a question for you, Mason.” He teased, leaning against the railing, facing her. “Did you really strip in the elevator in front of Haymitch, of all people?”

“Did you see my dress? It was hideous. I simply couldn’t stand to be in it anymore.” Her eyebrows raised, a small chuckle easing past her lips. “I’m surprised that you didn’t do the same, that net sure didn’t look comfortable.”

Finnick groaned, “Don’t remind me.” She laughed, the first time in a long time that she actually meant it. “Wow, if I knew that my misery caused you to laugh like that, I should have made myself miserable earlier.”

“Are there cameras on the roof, Mr. Secrets?” Johanna asked, taking a step closer to him.

“No. We aren’t supposed to be up here.” He replied, glancing around to make sure of his statement.

“Good.”

Her lips were on his. She didn’t care that she could die in a few days. Didn’t care that she was risking her life for a whiny District 12 girl. She only felt.

The fourth time Johanna Mason met her soulmate, she had barely made it onto the hovercraft in time to be rescued. Finnick was waiting in the main room, and without even thinking about it, she started running. She had just seen him minutes ago, but she was so full of relief that he had made it, that he wasn’t dead or captured, that she kissed him. Right there in the middle of the hovercraft, not even caring that Plutarch and Katniss’ other boy toy were trying to have a conversation. She placed a hand on his cheek, smoothing her thumb over the scabbed up cut on his face.

“We’re okay.” She whispered, for once allowing herself to be vulnerable.

“For now.” He whispered back, his own hands coming up to cradle her face.

“We can do this. She can do this.” Johanna whispered, saying what they both knew to be true.

The fifth time Johanna Mason met her soulmate was when they were gathering to leave for the capitol. She reached her hand out to his, grasping two of her fingers in her own. “If we both make it out of there in one piece, I’ll marry your sorry ass.” She said, trying to use sarcasm to cover her fear. It didn’t work.

“When we make it out of there, we will have the biggest wedding the world has ever seen.” He said, emphasizing the first word.

“I’ll make Annie my bridesmaid, I think.” She could barely say the words now. Her fear overtook her.

“She’d like that. You think Betee would mind being my groomsman?” He questioned, a smile in his voice.

She laughed sharply. “We really do love the crazies, don’t we?”

“Crazy attracts crazy, love.” He told her, taking her hands in his, noticing that they were both slightly shaking. “I love you. When we make it out of there, I promise I’ll never let anything get in our way again. We waited so long to have our share of happiness. We deserve a lifetime of peace.”

“Peace sounds nice.” She sniffed, trying and failing to stop her tears from falling. “And I love you too, I have for a while now.

“I know.”

The one time Johanna Mason was sure she had met her soulmate was in the capitol sewers, watching as her soulmate was being eaten alive by mutant beasts. “Katniss, you know what you need to do” She said, not being able to take her eyes off of Finnick's body. She listened to the quiet whispers of Nightlock and watched as her soulmate was granted a quick death, instead of a torturous death.

Her colors faded.

The world was black and white again.

#Johanna x Finnick #Johanna Mason #Finnick Odair #Johanna Mason x Finnick Odair #Hunger Games #The Hunger Games #Katniss Everdeen #Peeta Mellark

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j0elmill3r · 4 years

Text

It’s Quiet Uptown

Bucky Barnes x Daughter!Reader

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Warnings: Death, Angst, swearing,

Word Count: 3,006

A/N: This is 100% inspired by Hamilton, the lyrics are in bold and italic. I watched this and actually sobbed, so what better way to take out my emotional instability on all of you! This is really fucking sad, so yeah, beware of that I guess. I promise I'll get some requests done at some point! I hope you all enjoy this because I really liked writing this! The angst is right up at 100 for this, so have your tissues handy boys!

A shudder twisted through your body as your eyes peeled open to take in your rather grim surroundings. Nothing in this room gave you a feeling of safety or assurance, in all honesty, you thought you were already dead and you were a ghost. Grime and dirt coated the damp walls, creating an awful smell. The only light in the room was the dimming light bulb that was hanging over your head, illuminating you and only you, so you had no clue what kind of monsters were lurking in the shadowy corners of the room. You tried to struggle against the ropes you were tied to, but they had no give and you were only causing yourself more pain by struggling against them. Anxiety spiked in your chest - did your dad know you were here? Did he even know where you were in general? Your head snapped up to the huge, steel door in front of you creaking open. Grim nausea came over you, 3 men, all much stronger and larger than you walked in.

"I see our little fighter is awake," One of them said, crouching down beside you and brushing your hair away from the side of your face. "We were scared you would never wake up." He said, grinning at you evilly.

"I'm beginning to wish I didn't," You snarled, giving all three of them a dirty glare. You were doing your best to try and appear strong, but inside, you had never been more scared in your life. The rational side of your brain told you that you had no way of escaping, even if you did manage to get out of your restraints, these guys would easily catch up on you and put you right back on square one. But the other side of your brain told you that you were good enough to outsmart them and that you were trained well enough to escape and get back home without getting hurt.

"You're going to. After the state you left poor Logan in, we're gonna have to hurt you, sweetheart," Another said, coming out of the shadows and standing in front of you. "You put up one hell of a fight, did your daddy teach you how to fight like that?" He asked you mockingly. You sighed and smiled innocently.

"Yeah, he did," You said, experimenting in moving your legs so you could wake them up and make a run for it. "He also taught me that guys like you have the brain capacity of a goldfish." You said, looking up at him. You kicked him in the crotch and pushed yourself back on the chair, falling back and breaking the weak chair. Hope began to raise, you were actually going to get out of here. You slipped your arms out of the ropes and grabbed two of the legs of the chair, using them as your weapons of defence.

"You little bitch," You ducked as one of the men ran at you, hitting on the back as hard as you could with the leg of the chair, groaning when it did nothing other than snap in half. You gulped and saw you were surrounded. "That was the stupidest escape plan I've ever seen, what about you boys?"

"I've seen some things here, but a girl trying to outrun us and thinking she has a chance of getting out tops them all," One of them says, walking towards you. The other one followed him and soon you were surrounded. You didn't know what happened next, but you screamed, and then everything around you disappeared and turned to black.

"Where the fuck is she?!" Bucky roared. You were never one to go out without informing him, and the fact you hadn't answered anyone's phone calls or texts were making Bucky's anxiety levels spike through the roof. The rest of the team were sitting in one of the meeting rooms, trying to figure out where you could be. Steve was the first one brave enough to meet Bucky's enraged face. Bucky's anger wasn't aimed at the team, anything but. It was for himself for not being there to protect you, he felt as though he had in some way failed you.

"We're still looking for her," Steve said, looking up at Bucky with sorry eyes, a glint of remorse in his blue eyes. "But we know who took her." Steve added on.

"And who would it be?" Bucky asked. In fact, Bucky already knew who had taken you. Who else would be looking for a 16-year-old kid and try their damnedest to hide them? Steve sighed.

"HYDRA has her," Steve said. Dread filled Bucky's system and paralysed him. "We're still working on specifically where Y/N is, but we have everyone looking at every single possibility." Steve assured Bucky. Bucky scoffed and shook his head, running his hand down his face and holding tears back in his eyes.

"You better fucking find her, Steve. Because if you don't, I won't hesitate to knock the ever-loving shit outta you." Bucky threatened. Steve knew it was empty and that Bucky wouldn't do anything if they they couldn't locate you, Bucky would be too overcome with guilt to even think about harming him. Bucky wasn't angry at Steve or anyone else, he was angry at himself for letting this happen to you.

"I know this is difficult, Buck, but we're gonna find her," Steve told him. "I promise." Bucky looked up and looked at Steve with an aggressive furrowed brow.

"Do not promise shit, Steve! You don't know that we're gonna find her!" Bucky yelled, frustration on his features. Steve sighed and gave Bucky a sympathetic look.

"Okay, I don't. But we can't just rule out that we're not going to find her," Steve said. "You have to stay optimistic, Bucky."

"I stayed optimistic for years and look where it got me, Steve," Bucky said. "It's just easier to assume the worst, then when it comes I'm never surprised." Steve hated to see Bucky so hopeless, it was heartbreaking. No one else said anything, just trying to ignore their own looming fear. They all sat for a minute before one of the S.H.I.E.L.D agents came in, a nervous look on their face.

"Mr.Barnes, we-we uh, located your daughter,"

The dull throbbing of your head subsided as your eyes opened, you found yourself in a different room from the one you originally woke up in. This room was straight up dark, nothing gave you any light, you couldn't see anything. It felt like being trapped in a void, it felt like you couldn't even breathe. Your bones ached and screamed for you to sit back down as you stood up and tried to figure out where the door was, you found it bolted shut, but despite that, you tried your best to beat it open. But as soon as your fists made contact with the solid steel, you screamed out in pain as a burning feeling spread throughout your body, making it feel as though your whole body was on fire. You fell to your knees as a cries tore through you, you were doubled over, clutching your stomach. A crackle came across the intercom system, making you look up at the ceiling. In all honesty, you didn't know if it was the ceiling anymore, your whole sense of orientation felt off.

"Good morning, Y/N," A voice said, it sounded like one of the men that had knocked you out. "If you can't feel it already, there's a deadly serum in your blood that will kill you if your father does not get here within 10 hours," You could picture the grin on his face as he spoke, telling you of your inevitable fate. "If he doesn't get here, you will die alone in a dark room, where no one is likely to find you." He finished. Fear hit you like a speeding train that dragged you along the tracks. Everything fell silent, making it all worse for you. You fell into a corner, sitting with your legs out and head against the corner. The fear of your dad not finding you made you burst into tears. You didn't want to die, no, not right now. You wanted to go to prom, have a real boyfriend, get married, have children, have a life. But you didn't even know if your dad knew you were missing, or if he even cared. You didn't know how long you had been crying for, but it was long enough for you to know it was getting closer. You knew you were really alone, there had been no snide remarks from your captors. You were hot, sweat stuck your hair to your forehead and your clothes to your body. At some point, you had ran out of tears and had become numb to the situation facing you. You felt tired, like you could close your eyes and just go to sleep for days upon days. It was a peaceful numbness, it felt good to finally feel like you could sleep without fear of nightmares. You could finally rest well and not have to worry about anything anymore.

Bucky's anxiety was spiking, he was filled with fear and dread. He didn't want to think of the unimaginable, but knew it was a high probability, probably the highest among all of the other options. He and Steve decided that they would go, you trusted them both the most and if there was anyone who could calm you down after something going wrong, it was Bucky. The base was quiet, were you even here? Steve and Bucky searched for any trace of you in the seemingly abandoned base, but found no trace of you. Bucky peered into one of the rooms and saw a bloodstain on the floor, it made his stomach lurch.

"Steve," Bucky called out, turning on his heel. Steve came into the room and grimaced, then looking to Bucky. "Do you think it's hers?" Bucky asked fearfully.

"It's dry, Buck. I don't think so," Steve murmured. Bucky let out an exasperated groan, where the fuck were you? A shrill, pain filled scream got both super soldiers attention. They both followed the sound to a huge, steel door. Bucky knew that scream, he raised that scream.

"Y/N?!" Bucky cried. Relief flooded him, but it was replaced by fear, why were you screaming? "Y/N, honey, tell me what's going on?!" Bucky yelled, watching as Steve made attempts to try and get the solid door open? You didn't answer him, causing the fear inside of him to rise. "Dammit, Y/N, answer me!" Bucky yelled, his voice breaking. Steve got the door open, they waited in fear as it creaked open. Bucky was the first to walk in, freezing when he saw you slumped in a corner, your eyes glassy and tired. This is what it was. It was the dreaded unimaginable. Bucky made his way over to you, his guiding light being that from the hallway of the base. "Y/N, honey."

"Dad," You said quietly. Bucky smiled and nodded as tears came to his eyes, he tried to hide them from you, but knew you were smarter than that. You sluggishly brought your hand up to his face to wipe away his tears. "Don't be sad." You told him. Steve had taken a step back, standing outside of the room to keep his own emotions in check. Steve wanted to push away the unimaginable. Bucky smiled and pushed your sticky hair away from your forehead, smiling at you sadly.

"You're gonna be alright, honey," Bucky assured you, maybe also himself. "You can rest, you can let go. It's okay." He said, kissing the top of your head. You smiled at him lazily.

"I love you," You said quietly. Bucky let out a sob and pulled you onto his lap gently, sitting against the wall.

"I love you too, Y/N," Bucky whispered. Your head lay on his shoulder as your already shallow breaths became more and more shallow, until they eventually stopped all together. Bucky felt his heart stop at that very moment. He broke down, sobbing into your shoulder and hiding his face. Steve felt his heart shatter, you were like the daughter he never had, any time Bucky couldn't have with you, Steve was always happy to make up. And now you were gone.

can you imagine?

There is suffering too terrible to name. Bucky didn't want to know if you suffered, part of him wished that you didn't feel any pain, but the part of him that knew HYDRA told him that they didn't do painless. He resigned from the Avengers, they understood, they didn't pretend to know The challenges he was facing. Bucky moved to uptown New York, he had to get away from everything, but had to learn to live with the unimaginable. Bucky never quite understood grief or loss before, in fact, he had never truly experienced it before. No amount of preparation could have prepared him for the amount of grief he was going to experience due to your death. It tore him apart in the most brutal of ways, every time he walked by a park and saw parents with their young children, he couldn't help but a shed a tear. That had been him once, he had to put your plasters on your scrapes when you fell off of the swings, he had to pull you away while you cried and screamed. Now, he didn't get to have a child. The days blended into each other, every day felt the exact same, quiet, dull and lifeless. Bucky came to the conclusion that he never realised just how much he never liked the quiet before. You were the light in Bucky's life, and now he was left in the dark without you.

Steve and Natasha stood outside of the apartment that Bucky lived in, a bag of groceries in each of their hands. The door opened to reveal the dishevelled Bucky Barnes, he looked broken.

"Hey," Bucky said quietly. They could tell he'd been crying, his voice was hoarse and his eyes were red. "Come in." Bucky moved out of the door, letting Natasha and Steve in. They looked around, seeing old photo albums out on the table, multiple cups of coffee placed around the apartment. Both Natasha and Steve sighed, turning to face the vulnerable looking Bucky.

"Buck-"

"Steve, please don't give me any of the it's gonna get better bullshit, because I've heard too much of it," Bucky said. "I don't get why people are telling me that. My daughter is dead. I'm never gonna get to scare away any potential boyfriends, and the one I don't scare off won't get to ask me if he can marry her. I won't get to do any of that," Bucky's voice broke, so did Natasha and Steve's heart. "God, if I could just see her smile one more time, that would be enough."

"I'll leave these here," Natasha said, putting the plastic bag on the counter top. "I have to go." She said, smiling at Bucky, who returned the gesture. Natasha left, leaving Steve and Bucky.

"How are you doing?" Steve asked, sitting down on the couch beside Bucky. Bucky sighed and looked up.

"Okay, I guess," He answered.

"Do you want to talk about her?" Steve asked him. As much as it hurt, Bucky liked to talk about you. He nodded.

"I think she would like it uptown, it's quiet uptown," Bucky said. Steve nodded and smiled. "It's just like the moments when you're in so deep It feels easier to just swim down," Bucky explained. "I just really miss her." Bucky looked down as he felt the all too familiar sting of tears come to his eyes.

"We all do," Steve told Bucky. "I never told you because Y/N begged me not to, but she was going out with that Parker kid before she died." Steve revealed. Bucky laughed and nodded.

"I already knew. I just didn't want to burst their bubble, they thought they were doing well at hiding it," Bucky said, a smile on his face. "I just didn't want to say anything because I thought it would upset her." They both sat in comfortable silence for a minute before Steve decided to speak up.

"I know there's no replacing what you've lost, and you need time, but if time is what you need, then you'll get it," Steve told him, noticing that Bucky was tearing up.

"I just really want her back. If I could spare her life , I could trade her life for mine, God, I would do it in a heartbeat," Bucky said. "She-she was barely 16, Steve. She hadn't even gotten out of highschool. She wanted to do so much, and now she'll never get to do it." Bucky broke down into tears, Steve too had shed a few, but he didn't have the same rights to mourn as Bucky, he didn't even want to begin to understand how he was feeling. Steve put his arm around Bucky and let him cry into his shoulder. Bucky hadn't ever cried this much, never in his century of living. Everything hurt, Bucky wanted to give up, but knew if he did, you would come and kick his ass in the afterlife. He had to keep going and work through the unimaginable.

For you.

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littlesliceofmarvel · 4 years

Text

manipulating a god | chpt. eight

Synopsis: Trying to break the information out of Loki during the attack of 2012 wasn’t exactly the easiest task, but it was a challenge you were willing to take head on. So, what happened when a master manipulator tried to get information from the God of Mischief?

Series warnings: swearing, mentions of violence, blood, gore

Pairings: Stark!Reader x Loki

A/N: hope you enjoy this next chapter :) it’s picking up, at last! (gif not mine)

Bruce looked down to his right hand, eyes narrowing once he noticed that he was indeed carrying the weapon. He looked back up to face the group, eyes wide and confused. You had to admit, he didn’t even seem like he remembered grabbing it.

You nearly jumped out of your bones when a loud beeping sounded from one of the computers — it signalled that the location of the Tesseract had been found.

“Oh, goodie,” you sighed sarcastically, crossing your arms and squinting to see the screen. The tension in the room was palpable and you hated it.

No one dared to speak as Bruce placed the sceptre down, “Sorry kids, you don’t get to see my party trick after all.” He walked over to the beeping computer, tense and angry. You nerves were on edge.

“You located the Tesseract?” Thor asked, his loud voice startling you. It was rather loud in the quiet room, you thought.

“I could get there fastest,” Tony raised his hand before crossing his arms. You turned over to him, nodding your head, before turning back to face Bruce.

Thor spoke up again, “The Tesseract belongs on Asgard. No human is a match for it.” He looked over to Fury, hoping the director would understand.

“We should send you to get it then,” you said, nudging your head in Thor’s direction, “I don’t want to go near that thing.”

Tony began to walk towards the doorway, mumbling something about ‘I’ll do it myself’ — until, however, he was cut off by Steve grabbing his arm.

“You’re not going alone,” Steve said, glaring at Tony.

“You’re gonna stop me?” your brother pressed, stepping closer to Steve. Both of them seemed to radiate anger and you stepped back to avoid being caught in the crossfire.

“Put on the suit, let’s find out,” Steve’s eyebrows were furrowed, his eyes thin.

“I’m not afraid to hit an old man,” Tony rebutted through gritted teeth. He seemed calmer than Steve, but you knew your brother well enough to tell he was running on a short fuse.

“Chill, divas,” you put an arm between them, “We need to work together.”

Steve ignored you, pushing your arm out of the way and stepping even closer, “Put on the suit.”

You sighed, throwing your arms in the air. There was nothing you could do to to pry these two apart. You supposed that’s what happens when you put two hotheads together, though.

“Oh, my God,” Bruce’s voice caught your attention. You looked over, stepping closer to see if you could see anything.

“What—,”

You were knocked backwards, flying through the air and crashing into a wall. An explosion had been set off, fire coming up through the grates in the floor. The entire helicarrier shook and the sound was deafening.

Shit.

You groaned, trying your best to lift your head. You placed your hand to your forehead, a small trickle of blood making its way down your face.

Your mind was fuzzy and your body felt numb as you pushed yourself up. The rest of the group was scattered — but Bruce and Natasha were gone. You looked down, spotting a massive hole in the floor, and figured they probably fell down there.

You heard Steve’s voice through the smoke, “Put on the suit.”

Tony agreed, and you could hear the two of them rushing out of the room. Before he could exit, however, Tony stopped in front of you and helped you up.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes wide.

You nodded slowly, “Yeah. Just go. I gotta go check on Loki.”

He stood up and ran, Steve by his side, and disappeared down the smoky corridor. You placed a hand to your ear, turning on your Bluetooth earpiece and checked once more to make sure everyone in the room was stable before darting down the same way Tony and Steve had just went.

Loki was on your mind; this had to be his doing. You weren’t sure how anyone had found him, but that was the only explanation you could think of.

“All hands to stations,” you heard through the PA, not slowing down as you continued running. Your ears were ringing and your hands felt tingly, but you didn’t stop. You aimed to stop this before it escalated.

You were slowly starting to regret signing up for this.

You arrived at Loki’s cell, flashing your ID badge and making sure the door shut behind you as you walked in. You were well aware you looked dirty and panicked, but Loki looked relatively calm and collected.

A small smirk graced his lips, “Ah. Welcome back, Y/N.”

“Cut the bullshit,” you snapped, causing his smirk to grow, “What the hell happened out there?”

You could hear Fury and Romanoff talking through your earpiece, but you ignored it best you could as you stormed straight up to the glass cell.

“Lovely to see you too,” he replied cooly, eyes darting back and forth between you and the door behind you. You stepped away from it; there had to be a reason he kept looking at it and you did not want to be in the way if anything happened.

“Loki, this isn’t a game,” you crossed your arms, watching in anticipation as he walked over to you slowly.

“I suggest you get off of this ship if you want to stay away from harm,” he shrugged, placing his fist against the glass and looking down at you. Even under his piercing, angry gaze, you couldn’t help the fact that your knees bucked.

As if on cue, the door behind you opened and a group of men dressed in all black tactical suits barged in. You didn’t recognize any of them, but it was easy to decipher they weren’t working for Shield.

“Get the girl,” one of them shouted, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

“Don’t harm her,” Loki told him as the man grabbed you by the waist, pressing the cool barrel of the gun against your temple. Your hands began to shake and fear flooded you — with everyone busy fixing the engine, how were you supposed to get out of this?

Before anyone could respond, you heard a roar-like yell echo through the vents.

Your breathing was heavy and your mind was scattered, but you knew exactly what that was. And based on Loki’s smirk, he knew what it was too. Bruce had become the Hulk.

“I have to—,” you began to speak, mind racing, but were shortly cut off by the man gripping you even tighter. You winced, your ribs already feeling sore from being blasted backwards after the explosion.

“What’s the code?” one of the men asked, looking over at you, “The code to open the cell.”

You swallowed thickly, wishing more than anything that someone would come in to save you. Being responsible for giving Loki’s men the code to help him escape was not something you wanted on your conscious.

“1234,” you replied grimly, mustering the most deadly glare you could. The men all chuckled at the ridiculous password before the one at the control panel pressed away at the keypad.

You watched with bated breath as the cell opened up, Loki’s smirk never faltering as he stepped out.

Great, you thought, another fucking problem.

Loki slowly walked over to you, his eyes glistening. He seemed way too pleased about al of this — but then again, this had been his plan all along. Of course he was pleased.

“How can I ever repay you?” he asked surprisingly softly, placing his hand on your forehead. His fingers were cold — it was soothing against the burning wound there.

“Get off our planet,” you growled, trying to wiggle away from the man still holding you, “It would be a lovely way to repay me.”

He chuckled, his gaze turning harsh as he looked at the man holding you, “Let go of her, you mortal.”

You sighed in relief as the man let go of you before turning back to Loki, “Seems you’re also a hypocrite. What was all that shit about you won’t be spared, huh?”

He grabbed you by the forearm, bringing you close to him so he was practically flushed against you, “Seems I’ve had a change of heart. Now, you’re coming with me.”

“Oh, no I’m not,” you scoffed, trying your best to dig your feet into the ground as he began to pull you alongside him. His men had picked up on the fact that he wanted to leave; they had all exited the room.

“Yes, you are,” he turned around, a sinister smile on his face. It made your blood run cold. How could someone be so terrifying, yet so stupidly attractive? It didn’t make sense.

As he began to drag you, the entire ship seemed to topple over as another engine seemed to fail. You lost your balance, Loki tightening his grip on you to help keep you up. You could hear Tony and Steve bantering through your earpiece as they tried to fix the engines.

You stabilized yourself and peered behind Loki, stopping dead in your tracks as you looked at the cell. There was another Loki in it, watching as the cell door slowly opened in front of him.

“What the hell—,”

Thor suddenly charged through the door of the room, trying to keep his brother trapped in, only to fall right through the illusion of him and have the cell shut and trap him in.

“Thor!” you pulled away from Loki, who was pressing the button, and rushed over to the cell, slamming your fist against the glass, “Loki, you slithering bastard, let him out.”

Thor looked up, his face falling as he spotted the real Loki.

“Are you ever not going to fall for that?” Loki smirked, placing his arms behind his back and walking over to you, grabbing your wrist once more.

“Let go of me!” you pulled against him to no avail. Your fighting only seemed to cause Loki’s smirk to grow.

Oh, how you couldn’t wait for the day you’d get to stab him in his perfect cheekbones.

You looked over to Thor, who’s eyes were wide and watching Loki drag you back to the control panel. You looked at Thor in panic, your breathing ragged.

Thor, running low on options, lifted his hammer, smashing it against the glass. It didn’t break, but the crack it left was enough to set the suspensions off.

“Don’t touch the glass!” you cried, “It’ll only drop you!”

Loki let go of you, his mouth curving up into a grin. The door behind you opened and one of his men walked back into the room, a large gun strapped to his chest.

Somehow, you feared him more than you feared Loki.

“The humans think us immortal,” Loki spoke to Thor, eyeing the control panel with delighted interest, “Shall we test that?”

Your heart felt as if it had stopped as Loki approached the button.

“No!”

“Oh—,”

Your eyes snapped to where Loki’s defense man fell to the ground, out cold. Phil Coulson stood above him, an even larger gun in his hand, rather proud of himself for taking the guy out.

“Oh, shit,” you scurried out of the way, trying your best to avoid being caught in the aim. You recognized the weapon as one of the ones Fury had designed — but you had no idea what it was capable of.

“Move away, please,” Phil’s voice was firm, steady, as he approached Loki, who was slowly stepping away from the control panel with his hands up.

The tension was high. You were pressed up against a wall, Thor was trapped in a cage, and Phil was slowly cornering Loki.

“You like this?” Phil asked, lifting the gun slightly, “We started working on the prototype after you sent the Destroyer. Even I don’t know what it does.”

Loki’s surrender seemed too easy — and you knew you were right as soon as another Loki appeared behind Phil, his sceptre inches away from stabbing him through the chest.

Without thinking, you rushed towards him, knocking Phil out of the way and bringing Loki down to the ground with a loud echoing thud.

Instinct wasn’t always the right choice, and you knew that was right when Loki spun you around, pushing you to the ground.

“How dare you—,”

“You were about to fucking kill him,” you shouted, lifting your knee and kicking him between the legs. Loki groaned, kneeling over.

“Phil, get out!” you shouted, waving your hand like a maniac as you noticed Phil was still standing there, his gun aimed at Loki.

Phil seemed to sense your tone, gripping the large weapon even tighter as he sighed and began to exit the room. You wished he had left the gun behind — it would have come in useful — but you were glad he was out of harm’s way for the moment.

Loki forced you to the ground once more and stepped over you, approaching the control panel and pressing the large button before anyone else could interrupt him.

“No!”

You watched in horror as the helicarrier opened up below, and Thor — stuck inside the cage — fell from the sky.

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thinkyoureholy · 4 years

Text

Blessed With A Curse [3]

Pairing : Kang Yeosang / [fem] Reader

Genre : Angst, Violence, Language, Fluff, Smut, Greek God!AU

Words : 2.8k

Previous Chapter. - Next Chapter.

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

-Yeosang’s P. O. V-

I ran through the dense forest, forcing my legs to go faster. This sense of dread and urgency had filled my entire being for the past hour. I couldn’t quite place why I was feeling like this but I knew I had to get there quick. I didn’t know why I was feeling this but it was a feeling all too familiar to me. Images of them crying out to me for help as they were mercilessly slaughtered painted the walls of my mind, their screaming echoing loudly. With that in my mind I pushed myself harder, my chest heaving up and down rapidly as I ran. I was so focused on getting there in time I didn’t sense those that hid behind the trees until it was too late.

I barely managed to deflect the arrow that was aimed straight for my heart. I grit my teeth when a sword followed that arrow, once again narrowly missing its mark as I blocked it.

“Athena!” I growled, pushing back against her, slamming my shoulder into her to throw her back.

I raised my sword up high, about to cut her down when I froze at the cry that rang through the forest.

“Yeosang!!”

I looked around desperately, trying to figure out in which direction her voice came from. I was only distracted for a second but that was enough for one of them to kick my legs out from underneath me, landing a blow to my face at the same time. There was only one that had that kind of speed, my eyes finding him quickly.

“Hermes.” I snarled, glaring up at him.

I quickly got to my feet but as soon as I did I felt something like a whip hit my back. I turned to see someone I least expected, my eyes growing wide.

“Poseidon?” I expected the rest of them to be here, hell I even expected Apollo but never Poseidon.

“YEOSANG!”

I inhaled sharply at the pain filled shout that filled the quiet forest. I turned in every direction, wanting to go to her but I didn’t know which way to go. Frustrated, I let out a cry of my own, the sound that fell from my lips almost animalistic as the ground shook underneath my feet.

“Where is she!?” I shouted, my eyes darted over all of them, falling on Artemis, the one closest to me, “What the hell are you doing to her!?”

Artemis didn’t even flinch as she looked me dead in the eye, not bothering to answer as Athena spoke for her, “You’re the reason we had to go after her in the first place.”

I whirled around to face her, about to kill her where she stood but before I could bring my sword down Y/N’s screams stopped me. This time she didn’t even call out my name, her cries higher and filled with agony. My hand shook as I gripped my sword tightly, the sense of dread that filled my heart only growing as I continued to helplessly hear her cry out. I knew I could beat them if I just lost myself to my temper and my impulses but if I did that I’d lose control. If I lost control I’d tear this whole forest apart and burn it to ashes, taking her along with them. I bit my bottom lip harshly as I thought of what to do. I could fight them as I was but with hearing her screams every few seconds I don’t know how well I’d fare against them. Each scream, each cry had my heart twisting painfully in my chest, the lump in my throat only growing bigger and bigger.

“Once we’re done with her we’ll finish you off once and for all.” Hermes said as Poseidon continued, “But for now you’ll have to hear the agony she’s going through.”

I inhaled shakily through my nose, my eyes filling with unshed tears for the first time in I don’t know how long, “Why..? Why must you go after everything I care about? Was casting me out of my home not enough for you?!”

Athena raised her head slightly, the look in her eyes filled with contempt, “You, more than anyone, know why we cast you out, Ares.”

“You lot were deceived! I am many things but I would never do that to Hephaestus!” I shouted, already sick and tired of having to defend myself, “You’ve already cast me out so why are you doing all of this?! Why go after her?! She’s innocent in all of this!”

They all just stared at me, emotionless, probably enjoying the look of desperation on my face. I reached out and grabbed Poseidon’s arm, my fingers digging into his skin.

“Please, I’m begging you, stop this,” I begged, my voice breaking as another one of her cries pierced the air.

“You should’ve never given her your mark if you wanted to keep her out of all this.” Poseidon said, his voice void of emotion, “You know exactly how your humans get once their power is unlocked, they’re more troublesome than you are.”

“But she hasn’t even done anything yet! Is that not enough to let her live!? She’s carried my mark with her since she was born, twenty-two years have gone by and she has not once raised a weapon against another! There’s a possibility she may never even unlock that power!” I yelled, my breath catching in my throat as I looked over them, “It doesn’t matter what I say to you does it? You’re going to kill her regardless of how I plead for her to be spared…” I trailed off as I finally realized nothing I said would get them to stop.

“Yeosang! Help me! Please!!”

I gasped as I sat up, jolted awake by the nightmare I was stuck in. I was panting heavily, the nightmare still so vivid in my mind. I curled in on myself, clawing at my heart, the organ beating painfully in my chest. The sense of dread had failed to leave me even as I woke up, getting the feeling that this was some kind of premonition. Just the thought sent my heart racing as it throbbed in my chest. As I tried to calm myself I gripped the hilt of my sword tightly, only one thing on my mind as an intense fire burned in my eyes.

……

I smiled softly as the wind carried her laugh over to me, catching a glimpse of the joyful look on her face. But the smile soon left my lips as I caught sight of him, a frown now adorning my face. I’ve been shadowing Y/N for a little over a month now and in that time I’ve seen just how close she is with Apollo. I was sure I threatened him to keep away from her, I guess I’ll just have to teach him what happens when you don’t heed my words. I clenched my hands into tight fists, taking a step towards the two of them but stopped at the voice that called out to me from my right.

“I don’t think that’s very wise, brother.”

I ground my teeth at the sound of her voice, turning slowly to face her, “Athena...you’ve got guts showing your face around me. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

I was trying to stay calm, afraid that if I lost my temper I’d end up destroying everything within miles of where I stood. If I did that then Y/N would get hurt, and that’s the last thing I wanted. So, for her sake, I was holding off on ramming my sword through Athena’s heart. But the condescending look she wore on her face was hard to ignore. I dug my nails into my palm, drawing blood as I forced myself to endure it.

“I have something of importance to talk to you about.” She said, her lips quirking up into a smirk.

“Tell me why you’re here or leave. I have no time for your games.” I snapped, waiting for her to state her business but she kept quiet. I scoffed, glaring at her for a moment longer before turning my back on her.

“It has something to do with that human girl you seem to be fond of.” She called out, the teasing tone in her voice clear as day.

I tensed at her words but kept my back to her, “What about her?”

A moment of silence fell over us, the air surrounding us so tense it was almost suffocating, “I hear you’ve claimed her. If she carries your mark then you know better than anyone what that means. She’s an Athenian so I-”

I couldn’t control myself anymore. I turned on my heel and reached out, grabbing her neck with my hand, “You what?” I seethed, bringing her in closer so our faces were inches apart, my hand squeezing her throat tightly but not tight enough she couldn’t get a word out.

“I have...authority...over her…” She choked out, digging her nails into my wrist to get my to let go but I only squeezed harder.

“Let’s get something straight here, little sister. You can have authority over all the Athenians you like, hell you can have it over everyone else in the world but you have absolutely no authority over Y/N. She is mine and mine alone,” I growled, throwing her to the ground as I stood over her, “You lot have taken all my humans from me, all of them! I will not allow you to take another. I’ll kill you before you even get the chance.”

She scoffed, pushing herself up off the ground, sitting up and staring at me with contempt, “I’ve fought you and won before, I’ll do it again.”

I chuckled darkly as I crouched down in front of her, reaching forward to roughly grab her chin with my thumb and index finger, “Just try it. I can guarantee you won’t win a second time. You’ve all taken everything good I’ve ever had, my home, my people, everything. I will no longer allow you to do as you please. Stay away from her if you know what’s good for you. I will not hesitate to cut you down where you stand. If you do not heed my warning then prepare yourself for a battle you won’t come out of alive, not even your wit will be able to save you,” I spat out, throwing her head back roughly.

I rose to my full height, staring down at her for a moment before turning my back on her. It took everything in me not to kill her in that instant by I restrained myself. For all the hate I had for her and the rest of my siblings there was still a part of me that wished to protect them from all harm, even though I knew those feelings weren’t reciprocated. And knowing that, hurt more than anything but I’ve learned to live with it all these years. But I will not let them get away with threatening Y/N, they can do what they like with me but she is off limits, not even I can touch her.

-Y/N’s P.O.V-

“Wooyoung can you bring in the apples from the back!?” I called out, barely sparing a glance over my shoulder as I placed the last orange where it belonged.

I placed the crate underneath the table, leaving it there for later. As I straightened back out I felt eyes on me. I turned on my heel, seeing the man from the cave standing in the doorway. It had been a month since I last saw him but nothing about him had changed. Actually, now that the sun is out I got to see his face better. I thought he was handsome at night with his hair framing his face due to the rain but I couldn’t even see a fraction of his handsomeness in the rain. With the sun out without a cloud in the sky his skin seemed to glow, his hair perfectly styled out of his face and his eyes, they shined brightly, holding me captive.

“Yeosang…” I murmured without thinking.

He grinned the moment his name fell from my lips, a blush coating my cheeks at the look that crossed his eyes. I quickly looked away, feeling like I was being sucked into those beautiful eyes of his. He chuckled, the sound deep and resonated in my ears.

“I’m glad to see that you remember my name.” He said with a grin still on his face, his tone light as he continued, “I was worried you had forgotten about me already.”

“How could I forget someone like you?” I asked, again speaking without thinking.

When I realized what I said I cleared my throat, glancing at him for a moment only to see the grin on his face widened, his eyes shining brighter than before. Ah, why did I say that? Why am I just saying everything that comes to mind without thinking it over?! What the hell is wrong with me today?!

He chuckled once more, the sound lighter than before, a fondness in his voice as he spoke, “Well I’m glad I made such a strong impression,” His smile softened before it disappeared and a frown took its place, “Though I’m sure it wasn’t a very good impression. I’m sorry about how cryptic I was that night, it wasn’t my intention to frighten you. I also apologize for being so rude to you…”

He averted his eyes as he spoke, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Just the sight had my heart racing. What?! Why are you going out of control?! Stop that!, I shouted to myself, scolding my heart for being so affected by these minuscule actions of his. I shook my head, trying to clear it of the thoughts that wanted to invade my mind, thoughts of him.

“Uh...well…”I trailed off, not knowing what to say, “Apology accepted… I guess…?”

He laughed, the sound different from when he chuckled lightly, dare I say this laugh of his sounded even better than the first, “Ah, you’re a lot more entertaining than I thought…” He murmured under his breath.

“Huh?”

He shook his head, the smile on his face seeming to be permanent. He opened his mouth to say more but before he could another voice interjected, “Y/N! Where do you want these?”

I quickly whipped around to see Wooyoung walking over to me with that crate of apples I had asked him to grab, “Where they always go.”

He didn’t even spare me a glance as he glared at Yeosang, the hold he had on the crate tightening. I raised a brow, confused over what had gotten into him. As I went to question him about it Yeosang spoke up.

“So, do you—do you think you can help me out with a little shopping?” He asked, a bit hesitant to voice his question.

I stared at him in shock, his words catching me off guard. It was such a simple request, one I’ve done for many customers in the past. So why did I find it so shocking coming from him? He must’ve mistaken the shock in my eyes for something else as he began apologizing.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I’m sure you’re busy-“

“No!” I said, my voice higher than normal, “No...it’s—it’s okay. I’d love to help.”

The grin he wore earlier reappeared on his face as he followed after me, deeper into the shop.

-Yeosang’s P. O. V-

I paused for a moment as we walked by Apollo. I gave him a quick glance to see his head was slightly bowed as he gripped an apple tightly in his hands. I smirked at the sight of his obvious anger, loving the way his whole body trembled with the rage he felt within.

“You did well, brother,” I said in a low voice, placing my hand on his shoulder, “I hope you continue to stay out of my way. If you do so you have my word there will be no problems between the two of us but if you slip up even once…” I trailed off, placing my hand on his shoulder and squeezed roughly, drawing a hiss of pain from his lips, “Not only will I pay you back for the betrayal you put me through on Olympus but for touching what is so rightfully mine. I won’t kill you, at first. I’ll put you through so much unimaginable pain that you’ll be begging me to kill you. But that’d be showing you too much mercy and as you know...I’m not the merciful type.”

General Tags : @mirror-juliet

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power-of-plot · 3 years

Text

Armin Arlet x Fem! Reader. Oneshot. -Strong-

The first paragraph is purely a small introduction, just in case you wanna go straight to the fic :)

First of all, thanks for reading this! So! i often considered posting but i'm insecure, today i somehow got the confidence and courage to post -definitely not due to watching anime motivational speeches-. I wanted my first post to be something special so i dived deep down into my thoughts for a couple hours, i'm pretty happy with my choice so hope you enjoy it! My apologies if this sucks.

WARNINGS: Some sadness ig? -Armin being a pure soul. Fluff

Summary: Armin suddenly gets an injury during ODM gear training. After Reiner and his protective nature lend a helping hand, you see beyond the walls of his stoicism, people around him made his lack of strenght clear as day and he seemed to accept it but you never wondered if that caused him any pain at all. He needs to know everything has more than one meaning including what is called strenght, you gladly stay by his side to remind him different doesn't mean wrong.

Year 848 three years after the Colossal titan's misterious appearance, in Paradis Island Keith Shadis trained and yelled his lungs out at what soon would be the 104th Cadet Corps. Like any other day, the young cadets rutinarily trained to master the ODM gear, it all would have been the same as other sessions if it wasn't for Armin Arlet, your close and femenine looking friend who in a reckless (and failed-) attempt of proving himself strong to his group discretly tried performing a complex manouver resulting in him crashing into a tree. The few people ahead of him who stopped momentantarily to admire the manouever slowly resumed their way to the target they've had been assigned, just after a couple minutes of trying to walk bearing the pain the silhouette of someone along with the sound of gas and wires pulling something was getting closer by the second at the injured male. "Who's t-.. oh no.." Being around that person for so long made his oceanic eyes know who that brawny body and short blond hair belonged to inmediately, his deep voice shouting erased all the doubt. "Armin!" Reiner said rushing towards him as soon as his feet touched the the grass. As he looked for injuries, finding a twisted ankle, scrapes and bruises; Armin confirmed his suspicions: Reiner had dropped on what he was doing again just to help a single person. Right when he thought the guilt couldn't turn bigger he heard another familiar voice, this one belonged to a female. "Reiner! I saw you going back, what happened? Wait- Armin?!" Your voice turned alarmed after your (e/c) eyes catched a glimpse of your friend's characteristic golden hair, as if that would magically heal his injuries you rocketed towards your comrades at full speed. The crash- landing was rather ungraceful but it was merely trivial compared to an injured friend "(Y/N) are you-" Reiner held out his arms as he walked towards you but you ran past him leaving him standing alone with his arms opened like a rejected boy "Armin!!" You crouched down to him as it seemed he couldn't stand up, worrying you even more "...Hey (Y/N)... what are you..." His glance went lower as the guilt and shame's hand pushed his head down "What do you mean what am i doing? I noticed Reiner was going back from the front and i couldn't find you!- Hey what's wrong?" You asked after noticing a hint of sadness in his eyes, tilting your head and resting your forearms on your knees "Nothing, i must have hit my head that's all.." -because i dared prove something even myself knew full well- He replied blunty, making an adition mentally. His analytic mind was acting as a double ended weapon, either overnalyzing each and every one of his flaws or making the weight his frail shoulders were already carrying heavier. "Armin get on" Reiner said kneeling down turning his back to Armin so he could get on "Hm? It's not necessary, i-i'll just take my time to- ah!" Without further asking the muscular soldier turned around scooping your friend up from the ground into his arms bridal style, his eyes fixed on the grass and his lips released a soft sigh as embarrasment was displayed on his face. In other situation you'd have joked about how he looked cute being held like a baby but a hunch plus his face kept you completely from doing so. "You want to recover fast, don't you?" Reiner asked preparing his equipment to propulse himself again "Y-yeah but why.." "You'll only worsen your condition if you try walking, bear with it just for a while. Besides, what kind of soldier would i be if i left a friend behind knowing i can help him?" His hazel eyes noticed you were about to say something so he remained still to let you get close "It's okay don't be so hard on yourself i just crashed on the ground a moment ago, how did you call it the other day..? You didn't make a mistake, it was a happy accident! (Armin is Bob Ross.) How did you even find out about that manouever anyway?" "I've been analyzing the instructor's movements for a while now..." You deduced Reiner would take him to the infirmary wich he confirmed with a nod after you asked and so, it didn't take a single second for you to decide you'd go with them. The three of you flew and swung across the forest though it seemed like it only was you and Reiner, Armin was so quiet for a moment you even thought he was asleep.

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

"..Thank you very much Reiner" The blond thanked him now lying on his bunk, his ankle was bandaged up and his minor injuries were treateed "No problem, don't do anything until you're sure it won't hurt you got it?" "Don't worry Reiner i'll keep an eye on him 'till he's good as new!" You said cheerfuly with a smile as you sat by Armin's side, not caring a bit you were of the few girls in there. Once Reiner walked to his own bunk with Bertholdt you turned to Armin with a curious look "So what're you thinking about, you've been very quiet so it must be serious. Any new interesting thing about the outside world?" "Not really." His response was blunt again, something was definitely on his mind otherwise you couldn't explain why he wasn't as talkative as always. As he quietly stared at the matress above him you tried figuring out what could be bothering the boy since it was a lost cause trying to make him say it, you learnt this after countless tries, thankfully you could always ask for some help with Mikasa; her skills at everything including reading people were so good it was almost frightening. She wasn't there at the time and you couldn't rely on the others forever, a small leap of faith wouldn't do any harm, would it? There was only one thing you could think of. "Armin you are not weak." Your (e/c) eyes looked straight into his blue ones, silence reigned between you two before he hummed softly as if trying to deny "Why so?" It was as you suspected, he was blaming himself for making a simple mistake (-rolling girl vibes- sorry xd). You sighed resting your back on the headboard as your hand gently grabbed his forearm "You know it's not a bad thing to make mistakes, it's an everyday thing" "If we do become actual soldiers we'll risk our and the other's lifes everyday. This training is hard to make us strong, to make sure we don't make a single mistake that could lead to a tragedy" "You are not weak Armin." Your voice reasured in a firmer but gentle tone, he believed in what he had proof of, you would give him the proof he needed. Before he had the chance to turn on his side your hand grabbed his shoulder, making you two lock glances again, for your surprise small tears were forming on the corner of his eyes "I'm sorry.." "D-don't apologize it's okay! Come on let me help you what are you..?" He sat up shaking his head refusing to let a word out even when the tears slipped down his cheeks, it was painful to see Armin weep yet not ask for help, you've had been told he was like this since his childhood but it still was hard to believe and who knows if his overthinking made dealing with things on his own easier, he wouldn't try comforting himself. You sighed placing your hand on his shoulder and moving your thumb caressing the skin beneath his clothes, small muffled sobs could be heard coming from him "After that day on Shinganshina.. hundreds of people were sent there as if they were able to fight the titans, they didn't care if they were kids or elders- my grandfather went in my place, i know it wouldn't have made much of a difference but" He made a pause to try making his breathing go back to normal and hold back his tears, leaving just a small trace under his eyes "But he raised me, he gave me a name.. and i simply let him go straight to his death- i didn't make any effort to tell him i would go because i was scared.." You had to lean closer to listen clearly to what he was saying since he didn't want to drag anyone's attention besides yours "Sometimes i wonder what kind of things must have he felt when he realised he'd die alone..? I want to become a soldier to keep that from happening again, even though i'm just one it'd make a difference if only i.. wasn't such a weak coward" As he spoke you could almost feel the weight of his guilt resting on your shoulders for a moment, had he always been hiding in a shell? Ever since he was a child? A tear sprouted from the corner of your eye imagining how many times he suffered silently. You put your finger to your lower lip as you analyzed what your next move should be, after all it was Armin you were talking about, not all words would have effect on him "Strenght... physical strenght is not the only important thing, YES it is important in a soldier but the mind also matters! I can't lie, you get scared easily but so do i!. What about the snake from the other day? Someone had to remove it from your leg after you paralyzed but you were brave enough to not kick or scream in panic" Let's accept it you sucked at motivational speeches, your attempts usuallly ended up making him chuckle but it was some progress taking in mind you had no idea how to comfort him at the beggining. This time was no exception, he grew a tender smile but it faded away in matter of seconds "Come on Armin, you may be a little slim but what you don't have here-" Your hands abruptly dropped on his arms specifying you refered to muscles, then, your middle finger poked his forehead making him flinch "You have it here" "..What was that f-" He was cut off by your finger presisng against his lips "Shush- you are smart, incredibly smart you just have to see it! We all fall on our butts and feel scared of small things sometimes but that is what makes us humans, if we didn't feel fear or anything at all we'd be just like the titans!" You felt impressed of your own words, the look on his face made it clear he echoed the feeling. You wathed him move with his hands towards you before pulling you into one of the warmest hugs you've ever experienced; he held you so close and tightly you could feel his heart beating against you. "Thank you." His head rested on the crook of your neck, the gold strings of his beatiful hair falling over his face and tickling your nape slightly. You corresponded the gesture by eveloping him into your arms, slowly moving your palm up and down on his back "No problem....... Christa-"

Oof! That was long, congratulations if you read the whole thing!

#attack on titan #armin x reader #aot fanfiction #armin arlet x reader #armin arlert

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magic-and-moonlit-wings · 4 years

Text

Chapter 50: Insecurity Abounds

Becoming The Mask

Why wasn't it working?!

Jim ducked the fire jets and somersaulted out of their path.

The Forge floor tilted, sending him sliding back to where he’d started from. He braced his feet against the pop-up turret that spewed fire and launched himself up to grab the next turret, the one that shot darts. He used the higher turret to swing himself back to level ground. Jim blocked the darts that followed him with his sword.

Gunmar’s Eye hadn’t had any noticeable effect on the Amulet yet.

Jim wove through and around the pendulum axes.

When he’d put the Heartstone chip in the Amulet, he’d been able to summon a knife in minutes.

He threw several knives at a target and used his sword to cut another in half.

Of course, he’d been actively hoping for a knife when he’d cleaved that stone, and he didn’t have any solid idea what this new one was supposed to do.

Jim made it to the Soothscryer and inserted his hand.

The Forge’s mechanisms shut down. The past Trollhunters did not draw him into the Void to advise him on how to find out the properties of a newly cleaved stone.

“Okay, let’s break down the possibilities,” Jim said out loud, in case the Ghost Council decided to chime in after all. He paced around the Soothscryer. “It’s supposed to help defeat Gunmar. It’s an eye, so … insight to his strategies? Can I spy on him through it somehow?”

Except, hadn’t Vendel said there was a stone for that already? A glimpse into your enemy’s mind …

Well, a backup would be helpful to have if it turned out they did the same thing.

“Or is it like those old superstitions where you can use a piece of somebody to harm them remotely?”

Some human cultures advised caution in disposing of one’s shed hair and nail clippings for that reason. Jim didn’t know if any other trolls had analogous beliefs, but since stone flesh was literally magical it did come up among Changelings sometimes.

“Or like magnets. Can he not touch me if I armour up with the Eye in the Amulet? Not like I can test that, or like it’ll be any use in letting me kill him.” And the Triumbric Stones were supposed to be key to defeating Gunmar, not having a stalemate with Gunmar.

“Or is the legend just inaccurate?”

Not the most appealing thought, but now that it had occurred to him it would be stressing Jim out. What if they put all that time and energy into tracking down and cleaving the Triumbric Stones and they didn’t even turn out to do anything?

“Any time you guys wanna weigh in on this,” he hinted at the previous Trollhunters.

Jim sat on the Forge floor, leaned back against the Soothscryer, and closed his eyes. The Soothscryer dropped into the floor, sending Jim sprawling back with a yelp.

“… Very funny.”

“Jim?” AAARRRGGHH entered the Forge. His steps were slow at first, and then Jim heard him hurrying across the bridge. “Jim okay?”

“Yeah, just, aggravated.” He knocked on his breastplate beside the Amulet. “Stricklander got Gunmar’s Eye for me, and Vendel taught me how to cleave it, but I – I can’t figure out what it does. I thought it would – would make me stronger, or tougher, or give me a new weapon, but – nothing! I’ve been training for hours and, and I haven’t been able to do anything I couldn’t before, and apparently the Ghost Council wants me to figure this out on my own, so they’re no help.”

“AAARRRGGHH help,” said the bigger troll decisively. He picked up the human-shaped Changeling and plopped him on his shoulders. “Jim tired. Sore. Anger-vated. Hard to think. Need rest.”

And he started carrying Jim out of the Forge.

“… Where are we going?”

“Library. Quiet there.”

AAARRRGGHH was tall, and his fur was thick. Jim was mostly hidden by it. He wasn’t sure anyone noticed him as AAARRRGGHH walked through Trollmarket.

Why was AAARRRGGHH carrying him? Jim had been sure AAARRRGGHH no longer trusted him that much, but here he was, giving Jim easy access to his scruff, his neck, all the vulnerable spots on his back …

Inside the library, AAARRRGGHH did not shrug Jim off. He simply settled into his usual corner – a space relatively clear of shelves, so AAARRRGGHH wouldn’t block access to anything important if he dozed off – and opened one of the larger, less delicate books to where it was bookmarked.

“Rest,” he said. “Talk when ready.”

It was always sort of comical to see AAARRRGGHH reading. Even the tallest and widest volumes, books that the humans had to leave on tables and turn pages of both-handed, looked small in his hands.

Jim climbed further up AAARRRGGHH’s back to read over his shoulder. AAARRRGGHH noticed, and repositioned the book so they could both see it better.

It was one that Blinky had written. Possibly one he’d written for AAARRRGGHH, considering the dimensions. It was about Blinky’s observations of human culture. The current chapter was about different gardens Blinky had seen around human homes, identifying some plants that were beneficial or harmful to trolls, and speculating on the purpose of the others.

They read in silence for a while.

“It’s just,” said Jim, when they reached the end of the chapter, “I can’t afford to mess this up.”

AAARRRGGHH moved the flattened strip of braided leather to its new place and closed the book.

“I can’t take Gunmar in a straight fight, which leaves assassination. So if there’s a specific weapon I need to kill him for real, and nothing else is gonna work, then I have to know how to use it. And I have to get it right the first time, because I probably won’t get a second shot.”

And because, if Jim failed and Gunmar realized a Changeling was behind the assassination attempt, then all the other Changelings still trapped in the Darklands were as good as dead.

“And … and if I can’t unlock the first Triumbric Stone, what does that say about my chances with the other two? And what if I messed up cleaving the Eye, so now I can’t unlock that stone, and Gunmar’s gonna live forever and it’s my fault?”

“He won’t,” said AAARRRGGHH. “Wizards live long, age slow, but can die.”

“… I don’t suppose you know any weaknesses of his?”

“Hm … Not good at trusting, so won’t have guards to sleep.”

“Huh. You know, I honestly never realized he slept? Like, logically he has to, but I’d never thought about it. I’ve only ever seen him on his throne or leading hunting parties. If the stones really do give me a new weapon, that would probably be my best shot at him.” Jim sighed and sagged. “If.”

“Maybe stones only work with all three,” AAARRRGGHH suggested.

“That could be it. I hope so.” Jim drummed his fingers against the Amulet. “I’m going to take the Eye out and train some more without it. Just in case it’s messing with my head. Would you hold onto it for me?”

“I help.” AAARRRGGHH shrugged. Jim nearly fell off his shoulder. “But Eye very small. Might leave with Blinky instead.”

“Where is Blinky, anyway?”

“Doing errands,” said AAARRRGGHH in trollish. “Haggling takes time.”

+=+

Tobias Domzalski, ‘Toby’, age 16, sophomore student at Arcadia Oaks Public High School. Orphaned age two, raised by paternal grandmother Nancy.

Closest friend, boy from across the street, Jim Lake; no close friends besides that, though occasional mentions of friendly acquaintanceship with classmate Eli Pepperjack.

Fond of geology, video games, stage magic. Natural predisposition to showmanship.

Family history of clinical depression. Personal history of emotional eating, being mocked by peers for braces and weight. Probable fear of rejection/abandonment.

Next appointment rescheduled to earlier date for unclarified reasons, severe enough for guardian to call in at 5:30 in the morning but not severe enough for guardian to feel immediate emergency response was needed.

“Good afternoon, Toby. Come on in.”

“Hi, Doctor A.”

He wandered over to the window first. There was a tree between the building and the parking lot. She wasn’t sure which, if either, he looked at. He sat in the squashy armchair.

Dr Tiffany Archenn had three chairs in her office besides her desk chair, with various degrees of softness. There was a well-stuffed armchair that the sitter noticeably sank into, a stiffer but still upholstered one, and a sturdy wooden armchair that patients with joint problems invariably chose because it was the easiest to get up from.

“Anything in particular you’d like to start with today?” she asked, in her cultivated gentle tone.

“Well, I’ve made some new friends.” He smiled, showing a glint of metal. “Some girls from school decided to start hanging out with me and Jimbo. One of them, Claire, had a crush on him at first, but they kept having lunch with us after he turned her down. They’re a lot of fun.”

Tiffany nodded. After centuries of practice, writing notes was like knitting for her; she no longer needed to look at what she was doing, though sometimes she did anyway if a patient was bothered by prolonged eye contact.

“What sorts of things have you been doing together?”

“Well, lunch, like I said, and Darci and I have been playing Mobile Go-Go Sushi. Sometimes we all go out and explore – uh, the trails around town, or the museum, or, like, little stores we’ve never been in before. And we’ve been … LARPing. That’s ‘live-action role play’.”

She knew that already, but she just nodded.

“It’s a fantasy game. Jim’s the most into it. He was actually doing it solo for a while before we found out, but now we’re all involved.”

‘Before we found out’. Not ‘before he told us’ or ‘invited us’. Now that was interesting.

How was Toby handling his closest friend having done something alone instead of sharing it with him, until Toby and the new additions to their social circle became involved all at once? How was he handling suddenly having to share his friend?

“Are you enjoying this game?” she asked leadingly.

“… Mostly. It can get pretty intense sometimes.”

“How do you mean?”

Toby twisted his hands in his lap. There were some fidgets on the windowsill and the side of the desk her patients sat on, but he didn’t use them often anymore.

“A couple weeks ago, we had a school play,” he said. “Claire and Mary were in it. Claire’s character died. Seeing that was like – like the stakes of, of the game, just got real. I had a nightmare that she died for real. It shook me up a lot. That’s when Nana called you.”

“I can see why that would be distressing.”

Emotional conflation was different from delusion, so this was probably not a sign that Toby was beginning to struggle with telling fiction from reality. Fearing for a friend’s wellbeing in a play or game and having that spill over into genuine concern for that friend’s safety was more likely related to Toby’s fear of abandonment.

She was surprised the fear was centred around one of the new friends rather than around his friend of longest standing, but it sounded like the death scene in the play had been the tipping point.

“Has this changed how you’ve been acting in your game?” Dr Archenn asked. “Or how you’ve interacted with your friends in general?”

“I’ve been more careful. Taken my training more seriously. I switched weapons – picked one I could actually use now instead of just the one I thought was coolest.”

“Has that helped?”

“A little.”

“Would you prefer a different game?”

“I couldn’t!” He shook his head. “Jimbo’s gonna do this with or without us – I can’t just leave him.”

Okay, now Tiffany was wondering if ‘LARPing’ was really a cover for some illegal activity these kids had stumbled into. Stupid Walter, leaving town right before she needed intel on some of his students.

“You don’t feel able to change overall aspects of this … game, only how you play?”

“… Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.”

“And you’re confident that your friends wouldn’t” – or can’t – “drop it to play something else?”

“Jim’s committed.” Tobias’ eyes widened at his own words. “I mean, he’s like, really emotionally invested in this fantasy world, you know? He’d feel really bad about giving it up. I can’t ask him to do that.”

Okay, so clearly Tobias’ friend Jim was the key to all of this. Considering the boys had been each other’s only friend for ten years, it was unlikely Tobias would be easily convinced to let go to save himself. He’d said twice in five minutes that he could not abandon Jim to whatever they were really doing, nor extract Jim from it.

She might be reading too much into this, Tiffany reminded herself. Toby might be being entirely literal, especially since he’d already volunteered so much information with so little prompting.

“Tell me some more about this game you’ve been playing.”

“Uh … well … it kind of started as Jim trying to write a fantasy novel, I think. He’s, like, this destined hero, a magical knight chosen to defeat an evil troll king. The rest of us are, um, fellow questers who’ve joined up with him. He wants to protect us by fighting alone, but …” he trailed off.

But you don’t want to be left behind by being cut out of something your friend is investing time in? Tiffany did not suggest. It would distort the accuracy of her analysis if she put words in her patient’s mouth.

“But none of us want to give it up,” Toby settled on.

He didn’t say more. Maybe the tension between Jim and Toby was because Jim had wanted to write this story alone and resented his friends inserting themselves into the narrative? Tiffany set out another prompt.

“You mentioned you chose a new weapon recently. Do you all have weapons?”

“Yeah. I’ve got a warhammer. I had one to start with, I just, switched to a lighter one. Because, um, my character stats meant I couldn’t lift the first one yet. Jim and Mary both have swords, Claire’s got a spear, Darci has a crossbow.”

“No spellcasters in your party?”

Toby laughed nervously. “Sometimes there’s magic artifacts, but, no, no spellcasters.”

+=+

Claire got her bleach and developer out of the cupboard, adding them to the rest of her materials.

“Whatcha doin’?” Not Enrique asked her.

“Seriously? Do you have no concept of privacy? I’m in the bathroom right now!”

“You didn’t shut the door.” He tapped the join between the hardwood floor he was standing on and the bathroom tiles.

Okay, fair point, not that she’d being saying so to him.

“I’m touching up my roots.”

“I got no idea what that means.” He stood up on his back legs (or just ‘legs’? He went on all fours most of the time, like AAARRRGGHH, but most trolls Claire had seen were bipeds) and squinted past her. “You got a plant in there?”

“No, I mean my hair.” She crouched on the floor and tugged her blue streak. “It’s growing out, so I have to dye the parts that don’t have colour yet.”

Not Enrique just blinked at her. “You … kill your hair to change its colour? But, Ma and Pa take me with ’em to the hairdressers sometimes, and none of the stuff on the floor turns different colours.”

Claire grit her teeth at hearing him refer to her and Enrique’s parents like they were his too.

“It’s not that kind of dye. Dee-why-ee, not dee-eye-ee. It’s like a paint.” She sighed. “Look, I’ll show you.”

She pulled on her rubber gloves and separated her dyed streak from the rest of her hair with foil.

“I’m just bleaching it today. I have to do that a couple of days in a row, because it takes a while to get it light enough for the colour to show up.”

She mixed the bleach with the developer, which helped bleach to penetrate hair, and some red-gold corrector, which made it more effective on dark hair. Claire carefully painted the goop into her hair.

“In about half an hour, I’ll wash this off, and the hair it was in will be lighter brown instead of black.”

“Wild.”

“So, what, did you think some of my hair was just naturally blue?”

“Yeah? I’ve seen lots of humans around with more than one hair colour.”

“… Fair point,” she admitted. Between the people with hair streaks like her, and anyone starting to go grey, and people with fully-dyed hair whose roots were showing, not to mention how technicolour troll hair could be, he’d have no reason to suspect some human hair colours or patterns were unnatural.

Claire folded the foil around her hair and carefully clipped it so it wouldn’t slip off. She wiped out the bowl she’d mixed the bleach in using paper towels and wrapped them in a bag to throw in the trash, rather than dumping bleach down the drain. It wasn’t good for the local water table. Claire took off her gloves and tidied everything else away. She set her phone timer so she wouldn’t damage her hair by leaving the bleach in for too long.

“What was that you were saying earlier?” asked Not Enrique. “Bout the different kinds of die. Dee-why-dee-eye?”

“They’re spelled differently,” said Claire. “So if you see it written down, you can tell which kind somebody means. It’s called a homophone when a word’s like that,” she remembered from an elementary school grammar class on the different kinds of words.

Claire left the bathroom. “Come on.” She went to their – her – mother’s home office, and took a sheet of paper and a pen. She wrote ‘die’ and ‘dye’ on the paper and handed it to Not Enrique, who held the page upside down. “Other way up. See the difference?”

He flipped the page. “Which one’s for hair and which is for killing?”

“D-Y-E is for recolouring stuff. It’s not just hair, you can do with cloth too.”

He pointed at the correct word. “That one’s the Y? Like in the alphabet videos.”

“Yeah. You know what?” Claire decided. “I’m gonna teach you to read. I know, I know, you’re picking it up,” seeing his insulted look, “but you’ll learn faster with a teacher.”

“You just wanna use me to spell-check the trollish homework Blinkous gives you.”

“Like you’d be useful for that when I’m the one teaching you.”

+=+

Previous Chapter (Jim gets and cleaves the Eye of Gunmar)

Table of Contents

Next Chapter (Visiting the Quagawumps to ask for the Killstone)

I learned how to dye hair streaks for this chapter! I’ve been thinking about doing them in my hair for a long time but never bothered because my hair’s really dark brown and all the bleaching sounded like a nuisance. Now that I’ve looked into how it’s done, it still sounds like a nuisance, but I might try it.

Dr Archenn does not suspect Toby knows about real trolls yet, because ‘fighting an evil troll’ is pretty standard fantasy fodder. Even if he’d mentioned Jim being ‘the Trollhunter’, that sounds like a generic term, so she wouldn’t get truly suspicious without further evidence. If he’d mentioned Gunmar by name, on the other hand, that would have been enough for her to call in some favours and put this kid under surveillance.

So, how about Wizards, huh? Deya’s portrayal gave me a bunch of ideas for her portrayal in this fic! Since I am not going with the idea of her being the first Trollhunter, I’ve also developed a whole bunch of backstory that will be revealed later about the Trollhunter job’s origins in this timeline. I’ll be sticking with some plans I already had as to the timing and motives of Morgana inventing Changelings.

#Trollhunters #Tales of Arcadia #Becoming The Mask chapters #Changeling Jim #Amulet of Daylight #AAARRRGGHH #rocks minerals crystals and gemstones #Tobias Domzalski #Changelings #original character #role-playing game #lies #Claire Nuñez #Not Enrique #Hair #colours #My Fanfiction #Monday is fanfic day!

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mistersshelby · 5 years

Text

the woman assassin | part two

part one | part two

hi!! thank you for reading part one, i hope you enjoy part two!! pls send me any feedback good or bad i like hearing from you! idk when part three will be up bc i’m kinda just fucking around with this but stay tunedddd. -S.

When they walk into his house, she tries to keep the look of awe off her face, taking in how large and grand his home is. She knew he was well off, everyone in Birmingham and even outside knew of the Shelbys… But this?

A little boy turns a corner and starts running straight towards Tommy, yelling “Daddy!” over and over and for the first time Clara sees a smile stretch across Tommy’s face. He’s quite beautiful when he smiles.

Seconds after Tommy scoops the boy in his arms, a nanny rounds the corner with a baby girl in her arms who also reaches her outstretched hands towards Tommy. Clara has difficulty swallowing her jealousy as she watches him with his children, a hand reflexively coming to her now empty belly.

“Daddy, who’s that?” The boy asks as he looks over Tommy’s shoulder.

“Charles, Ruby, this is Miss Clara, she’ll be staying with us for a bit.” Tommy says, suddenly remembering Clara’s behind him. She warmly smiles and waves at them both.

Tommy, becoming serious again, hands the children back off to their nanny and waits until they’re out of the room to turn to Clara, “You are never to be alone with them, do you understand?”

Clara stares at him, “Mister Shelby, I would never harm a child.” Tears burn at the back of her eyes as she thinks of her own child, killed before ever having the chance to live.

“I have no reason to believe that and I’ve put my children in danger with my work before. I won’t again and it’s not up for discussion.”

“When will I be here that you wouldn’t be?”

“Tomorrow when I go to discuss the conditions of our agreement with my family.”

“Shouldn’t I be there for that?”

“No. I will speak to you about it once the conditions have been set.”

She snorts, “Well that sounds very inclusive, thanks.”

Tommy stares at her before slipping his hand into his pocket and pulling out his cigarettes and lighting one, neglecting to offer one to Clara, “Mrs. Whitmore, you’ll do well to remember that I’m bringing you into my home generously when I could offer you up to the police who are very good friends of mine, probably for a hefty reward. I know you killed your husband and I know you’ve lied to me about your name and it would not take me long at all to discover what man you actually killed whose name is not Whitmore.”

Clara’s skin has paled significantly, but she doesn’t falter, “Are you threatening me?”

“I’m simply giving you a choice, Mrs. Whitmore. Either you do this my way and politely thank me for my hospitality or I go to the police, do I make myself clear?”

She glares at him, “Crystal, Mister Shelby.”

“Good,” He puts out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray, “I’ll show you to the guest room then.”

***

Clara has been staring at the ceiling of her temporary room for a while now, trying and failing not to think of her past, but with nothing else to do while Tommy’s away, traumatic memories play one after the other like a series of Hollywood films. Except there’s no happy ending.

She was almost drifting off to sleep when there was a loud bang from downstairs. Thinking it sounded like a gunshot, she shot up from bed and ran to the window. She didn’t see anyone outside, but there was another gunshot and now crying from the children Tommy had left in the house.

She ran to the door of her bedroom, but it was locked from the outside. Swearing, she picked up a heavy metal vase and swung it at the doorknob until it broke and she could swing the door open. There were a couple more gunshots that sounded like they were coming from downstairs. She quickly glanced around the room for something she could use as a weapon and quickly grabbed the fire poker before heading in the direction of the children’s cries.

There was a lot of silence as she traveled to the children’s room and she wondered if she had imagined the whole thing. But the children were still crying, that much was true. Just as she was getting ready to put her guard down, bullets began penetrating the floor beneath her. One grazed her shoe and she tried to dampen the panic that threatened to suffocate her. The children were still crying which meant they were still alive, maybe injured. Where was the damn nanny?

When she went into the children’s room, the nanny was nowhere to be found. Just little Charles cradling Ruby to his chest in an attempt to calm her though his own face was stained with tears.

“Come, little one. I’m gonna get you both out of here.” Clara coaxed with her hand.

“Where’s daddy?” He asked miserably.

“He’ll be back soon.” She promised, “I’ll take you to him.”

“I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere, little lady.” A burly voice said behind her. Clara reacted immediately, spinning and swinging the fire poker blindly. The quickness of her attack knocked her assailant off guard and off balance which gave her time to knock the gun out of his hand. She kicked him to the floor for good measure before scooping up the gun and pointing it at his head. She could hear Charles whimpering quietly behind her as Ruby wailed.

“I don’t want to blow your brains off in front of the children,” Clara cocked the gun, “But I will if I have to. You have five seconds to get out of my sight.”

The man had his hands up and seemed to be shaking with fear, “Please��“

“One—“

“I— I have a family.”

“Then you better start running home to them, two.” He scrambled to his feet, stumbling. “Three.” He looks over his shoulder at her still raised gun as he stumbles away, “Four.” The man practically falls down the stairs and Clara sighs, this is absolutely pathetic. “Five.” She hears the door downstairs swing open and shut. Walking over to the window of the children’s room, she sees him running away from the house, looking over his shoulder every now and then to see if she’s followed. She uncocks the gun and sticks it in her boot before turning to the children. “Come now, let’s go find your father.”

“We don’t know you. Daddy said not to go anywhere with strangers.”

Clara smiled and kneeled down so that she was eye level with the boy, “That’s very smart of your Daddy, you can’t trust anyone these days. But do you think your Daddy would let a stranger stay in your home? I’m no stranger, love. Promise. Wouldn’t dream of hurting you. I just want to take you to your Dad, okay?”

Charles seems to consider this for a moment, looking from Ruby to Clara a few times before nodding. “Splendid. Let’s go get a car.”

“You know how to drive? I didn’t know women could drive.” Charles says in wonder.

Clara chuckles, “Women can do anything a man can, sometimes we do it even better than them.”

***

When they pull up to Shelby Company Limited, Charles immediately jumps out with Ruby in his arms and inside. Clara takes a moment to pull herself together before entering after him.

“—Miss Clara saved us though, knocked the bastard on his arse and then chased him out with his own gun. Then she brought us here.”

“Did she now?” Tommy spoke, smiling casually at his son while everyone else looked to be in shock. Ruby was being held by a woman Clara assumed to be Lizzie. “I see you passed my test.”

Clara blinked at him, “Your what?”

“That man. I sent him there. Wanted to see if you’d save your own arse or if you’d rescue my children. If you’re a peaky blinder now, I need to know that you’re not a coward and you’d be willing to stick your neck out for the rest of the pack.”

“You put your children in danger to test me?” Clara was seething now. Lizzie didn’t look too pleased either, but apparently knew enough to stay quiet.

“They were never in any danger. But, you? I told the man to kill you if you didn’t protect the children.”

Clara scoffed, “That pathetic excuse of a man? He couldn’t have killed me if my hands were tied behind my back. And you’re insane for ever risking your children’s lives like that. The irresponsibility, the selfishness. I would do anything to have children as beautiful as yours,” She blinks away the tears in her eyes, “But you would rather use yours as pawns in whatever game you think you’re playing. You’re a disgrace.” Clara spits before storming out.

It’s a few moments and some angry swipes at her tears later before she hears someone follow her, “I don’t want to be a fuckin’ Peaky Blinder anymore, you can call the police on me, I won’t take part in endangerment of children.”

“I already told you they weren’t in any danger.”

She rounded on him, “You don’t know that! You don’t know what that man would’ve done when you weren’t there! He could’ve missed! He was shooting through the floors from downstairs, did you tell him to do that?”

Tommy swallowed, “You’re right. I made a mistake.”

“You—“ Clara stopped, “What?”

“You’re right,” Tommy leans against a wall and pulls out his cigarettes, offering them to Clara, “I’m selfish. I love my children, but… I don’t think things through all the time. Need someone to keep me in line.”

Clara slowly takes a smoke from him before he snaps his case shut, “Isn’t that what your wife is for?”

He shakes his head, “Lizzie isn’t my wife.”

She frowns, “But… your wedding ring?”

“My wife died. Grace. It was my fault. I was always putting her in danger, too.”

Clara took a long drag, “I’m sorry.”

Tommy nodded in acknowledgement, “I’m sorry about your child.”

Clara froze, “What are you talking about?”

“It’s quite obvious with the way you talk about children. Is that why you killed your husband? Did he kill your child?”

She drops her cigarette to the ground and stomps it out, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He shrugs, “Okay, I’ll find out eventually. Would you come back to the house now so we can discuss the conditions of your employment?”

“I just told you I don’t want to be a Peaky Blinder.”

“And I just told you that I need someone to keep me in line.”

“It looks like you have a bunch of people to do that for you.”

He shakes his head, “These people, I love them, but… I don’t listen to them. They don’t know what they’re doing. I built this company from the ground. They just came along for the ride. Why should they know better than me?”

“But you think I would know better than you? I don’t know anything about business or a company.”

“No, you don’t. But you’re not selfish. You seem to care about people, maybe too much. I just need someone to tell me when I’m unnecessarily hurting others.”

“Those are some big assumptions to make about someone you just met and volunteered to murder a man almost immediately upon meeting you.”

He shrugs, “You volunteered to murder a bad man. You saved my children. Seems pretty fair to me. You’re also the only woman I know who could beat me in a fight which means you could physically keep me in check.”

“You think I could beat you in a fight?” Clara asked, eyebrows raised.

He puts out his cigarette, “I don’t really want to find out, but yes, I do believe you could. Will you please come with me back to my house so we can discuss your employment?” He repeated again.

Clara sighed, “Fine.” Tommy pushed himself off the wall and guided her to his car, opening the passenger seat for her, “What about the children?”

Tommy shut the door behind her, “Lizzie has them.”

“You seem to trust her an awful lot and she’s the mother of your child, but you don’t marry her. Why?”

He starts the car, “Why did you kill your husband, Clara?” She swallows and stays silent as he pulls away from the building, “That’s what I thought.”

“Can I have my knife back now?” She asks absently when the car ride became too silent.

“It’s locked up in my bedroom. I’ll get it for you later.”

“Will I still be staying in your house?”

He nods, “Until you kill Sabini, then we’ll figure out somewhere else for you to stay.”

“Does Lizzie live with you?”

He shakes his head, “What is your fascination with Lizzie?”

“Just trying to figure out your relationship. I’m curious to see who the infamous Thomas Shelby spends his time with.”

He pulls up to his enormous mansion and it once again takes Clara’s breath away, “Lizzie and I fuck occasionally and it’s nothing more than that. She happened to give me a child who I’m very grateful for and so I take care of her. I give her a job, I give her a home, I give her protection. That’s all. Satisfied?”

Clara shrugs, “Yeah, sure.”

Tommy comes around to open the door for her and they go inside, Clara following Tommy into his office. “Alright, the terms of your employment are fairly simple. You fight or dispatch anyone I order you to. You protect anyone I order you to. If you have reason to not want to dispatch the target I give, I’m willing to hear, but you’ll have to be very convincing. If at any point you refuse to dispatch a target and we cannot come to an agreement, I am free to terminate your employment. Understand?”

“What do I get in return?”

“I won’t turn you into the police for the murder of your husband, in fact I will order the police to stop searching for your husband’s murderer as soon as you give me a name. You’ll have a place to live and anything else you may need and you’ll be paid more than fairly every time you do a job for me.” He pushes a piece of paper towards her, “Here’s the written contract, I paraphrased everything, but it’s all there. You’re welcome to read it over before you sign, I want it on my desk by tomorrow morning. If you decide not to sign, you’re free to leave.”

“And you’ll tell the cops about me?”

He shrugs, “Haven’t decided.”

Clara bites her lip, “As a peaky blinder do I get to come to the meetings? Have a say in them?”

“No. Those are family only.”

“That doesn’t really seem fair. How am I supposed to keep you in line if I’m not at the meetings?”

Tommy eyes her carefully for a few moments before sighing and taking back the contract. He scribbles something quickly at the bottom and hands it back to her.

“‘Allowed at all meetings for Shelby Company Limited, but only allowed to speak to question Thomas Shelby’s moral decisions.’” She reads and then looks back to Tommy. He doesn’t so much as arch an eyebrow. Clara sighs, “Fine, good enough I guess.”

“This is a very generous offer.” Tommy said, sounding a bit tiffed that she wasn’t being grateful.

Clara’s pen glides quickly across the bottom of the page, she omits her last name, “Yeah, thanks.” It doesn’t sound genuine.

“I’m gonna need that name, to tell the police.”

“That’s okay, if they take me you can just come bail me out.” Clara smirked and walked out of the room.

“It won’t be hard for me to go to the police and ask them about the man who was murdered whose wife disappeared after.” He called after her.

“Then what are you waiting for, Mister Shelby?”

He stared after her shaking his head and, despite himself, he smirked.

***

okay so i’m gonna tag anyone who replied or reblogged the first post, if you want your name removed pls let me know (:

@mariamermaid @gingertaurus @tommy-scum @lil-black-heart

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby fluff #tommy shelby angst #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fic #tommy shelby fic #mine

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jimlingss · 5 years

Text

Jungle Park [9]

Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10

➜ Words: 4.2k

➜ Genres: Fluff, Light Humour (?), Slice of Life, Workplace Romance!AU

➜ Summary: The equation is simple. Hoseok needs to hire someone. You need a job. Except like any actual equation, it’s not fucking simple at all! Not when you have to add the fact that he was forced to hire someone he doesn’t want in his office, he has little respect for your job in general, and oh yeah...once upon a time you might have—*CENSORED*.

It’s a crime scene. There are no traces of blood, no signs of a break in, of thrown furniture or a deadly weapon next to a corpse. It’s much simpler and devastating than that. The lights are still on, shoes neatly put at the front door. There’s a white envelope on the small kitchen counter. It’s been ripped open with evidence of haste and panic. There are copper and silver keys that have fallen onto the tile floor, bag dropped beside it. And in your hand is a single piece of paper, the biggest crime of all. One would take a look at the rent in your hand and find it ‘fucking astronomical’. It’s an abomination. And when you come to your senses, you discover yourself furiously knocking on the door of the perpetrator at ten at night. The old woman swings the door open and it crashes against her pristine white wall. She’s clad in pajamas and a black robe, tea mug in her hand as she glares at you. “Do you know what time it is?!” “I’m sorry.” The apology comes out automatically and you damn yourself. No, you’re not sorry. But instead of retracting, you simply lift up the bill and get to the reason why you’re here bare feet, standing in front of her door. “Can you please explain this to me? I’m confused.” “What’s there to be confused about?” “It’s almost double from last time.” You’re trying to calm down, but you’re still in hysterics, caught in between and you feel yourself going insane. Part of what you’re saying is shouted in anger and other parts you’re whispering in meekness. Your landlady looks at you like you’re a bizarre, yet sad clown. “It spiked like a lot.” “I sent a notice to everyone in the complex,” she tells you impassively. “I didn’t get one,” you attempt to reason with her and let the landlady see your perspective. But it’s futile and you’re only becoming increasingly frustrated. “Well—” She takes a sip of her tea. “—I did send you one.” “You can’t just change the lease agreement halfway through.” You’re on the verge of tears and you’re not sure you can make it through without breaking down like a pathetic fool. “That-...that’s illegal!” “If you don’t like it, then you can find some place else,” she says with composure, fully knowing that it’ll affect you more than her. “I’m more than happy to let you break the lease. I’ll find another tenant.” She knows and you know — you’re unable to leave this place. Not when it was one of the few locations that was close to work and anywhere near the city at this price range. You can’t afford to pack up your bags and go somewhere else. So you’re left defeated and pleading, as if the last whimper of your voice can convince her otherwise, “you can’t just increase the rent halfway through the lease.” “I understand that,” she enunciates and punctures every syllable with a sharp tongue, tired of having to constantly repeat herself. “But I don’t think you understand how expensive taxes, insurance, and energy costs are getting. At this rate, I’ll be in debt, Y/N.” When you drag your feet back home, you sit down and work to figure things out. It’s entirely possible to get a rebate for your rent. You would have to go to a legal clinic and speak to someone, which works out perfectly since you work for a law firm. You have friends that are lawyers, Sunyi or Taehyung or Yoongi, the list is endless. Maybe they’re not knowledgeable in this specific kind of issue, but nonetheless in the general area and they could always recommend you to someone good. There’s also a chance that you would go to the tenant board and plead your case. But the problem you have are with the possible outcomes:

You will have no choice but to move out, even after getting the rebate.

There are changes in the property ownership. The landlady will lose the apartment complex. But as much as you think this ordeal is unfair, you’re not spiteful enough to make her lose her livelihood.

Best case scenario: the rent is forced to return to normal and the landlady keeps her property and you get to stay. But then she would have it out for you and you’re not sure you can handle such tense living conditions.

It feels like you’re being shoved in a corner. Part of you wishes you didn’t care about the landlady’s well being and you would go through with one of the options and bring justice to your own life. But you can’t do it. Either way, guilt would gnaw at you like mites eating at your skin. Someone once told you that you care too much for people when you shouldn’t. He’s right. With a sigh, you think of only two things. It’s the only way you can afford to pay your bills and sustain your life — ask for a raise and take on more shifts. “Where are we off to this evening?” You shuffle back into the driver’s seat after guiding the passenger into the back seat and greeting them. The female passenger mumbles a destination and you pull away from the curb, knowing what streets and turns to take. One after another. You take young and old to the airport, to their homes, to clubs or late-night events, anyone and everywhere in between. Every night without break, you drive and cut down your sleeping time by doubling your caffeine intake. It’s unhealthy, but you’re still waiting for the right time to ask for a raise from both Jimin and Hoseok. Every time you linger outside their office, they end up exiting themselves and telling you to talk later since they have somewhere to be. It seems like timing has always been your worst enemy. “Where are we off to?” The man in the backseat of the taxi glances behind him and then out the window before meeting your eyes in the rear-view mirror. His pupils flicker back and forth, shaking, and as strange as he is, you most definitely would’ve never guessed what his destination is— “the border.” “Pardon?” You twist your body fully around, afraid that your ears are finally failing you. But the man repeats himself. “The border, please.” “That’s a four-hour ride,” you explain to him, unable to believe what he’s saying. Four hours to and from is eight hours in total. You’d be driving out of the city, far into the deserted countryside and you would have to go straight to work afterwards. It’s not like you can afford to call in for an unpaid sick-day. Though you have one bigger worry. “This...this isn’t illegal, right? Because I’ve had my fair share of driving people to illegal activities and I’m not doing that again.” “No! No,” he spits out hastily and looks behind him again before whirling around. He’s sweating and you’re beginning to as well. The black backpack beside him is suspicious and you pray he doesn’t have any kind of weapon. “Just please bring me to the border. I promise it’s nothing bad and you won’t be harmed. I...I can give you an additional four hundred dollars.” Four hundred tip? The debate fires in your head and sadly, it doesn’t last long for you to make a decision. “I hope you’re ready to pay up when the time comes.” You signal and pull away from the curb, destination already in the navigation system. From the rear-view mirror, the stranger gives you a big smile with swelling cheeks. The trip is long and tedious. When it’s empty highways and one straight road, it’s easy to get lost in thoughts or to become sleepy. But you have strategies of keeping yourself awake, like downing the cup of coffee you always have in your thermostat mug or quietly humming a song or trying to keep from blinking for a long time. It helps that the stranger in the backseat of the car starts up a conversation too. He’s just been looking out the window, resting in the seat and you guess he might be too anxious to take a short nap. “You’re not a fugitive, are you?” “No.” He laughs and reassures you, “I’m not. The reason I’m going to the border...it’s a secret.” You hum, knowing better than prying into people’s activities. When people are willing to tell you, then you’re happy to hear. When they’re not, the last thing you want is for them to pull you out the vehicle and point a gun at your head and tell you that it’s a shame you know too much now. Maybe you just watch too many action movies. Though for some reason, your intuition tells you the stranger in the backseat is more friendly and doesn’t mind you chatting and asking. “I just would like to know what the crimes of my passenger is if I happened to be arrested on those charges as well.” He chuckles. “Then you’ll find out when you get arrested.” “Ooh, keeping it a surprise.” You glance into the rear-view. “I like it.” “You’re a funny one,” he muses. “Got any boyfriend or husband or wife?” “If you’re asking for yourself then I gotta say sorry.” You smile. “I’ve taken a celibacy oath for the rest of my life.” “What a shame.” He laughs again. “Do you always drive? I should make you my permanent taxi driver.” “If you’re always going to pay me a four hundred tip, you got it. But unfortunately, this is only my night job, so only if you have any rendezvous after five.” He leans his head on the cool glass, watching the headlights from the opposite highway road and the lights of the truck up ahead. “What’s your day job?” “It’s a secret.” You don’t want to say in case you get found and killed. Safety was regarded above all. “You’ll find out when I get arrested and we share the same cell.” “Okay, fair enough.” He grins. “That’s tough though. A day and night job? How do you find the time to sleep?” “You don’t.” Another symphony of internal sighs ring inside your head and you decide that you might as well ramble your infinite problems to a stranger since it’s not like you had anyone else to talk to. “I wouldn’t have to do this if my landlady didn’t suddenly spike up my rent like crazy.” “Does your day job not pay enough?” He asks not to invade your privacy, but out of genuine curiosity. “...It pays well,” you reply. “Just not enough.” He makes a sound of understanding and the conversations dim down for the next ten minutes. There’s more small talk made, but nothing significant. You learn he’s not a dangerous criminal (for now) so it puts you at ease. And when the border comes into sight, he asks to be let off before you can drive up to the booth. He expresses his gratitude for driving him this far out and follows through with his tip, giving you the right amount of a carefully counted stack of bills from his backpack. You don’t ask him any questions, only bidding him good luck on whatever journey he’s on and he smiles, hoping that you have a safe drive back. You hope for the same thing. // The drive back is exhausting and endless. By the time you’ve arrived back home, your butt is aching, your eyes are burning, and your back is sore. You can’t believe you’ve been driving for a straight eight hours, but your full pocket of cash thanks you for your effort, even if you have to lug your legs inside. The sad part is that you can’t even roll on your comfortable mattress and get some shut-eye. Time is ticking and you rip yourself away from the bedroom into the bathroom to get ready for your day job. And you try your hardest, even when you’ve been awake for more than twenty-four hours. You slap water onto your face before dousing your poor skin in thick makeup to hide the purple eye bags. Then you force breakfast down your throat while changing clothes before you’re out the door again. You try your hardest — not to fall asleep while you’re on the platform, waiting for the subway. You try your hardest — to keep from stumbling when you’re standing in the crowded cart like you’re in a can of sardines, forced to hold onto one of the hanging straps. You try your hardest — running through puddles in heels, sweat clinging onto your dirty body, late again. “Is she not with you?” Hoseok stops by Jimin’s office, glancing at his watch quickly before looking up towards the main foyer. His frustration and impatience increase, causing a frown to permanently attach on his face, giving the male wrinkles in places that shouldn’t belong there before he’s turned forty. “Y/N?” Jimin sips on his coffee, surprised at the sudden question. “No. Do you need her?” “I don’t,” he huffs out. “But haven’t you noticed that she’s been arriving late to work every day this week?” Jimin hums a light note before he looks off and muses, “No, actually. I didn’t notice.” “We don’t pay our employees to arrive late and slack off.” “Y/N doesn’t slack off.” “But her tardiness shows a bad work ethic.” Speaking of the devil, Hoseok detects a figure jogging from the corner of his eye. He turns and you’re there, chest rising and falling, hyperventilating, a strand of hair fallen in the front of your face. At the same time as Hoseok outright gawks at you, you’re cringing, having hoped you could’ve slipped past. But now that he’s in front of you, there’s no choice but to dip your head slightly and divert your eyes. “Good...good morning.” You’re about to be on your way, but his smooth voice stops you. “Can we speak in my office?” “O-of course.” The atmosphere is tense. All signs of the happy-go-lucky man that you’re the most familiar with is absent and a stern leader is in his place instead, controlling the air around you and making you shift on your feet. He sits in his chair and glares. Sometimes it gives you whiplash how different Hoseok can be, how many sides he has, from being a ball of sunshine that wouldn’t hurt a fly to having a serious and rigid demeanour. He wears an impassive expression while looking at you, and remains stern. You guess that this is what it means to be professional and deep down, you know he has a hard time conducting himself like this, but he does such a good job. He’s a natural. It’s intimidating. “Sit down,” he says and you follow his orders. You’re tense, hands in your lap, and he clears his throat, making you finally meet his eyes again. “You’ve been late every morning.” “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” There’s a beat of silence, like he’s giving you a chance to explain yourself. But when you don’t, he’s forced to continue, “is there a reason...?” His voice trails off, becoming softer and he searches your expression for some sort of answer. “No,” you lie. “There isn’t. I’m sorry.” His frown returns and it’s deeper than before. “This is not your usual behaviour. There has to be a reason, Y/N. Tell me.” It’s not a demand, sort of gentle and deprived out of concern. You wonder what he would say if he knew you were having financial problems, if he would help you sort it out, or maybe give you that raise that you’ve been meaning to ask for a long time now. If you told him that you held two jobs on top of each other, there’s a chance he would be sympathetic. He could help you out, pardon your mistakes and your late mornings. But— But...there’s no reason for him to know. He’s your boss. Is there really any sense in telling him what’s going on in your personal life? Hoseok is your boss. Nothing more. Nothing less. Maybe you’ve been forgetting this. Maybe you’ve been too reckless lately. But you need to keep it this way. If not for his sake, then yours. “There’s no reason,” you repeat yourself, keeping the barrier up, not allowing him in. “I’m sorry.” There’s a long held silence. “You won’t tell me?” he asks you, aware of the lies that you feed him and the disappointment is all too evident in his voice and written across his features. You look away with a thick lump forming in your throat. “There’s isn’t anything to tell. I’m sorry.” If you want a raise, you’ll receive it by your own merit, not through pity. Jung Hoseok leans back in his seat, accepting that you won’t give him a truthful answer. He gave you a chance and won’t force it out of you. “I expect everyone to be here at nine.” He shuffles a few papers, having written down details as evidence. “But you’ve been here half an hour to an hour later consistently for the past week. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and today. It’s unacceptable.” “I’m sorry.” “Just because you’re the only one who works in the HR department does not mean you get to come in late and do whatever you want. You get paid here like everyone else and they work just as hard. They come in and give their best effort and I expect you to do the same. I did not hire you to take it easy or to slack off. This is a job. You are to be here at nine in the morning and leave at five. You are not to be here at nine thirty or ten or ten thirty.” “I understand.” Your head remains downcasted. “I’m sorry.” He is loud and firm, making the warning clear. “If there is not an improvement made immediately, I will dock your pay. And if you can’t handle arriving on time, then maybe this job isn’t suitable for you.” “I’m sorry.” To say you were humiliated was barely scratching the surface. Not only were your bones and muscles fatigued, but you were barely holding yourself together emotionally. All you could do was feel the burning of your eyes and hold your head down as he continued to reprimand you. “Don’t apologize. Make the improvement.” You nod, fully aware that you won’t even be able to mention the idea of a raise. Hoseok watches as you leave. There’s something uncomfortable that settles down inside of him and he turns to the window when you’ve disappeared. For a few minutes, he rests until his partner comes through the doorway. “Well, that was unusually harsh. “ Hoseok shifts his and exhales. “You heard?” “Everything. And everyone did.” “God…” He leans his head back and shuts his eyes tight, the oncoming of a headache beginning to pulsate at his temples. “Why was it so excessive?” Jimin spills the honest question, brows raised and arms crossed as he leans on his partner’s doorway. “You know we both don’t care if someone’s late as long as they perform well and complete their duties. Why the hell were you being so unreasonable?” “I don’t know.” And Hoseok genuinely means it. “I got frustrated.” “Did she say why she was late?” “She didn’t tell me.” “I’m not surprised.” Jimin scoffs and gives him an incredulous look, still unable to believe that he gave a scolding to one of the best workers of the firm. “You’re kind of a massive asshole, dude.” // During your lunch break, you begin to search up for bank loans, seeing if you’re eligible for any and how big of a hole you’re digging for yourself in if you got a loan with high interest rates. You also slap and pinch yourself several times to stay awake, drinking more and more coffee to stay alert. The last thing you want is to accidentally fall asleep at your desk and have Hoseok walk by and catch you in the act. Little did you know that same man was already standing outside your door, pacing back and forth without letting you see him lingering outside. “What the hell is he doing?” Seulgi whispers to Namjoon, hunched over by their table and flickering their pupils over. He mutters back, “You tell me.” “Is he going to fire Y/N?!” Seokjin is naturally louder and the two have to shush him, cowering together, especially afraid of their boss today because of his flaring temper. Everyone in the office was on edge. “He better not,” Seulgi spits out harshly, baffled by the mere idea of it. “No, he wouldn’t do that…..Unless….” Namjoon’s brows knit together. “What?” The female legal assistant pokes him. “Unless what, Namjoon? Goddammit, don’t leave me hanging! Namjoon! Speak, you idiot!” “Do you think he feels…..guilty?” The male in the glasses asks and quirks his head to the side, a sharp inhale stolen from the seams of his lips. He spins to look at his colleagues. “I mean he reprimanded her pretty hard. Maybe he feels bad.” “Hoseok? Feeling bad?” Jin scoffs. “Yeah right.” At the exact same time as the paralegals having their conversation, there’s a knock at your door. Your head whips up, eyes widening at who it is. The person at your doorway clears his throat and leans back with arms behind him. His black hair seems ruffled like he’s ran his hand through it several times. You haven’t seen Hoseok so disoriented in a long time. “Hey, I’m going downstairs for a coffee. Do you want one?” “No, thank you. I’m fine.” Seokjin shakes his head, oblivious to what’s transpiring. “Do you really think Hoseok’s the type to feel guilty over something like that?” “Do you need me?” Hoseok’s appeared again at your doorway less than five minutes later and you’re bewildered, blinking twice before your mouth draws open to respond. “What? Oh, no. I’m fine.” “Okay.” The lawyer nods. “I’m busy anyways.” “Okay.” Less than ten minutes later, Hoseok’s swung by your little office once again. “About earlier….” You frown. “Earlier?” “Turns out the office machine downstairs is under repair,” he explains himself. “Oh.” You don’t know what to say to him. “I see.” “So I couldn’t get coffee for you...or me...anyways.” Hoseok clears his throat, aware of the stiff tension in the room and how bizarre he’s acting. “If you ever need me, just call Lisa or Dahyun.” “Alright.” Twenty minutes later, he’s once again stopped by your door. But this time, he has a coat slung over his arm, probably leaving to court or going out to meet a client. Your suspicions are confirmed when he says to you, “I’ll be out for the rest of the day. Taehyung’s coming with me.” “Okay…?” But you’re still confused as to why he’s telling you these things. He leaves all the time without saying a single word to anyone in the office. As if he can read your thoughts, the lawyer scrambles and elaborates, “I just thought you’d want to know. In case you were looking for me.” “Yeah...umm....” There’s no way he would come to work intoxicated, so that possibility is ruled out. But you still don’t know what it is that’s making him act so strange. The lawyer keeps stopping by like he’s not drowning in work. And while this is the last time, that doesn’t give you much comfort as to why he’s speaking so gently and he looks so sad. “Thanks.” He clears his throat awkwardly. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to say, by the way.” “What is it?” You blink. “Do you need to come in?” “No, it’ll be quick.” Hoseok hesitates and then a slight smile appears on his face, the corner of his mouth tugging. “Thanks. For that time on the mountain. You helped me from slipping.” “Oh, yeah.” You’re reminded of the little event and you return his smile. “That was a given.” His grin becomes sheepish. Jung Hoseok slips his hands out of his pockets and nods. “You’re right. I was scared. I’m scared of a lot of things,” he admits quietly. “So thanks for helping me.” “It’s nothing.” The smile you have is more for yourself than to display to the world. And you finally know what it is. You know why he’s being so bizarre and being such an oddball. Hoseok is the type to feel guilty after he’s gotten angry. He’s the type to want to shower people in kisses and apologies, squeeze them in a hug and beg for forgiveness in a squeaky voice. But he is sadly unable to do so with his position in this firm. He is unable to do what he wants most when he’s painted a serious and stern picture of himself in this office. Jung Hoseok is the type who wants nothing more than to spread happiness. He ends up leaving your office and walking down the hall with his hand out in front of him, palm facing towards the ceiling. After a moment of wistful gazing, he crumples his fingers until it forms into a fist. He can still remember when your fingers were slotted by his, when your palms clasped his, when he held you. Yes — Hoseok is scared and afraid of a lot of things. One of those things just happened to be you.

#bts fanfic #hoseok fanfic #hoseok fluff #bts scenario #hoseok scenario #OC as a poor taxi driver with two jobs....sad lyfe much #BTS HOSEOK as an asshole who's about to plead guilty for being an asshole #okay not gonna lie tho - as simple as this chapter is #i really like it a lot

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winterknight1087 · 4 years

Text

Flower from the Fae (ch 41)

Chapter Title:

Summary: Virgil likes plants, but when he goes to investigate a plant his friend, Remy, tells him about, he doesn’t exactly check out the plant. Little does he know that the handsome man he meets there is a fairy who is about to challenge the world Virgil knows.

Word Count: 3937

Chapter Warnings: This is a heavier chapter, so please be safe! Skip if need be! Sympathetic Deceit, sympathetic Remus, injuries, death, cancer mention, blood, transphobia, unaccepting parent, misgendering of partially closeted character, discussion of abuse

Chapter Pairings: Thomas/OC-Jon, Demus

AO3 Link My Writing

A/N: this is chapter 41, so read the first chapter here!

~30 years ago

“What do you mean you just want to talk!” the girl screamed at him. “You’re now the king! You’re supposed to be ordering my death! I killed… I… I killed all those people! I killed your parents! I broke my family’s deal with… with that thing.”

“I read your appeal to my parents, Cassandra. I know the horrors that fairy did to you. I’m probably one of the few beings who know that the explosion was an accident. As far as I’m concerned, that deal was never supposed to exist because you did not agree to it. And the idea of my ordering your death, do you really think I would come out here without a guard or at very least a weapon if I were planning to kill you? I’ve done my best to come to you on your own terms, so that we can talk. Half of this kingdom is already in search of blood. I just want to help.”

Thomas got a good look into her eyes. They were the rumored mismatched green and purple. They held no light and were filled with fear. She couldn’t have been more than a couple of years younger than him. Yet, the horrors this poor girl endured… The thought of his pain from losing his parents probably was laughable compared to what she has endured.

“Why?”

“Because everyone deserves a chance. I know that bastard. I know about his quest for power and what he’s willing to do for it. You tried to stop what happened two days ago and my parents failed you. I want to help.”

“You don’t know anything about what… about what…” her eyes filled. “You know nothing.”

Thomas made a decision as he slowly raised the front of his shirt, revealing a large scar across his chest before awkwardly dropping his shirt. “I may not know specifics of what he did to you, but I do know him. That was his parting gift after finding out I was the prince. He wanted power and was willing to do what he could to get it. Unfortunately for all of us, my parents supported his goal for power. I know of the spell he stole from the library. While I don’t know for certain, I would assume as a witch, you were forced to cast it for him. The spell, being as complex as it was, backfired when he tried to hurry it along and here we are. Please. I’m not going to force you to do anything. If you wish to be left alone, tell me and I will leave. I just think you’d be happier leaving the Realm of the Fae and returning to the human world.”

“You’d be willing… to do that for me?” she asked, softly.

“Of course,” he answered. “If you would like, I can arrange for some nymphs to take you in to help you adjust and ensure that you’ll return to your proper realm on your own two feet. But, again, it’s whatever you want.”

“How can I trust what you’re telling me?” she demanded, but Thomas was relieved to see she was at least becoming hopeful.

Thomas looked around and found a mushroom. He picked it and asked the girl to use her dagger to prick his finger. She didn’t look sure about it, but did as he told her. With the drop of blood, He carved a rune into it. There weren’t any herbs around that he could use, so he knew the reverse deal wouldn’t be as strong. Still he told her to take the mushroom in the folds of her cloak and to say his name.

“Uh… Thomas Sanders?”

“Before the witch who holds the deal, I agree to stand by my words,” the mushroom was glowing now. “Congrats, you caught the prin… nope, not that anymore. The King of the Fae in a reverse deal. That mushroom is enough of a guarantee that I will stand by my word to do what I can to help you.”

“You are too trusting, your majesty.” She said softly, staring at the fungi, knowing the power that it held. “I… I would like to return to the human world. Please. I know my family is gone, but… I’m scared to stay here.”

Thomas stood up and offered her a hand. “Then let’s go make arrangements for you to return to your realm.”

****

~14 years ago

“Why would you guys come here all decked out, knowing Mom would be furious!” The miserable teenager demanded.

“Because we wanted to show you that it’s OK to be who you are. Your mother is wrong, and honestly, she’s just a terrible person.” Thomas stated. “She hates the LGBT community. Have I told the two of you what that woman did at my wedding? She brought a bag of angry wasps and released them when the priest asked if anyone opposed your uncle and my marriage. Angry wasps!”

The teenager gave him a get to the point look. “Alright, Hope, I’ll get to it. My point is that not everyone is like that woman. You can be ace, pan, bi, gay, straight, trans, non-binary, whatever best fits you. It’s not wrong. Your mother does not get to out you to the entire family because you’re questioning though. So, we decided to make her reconsider going around and outing you. Only you get to decide who you are.”

The teenager flinched. “Please don’t call me Hope.”

Quickly, Thomas nodded. “Alright, any other things you’d like me to stop using?”

“I… uh… Mom will be furious if she knows, but I’ve been going by Emile, he/him. Just, please avoid Hope or pronouns if you can, please.”

“No problem, bud.”

“Why do you have long hair if you are a him?” a tiny curious Roman asked.

“Roman, people can look however they wish.”

Emile picked at his ponytail. “I want to cut it off, but Mom…”

“I don’t need you and that bastard corrupting my daughter!”

Hearing the shout, Emile winced as he muttered to himself. “Son, please, just use son for once.”

Thomas pursed his lips. “Alright, are you sure you want it off, Emile?”

He blinked in surprise before slowly nodding. “But…”

“Hey, Roman. You want to cut some hair? Aunt Zoey will be furious, but I’ll get you two scoops of ice cream if you let her throw her fit.”

“Three!”

“Two.”

“Two and a half?”

“Alright, deal.”

“Uncle Thomas?”

Thomas looked at him. “She can’t be angry at you if your eight-year-old cousin sneakily chops it off, now can she?”

The teenager finally looked hopeful. “No, I guess not. Plus, if it just gets awkwardly cut, she’ll have to take me to get it properly fixed and I can have them do one of the cool styles! And hair stylists are known to always cut hair shorter than you want.”

“So, you have any scissors? Maybe some headphones to pretend you don’t hear a little giggle behind you?”

Emile jumped up and ran from the room. Roman was giggling, excited for the ice cream! And his cousin finally looked happy! Thomas started to stage the little performance, setting Roman behind the couch, telling him to only touch the scissors once he was going to cut Emile’s hair. Emile was sat on the couch with his long ponytail draped along the back of the couch. His headphones were on and he was bopping his head to his music as his mother stormed out of her bedroom, fed up with her brother.

“I want you freaks out of my house. It’s bad enough I have to deal with having you as family. I will not have you corrupting my daughter. Hope is already having enough problems. She doesn’t need you lot making it worse.”

Snip.

Roman dropped the scissors before running to his dad, with the full ponytail in his hand, giggling. Roman’s Pa had stepped out in time to see his sister screaming at his husband and son while his niece ran a hand through shorter hair than she had had when they arrived. He noticed a little glint in Thomas’s eyes that told him all he needed to know.

“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! YOU ARE NO LONGER ALLOWED TO VISIT! YOU HEAR! GET OUT!”

Half an hour later, Thomas split his scoop of ice cream and set it in Roman’s bowl. “There’s the last piece of your payment, little prince.”

“Zoey is never going to like you after that stunt, Thomas.” Jon muttered, watching his son dig into the ice cream.

“She has never liked me. Never forget the wasps, Jon. I’ve stopped caring that she hates me. She was making her son miserable! We just helped brighten his life up a little.”

“Son? What did I miss while she was screaming at me for your idea of invading her house in rainbows?”

“Uh… Hope is Emile and uses he/him along with masculine nouns, such as son.” Thomas answered, eating his half a scoop.

Jon sighed before chuckling. “Did you see how furious she was? I wonder if Emile will be keeping the Stitch we gave him. I can see her taking her anger out of it.”

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Jon cut off as he quickly pulled a note out of his pocket. “I received this while you were pissing off my sister. You might like to read it.��

Thomas accepted the note and saw the words: purple and green eyes ten-year-old witch with hunter.

****

“You won’t stop worrying about it, so we are going to investigate, Thomas.”

“We haven’t heard from Cassandra is years, Jon. That set of eyes is only found in one family of witches. If she was taken by a hunter… She wouldn’t…”

“This is why I am insisting we go. If she’s there, we’ll get her out. We know the boy is with this hunter for sure. I can’t sit back and let a hunter get away with harming a child.”

“Alright, once we tuck Roman into bed, we’ll head out.”

****

So many traps! Jon regretted inviting Thomas along. Their kingdom needed him, but he also knew that Thomas would be furious if he hadn’t. It took half an hour to finally get down the hallway to the central containment area. They could hear someone crying from one of the further cells. Jon stopped Thomas in order to check to ensure they were alone.

The child was hugging a badly-made rabbit to his chest. Thomas began to open the door, which sent the child off of his bed. He quickly shoved the toy behind his nightstand, as if to protect his single toy. He looked confused seeing the men standing outside his door but didn’t ask.

“Come on, we’re getting you out of here.” Jon said, opening his arms for the child. “We’re going to get you to safety, OK?”

“But… you aren’t dad?” he whispered.

Thomas barely kept his fury off his face as Jon softly asked. “What about your mom? Where is she?”

“She… Dad says she didn’t want me… He said he sent her away…” the boy didn’t look sure of what he was saying though.

Jon asked, wondering if this child was actually alright as he seemed less afraid than he’d thought the kid would be. “Do you want to stay here then?”

“NO!” the boy cried out before throwing his hands over his mouth, terrified.

There we go, Jon thought. “Alright, then come with us, young one. Let’s get you out of creepy lab land.”

The child slowly moved forward and let the man take his hand. They started for the exit when the child ripped his hand out of Jon’s and ran for a shelf. He started to try and climb it, but he couldn’t manage it.

“We need to go. The mean man can be coming back soon, kid.” Jon said.

“Mom’s book! I… I can’t leave it! It’s all I have of her!”

“Go, I’ll find it.”

Thomas took the child’s hand and started rushing with him out of the lab. Jon looked over the stuff before finding a grimoire bag. He pulled it off and decided that this would just have to be what he brought the child. With the bag, he started off after his husband and the child. Thomas and the child made it out safely, the child’s magic working ahead of them to stop traps. The fairy was relieved when he saw his husband, but…

“JON!”

The King’s Witch collapsed at the entryway to the hunter’s lab. Thomas and the boy ran for him. Thomas’s eyes frantically trying to figure out how bad his husband was hurt, but it was too dark to properly see him. Jon weakly shoved the bag into the boy’s arms. The kid hugged it close to him, before reaching out a hand to the man.

“No, yo-you ne-eed to run. Get as far away f-f-from here as you can, kid.” Jon gasped, gently pushing the child away. “Run.”

One terrified look at the two of them was the last look they saw of the child’s face as he pulled the book closer and ran away. Thomas was sobbing as he felt the warm liquid on his hands as he tried to feel where the wounds were. He tried to do something… anything, but Jon insisted the fairy just take his hand.

“T-Tell Roman, that I love him. And you. I love you both so much.” He gasped before shutting his eyes and, knowing that it would take the last of what life he had, Jon poured his magic into a single spell. “Domum!”

Thomas felt the change around him. He heard the screams and panic. He watched as medics tried to save his husband. He felt something in him break when he heard them pronounce him dead. He blankly watched as his friends helped clean him of his husband’s blood. Once they were done, he felt himself wander to his son’s bedroom and pull the sleeping child close to him as tears slide down his face. He’ll never forget having to tell his son that his Papa died a hero trying to save someone once they woke up the next morning. He watches as part of his heart was given a royal funeral as his son begged for his papa to return.

****

~7 years ago

“Please, I have to save my little python.” The man begged as tears streamed down his face. “I know my name and life aren’t enough to save him. I have an ancient grimoire extender though! I… I don’t know what else I can offer you. I just need to save my little python. He’s hurt really bad and… and it’s all my fault. I was the one driving. I killed my wife. I nearly killed my son and son-in-law. He literally just got married a week ago. He has so much to live for. Please, I’m begging you as a broken father to tell me what I can do to… to save my son.”

“Breathe, please.” Thomas begged the broken man. “I understand. We can talk, but I need you to breathe for me, alright?”

It took some time, but he was finally breathing, at least. “Well, what do I need to do, fairy? Please, it’ll only keep getting worse for him. Even now, they aren’t confident in his chances. Please, what do I need to do.”

“You said you have an ancient grimoire extender? That should be enough for what you’ve told me. You’ll just have to give me a night to figure out the logistics and whatnot to make sure that it is.”

“It’s back at home.” He said, miserably, before quickly adding on. “But I can get a family friend to pick it up or…”

Of course it is. “Alright, you said he’s stable at least, right?”

“Yes.”

“OK, meet me back here tomorrow. I’ll figure something out.”

“Thank you.” The man had that small gleam of hope that Thomas loved bringing back to people.

That said, he had no clue what he was going to do. He sat on a random hill, wondering how he could set this entire deal up. He felt bad for the poor shifter. Thomas couldn’t imagine the suffering he was going through. Having just lost his spouse, his son destined for a life of pain and loss as more and more complications appeared as time passed, his new son-in-law dealing with brain damage, and as if that weren’t enough, the man had six months to live because of cancer! Thomas groaned as he curled into a ball, fighting the complexities of this entire thing.

“Sweet, I had no clue how to call one of you gurls.”

Thomas looked up to see a being with an old leather jacket and sunglasses like some bad boy character out of a 70s movie. The fairy immediately picked up on the being’s magic, noting that they were a sandman. So, neutral towards fairies, no major concerns yet. Then Thomas noted that the sandman seemed extremely troubled.

“Uh? Can I help you, Sandman?” Thomas asked, uncertainly.

“I… you are a fairy, aren’t you?” they asked, just as uncertain.

Thomas ran a hand through his hair, another one, really? “What can I do for you?”

“Well, obviously I’m in need of a deal.”

Thomas knit his eyebrows. “Can’t you use your own magic, or appeal to your higher?”

“Those bastards don’t care about… Look, they refuse to help me. Are you willing to?”

“What?”

Remy groaned. “OK, look. I made a promise to someone who is essentially my little brother. Sandmen don’t care about anyone else. I need to protect him. He… He’s gone through too much. I have to protect him. I need a deal for his protection. Are you willing to work with me or are you going to tell me to get lost as well?”

“Protection from what? There is only so much I can do for something like that.”

“Hunters.” Remy didn’t even give Thomas a chance to process that, before going off. “Look, I know you can’t guarantee complete protection. Something like a blanket protection over our town, hiding traces of magic. That is something I’ve heard you lot can do. If it’s too big a request, please find someone higher who can agree. Please. This hunter is close and if he catches even a sign of magic, my best friend will…He… I… He will not survive that encounter. Please.”

Actually, this may solve my other deal issue… “Well, you’re out of luck as no one is higher than me, but you are in luck as I can do something like that.”

“No one… wait… Don’t shit me, gurl. You’re the king?”

Thomas stood up, brushing off his pants. “You’ve just saved me a lot of headache. That being, if you are willing to go fetch something from some random guy’s house, with random guy’s permission, of course.”

Remy blinked in shock. “That doesn’t sound like a normal deal? What happened to ‘give me your name and endure servitude for like however I feel like it’ sort of things?”

“Got rid of it, quite a while ago. I will end up needing your name as that is just the basics of the magic, but things tend to be better for everyone if we all just get along. And technically, which is good enough for the magic, you are doing a servitude thing by doing this task for me. Can you meet me back here tomorrow, same time? I’ll need to go speak to the other person and cause my advisor headache, but we’ll get this all done.”

Remy nodded. “Tomorrow.”

With that, Thomas returned home. He checked on Roman, pleased to see that the teenager hadn’t killed Talyn’s foster kid turned student, though their argument was heated. He then went and found Joan who immediately knew that they were in for a long night. Still, they accepted it and followed their friend.

****

Thomas stood in the hospital room, trying not to invade the man’s personal space. The man explained everything to the other patient in the room, who, unlike the man’s son, was awake. The boy looked over at the other bed, with hope-filled eyes. The man pulled the boy into a hug before coming over.

“OK, Remus understands what’s going to happen. Let’s do this, your majesty.”

Thomas nodded and cast the deal. The man handed over the extender, in a dark purple bag to protect the fairy from the iron, and Thomas snapped at the limp figuring. There was a groan and a soft ‘dad’, causing the man to shoot over to the boy in the bed.

“Hey, hey, it’s OK, DeeDee. You’re safe. You’ll be alright. I know it hurts now, but you’ll be better once you’re out of here. You’re safe, Dee.” He sobbed. “It’s alright, little python. Remus is here. I’m here. We’re here. We love you and your safe.”

Thomas assumed the boy in the bed fell back to sleep as the man turned to him, with a huge, watery smile. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Thomas smiled back at him. “You’re welcome.”

He gave a weak laugh as he looked over at Remus. “He’ll be fine, little squeakers.”

“Dee spoke! He woke up!” Remus looked close to sobbing.

“Yeah, buddy. Now, let’s get you in a wheelchair for your daily escape while we take the fairy back so he can go home.”

Thomas walked with the two. It was midday and there were plenty of people in the little garden area. The man led Thomas over to the hidden fairy circle. Thomas wondered how one managed to grow out here, considering a hospital would probably keep their little garden well-tailored. Not that it really mattered now. I think I might talk Roman into a movie night. I need time with my own son after this stress.

“Thank you, again.”

“It’s no problem. Now, he has improved a lot from what I could feel, but the magic will do the majority of its work once he’s out of here, away from confused humans. Try to get a follow-up with someone who’ll understand magic sped up his recovery. I can’t promise how much it will help some of his outer scars as they’ve already started to heal on their own.”

“Yes, yes. You’ve drilled all of this into my head. I’m grateful for what you’ve done for my son, your majesty. It means so much to me. Yesterday, they weren’t sure how long he’d be out and how dim his prospects were. Now… Now, he can live. Thank you.”

Thomas nodded as he stepped past the boundary of the circle. As Thomas vanished, he saw the man collapse onto the ground. He appeared in the palace, with a bad taste in his mouth, hoping that the man’s collapse was from relief over... He knew he couldn’t return without risking appearing in front of a bunch of frantic humans. So, with that bad taste, he entered his home and sought Roman out, as he sent all the magical good luck he could to the two boys.

“Uh, Dad, you alright?” the teenager asked, looking over the figure.

“I… uh… Not really, but there’s nothing anyone can do to fix it.” Thomas answered, awkwardly. “Would you be up to some Disney movies with your old man, Ro? I could really use a distraction after… Uh… yeah. So uh… movies?”

Roman was already on his feet. “Of course! Let’s do it!”

Next Chapter

Taglist: @that-one-nb-kid, @hufflepuffxfox

#Flower from the Fae #tw death #tw blood #tw cancer mention #tw injury #tw transphobia #tw outing #tw misgendering #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #deceit #remus #tw cursing #Sage writes

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jackie-tristam · 4 years

Text

everything i wanted

Summary: Short fic based off Billie Eilish’s ‘everything I wanted’. This is the first time I’ve posted any writings on Tumblr and I’m sorry if i didn’t handle the song, lyrics or Jack’s character well! This is an oc x canon character fanfic and i’m unsure if it formatted well!

I had a dream

I got everything I wanted

Not what you’d think

And if I’m being honest

It might’ve been a nightmare

To anyone who might care

Lucia held her arms close to her body as she shuffled out of her room. She had another nightmare about Queenslayer. The feeling of being shot off the cliff and going into free fall haunted her dreams. As she quietly sat on the makeshift balcony, she looked up at the night sky, her tears falling from her eyes, she let out soft, choked sobs.

Thought I could fly (fly)

So I stepped off the Golden, mm

Nobody cried (cried, cried, cried, cried)

Nobody even noticed

I saw them standing right there

Kinda thought they might care (Might care, might care)

Her eyes fell away from the sky as she covered her mouth, replaying her last memories in her mind at the time. Silva and Jack watched her frenzying as she shook uncontrollably, In agonizing pain. Her eyes glowed as she made the same stifled sound she could hear herself making even now. She felt so weak and small, remembering how little power she had back then. How it felt to be hurt by someone she trusted with her life.

She stared into the forming pools in her hands. “Why…”

I had a dream

I got everything I wanted

But when I wake up, I see

You with me

Jack, who was returning from a late-night walk and was struggling with his own memories of Queenslayer, heard her cries. He quietly set aside his veil, weapon and mask before walking over to her; his footfalls the only other sound outside of her tears. As she turned to face him, he stopped and put his hands in his pockets. “Mind if I join you?”

Lucia moves aside slightly, sniffling as she wipes her nose with the back of her hand. “What’s wrong? If it’s okay I ask…” Jack softly whispered, resting his hand on hers

“I…I remember when you shot me and I’m having these nightmares and I… I feel so worthless and weak.” Lucia hissed, slipping her hand away slightly. “You…you and Silva didn’t care and then when you found me again and joined us…”

And you say, “As long as I’m here, no one can hurt you

Don’t wanna lie here but you can learn to

If I could change the way that you see yourself

You wouldn’t wonder why you hear ‘they don’t deserve you’”

“When I joined you and your ragtag group of friends, I joined because I’m not the monster people call me. I don’t want to be the monster in people’s dreams anymore, least of all yours. When I said to everyone that I would be your sword and shield, I wasn’t trying to say it to seem like I…” He trailed off

Jack pulled a leg up to his chest as he let the other dangle freely over the ledge. “Listen I joined you because I never intended to hurt you all those years ago. You… you were frenzying. I don’t deserve to be here right now, after everything I did to you. I don’t even feel like I deserve to be alive sometimes for what I did to you.”

I tried to scream

But my head was underwater

They called me weak

Like I’m not just somebody’s daughter

Coulda been a nightmare

But it felt like they were right there

And it felt like yesterday was a year ago

But I don’t wanna let anybody know

‘Cause everybody wants something from me now

And I don’t wanna let them down

Lucia looked over at him between gaps in her hair, which thankfully hid her eyes pricking with more tears. “I screamed as I fell… but I couldn’t even get it out because my lungs had filled with blood by then. I felt myself dying. I could feel my body coming apart as I fell faster. Jack, do you know how much I was aware of until I fell? How much it haunts me? Especially now in nightmares?”

She shifts to tuck one leg under herself. “I dream of what happened to me. The way I fell back as I saw you look away from me to talk to Silva. The way the clouds that day were so grey… and all I wanted to do was live. I didn’t even want to be a hero or avenge those I lost in that moment. I just” she choked on the next line but forced it past her lips “Jack, I was so scared. I didn’t want to die. And the last thing I heard was a goodbye, but I could barely hear that over my own thoughts. Did you even care about you did to me?”

Jack bit his lip. “Yeah, I did. And when we found out you were the Successor of the Blood, I wanted you to come help us. To help put an end to the frenzy others were going through. I didn’t think on how you were affected from back then.”

Lucia kept silent for a bit. “I’m scared of letting everyone down, Jack.”

He was taken aback from the response. “You won’t, Lucia. What makes you feel that?”

“Everyone is trusting me not to fail. Louis, Yakumo, Mia; Hell, even you and Eva. Everything is riding on me not failing the successors and all of Vein.” Lucia sighed and looked up from her hands.

“Then there’s how you ask if I plan to die a dog in some of our fights together against the opponent. I feel like I’m even lesser, even when you praise me for my skills not waning.”

Jack looked away from her. “You know I never meant any harm in that during those fights, right? It’s just me trying to be blunt about the danger is all. You of all people should know that.” He whispered, wiping away a stray tear

Lucia looked over at him completely, noticing his tone changing. “I never meant any harm in it. Again, I never meant to harm you. I always talked about you to Eva and she always told me I had this small smile when I remember your antics and your personality. How you seemed so self-assured.”

He gave a soft chuckle. “Even now, she tells me how she sees why you made me smile before I had to” he paused. “No; before I needed to make sure you didn’t turn into some lost revenant, a shell of who you were. Of whom you are now.”

I had a dream

I got everything I wanted

But when I wake up, I see

You with me

Lucia tilted her head in confusion, her black hair lightly being swept across her cheeks by the light breeze that began. She opened her mouth but couldn’t form the words she wanted to say. The words she needed to say to erase that feeling of guilt for what happened in Queenslayer. But she knew deep down that it would always haunt him. Closing her mouth quietly, she rested her hand on his, giving it a gentle pat.

The silence was deafening for the two of them, fully aware of what caused it. The two had their own regrets for what happened in Queenslayer and how even now, they were being torn apart inside. Soon she mustered up the courage to speak. “It’s not your fault Jack” Lucia began, voice unsteady “you did what you thought was best for everyone. And while I feared dying, it kept everyone safe from what could’ve been worst case scenario.”

He gave a sad smile as he looked at her. “Of course it did, but it doesn’t deny that you were scarred from what happened. That you’re still grappling with what happened.”

And you say, “As long as I’m here, no one can hurt you

Don’t wanna lie here, but you can learn to

If I could change the way that you see yourself

You wouldn’t wonder why you hear ‘they don’t deserve you’”

“Nor does it deny that my death shook you up. But you do deserve to live and be happy. Just like I deserve to try to make things right. For everyone.” Lucia breathed

As she changed position, Jack could see that the sun was beginning to rise. Lucia then sighed and looked out over the horizon. “Just remember that you don’t have to do it alone. You don’t deserve to suffer alone, carrying the world on your shoulders. Everyone is here to carry the burden with you, myself included. I know you’re still scared that you’ll fail deep down and I can’t change that but” Jack paused and threw and arm around her shoulders, causing her to flinch away for a moment before she leaned into him. “I want to help you prove to yourself that you aren’t weak or pitiful. That you’re worth something to everyone around you. After all, we all care about you and nothing can change that.”

As he gave her a light side hug, squeezing her shoulder; they could hear what little signs of nature was left coming alive inside the red mist.

“Thank you, Jack. I needed to hear that.” She admitted, hiding her smile

If I knew it all then, would I do it again?

Would I do it again?

If they knew what they said would go straight to my head

What would they say instead?

If I knew it all then would I do it again?

Would I do it again?

If they knew what they said would go straight to my head

What would they say instead?

“It’s fine. You needed to talk to someone about this, even if I wasn’t the best of people.” He casually spoke

Lucia began to giggle before yawning. “I’m serious. Thank you for showing you cared about how I feel. I’ll always remember this…”

As she dozed off under his arm, he couldn’t help but smile to himself. It wasn’t much but he was happy that Lucia seemed to be able to finally sleep peacefully. ‘Now’ he thought to himself ‘I just need to help her see that she’s braver than she realizes.’

He didn’t regret anything about serving in Queenslayer when it came down to working with Lucia down to the very last moment. He even felt he could find it in his heart to forgive himself, if only a little bit; for what happened after everything they did together.

#Code Vein #Code Vein Jack #jack rutherford #Code Vein writings #oc x canon #oh god i'm nervous!

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