#despite the ever present fear that his brother could snap at any moment

[spoonhate]

I'm gonna say it once

A lot of y'all don't understand the complexity of this mf

#i feel like a lot of people just boil him down to angsty teenager or reigen hater #which sucks because hes so much more than that! #because of his lack of powers growing up #its clear ritsu threw his head first in academics and creating this perfect image of himself #perfect student perfect son perfect brother #he gets straight A's #hes on the student council #his mother is proud of him #despite the ever present fear that his brother could snap at any moment #Ritsu always tries to support and reach out for his brother #all of this said #i don't think people get how it's so interesting that the moment he makes one mistake #he goes the other side of the pendulum #as a teenager boy he thinks in absolutes #ok. i made a mistake. i am now unforgivable and can act maliciously #like years of keeping in his emotions just like his brother he lashes out. hes rude. hes brash. he threatens teru #he sheds his persona and expresses the ugly emotions the ones that he kept hidden in fear of his brother #i need to stop talking about i just #ritsu is a complicated character with such interesting motivations backstory and personality #and his relationship with Mob is one of the most fascinating aspects of the show and I'm tired of pretending it's not #mp100 #mob psycho 100 #mob psycho ritsu #mob psycho

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello! Thank you for your work!🔥

How would Bi Han react in the event of his beloved's fatal illness? 💔

Thank you for reading them! (Even if I like to think half of them are shit.) and thank you for the request! 🦦

Bi-Han would be broken, shattered, lost and so full of anguish and all that was locked away behind a stoic facade upon hearing the news of potentially loosing his beloved forever.

He would try to find a way to combat against it to save his beloved, even despite being told by the best medics possible that there was only so much they could do before it inevitably became out of their power.

You; the reason that he dared to smile, the reason he dared to laugh despite attempting to hide it in his scoffs and grunts. You were even the reason he dared to love in the first place, gifting him the safe space to be open and vulnerable. And yet he was meant to reconcile and to accept the fact that he now had to bear the burden of living a long life without his beloved.

Bi-Han would blame the cause for your unfortunate circumstance on everyone else.

He wanted to point his finger at someone so badly as to not sit in his feelings, for he knew that he would only be crushed beneath the weight of his repressed emotions. Bi-Han didn’t want to feel anything during the hardest moment in his life, especially as he tried so hard to act indifferent towards the whole thing on the outside, whilst on the inside he was breaking.

Everything within him was breaking but the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei wasn’t allowed to express his grief other then behind closed doors. Bi-Han would sit by your side for long periods of time, refusing to depart from you for a single second for fear that any moment he wasn’t present would be your last. Bi-Han didn’t want to fathom you being alone in your final moments, it was disrespectful in his eyes for you deserved to pass away know that you were extremely loved.

He would eventually grow irritated and temperamental, snapping at everyone at every minor inconvenience made and is more ruthless then before, so much so that Kuai Liang would have to pull his brother aside and make him see reason in that you wouldn’t condone this sort of attitude. Kuai Liang understood that Bi-Han was in a bad state but wasn’t going to stand aside and allow him to treat others poorly.

Bonus: Kuai Liang was also grieving the fact that he was destined to loose a close friend but he wouldn’t resort to taking his frustrations out on others. It wasn’t fair on those who weren’t aware of the current situation. Tomas was also grieving the fact but did so within the privacy of his own room.

Needless to say that Bi-Han would come out of this a much more colder, unfeeling, vengeful, ruthless and dangerous man then ever before. His beloved was going to be unceremoniously taken from him and he was helpless to stop it and so when you do pass on, he would truly have nothing left to lose -outside of the Lin Kuei of course- and that would only make for Bi-Han to become even more of a threat.

His heart would freeze over into a literal block of ice because his heart would only belong to the one person who managed to melt it in the first place.

Never again would he ever entrust his heart to someone else no matter how hard they tried. To Bi-Han, no one could ever take your place and would even kill those who even dared try.

Bi-Han would even try to forget about you but that was proven to be a difficult task as he found himself unwilling to part from the last remaining things he has of you. So he would lay there at night remembering how he failed you, whilst reaching over to your side of the bed that had long since gone cold, a tear silently sliding down his cheek before his face naturally contorted into anger; the only emotion he felt nowadays.

#mk1 #mk x reader #mk imagine #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x y/n #mortal kombat x you #mortal kombat imagine #mortal kombat imagines #bi han imagine #bi han x you #bi han x y/n #bi han imagines #bi han x reader #sub zero x reader

[renegadesfic]

I'm Vax, She's Vex

Another little thing from me! This one is fully self-indulgent and has the twins both being trans, Vex a trans girl and Vax a trans guy. AO3 link is here - send me comments if you like it! Note: there are a couple of lines that mention Syldor being physically abusive, so if that's not something you can stomach even in small quantities, be careful!

Full fic text under the cut.

“You look stupid in a dress.”

Vex’ahlia straightened the fabric out, tugging at the seams to try to loosen the stiff material. It clung tightly to her frame in some places and hung too loose in others, her body starting to grow and change in ways she was already tired of, in ways she’d been dreading since she learned about them. 

“I know, but it’s not like I can go out there in anything else.” She sighed. “You look stupid in that too, that… whatever that is.”

“I think Father called it a tuxedo?” Vax’ildan shrugged, fidgeting with the fabric in a way not dissimilar to how his sister was wriggling and shifting in her too-fancy dress. “Do I look that bad…?”

“Not like, ugly bad. Just weird. It doesn't suit you.”

“I never thought I’d see you in that many sparkles,” Vax giggled, moving to tug at one of the sequins on his sister’s dress. “I wish I could wear it for you…”

“I would wear yours if I could. I hate this thing.” She adjusted it again, wincing as she heard a sudden ripping noise. “Oh, gods, did I-”

“Are the both of you done yet?” That was, of course, their father. It took no effort at all for Vex’ahlia to hate him, not since the day they met - not since the day he stole them away from their mother. Vax’ildan had tried desperately to please him, but it was obvious it wasn't working, his frustration with them ever-present, his distaste clear in every interaction - or lack thereof, Vex couldn’t bring herself to say out loud. 

“Yes, Father,” Vax called from inside the room they were changing in. “We’ll be ready if anyone comes-”

“You had better hope they don’t,” Syldor snapped back. “If anyone comes to speak to you, they’ve already made more mistakes than I can bear. Just keep yourselves quiet and do not, under any circumstances, bother the guests. Understood?”

“Yes, Father,” Vax reiterated. “We won’t.”

“See to it then.” The sound of footsteps could be heard for a few moments down the hall, before their father turned a corner and the footfalls became too far away to hear. As soon as the sound faded, Vax began to cry. Quietly, of course, desperate not to be heard as he had been instructed. But it was plenty audible to his sister. 

“You should take the stupid thing off,” Vex offered, trying to comfort him. “It’s not like anyone will come.”

“But if someone does…” Vax stuttered through tears. “Then we’re in so much trouble…”

“I don’t care if we’re in trouble! He’s so annoying and mean, I don’t care if we make him mad. He’s mad all the time anyway, so who cares!”

Vax flinched at the shift in the volume of his sister’s voice, the sudden gesture she made. The cause of that flinch, that fear, was not lost on Vex - she knew perfectly well that Vax took much more of the physical torment their father inflicted than she did, despite him protesting louder. He was easier to walk on, maybe that was why. Vex certainly didn’t like to let herself be walked on. She’d rather get kicked on her side than roll over. 

But that did her no good in this scenario, so she swallowed her frustration and moved to wrap her arms around her brother. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled.” She tangled her fingers in his slicked back hair, trying to pull a little of the gunk loose.

“It’s fine… don’t pull on my hair, it’s fine.” He grumbled, pulling away. She didn't move her hand fast enough, and tugged a little too hard, causing a yelp from her brother. She winced at that noise herself, sick of hearing him in pain, sicker that she could inflict more on him even by accident. 

“Sorry…”

“It’s fine. Just…” He trailed off, looking down at the fine fabric of the tux he had on, fitting in all the wrong ways. 

“Just what?” Vex pried. “It’s fine, you can say it.”

“I just wish he hadn't put this stuff in my hair, that’s all.” That was definitely not all, but Vex had to tolerate it as an answer for now. Instead of pushing further, she took a brush from the stand beside her and dunked it in water, starting to run it through her brother’s hair. 

“What are you doing?” He squeaked, an undignified noise that made Vex giggle. “You’ll get this thing wet!”

“Not like anybody’s gonna see it before it dries. And you said you wanted the goop out, so I’m getting it out. It comes out with water, right?”

“I didn’t say- you shouldn’t take it out. I don’t want him to be upset-” Vex shushed him, continuing to run the brush through his hair, the gel slowly starting to release the strands from the glued-together mess it had caused. 

“Looks like it does,” she said. “Almost got it. Relax.”

“Fine…”

“Vax?”

“Yeah?”

A silence hung in the room for a moment. Vex swallowed around the lump in her throat. 

“I wish I could be like you.”

“What do you mean?” He turned around, a little bit of water slinging off his hair. “I thought you hated how I act around Father-”

“Not like that,” she cut in. “Like… how you look.”

“You want to wear this thing? Trust me, it sucks. It’s stiff and uncomfortable and pinches and-”

“No! Well, yes, but… no. More than that.”

“What, then?” Vax tilted his head, confused. Vex swallowed again, desperately trying to bury the anxiety in her chest. 

“I wish I could be a boy.”

There. She said it. It was out in the open. 

“Well, I wish I could be a girl. So I guess we’re even.”

Wait, what?

“What, what?” His response drew Vex’s attention to the fact that she had said that out loud, and she turned her face away, trying to hide her expression. 

“You also want to change?”

“I… yeah…” His voice was nearly a whisper, clearly harboring the same fear she felt, though she tried her best to hide it from him. “Are you… mad at me…?”

“No! No, I… I just wish…”

“I would trade with you. If I ever could.”

Vex nodded, a silent affirmation that she would do the same.

“Do you promise I look bad in this suit thing?”

“I thought it was called a tuxedo,” she responded. 

“I’m serious, Vex…”

“Sorry,” she shook her head, clearing the smile from her face. “Yes, you look terrible. Like, hard to look at terrible. Mostly because you’re clearly miserable… a little because it’s wet, but mostly because you're miserable.”

“The wet is your fault,” he retorted, “but… you mean it?”

“Yes. I do.”

He smiled at that. There weren’t words for a moment, the room silent and still - and then he pulled her into a tight hug, water from his hair dripping onto her dress. 

She didn’t mind, she thought, if it got ruined.

“Good,” he finally said. “I’d much rather look good in yours.”

“If I can manage to get out of it after, you can try it on,” she smiled at him. “If I can try yours, anyway.”

“You can try it as long as you keep me from tearing it off myself first.”

“It’s that bad, huh?”

He nodded. Yeah. Yeah, it was that bad. 

“Brother, just take it off. You look so miserable.”

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped, anger crossing his face. That anger quickly replaced itself with fear as he realized he’d responded too quickly, too harshly. 

“I… what?”

“I didn’t… I mean…”

“Don’t call you brother?” She pushed. 

“... Yeah.”

“Does it hurt? When I say it like that?” She grimaced. She hated the idea of hurting him.

“... A little, yeah…”

A pause, and then-

“I won’t anymore, then.” She proclaimed. “From here on out, forevermore, you are my sister.”

She expected her brother - sister, she corrected herself - to react in… some way. She wasn’t sure what she expected, actually. 

But whatever she thought would happen, she didn’t predict him - her? - bursting into tears. 

“Are you okay?” A pause. He - she - kept crying. “Sister…?”

“It’s good,” she finally forced out. “It’s really, really good.”

That was good, then. That was fine. She could work with that

But…

“Sister?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I change too? Can I… be your brother?”

“Yes,” a snap response - not angry, just immediate. An immediate, emphatic yes. He could be her brother, and she could be his sister. And everything…

“Everything can be okay,” he said out loud. 

“Everything can be okay?” His sister - his sister - responded with a question, not a confirmation. 

“Yeah,” he said, the same immediacy to his answer. “Everything can be okay.”

“He’s going to be furious.”

“I don’t care. You're my sister. And I love you. And nothing else matters, gods dammit-”

“Don’t swear!” She admonished, falling into the same thing their father always said when her brother - brother - made the same mistake. 

“Nothing else matters,” he finished. “As long as I have you.”

That was a good enough finish for her. 

“Brother?”

“Yes, sister?”

“I don’t want to be Vax’ildan.”

“Well, I don’t want to be Vex’ahlia. So I propose a trade.” Her brother smirked. 

“A trade?”

“Yeah. A trade. I’ll take your name, and you’ll take mine. I’ll be Vax, and you’ll be Vex - I’ll be your brother, and you’ll be my sister.”

“I’m Vex, he’s Vax,” she said. Her brother - Vax, her brother Vax, the name no longer hers - laughed, a real, loud laugh that they weren’t allowed to do in their father’s presence. 

“I’m Vax, she’s Vex,” he stated, sticking his chin up in the air, proud of himself. 

“I like that, I think.”

“I think I like it too.” He grinned. “So, sister…”

“What, brother?” They were both grinning now, the euphoria of it all setting in. 

“I think it’s time we get out of these clothes. They clearly don’t match us, and that just won’t do.” He giggled again. Vex - that was her name now -  looked at the ground, fidgeting with the fabric. 

“Right?” He pressed, and finally she nodded. 

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Cool,” her brother said, and dragged the dress up over his head, discarding it and moving to pick up the shirt he’d had on before. 

“Not that,” Vex shook her head. “Put this on.” She held out her shirt to her brother - not a blouse, just a shirt with a low, slight collar to it. Far too boyish for her, she thought. But maybe not for him. 

“Trade me, then,” he said, holding the still-too-fancy blouse out to her. Wordlessly, she accepted the offering, tugging it on over her head. 

“This looks so much better,” Vax grinned, turning around from the mirror he’d been looking at himself in. He drew a short gasp when he saw his newly christened sister in the silky fabric of his old clothing. “Oh, you…”

“Is it bad?” She winced. 

“No. No, you look…” he paused, not sure what to say for a moment. Then: “You look pretty.”

“I… do?”

“Yes.” An affirmative nod. 

“I’m pretty…” she smiled. “I’m pretty. I’m pretty!” His sister spun around, the blouse flaring out just a little at the bottom, barely noticeable were it not for the fact that they were both fixated on its existence upon her. 

“You are,” he said, “and I’m dashingly handsome.”

She shoved him, gently, on the shoulder. “Gross,” she giggled. And then… “Father’s going to kill us.”

“Father won’t even notice.”

“He will when you start… growing, and I don’t. Do you really think he wouldn’t catch on before that?”

“Well, considering your voice is still high enough to sound like a girl, and I can lower mine, he definitely won’t notice that. And he doesn’t pay nearly enough attention to us to notice anything else.”

“He’ll find out eventually,” she sighed, a dark look crossing her face. 

“We’ll run away, then.”

What?

“What?” She said out loud. 

“We’ll run away! We’ll pack our things and leave, and go back to Mother. And she’ll love us exactly how we are.”

“Do you really think that will work?”

“It won’t not work.”

She smiled. 

“I’ll have to trust my brother’s advice, then.”

“Don’t worry, sister. I’ll fight off all the terrible beasts in the forests.”

“With what, the kitchen knives you keep stealing?” She laughed. 

“Something like that!” He grinned, puffing out his chest in a distinctly boyish way. 

“Well, you'd better steal some more. And some bags for our things. We’ll need them.”

“We will.”

A pause. 

“Vex?”

“Yes, brother?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. You’re the best brother in the whole world.”

“You’re the best sister in the whole world.”

There was comfort, then, in holding each other, in feeling the fabric on each other’s skin, smooth silk on her and rougher, soft cotton on him. Comfort in knowing what no one else knew - knowing she was Vex, and he was Vax, and they were exactly how they wanted to be. 

They were good at keeping secrets. And someday, they both thought, they wouldn’t have to keep them anymore.

#vax'ildan #vex'ahlia #critical role #the legend of vox machina #tlovm #vox machina #they're both trans your honor

[ijustwant2write]

Causing A Fuss-Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

(GIF credit to @hvitserkk​)

Masterlist

Requested by @elennox03 : Can you write an imagine where Anthony’s wife is pregnant and she’s at the very end of her pregnancy and he is trying to make her stay in bed and rest but she refuses and she’s somewhere in the house and she goes into labor and Anthony freaks out and then after the baby is born a little cute dad Anthony fluff?

Characters: Anthony Bridgerton x Reader, Hyacinth Bridgerton x Reader (sister-in-law), Violet Bridgerton x Reader (mother-in-law)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Pregnancy side effects, labour, mention of blood, fluff fluff fluff

                                     *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Anthony's strides were quick as he explored the house, desperately seeking his wife. Members of staff were ambushed with questions, startled by his tone. When he didn't get the answer he wanted, he would huff and storm off again. Where was his beloved? She wasn't where she was supposed to be.

(Y/N) laid back on the sofa as Hyacinth fanned her, the pregnant woman also fanning herself. She was just too hot, she was tired and her feet felt like they had been hit with a hammer. Her shoes were on the floor, it was far too painful to be wearing them.

"Thank you so much darling." (Y/N) said to her sister-in-law.

"Is it really that bad?" Hyacinth asked.

(Y/N) wanted to say yes. Despite pregnancy being an extraordinary feeling, the emotions and connections you made with your unborn child were confusing, there were quite a few downsides; the sickness, the tiredness, not being able to fit into your dresses or shoes, as well as feeling every single type of emotion everyday. But after seeing the young girls scared face, she knew she couldn't be entirely truthful.

"No, of course not." (Y/N) smiled, sitting up slightly."It can just get a little tiring sometimes. Have you ever held a baby?"

She nodded.

"It was heavier than you imagined, hm? Well, my baby is a little heavy right now. But they will be here soon."

"I'm very excited to meet them. I can't wait to be an auntie!"

(Y/N) melted at that."You'll be an amazing auntie."

"Here you are." Anthony entered the room, relieved to see (Y/N), until he saw what state she was in."What is wrong? Hyacinth, why didn't you fetch for me sooner?"

Anthony rushed to his wife's side, snatching the fan from his sister and fanning his wife. (Y/N) was irritated whenever Anthony was like this, it was sweet that he cared, but her fuse was short. She was resting, not bed ridden.

"I am not returning to bed Anthony. I do not wish to bicker with you." (Y/N) made it clear."I am just hot, that is all."

"The doctor advised that you stay in bed for most of the day-"

"Anthony, I cannot stay cooped up all day, laying down and doing nothing. I would go simply mad. And I have spoken to friends who are or have been pregnant, none of them did that."

"They are not professionally trained."

"That doctor has never carried a baby."

"(Y/N) said it isn't that heavy." Hyacinth spoke up.

Anthony slowly turned his head to his sister. "This is a matter for the grown ups. Go and...play somewhere."

Hyacinth knew better than to argue with Anthony, rolling her eyes before leaving. (Y/N) pursed her lips at her husband's behaviour.

"Did I ever mention how amazing you are with children?"

Anthony smirked."Well, it's a bit late to be getting lessons on childcare, isn't it?"

(Y/N) giggled, taking Anthony's hand and placing it on her bump. Anthony loved touching her growing bump. It had been strange to see his wife changing shape before his eyes. He was so used to her body having run his hands over every angle, seeing it every day from the time they were married. But it made him fall even more in love with her, if that was even possible. Anthony could write a hundred pages expressing his love for his wife, and it would still never be enough.

"I still can't believe we're having a baby." he breathed out.

(Y/N) scoffed."Are you saying I've always looked like this?"

Anthony laughed."Of course not. But no matter how much you talk about such a thing, no matter how much preparation you do, it just seems surreal."

(Y/N) hummed in response, putting her hand on top of his."I've loved carrying them, but it is time for them to come out into the world."

"Still not saying whether it's a boy or girl?"

(Y/N) shook her head."I just don't feel one way about it. Not that I care about that, as long as they're healthy."

"I still say boy."

"You would."

"You just said you didn't care."

"I don't."

"(Y/N), please can you just promise me one thing?"

"Anthony, I am not staying in bed-"

"Stay by my side as much as possible. The baby is due soon and I want to ensure you are safe when the time comes."

"Oh, Anthony, I'm with you for a majority of the day anyway."

"I know but, if there are moments where I am not present, I want to have a sound mind that you are in safe hands, such as family or a member of staff."

"Well, you know I'm not going to be leaving the house, much to my annoyance. So I will be guarded all day and night."

"You're making it sound like you're a prisoner."

"I'm just being dramatic. I just want to meet our child now."

"Well, I can't deny either of those statements."

Anthony wasn't exaggerating when he said he wanted (Y/N) beside him at all times. From then on, they were seen with each other anywhere they went in the house. Anthony didn't go out as much as he did, and he instructed there always be staff in every room and corridor. She didn't mind it, however, as her due date grew closer, the more nervous she became. Unfortunately, that meant her temper was shorter, she became more snappy and tired, and she didn't want everyone constantly reminding her that she was about to give birth. (Y/N) tried so hard to not take it out on her husband, but because he was the one always beside her, he was the only person she could lash out at.

"Anthony, I'm sorry but I just need a few moments alone. I'll return soon, just...let me calm down. I'm sorry." she apologised as she walked away from him, having screamed about how frustrated she was.

She didn't hide her deep breathing as she waddled down the corridors, passing by staff that worryingly watched her. (Y/N) wanted to calm her heart rate, try and clear her mind. Feeling too many eyes on her, (Y/N) escaped into the nearest room, slamming the door shut behind her.

"(Y/N)?" Hyacinth said behind her.

(Y/N) sighed. Would she ever be alone again?

"What are you doing in my playroom? I thought you would be with Anthony."

She was playing with her dolls, three propped up in mini chairs, as was she, as they indulged in an imaginary afternoon tea. (Y/N) couldn't help but smile at that, envisioning her child playing in this room.

"Sorry darling, I just...I needed some time away from the grown ups."

"Oh, alright. Would you like to join us for tea?" she gestured to the chair beside her, causing (Y/N) to laugh.

"I don't think I would fit in that chair, even if I wasn't with child. I'll take the rocking chair. You carry on darling, I'm sorry for the interruption."

Her aching feet carried her to the chair, cautiously lowering down onto it. She rocked her heels back and forth, though did so slowly in case it caused any nausea. Hyacinth continued her game as if (Y/N) wasn't there, but kept her voice quiet to be respectful. (Y/N) closed her eyes, finally feeling the stress lift for just a moment when a jolt of pain in her stomach startled her. It made her let out a cry, clutching onto her bump as she leaned forward. Hyacinth jumped at the sudden noise, suddenly frightened at the way (Y/N) sounded and looked.

(Y/N)'s breathing got faster and deeper, yelling out as an unbearable feeling coursed through her. Her hands wrapped around her torso, willing the feeling to stop. A shocked noise escaped her when she felt herself go wet in the chair, liquid dripping down her legs.

"Hyacinth, get Anthony!" (Y/N) groaned, thankful a staff member rushed in. Hyacinth didn't have to be told twice, running as quickly as she could to fetch her brother. She had never seen anyone in such a state, no one had ever mentioned this pain when having a baby. Tears were in her eyes as she finally found Anthony, who was standing with her two other brothers at the staircase.

"Hyacinth, what's wrong?" Benedict was the first to notice the little girl running towards him.

She immediately grabbed Anthony's hand, gripping tightly onto it."Quickly!"

"What's happened?" Anthony asked her her fretting.

"(Y/N)'s having the baby!"

A second of silence passed before Anthony sprinted in the direction his sister came from. He only had to follow the sound of screaming to find his wife. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen, she was meant to be upstairs in a comfortable position, surrounded by women staff that were prepared. He halted in the doorway when he saw her clutching onto the servant's arm as she struggled to stand from the chair. He snapped an order at another servant who followed him. The doctor had to get here as soon as possible, and the other students needed to prepare immediately.

"It's alright my love, I'm here. The doctor is on his way." Anthony reassured her as he took her other arm.

"I'm in so much pain Anthony." she wept."I can't do it, I can't do it, I don't have control over my own body. I'm frightened!"

Anthony's heart was shattering into a million pieces seeing his wife like this. He couldn't do anything to help. He couldn't ease the pain. If he could, he would take all of the pain she had and endure it himself. Anthony was a mix of emotions; fear for his wife, excitement to meet his child, terrified at (Y/N)'a reactions and noises. It was all too much, nothing would have prepared him for this.

"Anthony, you must leave!" Violet suddenly appeared.

"Mama, I can't leave her-"

"You wouldn’t want to see this Anthony. Go wait for the doctor, we all know what we’re doing here.”

Anthony knew of the steps to take in this event, it was not proper for a man to be present during the ordeal of birthing. But the love for (Y/N) was urging him to stay and protect her, that was what he was supposed to do as a husband, not abandon her. They went through everything together. Now he was being told to leave because of societies rules.

Benedict and Colin were able to pull away Anthony easier than they thought, due to him being frozen and confused about what he should do. He only registered that (Y/N) was calling for him after they left the room. Fighting against his brothers hold, he ignored their please for him to stop. They didn’t understand. They weren’t married, they had no idea what it was like to be bonded with someone in this way. However, he knew they were right, he had to stay away. All he could do now was help her from outside of the room.

“Where is the doctor?!” he demanded to know from the nearest servant.

“H-he has b-been called upon, Lord Bridgerton.” they stuttered.

“As soon as he arrives, he is to be brought here, quickly! Gather pillows, as many as you can, and blankets, we must ensure my wife is as comfortable as she can be. She should have been giving birth in a bed!”

Benedict and Colin stood back in silence, shocked by the quick turn around in their brother’s behaviour. They didn’t dare say anything in case they were snapped at. 

(Y/N) was clinging onto Violet’s hand as she screamed, hating the way her body had taken over and she couldn’t take back control. Violet remained calm, knowing that (Y/N) could do this. She had birthed all of her children with no complications, she knew how much women had to endure, so Violet was equipped with the necessary grit and vigour to help her daughter-in-law. (Y/N) was grateful to have Violet there.

A gruelling eight hours passed, filled with (Y/N) screaming, crying, cursing, pleading and begging for Anthony. It took every ounce of his willpower to not dash back to her, he would never forgive himself for this. He wished he could change the rules so he could be beside her. He paced with a strong drink in his hand for those eight hours, his brothers sitting down, trying to support him. However, it was getting late, and they found themselves struggling to keep their eyes open. Anthony had got rid of his jacket, sleeves rolled up and shirt buttons undone as he got warm, fretting over what was happening to (Y/N). 

“Lord Bridgerton!” a servant exclaimed as they entered the room, trying to stay composed. 

The men perked up, suddenly awake. Anthony noticed the servant was smiling, which made him relieved.“What is it?”

“Lady Bridgerton has given birth.”

Anthony didn’t need to hear anything else. He instantly ran to where his poor wife had been in labour. Hyacinth would never step foot in that room again. He pushed past anyone that got in his way, halting at the open doors to the playroom. The first thing he saw was blood, a lot of it, alarmed at the sight. But as he entered the room, it was forgotten about when he saw (Y/N)’s grin aimed at the baby wriggling around in her arms. His steps were slow as he approached, scared that he would disturb the peace that had finally fallen in this room. 

“Anthony.” (Y/N) breathed out, clearly exhausted. 

“I’m sorry.” was all Anthony could manage, eyes still fixed on his child. 

“For what?”

“For not being here.”

“You’re here now, and I understand darling. Now come meet your son.”

Anthony’s eyes widened.“I-I have a son? We have a baby boy?”

The doctor who had been crouched beside (Y/N) smiled at the Lord, standing to give the couple their space.“Yes, Lord Bridgerton, you’re now a father and have a son, who is very healthy, just like his mother.”

Violet also backed away, beaming down at her eldest son. She had never imagined him married and settled down so quickly, she expected to have many more years of her son fooling around with women not of a certain standard. Once (Y/N) waltzed in, Violet had seen a change in Anthony, and hope was restored in the Viscount.

“He’s finally here.” (Y/N) smiled as Anthony sat beside her.

“He really is.” one of his arms wrapped around her shoulders, whilst the other supported her arms holding the baby.“You’re amazing. You did this (Y/N).”

“We did it.”

“No, no, you did this all by yourself. I’ll be with you every time form now on.”

“Every time? How many are you planning to have?”

He chuckled.“We’ll discuss that later.”

(Y/N) giggled, gently kissing the top of their baby’s forehead. Anthony couldn’t stop smiling, repeating (Y/N)’s actions to her. He had never envisioned this, he didn’t want to be trapped in this life at first. He had so many responsibilities dumped on him after his father died, he wanted to make sure his family was secure and have the freedom for himself; until he met (Y/N), and suddenly, he could see his entire future planned in front of him with this woman. He never fathomed that his heart could give anymore love for anyone else in this world, and he had been proven wrong. (Y/N) was the love of his life, as was his son, and he would protect and cherish them for the rest of his life. 

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton imagines #anthony bridgerton one shot #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton fan fiction #anthony bridgerton fanfic #anthony bridgerton fan fic #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton imagines #bridgerton one shot #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fan fiction #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton fan fic

[sevendeadlymorons]

Requests oh oh ohhhhh hcs for an MC who [insert brother here] just cannot seem to like. They always end up saying the wrong thing at the wrong time with them, but they genuinely do like that brother and want to improve their relationship despite failing every time they try

This one’s cool, I’ll give it a go :))

Brothers Who Just Can’t Seem to Like MC

WARNING: Angst // Possible Emotional Abuse

———————————————

Lucifer

He doesn’t understand why, but there’s just something about you that he can’t stand

He doesn’t understand your humour, or the way you talk and present yourself, it’s all so odd to him and he finds himself wanting to ignore you more and more

He finds you laughing at the worst times, and it infuriates him in a way that he’s trying his hardest not to just turn into his demon form right there and then and end your life

You always follow him around and try and talk to him and sometimes offer to help him with work but he just... can’t with you. Your voice leaves him with a headache

Brushes you off every single time, he wants nothing to do with you and he will make that very clear to you

He always notices how upset you look whenever he turns you down or pushes you away though. He supposed he has been a little harsh towards you. He doesn’t even know you properly, after all!

One time, he gives in and accepts your help and watches your face light up, and for a spilt second, he feels a small smile tug on his lips at how happy you looked

He still wasn’t too sure of you, and you still got on his nerves, but it was a start for him

Mammon

Ever since he first saw you, he knew you’d be a pest

He was stuck babysitting you, so of course he’s not exactly going to take kindly to you

Ever single time you came up to him with that obnoxious look on your face asking him for help, he pushes you away. He has better things to do than help some human

He doesn’t want to get to know you. He doesn’t even want to be around you. Your voice was starting to be his least favourite thing

You were such an air head, and everytime you messed up, he had to deal with it

If you did something, he’d be the one to get in trouble and he just couldn’t stand that

But then came a day where he didn’t see you; you didn’t come to him asking for help and you didn’t wave him hello in the morning. You were just gone?

Perhaps it was the fear of getting in trouble for losing the exchange student, or perhaps it was... care? He didn’t understand until he found himself running to your room and finding you upset on your bed and he suddenly felt bad, rushing to your side to check on you

Leviathan

From the very start, you were just a pawn to him. A way to get the things he wanted with that pact you made with Mammon

You were a useless pushover of a human and he wanted nothing to do with you

Everything you said irritated him and he quickly saw you as weak and stupid, often throwing insults at you without mercy

Even that sad look you had in your eyes when he was insulting you pissed him off

Being around you was like having a second Mammon to deal with, he hated it and every moment he spent around you made him want to rip out his own hair

Well, he did think that way, until he overheard you talking about one of his favourite anime’s from the human world. He always classed you as a normie, so to hear this changes things

Musters up enough courage to just let it all out and speak his mind about anime to you, and to his surprise, you seemed to enjoy it; watching the sad frown disappear from your face gradually.

Maybe you weren’t so bad after all...

Satan

You just weren’t worthy of his time, really

Everything you said gave him a headache, why did you have to be so loud all the damn time?

On several occasions, he’s just gotten up and left whenever you entered the room, he simply just didn’t want to be around you

If you approached him, he’d ignore you. If you spoke to him, he’d ignore you. There was nothing you could do to get his attention

Looking sad won’t phase him either, you think he cares?

Everything that came out your mouth sounded stupid to him, even if it wasn’t, he couldn’t care less, he saw you as so much less than him

So that’s why he was pretty surprised to see you sitting in his chair reading one of his books. His favourites, to be exact. Did you actually listen in on his conversation about his favourite novels earlier...?

Sat down right next to you and started talking about it, letting the words just flow as you nod with a huge smile on your lips. He’d never had someone just listen and understand. It felt... nice...

Asmodeus

He could never even begin to describe how much he despised how boring and plain you were

You never wanted to go to clubs, you didn’t drink, and you were seemingly immune to all his charms, and that just pissed him off

Constantly threw subtle insults at you whenever he could and made you fully aware that he was ignoring you and that he did not want to be around you for any longer than he needed to be

If he was stuck with you, he’d give you sarcastic responses and these cold dagger eyes. He felt like his entire mood just plummets around you

He’d start complaining like a teenage girl whenever you began talking to him. Not only insulting your personality, but eventually your looks too

Almost felt disgusted being around you?? Like how dare you talk to him. Someone like you shouldn’t even be looking at him

But seeing you so distraught every single time he’d insult you and watching you slowly begin to hate yourself whenever you looked in the mirror, actually really hurt him more than he cares to admit. He doesn’t know why he hates you, it’s not like he wants to, he just does

So decides to take you out shopping one day, because if you want to get to known someone better, what better than going out to buy shit that you both don’t need?

Beelzebub

He couldn’t stand you from the very start

You just asked so many questions, personal ones, it made him angry and he wasn’t afraid to show that

He saw the fear he created in your eyes every time he raises his voice so decides to stop because you truly weren’t worth any of his energy

Actively avoids you. If you follow him to the gym, he’ll turn away from you and put in his headphones to block you out

Whenever he talks though, it’s like there’s nothing there in his eyes. He really doesn’t see you two as equals

Threatens to eat you just to get you to leave him alone

One day, after being scolded and refused dinner by Lucifer, he heard a little knock on his door and when he opened it, there you stood; a tray full of food in your hands

He caught himself smiling at you after realising how kind you actually are to him and he’s been pushing you away for no reason. Perhaps you could sit with him while he eats for a bit

Belphegor

He hates humans, you were no exception

Every single word that came out of your mouth made him wish he’d murdered you the first time

Whenever you attempted to greet him in the morning, he’d walk away or pretend to go to sleep

When he’s around you it just reminded him of Lilith, he couldn’t be around you. He just couldn’t

He knew there was no reason to hate you, but he couldn’t stop himself and he hates that his twin had walmed up to you so quickly even after everything that happened

He’s snarky and sarcastic towards you, constantly insulting you and even blaming you for his sisters death at times, enjoying the look of guilt and pain that flashes through your eyes every single time

But one day, he decides to take a nap up in the attic, only to find you snuggled up in his bed, cuddling all his blankets. He felt rage for a few seconds until he began to feel something else...

He didn’t know what snapped in him but the way you looked so sad as you slept and how you clutched to his blankets like they were a comforting safety to you made him sorta realise how badly he’d been treating you

Well, he’s always wanted a cuddling partner...

This was awful to write, it certainly was not cool. Ouch, writing the boys like this made me feel pain...

Part 2 is here

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me mc #obey me mammon #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me asmodeus #obey me lucifer #obey me beelzebub #obey me angst

[thespoonisvictory]

excerpt from my “niki and wilbur secret city healing fic” that I will never actually finish:

“You’re not eating.”

It’s Niki, standing in the doorway, a plate of food tucked to her side, eyes narrowed and posture stiff.

“Yes, I am.”

It’s Wilbur, facing the wall, slouched on a bed, in that grimy coat he refused to be without.

“No, you’re not.”

It’s them, somewhere between open hostility and practiced ambivalence, a sad parody of a bond once inseparable. It’s them, unable to carry a full conversation. It’s them, alone, in Niki’s city, where Niki begs him to heal and Wilbur begs to leave.

Niki sighed, pushing forward into the room. “You need to eat, surely you’re not dense enough to forget that.”

“I have been.” Wilbur snaps, but it lacks any sort of fire. Increasingly prominent cheekbones, clothes that hung looser with every passing day, and the dullness of his eyes and hair betrayed him, and they were both aware. The wounds that littered his body refused to recover, and every action was done so with a tired resignation.

“Don’t lie to me.” Niki takes another step forward. “You were never any good at it.”

It was true. The honeyed words that hid him from others never managed quite as well for her. It was too easy to see her friend underneath the persona, the earnestness and raw, organic smile he flashed to her when others weren’t looking.

 It had made her feel special, then, to be privy to the most undone version of him. To feel known and to know, without reservation. To be the subject of sleep-deprived rambles on the floor of her bakery, a pastry and warm drink between them. To hear his new obsessions, to have facts pulled out of her like strings plucked on a guitar. To be something lovely and untouched, together, a friendship unmuddied by the ever-present politics weighing on their shoulders.

Now, it makes her feel lied to.

She watches his shoulders shrug in acknowledgement, and he slowly turns to face her. The movement seems almost painful, a slow and awkward rearranging of limbs, and he refuses to meet her eyes.

“Why do you care, then?” Wilbur rasped, quiet.

“I don’t.” Niki lied. “But Phil wouldn’t take kindly to me letting his son die of starvation.”

His face tightened, almost imperceptibly. The battle won.

“Leave it here, Niki. I’ll eat later.” And a hand outstretched, bones prominent, pale.

On another day, in another world, she would have believed him.

She had believed him, once. Left meals and plates on his desk when he wasn’t looking, waited for them to disappear. It had made her feel needed, wanted. To know that she was the one helping him, indulging his long shifts and hours spent at that old, wooden desk. To be thanked, silently, with wildflowers left in her bakery, with little gifts to amuse her, with contact, trusting, hands held and hair fixed, buttons done up with care.

Now, it felt like a test. A reference point, to check that they were still bound together. Now, she didn’t believe him.

“Eat it now.” Niki’s voice held steady, thankfully.

She wanted the exchange over with, painless.

But Wilbur froze, hand retreating quickly. He swallowed, throat bobbing.

“No.”

“What?” Niki questioned, bitter. “Just take the food, Wil.” The nickname fell flat on her tongue.

“No.” He repeated, more fervently than before.

“Why?” Another step forward.

“I said no, Niki. I’ll eat it later.”

“And I said, tell me why.” Another, and another, until they were close enough that she heard his sharp intake of breath.

She leaned down to meet his gaze, and was met with not the fire she was expecting, but an unfiltered desperation. A fear.

“Don’t make me say it. Just leave the food, please.” Wilbur’s voice shook, laced with a vulnerability she had heard so few times.

He had recounted the button room to her, one night. He had walked into her bakery earlier to be met with Eret, his fingers covered in flour. His face had dropped and he had walked out immediately, stony, leaving Niki to wonder what happened. There they had sat, wine-drunk, under the stars, under darkness that allowed his features to relax and his words to be honest.

It was decidedly one of her favorite versions of her friend, sentences soft and mumbled like poetry as he recounted why he paled at the sight of her new friend, eyes shining with unshed tears. She wondered if he remembered that.

“Tell me.” 

She just wanted to leave.

Wilbur’s voice softened. “It’s poisoned, isn’t it?”

“What?” Of the reasons she was suspecting, this was not one.

“I- I don’t know for sure, but I can’t trust it.” His voice wavered, trying to maintain composure. “What if you poisoned it? What if you slipped it in, decided to get rid of me?”

“Wil, I-”

“I can’t go back there, Niki.” His hands grabbed the fabric making up his quilt, brow furrowed. “I won’t go back there. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Shocked, Niki tentatively moved past him, sat down on the mattress, set down the plate. The silence lay steadily as she grasped for words.

“It’s not poisoned. I could never- would never do that to you.”

“I would, if I were you.” A confession, quiet. “I’d want me dead too.”

A deep sadness settled into Niki’s gut, replacing the anger she had always carried. “I don’t want you dead, Wil. I want you to heal.” She paused. “I want my friend back.”

“I’m right here.” A plea, even quieter. For what, she didn’t know.

“Just- eat, please. You might feel better.”

A phrase repeated so many times before. She had offered him food countless times in Pogtopia, pressed fruits and dried meat into his hands, concerned for his tired eyes and jerky movements. He had accepted, if rarely. It had made her feel accomplished. To know that she had done what his brothers could not. To know she had made a difference, perhaps, to know that the last remnants of before were not yet gone. To be partners in crime again, if fleeting.

“I can’t.” 

Niki sighed.

She picked up a slice of bread off the plate, thick, filled with herbs and nuts. Watching his eyes follow her, she raised it to her mouth, taking a bite. She swallowed.

His eyes widened slightly as she offered it out to him, fingers betraying him in the subtle way they reached out, wanting.

Without warning, he grabbed it, holding it tentatively. After a pause, he took a bite as well. And another. Another. Within minutes, the slice was gone. 

Suddenly, Niki was stifling a laugh, a smile dancing on her face. Wilbur turned to her, innocently confused, his eyes wide.

“What?” He questioned, and oh his tone was light.

She couldn’t contain it anymore, and burst out laughing, giggling, doubled over. The ridiculousness of it all got to her, and the tension broke as he started smiling despite himself.

“It was good bread!” He protested.

Niki went to stand up. “I have more, if you want.”

But Wilbur waved his hand, shook his head. “No, I’m like, very full right now.”

She nodded, another chuckle escaping her. Without thinking about it, she leaned into his shoulder, pressing them together like she always had.

For a moment, it all felt so normal again. Like they had slid right back into familiar camaraderie, teasing, shedding the weight that had plagued them. It could have been minutes or hours theu sat there, both of them soaking in the contact.

“Later tonight, then.”

“Yeah.” His voice was still small, but soft, stable, almost drowsy.

Wilbur confirmed her suspicions as he spoke. “I’m really sleepy, for some reason.” His posture was more relaxed than she had seen it in years.

“Go to bed, then.” Niki suggested.

He nodded, but his eyes were dark.

“Can you?” She prompted.

“Not usually.” Mumbling, as always. “I just lay there, mostly, thinking about my evil plots, scheming. You know the deal.” 

“Try. You might be lucky this time.”

He huffed. “Ok.”

Niki stood, ready to leave, but paused. “Let me take your coat, Wil.”

Wilbur stilled, and she was so sure he would say no, reject the offer. But after a moment, he began shrugging it off, shedding the mottled fabric.

He offered it out to her, and as she took it she could feel the familiar weight, draping it over her arm. 

He looked so much smaller this way. Sat on the guest bed, hair rumpled, dressed simply in a white button down, he looked younger, too, less official.

“I’ll be back in a few hours, I have some errands to run. Business to attend to. I’ll bring some more of that bread, too.”

Wilbur nodded, eyes blinking slowly as he yawned.

She turned around, pausing in the doorway to see her friend one last time. She shut the door gently.

#nihachu #wilbur soot #dream smp #fanfiction #me procrastinating the loh fic go brr

[cloudy-minded-idiot]

secrets

pairing: Shuri x reader

warnings: none that I could think of

word count: ~2,200 words

a/n: requested by @junajackson. sorry that it took me so long to write this! between uni and having to evacuate my appartment for a while, I really didn’t have a lot of freetime to write. I hope you like it :)

summary: shuri comes to visit the avengers compound, and your teammates dicover that you’ve been secretly dating the Wakandan princess for a while now. 

The sun was already starting to rise by the time you returned to the compound, bathing the sky in a light pink hue. It was a pretty sight for your sore eyes. You felt drained, the way you often did after a mission. You had been gone for almost a week without being able to contact anyone, getting very little sleep as you had to fight your way out of one mess after the other. Ultimately, the mission was a success but exhausted as you were, you didn’t have it in you to celebrate.  

You were welcomed back by an agent who briefly reminded you when your mission report would be due. You muttered out a confirmation and made a beeline for your room, stripping yourself from your dirty clothes and jumping under the shower. Cleaning up made you feel a lot better, and the warm water did wonders for your aching muscles. Dressed in something comfortable, you walked to your bedroom, ready to call it a day and catch some sleep. You had barely covered yourself with a blanket when a disembodied voice interrupted the tranquility of your room.  

“Mr. Stark has requested your presence in the common room.”  

Burying your head in your pillow, you let out a groan.  

“Do I have to?”  

Even to your own ears, your voice sounded whiney. The AI refrained from commenting on that, though.  

“Mr. Stark is giving you five minutes to get to the common room and advises you to make yourself look presentable.”  

Grumbling out some incoherent swear words, you stumbled out of bed and slowly got changed and pulled on some shoes. After assuring your hair looked alright, you made the small track to the common room. Tony looked up when you entered but, seeing your glare, refrained from making whatever stupid comment he had on the tip of his tongue.  

Silently he passed you a cup of coffee which you received with a grateful nod. Taking a sip of the dark fluid, you let its warmth and the caffeine wash over you.  

“How was your mission?” Tony asked tentatively, almost as if scared you would snap at him. 

“Long and exhausting. I had to ditch my phone and comms the first day and barely had time to sleep or eat,” you took another long sip of your drink before throwing him a side glance, “I really hope for the sake of you that this is important.”  

Tony was quick to assure you that it was, perhaps fearing that you would lose your cool otherwise. And yes, you were tired, but you were not irrational. The worst you would do is hit him in the arm and cuss him out, maybe prank him, later on, to get even.  

“Important visitors are arriving from Wakanda today. We’re doing a bit of collaborative work on a new suit, improve some of my technology, etcetera. I need someone to show them around while I’m at a meeting with Fury. Think you’re up for that?”  

You visibly perked up once you heard about Wakanda. You were more than familiar with their technology. After all, you were dating the head of their science and information department, although Tony didn’t know that. No one on the team did. After all, it hadn’t been until very recently that Wakanda decided to open up to the world and share its knowledge and technology. So, naturally, secrecy had to be part of the deal at the beginning of your relationship. And since then, you had just never found the time or the opportunity to broach the subject.  

“I think I'll manage.”  

Tony patted your shoulder with a grateful nod.  

“Good. I know you’re tired, but I'll owe you one after this,” he said, distractedly checking his watch as he spoke, “I gotta run. Can’t keep Fury waiting any longer. Tell the Wakandans I'll be back by lunchtime. Keep them entertained until then, alright?”  

At your affirmation, Tony thanked you and left you alone in the common room. You made yourself a second cup of coffee, already feeling better than before. That might also have something to do with the excitement of knowing your girlfriend might be coming to visit. After all, she was the head of the technology and information exchange program, so it would only make sense for her to be the one arriving today.  

When FRIDAY alerted you that the Wakandan jet was preparing to land, you were out of your seat and down at the landing lane in no time. Some agents threw you weird looks, but you couldn’t care less. The plane had just shut off its engine when you arrived, waiting a couple of feet away to leave enough space for the small boarding ramp.  

First to step off the jet, were two Dora Milaje carrying their standard sonic spear and serious expressions. The two warriors remained at either side of the door, eyeing the terrain with watchful eyes. Your own were fixed on the door while practically bouncing on the back of your feet in anticipation. As soon as you recognized the silhouette of your girlfriend in the doorway, you couldn’t help the big goofy smile that came to your face.  

Her eyes trailed over the small airport before finally landing on you. Face lighting up, she matched your grin with one of her own. It had been so long since you had last seen Shuri in person, your heart stammered a bit just at the sight of her. The Wakandan princess quickly descended the ramp, immediately engulfing you in a hug that you returned just as fiercely.  

“I was not sure you would be here when I arrived,” she admitted, releasing you just enough so that she could really look at your face, “I haven’t heard from you since you left for your mission a week ago.”  

She gave you a playfully reproachful look, causing you to grimaced sheepishly.  

“I just came back an hour ago. I would have called, but sadly my phone was one of the few casualties of my mission. Anyways,” stepping back a little, you cleared your throat and jokingly bowed slightly before your girlfriend, continuing in a mockingly formal tone.  

“Princess Shuri, I have the honor to officially welcome you and the Dora Milaje to the Avengers Compound. Sadly, Mr. Stark will not be available for the next hours. Until then, I can offer you a tour of the parameters, if you like?”  

You held out your hand in silent offer.  

She bowed her head in thanks, lightly putting her hand on yours.  

“Why thank you, we would appreciate that very much.”  

Unable to keep up the show any longer, you both started to giggle before you motioned for her to come along.cHolding hands, you walked her through the most important parts of the compound, ending the tour in the main lab that Tony liked to use. Shuri looked around with an appraising gaze, silently evaluating the different pieces of equipment and machinery as you leaned against the table in the center of the room.

“Not as good as what I have at home, but it will do,” was her verdict, and you laughed slightly.  

“Don’t tell Tony that, or he might be tempted to renovate again. He likes to pride himself on having the best of everything.”  

“Oh, but he has already admitted that I have the better tech, has he not? Or I wouldn’t be here.”  

“True,” you conceded, “So what do you guys have planned? You’re not going to make him a vibranium suit, are you?”  

She shook her head, joining you on your side of the table, “We were more thinking along the line of nanotechnology. Something like my brother's Black Panther suit. Easy to carry around, quick to put on. Much more practical.”  

You rubbed the back of your neck, trying to sound nonchalant as you asked your next question.  

“So, how long do you suppose this would take?”

She hummed, taking a couple of steps closer to you.  

“Two, three days at most,” she said, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling your closer, “But for you, I might stretch it out a little. Give us more time together.”  

You smiled adoringly at her, leaning in to press a long kiss to her lips. She returned it eagerly, letting out a content sigh. You really had missed her, more than you could ever put into words. And obviously, that sentiment was shared. After a few moments, you pulled apart to catch your breath, resting your foreheads together, breath mingling in the space between you. You stayed like that for a while, just content to hold each other and be close again.  

“Almost forgot, I have something for you,” she whispered after a minute, releasing you to reach into her pocket.  

“Oh, uh, I didn’t get you any gifts,” you muttered out, a bit embarrassed. She dismissed your worry with a shake of her head. Taking your hand in hers, she slid something onto your wrist. Shuri watched you with anticipation as you slowly realized what it was.  

“You made me a Kimoyo bracelet?”  

Your eyes were probably wide as saucers, a finger tentatively trailing over the engravings on the vibranium beads. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw her nod.  

“It’s easier for me to contact you with this than on one of your old school grandpa phones, and I thought it might be useful to you on your missions. It’s no big deal, really.”  

She shrugged at the end, trying to play this gesture off. You looked up at her in wonder, quite aware that despite her words, this was, in fact, quite a big deal. For one, vibranium was really expensive. For another, Wakandans weren’t known for just handing out Kimoyo beads to anyone. This not only demonstrated how much she trusted you but also that she believed that the two of you were in this for the long run. Your adoration must have shown on your face because Shuri immediately groaned.  

“Oh no, I know that look. Don’t you start getting sentimental on me,” she warned you without any malice. You smiled at her softly, unable to do anything about your expression.  

“I won’t, I promise.”  

She rolled her eyes playfully, overdramatically throwing her hands up in the air.  

“You’re already doing it. Alright, I’m outta here.”  

The Wakandan princess turned to go, but you gently took her hand and pulled her back into an embrace.  

“I love you, Shuri,” you told her, your voice conveying all the emotions you felt. Her expression softened at your admission, and she leaned in to give you a small kiss.  

“I love you, too, you big sap.”  

“What's going on here?”  

Both of you blinked in confusion, slowly turning to look at the door without letting go of each other. In the entrance of the lab, staring at you with faces ranging from shock to confusion and surprise, stood Tony, Steve, and Natasha.  

You cleared your throat, feeling your face heat up, and slowly let go of Shuri, still keeping one of her hands in yours.  

“Hey, what are you guys doing here?”  

Steve was the one that spoke up, vaguely gesturing towards your girlfriend.  

“We came to formally welcome the Princess.”  

“Looks like Y/n has done enough welcoming for us all,” Natasha muttered, only snickering when Steve sent her a reproachful look for her comment. Tony was still regarding you flabbergasted.  

“You,” Tony took off his ever-present sunglasses motioning between you and Shuri, “And her? Since when?”

“Shuri and I have been dating for almost a year now.”  

“A year?” Tony repeated incredulously

“Back when Wakanda ‘s borders were still closed to the world,” Shuri sonfirmed, “With all the secrecy surrounding our technology, Y/n and I thought it would be best to keep our relationship secret too.”  

“And after that, I just didn’t know how to tell you guys,”  you added sincerely.

Tony looked as though he was about to ask more questions, but luckily Cap intervened, flashing you a smile.  

“Well, I’m happy for you two. You look like you're happy together.”  

Shuri squeezed your hand encouragingly, knowing how nervous you had been, not knowing how the team would react. Having the Captain’s blessing, even if you didn’t really need it, was appreciated.  

“Thanks, Steve.”  

“At least this explains why you’ve been having so many late-night phone calls. Good for you,” Natasha teased you, her words having the desired effect of making you groan in embarrassment.  

“I guess I’m happy for you, too,” Tony admitted reluctantly after being prompted byone of Steve's stern looks, “But I'll be much happier after your girlfriend helps me with my suit. So shoo, out of the lab. Play time's over, let's get working.”  

The billionaire made a motion for you all to leave, Natasha and Steve complying readily, saying their goodbyes to Shuri. Rolling your eyes, you followed his demand as well, but not without leaning in to kiss Shuri’s cheek.  

“I'm beat anyways. I haven’t slept in a minute.”  

She released your hand with one last small squeeze.  

“Get some rest. I'll see you later.”  

You were barely out of the lab when, much to Tony’s dismay, you heard Shuri brag about her own lab's much better equipment. You still had a fond smile on your face by the time you finally laid down in your bed.  

___________________________________________

taglist: @fireflyglass @madamevirgo @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ @penparkz​

#shuri x reader #marvel reader insert #request

[kuroo-shitsurou]

Shooting Stars (Childe x Fem!Reader)

note: honestly, no one asked for this. this is obviously self-indulgent, but god FUCK do i love that ginger fatui man so much.

word count: 2.6k

"Careful now."

Childe's voice was calming, much like the gust of wind that blew past your hair. You saw his hand in front of you and you gladly grasped it, heart racing at the idea of falling to your death. The wind was calm and the air was refreshing, but there was nothing light about the pit in your stomach screaming at you to just carefully glide back down to the foot of the mountain you two were climbing.

"You aren't going to die, dear." He laughed, amused at the sight of your face.

"And what if I do? Childe, this isn't funny!" Your knees were planted firmly on one of the floating rocks just above Qingyun Peak. You grimaced at how the moss scraped against your bare knees, but you felt paralyzed with fear at the thought of falling because you knew better than to trust your clumsy nature.

"I'm not letting you fall. Trust me!" The genuine concern and reassurance in his voice was masked with his charming playfulness, and you couldn't help but sigh and stand up to follow him up to the floating island up ahead.

Childe requested to occupy your entire day earlier that morning, saying something about him showing you a beautiful sight that's sure to take your breath away. You agreed, entertaining his idea of a beautiful sight. After sparring with him in the golden house, eating a sumptuous lunch at Wanmin Restaurant, then sparring with him again, you two headed over to Qingyun Peak. The sun was about to set, and your eyes were mesmerized by how the purple hues above your head covered the entirety of Liyue.

The golden hour was nearly over, and here you were, scared out of your mind, with Childe leading you up a path of floating rock chunks that you were sure would collapse if two of you stepped on one at the same time. However, much to your surprise, they didn't.

"I've got you, okay?" Your companion's voice rang in your ears, and you didn't notice that he stepped down from his current platform to take his rightful place beside you. His right hand was still holding yours, and he used his free hand to rub gentle circles on your lower back to comfort you. You breathed in his scent- a mix of dried sweat and blood with a hint of his perfume clinging to the fabric of his collar. It was a familiar scent, something that soothed you despite being thousands of feet in the air with no stable architecture to calm your nerves. You just had to trust that the Adepti architectures knew what they were doing when they built this pavilion.

"Okay," You whispered to him.

Surprisingly, the climb was easier than you initially expected. It did help that Childe was almost carrying you the rest of the way, but leaning into him was inevitable and unavoidable. It wasn't because you wanted to be buried deeper into his chest while he held you close to the point that the exposed skin on your lower back was starting to burn because his clothed fingers were just lingering there. No, definitely not that. You were simply prioritizing your safety.

"See? It wasn't that hard, right?"

"You could have told me that we'd be heading to the pavilion. I could have mentally prepared myself for the climb."

"Mentally prepare? I'm quite sure that clinging onto me the whole time put you at ease, hm?" You wanted to wipe the smug grin off his pretty face.

"Shut up before I make you, fatui."

He let out a hearty laugh, throwing his head back and clutching his sides.

"You're honestly too adorable for your own good." He stepped closer and moved the hair out of your face as you felt another strong breeze blow by.

"I said shut it!" You felt a rush of heat spread across your cheeks as his eyes scanned your flustered figure.

"Here, take a seat." He motioned to the stone seat facing the sunset. "I did tell you that I'd show you a beautiful sight tonight."

"I trust your taste, so it better be worth it."

"When have I ever lied to you?"

You shot him a look. As you were about to open your mouth to speak, he quickly interjected with a defeated sigh.

"Don't even answer that." You could only chuckle as he sat down beside you, inching closer and closer until your shoulders were brushing against each other. This wasn't really the first time that you and him have been this close with each other.

You and Childe have a... complex relationship, simply put. It's not like you were dating, but the way he treated you- with respect, with care, with love; You wanted to melt in his arms as easily as you could fight him with your sword. You weren't really sure if Childe had romantic feelings for you because he never really talked about it, but you could only go off on his actions, and they directed to the one conclusion that he did have feelings for you.

However, as your former partner in research, Albedo, once said, "Do not assume unless stated otherwise. Logic and officiality back facts as much as they debunk assumptions." In reality, it was so easy to understand. Theoretically, it was easier. However, now that you were there in that position where all signs pointed to Childe having romantic feelings for you, you didn't know what to believe in.

Did you want to trust your gut instinct, or did you want to wait until Childe made it official and clear? It was a mindboggling situation for you because you also found yourself enamored by him.

Why... Why were you even enamored in the first place?

Maybe it was because you adored how he talked about his family. You could just listen to him for hours on end as he fondly tells you the tales of his adventures with Tonia, Anthon, and Teucer. It was the way that his deep cerulean eyes lit up whenever you asked about short anecdotes about his family that he could comfortably share with you. He adored his family so much that it made you feel... jealous. Aether was your only family, and you were still on the pursuit to finding him, so you were envious of how Childe could still visit his family back in Snezhnaya if he wanted to. You? You weren't even sure if your brother was still in Teyvat.

Maybe it was how he always tended to your wounds after each time you sparred. Although Childe claims that he's nothing more than a bloodthirsty hound who wishes for nothing but power and glory, he really can't stand seeing you with an open wound or a bleeding nose. While Childe is primarily the reason behind your injuries, he'd also be the first to bring you gauzes, band-aids, and medicine from Bubu Pharmacy. You'd always be touched since he tends to you first before he paid any mind to the bruises and cuts that adorned his skin.

"Your health is my priority, comrade. After all. who else could match my skills in combat if not you? That's why you better take care of yourself, or better yet, allow me to take care of you instead." His words echoed in your head, and you blushed, realizing the possible implications of his statement.

Maybe it was his surprisingly sharp memory. Though Childe could never compare to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's Consultant, Zhongli, he would often shock you at how he remembered things so well- especially when it came to you. One time, for your birthday, he bought you a necklace with your birthstone as the main gem adorning the fabric. You only ever mentioned your birthday once, and it was at an awkward moment during Hu Tao's birthday celebration, that's why you didn't think Childe would remember it at all.

"I pay attention to you more than you think, dear. I also happen to store things in my memory bank if they're that important to me." You remembered how he laughed as he insisted on putting the necklace on for you. Your hand instinctively latched on to the beautiful gem resting on your chest.

Maybe it was the way he called for your name. Whether he said your name in a battle cry, as a greeting, or in the middle of him teasing you, you were absolutely intoxicated with the way that your name rolled off his tongue. The way the syllables just always seemed so right when it was Childe who spoke them. Often, he would call you comrade, dear, or another endearing nickname he managed to create on the fly. However, when he spoke your name, it was always magical for you.

"Happy birthday, dear _____. I hope you enjoy this present!"

"It seems as though you've defeated me today. No matter, _____. I'm sure I'll triumph over you tomorrow."

"You look lovely as always, _____. Want to spar with me?"

"_____."

"_____."

"_____."

You were snapped out of your little daze. Your name being called over and over again wasn't just a hallucination caused by your infatuation with the eleventh harbinger. He was actually calling for you.

"Hey, _____? Are you feeling okay?" You blinked a few times before you realized that his blue eyes were practically puncturing your own. They were glazed over with concern, a sign that he had been calling you for a while now.

"O-Oh, I'm sorry!" You jolted, straightening your posture. "I was just fascinated by the sky, is all. I didn't mean to startle you."

"The sky, you say? Were you really thinking of the sky? Perhaps you were thinking about me instead?" His tone was teasing, a little more relaxed now that he knew you weren't feeling ill.

"The sunset was lovely. Although I see it everyday in Liyue Harbor, viewing it from up here in the pavilion is truly sensational. Thank you, Childe." You spoke, ignoring his attempt at riling you up. Of course, you were also ignoring the fact that he hit the nail right on the head with his guess.

"You didn't deny it, girlie." His voice was like a melody in your ears, a sweet harmony that made you feel elated. Anyway, why would you deny it? You were a woman of principle, which means you detested lying. It doesn't count as lying if you neither confirmed nor denied his guess, right? Right, keep telling yourself that.

"Don't flatter yourself." Your curt reply was met by another laugh.

"It should be anytime now," His words met the wind and your unknowing ears.

"What is?"

"Let's just wait for a few moments. I took you up here to see something more than just the sunset, after all." He gave you a wink, to which you just huffed and turned your crimson face.

A few moments passed, and Childe was already bouncing his leg up and down; Something you knew he only did when he was anxious or frustrated about something.

"Is something the matter?" You asked, watching his face grimace.

"Ah, perhaps my predictions were wrong." He stood up to stretch. "We were supposed to see something more than just the sunset, but perhaps Celestia just didn't want our little date to go as smoothly as I initially planned."

Hang on.

Date?

This was a date?

Your heart was racing and your mind began to fill itself with unanswered questions, but Childe knew better than to keep you waiting more than you already were.

"Hey, darling?" Your stomach dropped at the use of this nickname. "Do me a favor. Focus on the sky and don't look away until I say so."

You gave him a nod, unable to form the words that would suffice as a comprehensible sentence. He had you tongue-tied with just a simple nickname.

He walked away from where you were seated, just a few paces to your right and a couple of steps back. He was far enough to the point where you couldn't see him in your peripheral, but close enough for you to hear the jiggling of the adornments and chains on his clothes. You knew that sound even if it came from a mile away. You had it memorized by heart because of how many times you heard it before your sparring sessions began.

He took out his bow and was aiming to shoot an arrow.

Admittedly, there was a little voice at the back of your mind warning you about the potential danger just a couple of feet away from you. However, you decided to fight against it, knowing that the "potential danger" was just Childe. He'd never hurt you, right?

Despite the trust that you put in the ginger, you still closed your eyes as you heard him release the string of his bow. The quiet whizz of the arrow flew by your head, and when you realized that he wasn't shooting at you, you carefully opened your eyes to see a bright blue arrow shooting across the sky.

Your mouth went agape at the consecutive hydro-infused arrows flying across the velvet sky bedazzled with stars. The moon's glow illuminated the scenery, which made the setting all the more romantic and intimate. The vibrant hues of green and blue mixed with each other in the sky, creating an aurora borealis.

You were marveling at the number of arrows crossing the sky.

They were like shooting stars, except... they reminded you of Childe.

Though you knew they were only faux shooting stars, you closed your eyes.

"Archons, if you could be so kind, please allow me to be with him." You whispered to yourself.

You then opened your eyes to see the last arrow slowly fading away from your vision, and the hydro vision holder you loved so much sheepishly standing in front of you.

"I thought that the shooting stars would be visible tonight, that's why I asked you to come with me up here. Turns out my predictions were wrong. Maybe Scaramouche was right about the stars being a lie." He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

You giggled and looked at him, signaling to continue what he had to say.

"Although they were fake, I hope you liked them. I brought you here so that we could wish on the shooting stars together." His face was growing red, and you wanted to run up and hug him, if only your pride would stop getting the best of you.

"I loved them, Childe. Thank you for asking me out here today." You stood up and gave his hair a light ruffle, laughing at how he mocked you for doing so.

"So, what did you wish for?" He asked, taking a few steps closer to you.

"W-Well, uh," You began to stumble on your words, which caused you to involuntarily take a step back. With each step you took, Childe did too.

"Hmm?"

He managed to back you up against the pillar in the middle of the pavilion, and was enjoying the face you made as he trapped you between his arms.

"F-For good health! Yes, good health!" Yes, lying was against your principles, but you couldn't just say straight to his face that you wished for a relationship with him now, could you?

"Good for you then. You wanna know what I wished for?" His face came extremely close to yours, and you could feel his breath on your cheek.

"Wh-What is it?"

"You."

Your eyes once again met his deep blue orbs and they softened when he was staring straight into your soul.

"Can I kiss you?"

You gave a light nod, and he finally closed the gap between your lips.

Albedo was wrong.

You can definitely believe an assumption if the signs were obvious enough.

Omake;

"You totally wished for us to be together right?!"

"Oh, for the love of the Tsaritsa, please shut up!"

"You totally did!"

"I am seriously going to push you off."

"You're so mean, girlie!"

In the name of Kimura Ryohei being the VA of Childe and Kise from Kuroko no Basket

#genshin #genshin impact #gi #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #gi x reader #genshin fanfic #ajax #childe #tartaglia #ajax x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin ajax #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #i love u ginger man #why is he so fucking CUTE

[spidernana]

Day 5: Private

(Disclaimer: This is my own version of Night and Dream, their origin and multiverse in general. It is by no means a replacement for the original, which belongs to Joku, just an excuse for more Frans ^^b

So don't like? Don't read~)

Nightmare closed his visible socket, pinching his nasal ridge between two blackened phalanges and sighing in agitation. Below, at the foot of his grand and imposing throne (Dust loved to snicker at this summary, quite often adding 'ostentatious' and 'dramatic' to the list), Killer and Horror dithered about as they tended to do, the smaller doing some asinine trick with three of his knives and the larger staring into blank space, two massive fingers slotted into his slack eye socket, awaiting whatever verdict he chose to give in response to their mission summary.

If it could even be so generously called that.

The god of night and negativity sneered at the very thought, his free hand scraping corruption riddled fingertips across the molded steel and cracked stone of his throne's armrest. His tentacles, writhing at his back in echoed upset, were just as enraged as he was in lieu of his underlings' apparent and utter shortcomings, practically begging to choke the life from one of these idiots to satiate their master's bloodlust. An example to the others, of what constant failure would earn them... nothing that couldn't be replaced.

Perhaps he'd been too kind, of late... perhaps they had forgotten who he was, how many worlds he had brought to darkness and how many souls he had driven to a madness even they could only conceive of in their wildest imaginings.

Perhaps it was time to remind them.

It was a tempting thought, but a quickly dismissed one, despite the anger roiling just below the surface of his calming facade. For one thing, against all odds, he had grown rather fond of his strange little following, his motley crew of ne'er-do-wells and miscreants. They had taken to the work with a will, despite the... unpleasantness of their conscriptions (the only one of their number he hadn't had to coerce had been Killer, but he would have done anything to get out of his hellhole of an Underground, after what fate had befallen him), and over the years that they had been combing through the universes and slowly but surely stealing back the light that had been stolen from him, he truly had come to think of them as family.

For another thing... he still needed them. They could be replaced, of course... none of them were unique, each had a hundred timelines just like theirs, with only the subtlest of differences. It was such a bother, though, the trudge of breaking their wills and turning their minds. It was an unfortunate facet of contracting the more twisted souls to his designs... he couldn't simply lie to them like his sainted brother did, and have his sycophants accept his word as truth. No, his clan of cutthroats and cannibals were more suspicious than that, knew better than to blindly trust.

Axe's conversion was more than proof of that.

A snarl threatened to overtake his charcoal tinted bones once again, trembling in the shadows covering his face, but he restrained it resolutely. He'd promised himself that he wouldn't get riled over Axe again. The hardest part was done now... so long as he kept a close watch on him, there would be no further difficulties, and he would meld into their ranks flawlessly soon enough, yet another of his ever so loyal yet insufferably incompetent followers.

His socket snapped open, his electric blue eyelight glaring down at the slightly nervous looking faces of his contracted killers. Just looking at them had him seething all over again...

“what is it that is so hard about following my instructions? i feel that i have been perfectly clear, and yet here you are. failing in the one thing i have asked you to ensure. again,” he hissed quietly, his rage gone from his cold and flat tone but more than apparent in the twisting and coiling of his writhing tentacles, in the gathering shadows around the foot of his throne, in the darkening of the ever present, perpetually eclipsed, blood red moon bearing down on them all through the large, dusty, stained glass windows at his back. Their own shadows wavered against the floor, small and ragged in the light of the guttering, half burned down candles set about the room, and seemed almost to shrink away from the encroaching darkness he exuded, fearful of being lost to it.

As well they should be.

“i mean... we didn't fail exactly, boss. the timeline is falling into chaos, like you wanted. you can practically taste the despair on the air there, they-” Killer began to excuse, tensely fiddling the blade of one of his knives between his fingers, but Nightmare cut him off with a snort and a waved hand, the magic in his only visible socket flicking and sparking in his unspoken fury.

“the fall of their universe was inevitable, and secondhand to the quarry you sought. you were to bring me their frisk, alive, and not only did you fail in that... you killed her yourselves, wasting power more precious than any one of your lives. explain to me how you managed that on accident,” he invited with barely contained vitriol dripping from his every word, the loss of yet another priceless soul cutting at the twisted and corrupted core at the center of his being with blades sharper than any of his underlings possessed, and Killer stopped short in his excuses, a rare and tense frown overcoming his usual maniacal grin.

Even rarer was the bead of dusky blue sweat that ran down his cranium to stain his jacket's hood, joining the clotted magic that dripped perpetually from his mouth and sockets. The hulking skeleton at his side was much more taciturn, his grotesque smile frozen to his face and his broad shoulders constantly tightened with suspicious tension, but the enormous, horrendous iris that lit his good socket was constricted, the edges unfocused and, occasionally, rippling into jagged spikes.

They reeked of fear, and the stench of it got him high in an instant, taking the edge from his anger and, at the same moment, warning him that something was amiss. Either his intimidations were working better than usual (these idiots never knew well enough to fear him, not until it became necessary to amend that notion, and they forgot again far too quickly), or something he didn't know about was going on.

Or perhaps he was being too suspicious. He knew Axe was planning something, some sort of insurrection that would end only in failure and humiliation for the rabid, half insane monster, but to suspect it of his more trusted accomplices strained credulity. He wouldn't put it past the fortune teller, the duplicitous wretch was always up to his tricks, and Error had always had his own agenda, but Killer, Horror, or Dust? Unlikely.

He'd dismiss the thought for now... but he'd remain cautious. It had kept him alive thus far, and prevented betrayals like his brother's from happening again and costing him more than he could bear to lose. He was still attempting to mend that wrong, even after all these years... that was the entire point of his and his companions' ventures into other worlds.

One that they had now failed him in four consecutive times.

“...we tried to keep her away from the fight, but she wouldn't stay put... elbowed dust in the socket and jumped in front of the king, took a hit that would floor a boss monster. impressive as hell, but she didn't survive it. we tried, nightmare... but you know how brave frisks can be,” Horror muttered haltingly, jerking habitually at his socket so hard that the bone started to audibly protest, and Nightmare turned his face away with a grimace, the pain of the loss now accompanied by an all too knowing understanding, both bitter and sweet at once.

They all knew how stalwart a Frisk's soul was... she was a force to be reckoned with in every universe, even ones where she lingered only as an apparition. It was part of what made her so special, that sheer determination, her ceaseless love, the kindness that exuded from her to infect and turn all those around her to betterment.

Nightmare flinched visibly, his shadowed face creasing with a deep and telling agony. One hand rose to clench at the front of his irreparably stained shirt, his ribs aching in an all too familiar way. He should really be used to the sting, by now... the punishing, never ending pain of his own broken heart, concealed at best but never gone, had been following him for the hundreds of years since the loss of his light, his love... the only star in his sky. It returned to him every time he thought of her, saw her face reflected in those that had come after... even in her mortal forms, pale imitations of her former glory, it struck him to his very core, to the marrow of his diseased bones.

He missed her more than he had ever missed anything, even a form less twisted than the one he possessed now.

Accident or not, though, despite the character of his beloved that both irked and awed him and his underlings' inability to keep a being such as her contained, they had still failed him, and with the full knowledge of what it was costing him, the power he needed to restore his star to life slipping through his fingers all over again. The disappointment, impatience, and anger burned in him with a fierce and consuming passion, an old hatred for what, and whom, had taken her from him in the first place clawing at the inside of his malformed skull and sinking its claws into his heart of hearts, the core wood of the magnificent world tree he had been birthed from.

That fury materialized itself into twisted shadows and screaming, corruption rife shades, writhing manifestations of souls he had consumed, broken open in his own hands, devoured and destroyed without care for their extinguished life in the face of his quest. Their cries were those of agony and loss, screeches that grated against the very mind, and both Horror and Killer shrank back in horrified caution as they emerged from the darkness filling the throne room and shambled towards them, drawn to the power of their shadowy souls.

Nightmare gazed down on them all without pity, his single eyelight burning like both a beacon in the darkness and a warning of dire consequence. He was done with their incompetence, with the casual indifference they treated his mission with. It was the most important thing to him in the multiverse, far more important to him than their pathetic existences, and his chilling snarl bore witness to this, the tortured forms of his many victims howling wordless warnings of what further failure would cost.

“be that as it may, you have robbed me of more than i am willing to lose for the last time. i have only so much patience, and you have reached its threshold. you know exactly what you are taking from me, the rarity of her priceless soul, and should you fail me again, lose even one more soul, you will pay that price with your own. your former adjustments at my hand will be dreams in comparison to the fullness of my fury... you will know the suffering i have known, drawn out to the very last measure of excruciating pain, and you will beg for death before your inevitable end.”

The scent of their fear was like the ambrosia of the gods, fierce and bloodthirsty monsters brought to their knees as his power, the full force of his negativity and the darkness of the space between the stars, bore down on their sin riddled souls. They felt the many agonies of their victims, the terror and horror they had wrought with their own hands, and crumbled at the foot of his throne beneath the duress, helpless to his hold on them.

He allowed the karmic torture to continue for a few moments, a mere taste of what they would suffer in the event of another failure, before he lifted the tremendous weight of their own wrongs from their backs and returned their souls to the LV hardened carapaces they were, the whirling mist of shadows and the dreadful mire of pained wraiths retreating back into the Void and the light of the eclipsed moon filling the room once again. It bared to him the sight of his servants curled in on themselves on the floor, wracked with bone shattering sobs, and his smile at the sight was reflexive, a smirk of assured victory.

They would not fail him again. Of this, he was certain.

“am i understood?” he questioned leisurely, swirling one finger around the end of a calmer, aimlessly drifting tentacle, and through their helpless cries of sorrow and pain, they murmured their broken assent, staining the intricate red carpet that lined the center of the throne room with their tears.

“yes, master...”

“it won't *hic* happen again...”

A twinge of guilt assaulted him, the fondness he had come to feel for them making him weak for a moment, but it was gone with a shake of his head and a single whiff of the agony choked air, their rare and consuming misery a heady drug that made him lightheaded and nearly giddy. He rose from his throne, the intricate and twisted mass rising from the black granite floor to scrape at the ceiling of the vast room, and descended the steps to walk past them without a backwards glance.

“very good. once you've picked yourselves back up, you should rest... oh, and retrieve dust from wherever he had gotten off to. i have a similar conversation to have with him,” he instructed dismissively, waving a careless hand over his shoulder, before, with a crackle of electric blue lightning and the horrendous sound of the Void itself ripping apart, he disappeared into a wisp of black smoke, nearly indistinguishable against the darkness of the rest of the room.

He had business elsewhere... and company far more pleasant than theirs to attend to.

--------

In their places crumbled on the ground, attempting to overcome the punishment Nightmare had laid on them, both Horror and Killer groaned and panted for breath, each trying to quiet the seemingly never-ending tears pouring down their faces. It was something they had both suffered before, reminders from their dark master of their place in the pecking order, but experience made the feeling no easier to bear, and it was with great difficulty that they slowly managed to calm their wounded cries, clutching sore bones and aching skulls with shaking hands.

Horror recovered first, hefting his bulk from the ground with a grunt and trembling arms; he had far less guilt in his soul than Killer, who was still twitching and weeping where he lay, but even with both their sins combined, they didn't hold a candle to Dust. His meeting with Nightmare was bound to be extremely unpleasant.

Grimacing and shaking his throbbing, cracked skull, Horror extended a hand to help Killer to his feet, thereafter tilting his skull to roll his grotesque red eyelight around the grand throne room cautiously.

“...bout as bad as i thought that would go. but he bought it,” he murmured, adjusting the seating of his jacket on his massive shoulders, and Killer let out a sarcastic chuckle, hands on his knees and wiping at his perpetually stained face with his shoulders to attempt to clear his shameful tears away.

“'s a good thing this one was the last one we needed. wish dust could have picked one from a world we hadn't been assigned to... selfish bastard,” he gritted out, coughing haggardly and squeezing his sockets shut in his lingering pain, but Horror could do no more than shrug, sliding his hands into his shorts' pockets.

“...you know we don't have much of a choice in that. we're drawn to them despite ourselves... despite just about everything,” he chuckled morosely, humorless and lost in his own thoughts (likely considering his own Frisk), and Killer, finally straightening up with groan and several cracks from his spine, snorted and smirked blithely.

“he'll be paying for it soon enough. we should go warn him though... he should have her hidden by now,” he suggested, jerking his skull in the vague direction of the door, and though it took him a moment, gathering his thoughts and slowly pulling himself from his own considerations, Horror nodded, the huge, red iris in his working socket turning to send a considering look at the throne they stood at the foot of.

“...he'd better've. nightmare isn't one to wait, and the last thing we need is him finding out what we're doing,” he grunted, and with a snap, less overwhelming but still potent magic crackling in the still, dark air, both skeletal monsters turned on their heels and disappeared, stepping through the Void to find their compatriot and warn him of what was to come.

-----------

Deep within the bowels of the castle the pair had just hurriedly left, in halls that were impossible for anyone but the master of the dark palace to access, Nightmare materialized again, stepping from the dark shadow that a pillar cast. His expression was calmer, than when he left his idiotic underlings... it was almost soft, even, as soft as a being so suffused with darkness could be, and an air of excitement lingered around him, his tentacles seemingly incapable of resisting leading him to his anticipated destination. They extended to pull him hurriedly along the hall, opening doors and guiding his steps, but he didn't seem to mind.

The quicker he returned to her side, the better.

Two more doors, through the intimate privacy of his own chambers, and across the short distance it took to draw to his neatly made bedside later, and finally his tentacles seemed to calm, settling into almost awed consideration as the lord of the deepest night and the darkest hearts gazed down, with crooked smile and desperate adoration, on the sight that awaited him there.

A corrupted hand, gentle and loving, reached out to trace the shape of a delicate cheekbone, full lips drawn into an almost permanent pout, the delicate fall of hair he could still remember running his phalanges through. His gaze traced closed eyelids, a graceful neck he longed to press his mouth to again, the still and fractured form of the woman he loved most, across all the wide multiverse.

His morning and evening star, his one and only... the first and truest Frisk, composed of starlight and kindness and the blessings of the heavens, slumbering and awaiting the completion of his devoted quest.

His touch was a truly meaningless one, to anyone but himself... she was ethereal, in her incomplete form, the pattern stitched into his bed's cover visible through her translucent body, her presence nothing more than a shade of her true self, but the mere gathering power that would restore her to how she should be was a boon to his broken heart, a weight that he had carried ever since she had disappeared so long ago lifted for a bare but necessary moment.

A flicker of absolute hatred crossed Nightmare's face, the reason she had fractured herself in the first place suffusing his mind and reawakening his loathing for the one that had caused it. What he and Frisk had been together, before his fall and her fracturing, had been perfect... why the stars had decided she should belong to both he and Dream, a bride to both the day and the night, he could not fathom. Sharing her had been difficult, but he had done it anyway... she had loved his brother just as much as she had loved him, and he wouldn't take that from her for anything.

Dream had not been of the same inclination. Jealous, pious, and selfish, he had demanded more than his fair share of her time, guilting her into believing he was hurt to be deprived of her. Already self-righteous in his superiority, the love of the people for his positivity and the golden rain of his sun, he had moved to make her his and his alone, and with this, Nightmare had put his foot down, tearing the heart from the tree of their birth and consuming its fruits to gain its power.

His form had been ruined by his deed, corrupted and darkened forever, but he had finally been stronger than Dream, and had brought to him the fight that he had so clearly desired, tearing apart his kingdom of light and wresting his control of their perfect mate from him by force.

Nightmare could suffer being looked down on for his role, cast in a lesser light in the eyes of mortal beings...

But to have his bride stolen from him, he would not abide.

Frisk had not been able to stand their war. She had hated to see the beings she loved so divided over her, her precious and stardust infused heart breaking in her chest, and in her wisdom, so far above him and Dream and all others, she had cast herself down, to bless souls so much like her own with her kindness and her love, to experience bonds and marriages without the pain Dream had caused her.

That very stardust, the pieces of his beloved in their souls, was what drew every Sans coded monster to their own Frisks. What drove their obsession with the heavens, and what brought about the depth of their affections.

It was not theirs to have. They lived on borrowed time, loving what was not theirs to love, and with the last words she had spoken to them before she had shattered like glass eternally in his mind (“When you learn to love as selflessly as I, I will return to you...”), he had, at last, formulated his plan. He loved her more than anything, more than any other being had surely loved another... that had to be what she meant. So he would take back the stardust of her heart, ripping it from the souls of those so undeserving of her light, and piece her back together.

It was taking far too long. The miserable wretches that were her mates in other worlds defended her so viciously that it would have been admirable, had they not stood in his way. It was a gift, to have the help of ones who did not mind striking them down, who had cold and distant souls, incapable of wanting their own bonds any longer... wresting their Frisks from them, those that still survived, at least, was a simple thing.

He could be patient a little longer, though... so long as he didn't lose any more. In one of their many despised meetings, Dream had divulged that he was doing much the same as he, gathering the pieces of their love to rebuild her heart, and Nightmare would not abide him besting him.

Petty? Perhaps... but he had done worse than desire to have his beloved returned to him.

Nightmare's gentle smile returned to him, and his gaze to the present, as he looked down on the still ethereal form of his star, seating himself at her side and tracing his fingertips over the back of a disjointed hand, wishing that he could feel her again with a desperate longing. His tentacles roved her form much the same way, drifting through the mist-like shape of her, and in her slumber, she stirred slightly, a blessed and rare smile lifting her lips.

“Night...” she whispered, her beautiful voice calling to him from across both time and space, and he could have wept at the sound, his ribs aching, for once, not with pain, but with absolute and consuming love, an obsessive thing that had changed him more than even his greatest sin.

“soon, beloved. we'll be together again soon,” he whispered back, pretending to run the back of two phalanges down her cheek, and in his longing imagination, she nuzzled against his touch, her long, thick lashes fluttering against her star flecked cheeks.

#frans #franstober #day 5 #private #nightmare!sans #star!frisk #my own metaverse #loreeeee #karmic torture #threats #intimidation #obsession #killer!sans #horror!sans

[mello-jello]

Just Once - A Levihan Drabble

AO3 Link here

The various military officials all grumble their goodbyes and give salutes to one another as they file out of Commander Hange’s office. They are resolute and some are even confident in their plan to keep the Yeager brothers separated.

When they all leave, Hange lets out a deep sigh, satisfied with the day's work, but also exhausted. She turns to face Levi, who lingered behind like he usually did. Her hands support her as she leans back on her desk. Her satisfied expression drops when she sees Levi’s face.

He is looking at the floor, fidgeting with his fingers, looking as if about to say something. He is hesitant though, and Hange wonders why. Since when is Levi apprehensive when talking to her? She thinks he is trying to say something about the mission. What, is he worried about the plan?

Hange is about to say something when Levi finally meets her gaze with a look so unexpected that Hange forgets what she was going to say. He opens his mouth several times, but no words come out. Levi runs a hand through his hair; a gesture that looks foreign on him. He looks so stressed and perhaps nervous.

Hange watches him in confusion. She might have laughed any other time, but something in his expression keeps her from doing it. He looks at her, then looks towards the door, then back to her. He takes a step forward, then looks at the door again. Whatever was on his mind was making him act ridiculous.

Then, he marches over to her with such ferocity that Hange almost reflexively puts her arm up. At the last moment, he slows. Hange is utterly stunned at the look in his eyes that she had never seen before. They are both dark and warm, intense yet gentle, determined and fearful. She can’t look away, she’s drowning in them.

He takes her hand and holds it between them. His brow is furrowed and he is so close now, forehead pressed against hers and she looks down their intertwined fingers. Hange’s breath starts to pick up despite herself. This is Levi, what is going on?

“I-” he starts, but again he can’t find the words. He lets out an exasperated sigh. He pulls away to look her in the eyes again and to her surprise, his eyes are misty.

Hange looks at him with concern and gives his hand a reassuring squeeze. He had been quiet during the meeting so he must have something he couldn’t say in front of the others. She prepares for Levi’s concerns, or criticisms, or just general worry. She prepares to convince him that this plan is indeed the best they have.

Levi inhales once more and Hange braces herself. His breath catches though, and for a moment he stares at her, unblinking and unbreathing. Hange’s own breath ceases as she stares back, completely perplexed.

Levi lets go of her hand in favour of wrapping his arms around the small of her back, closing the gap.

Oh. She had not prepared for this. All his recent behaviours suddenly made sense. Levi was going to kiss her.

She is shocked at this realization and even more so at how badly she wants him to do it. Suddenly she is the nervous one. The last time she had kissed anybody was… Well, it had been a really long time.

Her senses heighten with anticipation. Levi is moving so slowly now, but she does not dare interrupt. Her heart is in her throat, her entire body is tense, she forgot how to breathe and the quiet world around them is frozen in time.

Their lips finally meet and - oh yes.

Levi is so incredibly dubious that it feels like a feather has brushed across her lips. The kiss is so soft, so delicate, so precious that it instantly melts the two of them. The breaths they had both been holding crash into each other, mixing their sweet scents in the small space between them. They stay like that, dwelling in the moment and processing what just happened.

Hange mused at the irony. The cruel anticipation has been satiated, only to be replaced by a more intense yearning for something more.

Levi keeps his eyes closed and a small smile appears on his lips as he sighs. “Ah. I’ve wanted to do that for a really long time.” He presses his forehead to hers, both of them breathing deeply. “I just… Needed to… Once.” He stammers as he pulls away and opens his eyes to meet hers.

Still in his own bliss, Levi’s smile fades only slightly as he asks, “What is it?” He grips her upper arm and stares into her good eye. Hange says nothing, her only response is her ragged breaths becoming faster and faster. Her eyes are wide, eyebrows slanted upwards, and her lips are slightly parted. She looks as though she might cry.

Suddenly and all at once, Levi realizes what he’s done. His heart sank. He is about to leave her for what would likely be months. And he just did that.

He is apologetic but before he can say anything, he is startled by Hange throwing her arms around him, no longer using them to support herself on the desk. She pulls him into another deeper kiss. She is hungry and intense and Levi can barely keep up, but oh how he loves it. He loves it so much. A warmth grows deep inside his chest with an emotion so foreign, yet so welcome.

Hange props herself up fully on the desk and uses her legs to wrap around him completely, pulling him in tight. He responds in kind, tightening his grip around her torso. If at any point either of them were too rough, the other didn’t complain.

It was too much and not enough at the same time. Their entire beings, their very essences were fighting to become one in the sweet agony that is longing to be closer than the physical realm can allow. It has them cursing at the laws of nature.

Hange tilts her head back and runs her fingers through Levi’s hair, gripping a clump as Levi kisses her neck. He undoes her top button, giving him better access to her collar bone, which he promptly peppers with wet kisses. Her eyes glaze over, unable to see properly.

Hange’s hips roll in such a way, causing a type of friction that makes both of them gasp.

They snap to look at eachother, and are slowly pulled back to reality. The only sound is their own heartbeats in their temples. Levi is the first to come around, leaning his head on her shoulder, defeated. “Shit.” He mutters into the fabric of her uniform.

“We can’t do this…” she says, disappointment colouring her tone.

“Yeah,” Levi agrees.

Neither of them move though, neither one wanting to be the one to end it. Instead they silently let their eyes say all the things they can’t speak out loud. They can’t continue, regardless of how much they want to. And they really want to. However, their duties must come first. Levi is slated to leave the following evening and he needs to prepare. Hange has a hundred things she needs to do as well. Levi’s misty eyes return, and Hange blinks back her tears. They somehow convince themselves that this is for the best. That they would be better off not pursuing this new development, as it would likely end in heartbreak anyway.

With a long sigh, she redoes her button while her legs release Levi from their tight embrace. He awkwardly steps to the side, smoothing out his uniform and disheveled hair. Hange silently revels in the flush of his face. She wordlessly opens the door for Levi to take his leave. “Captain,” she salutes.

“Commander,” he replies and exits.

Hange leans back on the door and as soon as she hears it click shut, she slides to the floor, allowing herself one more minute to relish in her feelings. She puts the back of her hand to her cheek, feeling how warm it was. She feels silly being all flustered like this. The overpowering feeling in her chest has yet to subside and she wonders if it ever will.

She has always loved Levi but she hadn’t realized that she could love him that way. And that he must love her in that way as well. She feels her lips stretch into a small smile. In another place, another time, another world, another life.

Hange decides in that moment that when this is all over, they would truly confess and they could be together.

But this Yeagerist catastrophe had to be dealt with first. The fervid doubt that was ever-present in the back of her mind slowly crept back into its place. The odds of Levi surviving this were almost certain. Hange’s odds were less so. Her heart sank deep and heavy in her chest as she slunk back into the harsh reality she lived in.

At least, she thought, they got to do this once.

#levihan fanfiction #levihan drabble #levihan #levi x hange

[dennou-translations]

Violet Evergarden Ever After: Chapter 2

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The Night and the Auto-Memories Doll

   Everything went around.

From past to present and from present to future. The dead bodies that decayed within the soil would dissolve into the earth, and from the earth, too, would new living creatures be born. Within a few hours’ time, curtains made of stars and nightly shades would be covered over by curtains in the colors of dawn.

People went around as well.

Children would be born, muster out their voices, start walking and, once they became aware of their own selves, their stories would begin. A cycle of discovering passion, coming to know love, stopping to be children and, upon sympathizing with other families, birthing offspring just as their parents had done. A cycle of learning about the world, spreading information, teaching their knowledge to younglings without sparing any of it away and generating more such younglings. A cycle in which someone’s story was someone else’s encouragement, and those who were encouraged would conceive stories of their own.

Everything went around.

There was one cycle here. It was the story of a meager cycle that likely could happen anywhere in the world.

A man picked up a wild beast from a small island to which he had drifted. It was a beautiful beast, but it had been stocked with skills long before coming to his hands. Skills for slaughtering people with ease and seeking submission.

Their first meeting was terrible. His underling had attempted to lay his hands on the beast’s beauty. As if it were a given, the beast had killed his many subordinates, leaving only one person. That was him. Granting him both disaster and salvation at the same time, the beast had sought subservience in regards to the man.

The man fled around the island where all but himself had been murdered, but gave in and accepted the beast. The beast was useful, but also an existence that he could not handle. Be it morning, noon or night, his head was troubled with the beast, his heart unable to calm down.

Essentially, he was a man who did not want to be shackled by anything. After all, he had a past of being forced into submission by his household and parents. He had escaped from his responsibilities and his home, jumping off into the sea. The man, who had been born in a family that bore the name of a flower, had run away and gained freedom.

He yearned for it – for a freedom that no one could steal from him – more than anything. Even if he had to cast away his little brother for it. Therefore, the man had done the same in the beast’s case. The one who mattered most to him was himself. He wanted to break free from that horror. Most likely, he had cut off from himself a child in need of salvation.

Everything went around.

——O God, I want to                                .

Everything.

   A voice that sounded like bells echoed.

“Captain,” it whispered, as if to tickle the man’s ears. “Captain Dietfried Bougainvillea.”

It was evening. A time when people were returning to their homes.

“What would you like to do?”

An orange light shone from the window inlaid with stained glass. With the sunset reflected on the elaborately designed interior decoration, the place itself looked like a single work of art.

“Could it be that, because of the impact earlier, your hearing has...”

It was supposed to be. The place where the person who called out so insistently and the person who intentionally ignored her were in was an art gallery that just recently had its interior and exterior finished.

“As if.”

“I am relieved. Then, I would like to ask if you have a plan.”

In a place they were not supposed to be at, the two who were not supposed to be together were kneeling on the floor in resignation.

“Captain.”

“.............................”

“The civilians are in a predicament.”

“................................”

“Captain Dietfried Bougainvillea.”

“............”

“What would you like to do?”

“..................”

“I would like to ask if you have a plan, by any chance.”

“.....................”

“The civilians are in a predicament.”

“........................”

“If I may offer my opinion, firstly, I could act as a decoy—”

“Be quiet, monster. Don’t keep repeating the same thing over and over. Don’t breathe either. I’m thinking right now.”

Dietfried Bougainvillea, a naval captain of Leidenschaftlich, eldest son of the Bougainvillea – a household of patriotic national heroes – and the man who had picked up Violet Evergarden in the past and brought her to this country, was covering his eyes with his hands due to having too much on his plate. The little bit of silence and darkness had brought him relief, but someone’s sobbing, the voice of a man reproaching it and the sound of a person being brutally kicked and tumbling down dragged him back to reality.

He had a severe headache. Whether it was caused by his anxiety or his injury, he had no idea. He put a hand on the back of his head and examined it, but only a bit of blood had come out.

In order to somehow spit such awful mood out of his body, he took deep breaths. He felt that he had become a little better, but the unpleasant sensation returned once he opened his eyes and cast his gaze at the woman next to him. A spoon of discomfort, rejection and fear each was thrown into Dietfried’s emotional vessels, set on fire and boiled up. However, the most prominent feeling was something else.

The woman who had been talking to him so insistently until a moment ago was now quiet just and not letting out a single breath as he had told her. Violet Evergarden.

Dietfried looked fixatedly at his former servant. The woman, whose appearance had transfigured considerably in comparison to when they had first met, bore a radiantly shining cold beauty, which was even more conspicuous under such tense circumstances. She was almost like an ice sculpture, Dietfried thought.

——Even though you used to stink like a wild beast...

She now smelled of nothing but flowers.

——...you turned out just as I’d imagined.

“You’re a siren.”

Silence.

“My little brother destroyed a train station just to keep you alive; you’re a siren through and through. I’m not into you, but my mental stability is wrecked right now, and I’m sensing the harmfulness and influence that your existence brings about in that. You’re unmatched when it comes to breaking things and causing problems.”

Dietfried had once told his brother that the beast could become a siren. He had meant to say so including all sorts of matters. This young woman named Violet was a creature that God had created by mistake and had not been born under a good star. When one was by her side, there were many of them.

“Damn troublemaker.”

Many problems. Even though she had not wished for it, she had been born this way. Under a star that attracted disasters.

——It goes round. All of it.

He ran and ran from her, yet they would end up meeting, thus Dietfried had started to think that it might be some sort of divine revelation at this point. Telling him to face the girl that he had thrown away.

Violet was still, hand on her brooch. He someway guessed that it was given to her by his younger brother. He felt like clicking his tongue. This girl might become the worst-ever wife whose hand his most beloved little brother was going to take.

——We can leave that for later; gotta overthrow this situation first.

Determined to fight this reality, Dietfried then turned his gaze towards the sight that spread out before his eyes. Women, men, elderly people – everyone was crouching on the floor with guns pointed at them regardless of anything. Obviously, the same applied to Dietfried and Violet.

Unexpected situations – situations in which they could not make a false move even if they were on their own, let alone in the presence of so many civilians – were responsible for this. On top of it, Dietfried was also saddled with someone that he had to protect despite not wanting to. Of course he would feel like clicking his tongue at it.

Perhaps they were thought to be lovers, as no one said anything even while they stayed close to each other.

“Hey, did you really stop breathing?”

She did not seem to be in agony, but her figure as she diligently obeyed made Dietfried feel uneasy.

“I was joking; breathe.”

Violet’s blue eyes blinked with a snap.

“Yes.”

And then, she finally let out a breath. Dietfried hated himself for being remotely relieved that she had safely started breathing again, was what he thought.

“Hey, you.”

“Yes.”

“From now on, follow my orders. Don’t act on your own accord.”

“All right.”

“I’m gonna save the civilians. It’s my duty. There’s no helping it, so I’m counting you in that math too... No idea what my little brother would do if he found out I’d let you die. Even if it weren’t on purpose, if anything that could kill you happened under these circumstances, I really have no way of knowing what he’d do. He’d probably hate me.”

“No, Captain, he—”

“Have some self-awareness, Monster. My foolish younger brother blew up a train station to let you live. This fact did turn into a subject of teasing towards Gil for no matter how much time passes from now, but if you think about it on normal terms, it’s out of the ordinary. That’s the way you’ve changed him. Damn witch...”

She was the tool that he had found and that used to exist for his sake. A woman who used to be a dog with no name. An orphan whom he had picked up from a solitary island, brought back with him, attempted to get the most out of yet was unable to, and then threw away.

Asset. Girl soldier. Automatic assassination doll. Witch.

——Even if I don’t want to, for now, I gotta protect this thing and take it home.

“I’ll save you, so you save me too, Witch.”

Fate went around, adding a chance meeting as the best seasoning for a finishing touch. After all, at this very moment, Violet Evergarden and Dietfried Bougainvillea were being attacked by robbers and had weapons thrust at them.

“That’s awfully unpleasant for me, but I’ll take action by considering your life to be the top priority. Not for you. For my little brother.”

Understanding that she had received permission to talk once she had received permission to breathe, Violet gave her own opinion, “No.” She did it directly, without any restraint. “No, that is my job, Captain. Major... Lord Gilbert loves you.”

Dietfried’s eyes blinked. Those green orbs were staring fixatedly at Violet since earlier, enough to seem like they would suck her in. They were green jewels in a different shade from his younger brother’s. Those green gems, enveloped in shock, reflected Violet’s serious gaze.

“I shall guard you, no matter what happens,” Violet declared with resolution, like a knight. “I will obey your orders to the best of my abilities, but if I judge it to be dangerous, I shall take action with your safeguarding as the maximum priority.”

“Hey.”

“I will definitely protect you and bring you to Major safely. Please do not leave my side, Captain.”

“That’s my line,” Dietfried said while nonetheless wanting to kill Violet.

   For the exchange between the two to reach this stage, things had first begun when morning visited Leidenschaftlich. This might be going back much too far in time for a clarification, but it all had indeed started since daybreak.

The morning weather was overflowing with sunlight on that day – typical of Leidenschaftlich in early summer. Early rising ladies formed queues in the bakeries that opened at dawn and little birds flew about the shops’ surroundings to receive breadcrumbs. There was a café three stores away from one of the popular bakeries, famous for serving floral teas, its signboard girl preparing to open it. If one went further ahead, there was a bank, and round said bank, there was a main street lined with large-scale shops.

An art gallery arranged to open the next day had been erected on the main street. Its name was Artemisia. It bore the name of its owner, who was an artist.

The gallery Artemisia displayed the works of its proprietor, of course, but it also had works of artists from within and abroad Leidenschaftlich. There were rows of works from unknown young artists that the owner had taken interest in as well, devoted as she was to the cultivation of new talents.

The Artemisia Gallery, which was to become a place where novel forms of Leidenschaftlich’s art would be born, was scheduled to hold a pre-opening party today, attended only by the people concerned. The gallery’s staff had started cleaning its interior and the sidewalk in front of it from morning.

Around noon, a restaurant employee hired for the sake of that day had visited, bringing in wine, snacks and table sets. As for the dishes, there were two types: the ones that had already been prepared and the ones that would be made by borrowing the kitchen of the owner’s residence, which had been built on the gallery’s top floor. Since eating was not the main focus, the preparations were merely enough for the upcoming guests not to feel hungry.

As evening came, the inside of Artemisia began to speed up with haste. If there were anyone in command of such a scenery, they would likely be asserting with a baton: “hurry”, “faster”, “elegantly”.

An envelope closed with a wax seal bearing the establishment’s crest. Customers arrived one after another with the invitation taken from inside of it at hand. For a pre-opening party with a limited number of invitees, there was a large amount of people. The elect few of Artemisia’s employees were in a flurry of activity.

“Bring me a coat” here, “not enough drinks” there, a plate breaking somewhere. “Where’s the owner?”, “Got caught by the guests”. “There’s no one to give us instructions”, “Oh, well” – just like this, things descended into chaos behind the scenes.

Normally, their job was to calmly recommend artistic goods. Therefore, they were unable to hide their bewilderment at handling so many visitors at first. Nevertheless, if one looked at the guests being entertained, how were they? Appreciating the artworks, looking like they were having a blast. Upon seeing this, the employees were able to understand deep down. That “what, so things are the same as usual”. By the time that the customers were completely familiar with the gallery’s interior, the employees were able to show smiles with a little bit of ease.

Among the guests invited to Artemisia, a foreign body completely unrelated to this world was mixed in.

It was a woman. A beautiful one at that. From an appreciative viewpoint, there would be nothing to complain about if she were one of the artworks. She was clad in a ribbon-tie one-piece dress, snow-white as a flower in full bloom on a summer day. Her long, softly curved golden hair extended to her waist. Perhaps she had come straight from work, as she held a heavy-looking trolley bag on one hand. “Click, click,” knocked her cocoa-brown boots against the marble flooring each time she took a step.

She walked while observing every artwork one by one. Idyllic landscape paintings, abstract paintings that looked like silver ink spilled on pure-white paper, oil paintings in which the people seemed as if they would move at any moment. Glassworks and ceramics that one would be very afraid even to look at from nearby. At first, the exhibition was of works from artists renowned within the country, but the small hall of its latter half integrated displays from artists who were still nameless. The woman stopped in front of one such work.

A painting of whimsical fantasy. Was it a winter sea? It depicted various things falling and sinking into dark and cold water. A pocket watch, a feather, a bed, a knife, a white flower and a chair. All were worn-out and had damaged parts. At first glance, one would not know what it was expressing. Only the boy painted in the center seemed to pierce through the viewer.

He was still a teenager and his appearance could also be considered that of a girl. After staring at him for a while, the feeling that he was supposed to be saved would surface. Because the boy had a facial expression that almost looked like he was making eye contact with the viewer as he fell. But this could not come true. He was sinking in the picture. No one on this side could do anything. One would not know what to do with themselves after looking at it – it was that kind of picture.

“Excuse me; I was the one who painted this. Is there anything wrong with this painti...”

Suddenly, a voice called to the woman from behind. A rock thrown into the quiet atmosphere. A low tone that cut through the dimness of the room.

People were mostly heading towards the famous artists, so the woman had been all by herself on that spot until just now. The man who had showed up a bit late was coincidentally the creator of that fantastical painting, and found himself talking to the woman who had stopped in front of his art. That was an extremely natural encounter for a pair. If their positions, circumstances and everything else were different, something might have been born between them. It did not have to be romantic love, just something – something else that “the two of them originally had”.

“Captain Dietfried Bougainvillea.”

The moment the woman turned around, the space resounded with a loud squeak. It actually had not resounded, but at the very least, Dietfried heard the thump of his own heartbeat, which gave his whole body goosebumps. He was enveloped in a strange sensation, as if the blood inside him were flowing backwards. One of the things he had once evaded in his life was standing there.

“What’re you doing, Monster?”

Violet Evergarden.

Before the emerald eyes that Dietfried possessed, of a hue different from his younger brother’s, there was a young female Auto-Memories Doll. The reason why he had not recognized her from the back was likely that her golden hair was slovenly loose.

He had not had a chance to see her after she had become a grown-up ever since the incident during the Flying Letters. Only people who had great amount of interaction with each other would be able to tell such a thing just by looking at someone’s back.

“I was looking at the paintings, Captain.”

Violet was expressionless. However, her hand alone promptly searched for her emerald brooch and squeezed it.

“You, paintings? Can you understand them?”

First, a scornful laugh, and then a head start with a verbal attack. She needed to put up a defense line. After all, this girl was formerly a weapon. An automatic assassination doll.

“I cannot. It is just that... my eyes and legs stopped.”

She was the one and only woman that Dietfried feared. If he had run into anyone else, his emotions would not be so disrupted.

Dietfried was scared. This girl was terrifying.

“I caused you trouble last time.”

He knew the things she had done. He knew whom she had killed. And he also recalled how he used to treat her, telling himself that it was all right.

“By asking about Major.”

Because she was a monster.

——O God, I want to                                .

These words wandered about in his head. They were words that he had prayed in his childhood to the one that he would meet at some point – probably in his dying moments. Thinking back on it now, it had been a foolish, immature and helpless wish, but he was serious about it at the time.

Looking at this girl made him remember his embarrassing past self.

“I shall see myself out. Captain, please take your time.”

“Hey.”

Violet had decided to retreat from the place, putting it to action. She concluded that this would be a peaceful solution for both sides and that it would secure each other’s survival.

“Hey, wait.”

However, Dietfried still had something that he wanted to say.

At the call of restraint, Violet’s feet halted mid-step. She then gazed at Dietfried. “Why?” her eyes were asking.

Choosing to leave must have been her own way of showing respect. Considering the current and the previous relationship between two of them, it was a sound judgement. Hence, she stared at him presumptuous and mutely.

Even now, it pierced Dietfried. That quiet “why” perforated him.

Despite being the one who had told her to wait, Dietfried lost sight of his next words. He had tons of complaints. Rather, complaints were the only thing that ever came out of his mouth. Most likely, he had never presented any warm words or attitude to her. No, he had at least patted her head when they parted. But what about it? That was all he had done. Which perhaps was the reason why.

——What did you think of that painting?

Just a question like this was exceptionally challenging for him. If it were anyone else, he would surely be able to ask as easily as breathing. He could also boast that he was the one who had painted it. However, only with this woman was it so difficult.

A long silence drifted between the two. A truly long, long silence.

The mood was almost like two beasts had come across each other in the wilderness and were estimating which would attack first. Both were underdeveloped and, not matching their insides, only their appearances were actually full-fledged. Seen from the sidelines, they were a beautiful adult man and woman looking at each other, but the air flowing between them was that of a battlefield.

Dietfried was starting to sweat. As for Violet, even her breathing was becoming shallower.

Violet seemed to be thinking about something. She opened and closed her mouth, repeating it several times. What should she do in that situation? What was best? She was probably unable to decide. This was something that not just Violet but also Dietfried was thinking about, yet the degree of seriousness in behavior was surprisingly higher on Violet’s side.

She would normally not be like this.

He was the person that even Violet Evergarden, who had written so many letters, was at loss as to how to act around. That was the man called Dietfried.

Perhaps her thinking had eventually arrived to a conclusion, Violet left her baggage on the floor and put her hands behind her back. “Feel free to.”

At first, Dietfried had no idea what she was doing. Violet looked like she was offering her body.

“Ha...?”

Without hesitation, almost as if she were a tool.

“I am still. Feel free to.”

“Feel free to feast on my life,” she seemed to say. Her current self overlapped with the beast of the past.

“To do what, is what I’m asking...” Dietfried’s mouth felt sticky, giving him a hard time mustering words out. His head had been occupied mostly with how to mend the blunder that he had exposed to her, so he could not respond to Violet’s surprise attack immediately.

“Do you not remember? I used to do this whenever I had to receive reprimand or punishment.”

He could not. All of the information that had been fluttering about in Dietfried’s head until now disappeared. It vanished.

“You, what the...”

The owner of the blue eyes that stared at Dietfried as if to shoot through him always did unexpected things, tossing him about.

“I did not know how to speak back then, so in order to show that I had no intention to attack you, Captain, I would do this.”

Those eyes.

“No matter what I say, surely... there is no atonement for me. With time, I have come to understand the things I... did. And how much terror I made you go through. Nevertheless, I am grateful for the kindliness of placing me under Lord Gilbert. I wish to pay you back somehow. If you say that it is unnecessary, at the very least, do as you please.”

For whatever reason, when those eyes asked him “why”...

“Be it with fists or with reproach, as much as you want.”

...his chest ached as if it had been stabbed.

“Feel free to.”

If that place were not a quiet art gallery, Dietfried would have yelled furiously at her, without caring about shame or his reputation. He managed to ball his fists hard enough for it to hurt and swallow down his angry voice due to his high level of self-respect.

“I hate that about you...”

This girl always made him aware that she would never act as he expected.

“...to death.”

At the words spoken by Dietfried’s quivering tone, Violet took a step back. Her stance of offering herself did not change, but her instincts were on-guard, wondering if she was not going to be killed by this man. Seeing that, Dietfried sneered at her figure.

“You’re the one who could choke the life out of me anytime,” he seemed to say.

Dietfried suddenly felt the heat that had gone up his head cooling down. Violet had taken a step back. That became the trigger for him to regain his composure. Because he was able to reconfirm that she was but a child in the end. This innocent aspect and action that were much like what a child would show to an adult exerted a great influence on the other party. Dietfried loathed that.

For he, who despised interventions from anyone, had so much aversion to it that it make him want to vomit.

Those who were accustomed to oppression from others would very easily choose to hurt people. She was inwardly frightened of that tendency. Yet albeit frightened, she prioritized others over herself. That creature was like a mass of contradictions.

——Disgusting. Stop. Die. Don’t look at me.

He did not want to get involved with her. But he had a mountain of things to say. However, when it came to whether or not he could properly do it, even if he managed to squeeze them out, they would turn into nothing but abusive language.

There was a large lake between the two of them and all they could do was gaze at the opposite shore, unable to tell how deep it was. Their first meeting was to blame for that. It was the cause of everything.

His underlings had attacked her and she had killed all of them. She then chased and chased after him, making him into her master. Despite there being a hierarchy, Violet was the one who had a grip over his life.

One would understand, after spending time with the girl, that this was a necessity for her. She was always like that, ever since the island only the two of them knew. Whenever anything happened, she would prioritize Dietfried. After all, even as he handed her over to Gilbert, she had not resisted.

If anything could be changed, that was the moment.

The two who never mingled with each other met again countless times in a parallel line. On such occasions, they would become unable to make a move due to shouldering the truth of rejection and of the things they had done, thus running away.

——Gilbert.

What did the person who brought the two together, whom they loved most, thought of that?

“You... I...”

——If I could change for Gilbert...

“Captain...?”

——If I could change, right here and now, for your sake...

Would it be easier for him to breathe?

Just as Dietfried was about to make a bitter decision...

“GYAAAAAAAAAH—AAAAAAH—AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

...an incident occurred.

   It was clearly not a hasty crime. The scream of Artemisia, the owner, echoed, and by the time that Dietfried and Violet had bolted from the quiet hall where there was just the two of them, robbers were already thrusting their weapons mostly at vulnerable women and children, having them on their knees. The course of action was far too swift.

Wide-eyed, Violet swung back her trolley bag and was about to throw it at them, yet Dietfried stopped her.

“Are you stupid?! Those aren’t all adults that can run...!”

Among the hostages, there was also a little girl held under someone’s arms, looking like she did not understand the situation.

“I will save them as fast as possible and take control of the rest.”

“They’ve got guns; what’re you gonna do if they hit someone else with a warning shot?! There’s the other artworks too... This ain’t a stage for a tactless bastard like you to brawl! Just stay put for now!”

“But, Captain—”

“Stay put!”

While the two were trying to push past each other, the robbers took notice of them.

In the main hall, perhaps in order to bind people up through fear, the men were being beaten without exception, being put on their knees over the floor. Seeing that, the women naturally sat down, trembling, and began to cry.

While screams were resounding like music, one of the robbers headed towards the duo. “So there were still weeds growing here?” was the look in his eyes as he swung his firearm emotionlessly.

Dietfried would have managed to avoid it. He had done it several times until now. He could do it as easily as floating on water. If he could catch the man’s gun with one hand and pulled it just like that, he was able to picture the opponent falling over as a reaction. Once he stole the gun, he could shoot each member of the robber gang one by one in the head. And then, there would be a gunfight. He would have done that if he were alone. Yes, if he were alone.

——Why now of all times?

There was nothing more humiliating than a punch that one had to resign oneself into receiving. But he had things he had to protect above his own dignity. Thus, he accepted the attack without dodging. If he were to start a scuffle amidst the current situation, he did not think that all of the people who had become hostages would remain unharmed. He would aim for a chance. That was what he should do. He made such decision not only for his own welfare but also for that of other people.

However, the automatic assassination doll made a completely different one. When her eyes glinted like that, she quite literally moved on automatic. She came forward to take his place. In that instant, the face of Dietfried’s younger brother was the only thing crossing his mind.

——Gil.

It was almost as if he had readied himself to do it. That was how quickly his arm reached out. He forcefully embraced Violet and turned his back towards the robber. A violent hit struck him from head to back. He could hear Violet’s breath quietly catching while holding her in his arms.

And such was how they had arrived to the present.

   Dietfried did not think that his decision to suppress Violet was a mistake. He was aware that she was the woman who had fought by herself against terrorists inside an exploding train, but it would be a problem if she did something of the sort in the Artemisia Gallery.

Right now, he felt like a pet owner containing the rampage of his mad dog.

As for the mad dog herself, she had grown quiet ever since Dietfried had been hit, as if her functions were gone. Dietfried had pushed away the hands that had attempted to give him first aid. Any false moves and the robbers might beat him again.

She, who always took upon herself to protect, wound up being protected. On top of that, she had let the other be injured. This must have caused her to fall into despondency, enough to result in service outage. However, with time, she had rebooted and was rousing herself up once more to get through this situation.

“I understand that I should refrain from the use of force in an art gallery. But should we not place human lives above the artworks?”

——Whose fault do you think it is that I got hit on the back of my head?

Because she was saying the most obvious thing with the most serious face, Dietfried grabbed the collar where her brooch resided, taking the brooch along, without thinking. The thread that fastened the ribbon-tie dress’s button let out a screech. It was not the kind of deed that a gentleman would do to a lady. But Dietfried did not loosen the strength that he put into his grip.

“You... Do you still need disciplining from me?” he said, voice filled with rage, close enough for their faces to touch. “Think of this as a place that can hardly compare to any other... This thing’s pretty important for you, isn’t it?”

After blinking with a snap, she opened her mouth once, then closed it.

Once Dietfried’s hand let go of her, she grasped the brooch as if to protect it. She was more concerned about the brooch than the crumpled bust of her dress. She stroked it over and over, making sure that it had not been damaged.

Finally, she whispered in a dazed state, “I understand.”

“As if an idiot could,” Dietfried said with a snort, yet the other was a poker-faced Auto-Memories Doll. No matter how much he hurt her, it would have no effect. That was what Dietfried had thought.

“I understood completely. I will avoid combat here as much as possible.” Alas, her voice sounded a little faint.

Dietfried stared at Violet from the corners of his eyes. The brooch was indeed important to her. She was holding it down with both hands. She did not want anyone to touch it – that was what she was indicating. The two of them were speaking in an awfully low tone, but her timbre just now was as thin as the cry of a mosquito.

Dietfried said with a somewhat softer voice, “Good that you get it. I’m indebted to the owner of this gallery. I’m gonna choose the best I can for her sake too.”

“All right.”

“Human lives are the priority, of course. But we’re not gonna fight in a stupid way.”

Like a child, Violet nodded repeatedly.

“You’ve only ever been doing body guarding, murders and military action, and that’s why you don’t understand. In the sea... In fleet battles, we fight to protect. Our way of thinking is different from those who fight to conquer.”

“To protect...”

“If you can’t put brakes on them at sea, the enemies go to land. The reason why Leidenschaftlich is called a military nation ain’t just the army’s achievement. I’ve... never taught you how to fight at sea, huh... For now, forget the method of destroying and taking control of everything. Learn from my ways.”

“Understood.”

Dietfried was inwardly surprised at the obedient reply. Rather, even more than this, he was surprised that he and the “beast” were able to have mutual comprehension.

When she was in his hands, this beautiful Auto-Memories Doll was a “wild beast” that did not know how to speak, as well as a tool. An incontrollable beast, to boot.

“Still, if that is how it is, please do not forget that your wellbeing is my top priority all the more. I shall fight to protect you, Captain. Please do not think of protecting me for Lord Gilbert’s sake. If necessity arises, I will not might if you use me as a shield. I can be replaced, but there is no substitute for you.”

If, at that time...

“This is also linked to protecting Lord Gilbert.”

...in that place...

“Bye, Monster. This guy’s your next master.”

...he had educated and guided her instead of letting her go, would she have grown up the same way?

“Shut up.”

Would she have thought like that?

“Shut up, Monster.”

He had never even thought about it.

Another side of him immediately answered “no” to the self-questioning. Surely, a Violet Evergarden raised by Dietfried Bougainvillea would not have turned out like this. He might have at least taught her how to talk. They would have trouble communicating otherwise. He would have probably given her clothes and personal belongings for daily life. Bringing her along when walking around would look bad for him.

However, when it came to whether or not he would have bestowed this girl with something that would be enveloped in her hands with utmost zeal...

——I see; so it’s the same color as Gilbert’s eyes. That brooch.

...he would undeniably have not.

——Come to think of it, she was always following me around from behind ‘cause she hated being alone.

If there was anything he could have done for her, it was to at least fill up a coffin with flowers and leave it available for her. He did not intend for anything to happen, but he might have done that much. After all, if Violet had stayed beside Dietfried Bougainvillea, she would have surely died before him, for his sake.

“We’re gonna do an act.”

——Aah, Gilbert.

“An act?”

——I’m always late to realize how great you are.

“That’s right. You’re the one who suggested it, so I’m gonna make you into a decoy.”

——You’ve made that filthy beast into this.

“Understood.”

——You were able to change her like this.

“First, take this... It’s late for that, but... you got any questions about a joint struggle with me?”

As Dietfried asked, Violet responded with her neck tilted, “Why...? I do not.”

For whatever reason, his former weapon would show scraps of emotion only at times like these. Just innocently, unaware that it was merciless of her.

“Please use me correctly, Captain.” She smiled.

   Why had robbers attacked the Artemisia Gallery?

There was a certain amount of history that led to such violence unfolding amidst everyday life. Firstly, it would be preferable to start with the time when a turning point happened in the life of the robbery’s main offender, but that would be rewinding too far. On to a brief explanation.

This case was a crime committed by a habitual criminal.

There were various reasons for people to rob, yet the advantage was but one. Earning compensation within a short period. Good citizens would be paid for their work, but thieves did not share this mentality. People received rewards through serving others. In order to gather a large sum, a long time and effort were necessary. Thieves abdicated from this. To achieve success, no matter in what land, a person had to be equipped with skills as a rule of thumb.

If one could stop after doing it once, why did they do it countless times? There were people here and there who thought this about criminals. It was because, if they had succeeded once, they could do it again. They were instantly able to attain things that they would have to spend a long time out of their lives to earn. This was the arrival of an opportunity to do that.

Once one got used to it, identifying opportunities was surprisingly easy.

Supposing that there was someone who excelled at predicting people’s thoughts. The other person’s personality would be determined by the movements of their eyes, the way they breathed, their voice tone, the relationships of power in their background, their social position and other such things, so one would be able to deduce what kind of conduct should be taken in order to derive the “correct answer”. It seemed like magic at first glance, but it was no more than the result of someone continuously keeping watch on another person for many years.

Since this was a strategy against individual matches, the robbers needed a slightly better ability to grasp the environment. As they were walking around the city, they incidentally found out that a new gallery was going to open. The opening date was also announced. It appeared that there would be an event only for those concerned on the day before.

No matter the establishment, dealing flawlessly with the inauguration of a new shop was difficult. Even if there were people in it who already had experience working in a gallery, but the use of their abilities to have control over such a situation and proceed with it smoothly was different. Employees would be in quite a panic on the day. If it was a members-only celebration day, there was no mistaking that the original state of the security that should be guarding the gallery would be insufficient.

And so, the robbers had thought, “Aah, if you poke this place, it’ll surely crumble down.”

They did not have any grudges in particular. They had simply judged that they could do it, thus undergoing the assault. The truth was merely that the Artemisia Gallery had been unlucky.

How many hardships the owner had gone through until she was able to open the gallery, had she lived her life bowing her head to other people? How many artists were looking forward to seeing their work exhibited in the gallery? The feelings of such people could be trampled miserably at times.

Not that many people paid any mind to weeds when walking. That was all. Except, this time, the Artemisia Gallery had been lucky about just one thing.

“No good... Hum, excuse me...! She suddenly...!”

A naval captain who loved art...

“Ugh...”

...and the woman who used to be called Leidenschaftlich’s War Maiden were amongst the hostages.

The man who had caused a commotion and pleaded to one of the robbers in a panic raised both of his hands as a display of no resistance. He was a long-haired a man. His slightly curvy dark hair went past his shoulders. Right next to him was a woman holding her stomach and trembling.

“What?”

A few armed men gathered around them.

“It seems her stomach hurts.”

“Just a stomach ache? Leave it alone.”

“You’re telling us to let her go to the bathroom? We still gotta watch these people. Besides, she’s a woman. If someone takes her to the toilet... Well, how much stuff did we get?”

“We’ve piled most of the paintings in the carrier, but there’s still the ornaments. It’s still gonna take a while.”

The robbers had a choice. The option to either silently let her suffer or kindly take her to the restroom. Beating only the men was likely one of their policies. They did not hesitate to make use of violence when needed, but when it was not, it was best to have as least animosity as possible in order to get through with things unobtrusively and quickly take the treasure. It seemed gentlemanly but was a self-righteous thinking.

“What do we do? The Head is...”

“The Head got in the car first. As if we can ask him stuff like this every single time it happens.”

“Head” probably referred to the member worthy of being their chief.

As the quiet exchanges continued in front of the agonizing woman, she finally lay down on the floor while still holding onto her stomach. The man who had appealed about her bad condition shook her shoulders, telling her to “hang in there”.

As if she had received a signal, the woman raised her face slowly. Her gemstone-like blue eyes were visible through the gaps between her disheveled golden hair. She was covering her mouth, perhaps trying not to vomit. Even so, it was easy to tell that the woman’s looks were remarkably good.

“It’s gonna take a while, huh. Besides, we’re gonna need the women later.”

Her eyes locked with one of robber’s as though sucking him in. One would not understand the destructive power that having this woman look up at them from their feet with her eyes wet had, unless they witnessed it themselves.

“Then, I guess it’s okay.”

From the vulgar smile of the man who had said so, one could presume what his intentions were. As the woman was covering her mouth, the robber instructed her to stand up, pointing his gun at her, and then took her to the restroom.

After that, the woman and the robber did not return for a while. Since there were no other people who mustered out the courage to say that they wanted to use the toilet, the period of their absence passed as if it were natural. In the meantime, the gallery’s exhibits were being carried one after another to cars with roof racks parked outside the establishment. The robbers were dressed as employees who worked with the transportation of goods, so even those walking down the street did not think there was anything strange about that work scene.

Once they had finished relocating most of the merchandises, one of the cars left the gallery. The other one that remained parked was meant for the getaway of those who were keeping watch. With the artworks that had been collected for the sake of this day snatched away down to the last one, the gallery was bare. The owner, Artemisia, had all the while been suppressing her cries and shedding tears.

Apparently, those thieves were quite the habitual criminals. They had threatened everyone with armed force upon entering the establishment, robbing people of any resistance, but after that, as long as everyone stayed still, they would do nothing but coldly keep control of the hostages, not even raising their voices. If people did as told, they would not lose their lives. That hope made the hostages obedient. Even though they were robbers, this seamless way of dealing with people was like that of artisans. They did not think of humans as humans.

“Excuse me; I just... want to lend her a handkerchief. That’s all. The sleeves of her clothes are already soaked with tears. Can’t you allow just this much?”

Hearing a voice from the back, Artemisia turned around. It came from one of the artists that she had invited over for today, whom she had known for quite some time. She was shaken by a sense of guilt that she had done something terrible to him as well.

Their first meeting had started at a certain recreational facility, when she peeked from behind while he was painting a landscape. She did not know his occupation, but they kept in touch and she had him show her his art. It seemed he had always been drawing as a hobby. He told her that even most of the people who were close to him did not know he painted, and that he had truly only been doing it for himself.

The busy man had weaved his way through spare time and the work he brought had swayed Artemisia’s senses. At first, he had hesitated at her request to put it on display, but then smiled like a boy and gave her his ready consent, looking happy.

——Aah, God. Please give it back. Please give that fun time back to everyone.

Artemisia was upset and vexed at the fact that the artworks were being stolen, but more than anything, it felt like the regret towards everyone who had been looking forward to this day would split her chest open.

“Hey, he told you to use this.”

He had lent a handkerchief to Artemisia through one of the robbers. Artemisia wiped her tears and managed to lock eyes with him somehow. She then mouthed a “thank you” to him without letting out her voice.

The man smiled. But it was not the smile that Artemisia knew. He was different when he talked about art. She had shivers before she could think. His eyes were not smiling.

“                              .”

The man said something to Artemisia. As he had only moved his lips, Artemisia could not tell whether she had been able to read what he tried to convey. She could not, but most likely, he had said:

“It’ll be over soon.”

Eventually, the robbers started to create an atmosphere of evacuation at last.

“Let’s take one person with us until we leave the harbor. Can be a woman or kid. Which do we choose?”

“Woman it is.”

“That guy was playing around with the woman we were planning to use for that, wasn’t he? What happened to him?”

Assuming that they would finally be freed, the hostages started fidgeting. They had faced a disaster and the artworks that they had dedicated their lives to making had been stolen. This joyful day had been repainted into despair. But they were alive. That was the one and only bright side of today. They would not be able to maintain their rationality unless they comforted themselves with that. At any rate, they wanted to hurry and be liberated.

Amongst them, there was a man who merely observed the robbers’ movements in silence all the while. It was the man who had been caring for a woman that had a stomachache, looking worried. Once the woman had been taken to the restroom, he became expressionless, as if he had lost interest in everything. Occasionally, there were moments when he even yawned in secret, as if he had grown sleepy.

“Go call him. We could use that woman as hostage. She’s young, so she can come back walking if we throw her away on the street.”

Hearing these words, the man let out his voice and laughed. By the looks of it, he had not intended to laugh, but wound up doing so. He put a hand to his mouth, but then shrugged and let the robbers see it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make fun of you. But trying to rape that thing, huh? No matter how many lives you have, it wouldn’t be enough.”

“Hey, what’s with you...? Got a complaint or something...?”

The man kept laughing, as though to say that the robbers’ threatening figures were even more comical. With her eyes, the owner, Artemisia, begged the man provoking the robbers to restrain himself, for she could not afford to lose not only the artworks that she had collected but also a guest that she had invited, yet the man closed one eye at that and replied, “Artemisia, it’s okay.”

No one in this place knew his social status. Or his history.

In the past, Dietfried Bougainvillea used to wield a weapon that could become the world’s best. It was now away from his grasp, but it was not as if their master-servant connection had been completely severed. The beast had a high level of loyalty, so although they had met by chance after a long time, her heart recognized it. That he was the one she had been following in the past – someone worth being served by her. Therefore, the beast would attend him to exhaustion.

Only a limited number of people could handle the beast. The feeling that she had returned to his hands for now was somewhat strange.

“She runs quick.”

“Ha?”

“That’s why it’s the end for you guys. My bad.”

“Hey, shut this dude up.”

As Dietfried had suddenly started talking, the robbers naturally had a doubtful reaction.

“She’s as fast as a deer. And this is the city’s main street, so there are hotels nearby.”

“So, what’re you saying?”

“I left my bodyguards behind to come here today. They’re probably drinking at their room’s bar. There’re also guys among them who know that thing from the time when she was still by my side. I left my hair tie with her, so she should be able to convince them with that. I could predict that you’d take the things you stole to the port. It’s pretty difficult to get away from pursuers on land when you make such a mess in the center of this city. It’s harder to be tracked using the sea route than the land route, right? But the sea route doesn’t work against me. It looks like one vehicle left a while ago, but it’s over by the point they reach the port. You’ll probably go outside now, but if you’re thinking about taking someone along as a hostage, you’d better drop it. Many of my subordinates are hot-blooded. If you rouse them up like that, they’ll probably get too excited. If that happens, you’re the ones who’ll be getting the short end of the stick. No matter how many dead bodies fall down, we can deal with it all we want in the aftermath. We’ll need to get the stories straight, but today’s hostages will surely choose to cooperate with me. Having people trample on the proof of a life that you’ve lived with all your might is painful for anyone.”

The eloquent man did not run out of breath even when speaking nonstop in such a situation. However, this majestic aspect of him was reflected in others’ eyes as dreadful and similar to madness.

The robbers abruptly realized that all the hostages were looking far behind them. They felt that there was something behind them. It was like a ghost, hiding even its flame of life, simply waiting for the orders of its lord.

Outside the windows of the gallery, they could hear the sounds of someone fighting from around the area where the car was parked. Simultaneously, they could hear a faint breathing just behind them.

The respiration of a woman who was out of breath from running loomed over their ears.

“Do it, Violet.” Dietfried raised his thumb and made a swift throat-cutting gesture.

While watching his doll render the robbers unconscious with a strength as overwhelming as a monster eating people, Dietfried reminisced to the past.

——Everything goes around.

He recalled the time when the two of them were stuck in that isolated island.

The beast had been scared when the rescue fleet arrived. So had Dietfried. He would not be able to bear it if more of his comrades were murdered. Hence, he had taken the beast’s hand and guided her to the outside world. In his perception, it was the same as taking the reins.

There were no reins anymore now. No need for him to pull her by the hand when walking, either. There was nothing between them.

Not love, passion, attachment, desire, anything.

“Captain.”

There was nothing, but one thing was for certain.

“Captain Bougainvillea.”

If he called for her, this Auto-Memories Doll would most likely go to the ends of the world to save him. That was her nature.

“I have just returned. Are you unharmed?”

At that moment, the beast was well aware that he had called her name for the very first time. Her eyes were crinkling.

“Yeah.”

Just this much compensation was enough to make the beast smile.

   After a little while passed, Leidenschaftlich was embraced by the gentleness of the night.

Summer constellations were decorating the jet-black sky. Just as sunny as it was during daytime, the night sky was twinkling so brightly this evening that it could be called a banquet of stars. The day was about to end in Leidenschaftlich. Today was filled with chaos ever since morning.

While being observed by gathered-up onlookers, the arrest drama that had unfolded in front of the Artemisia Gallery was already coming to a conclusion, its many procedures and processing passed over to the military police. Seeing the stolen artworks safely re-delivered to Artemisia, Dietfried took a breather. His gaze then fleetingly drifted to the side. A dirtied ceramic doll was standing there. A woman beautiful enough to look like such, who shone amidst the night, was standing there. He had to say something to her. As one would expect, he should do that at least now. But he could not think of anything.

——“You did well”. “That wasn’t too bad”. “Good work”. “I commend you”... Which one?

Inside his head, words were being conceived and then disappearing. Just like the dreams that the sleeping children all around Leidenschaftlich were surely seeing right now. They were born and then vanished.

At last, he attempted to open his mouth, “Aren’t you cold?”

“It is summer, after all.”

And ended up talking to her like a man who was unused to inviting women out.

Violet Evergarden, who had been fighting reasonably and in order to protect, was still by Dietfried’s side. It was fitting to say that she had been today’s most meritorious person. The one who had come up with the idea of the arrest operation was Dietfried, but the one who had done all the work for it was Violet.

First, she had put up the woman-with-a-stomachache act and gone with one of the robbers to the restroom. She had then quietly strangled the neck of the man who had reached a hand to her shoulder with her mechanical prosthetic arms, making him pass out.

She had broken out and escaped through the restroom’s window. Rather than going to the military police, she had gone to the hotel that Dietfried instructed her to and notified the naval soldiers, who were enjoying cigarettes and drinks in a room on the top floor, of the circumstances. One of the soldiers, who happened to know her, had been frightened at first, but upon seeing that she had been entrusted with Dietfried’s ribbon, his facial expression changed and he contacted the military police, then informed the port’s security to reinforce their inspections.

Without waiting for them to get ready, she had immediately run back to the Artemisia Gallery and infiltrated it through the same route. A few of the robbers, who had the bad luck of spotting her, fell to the ground with one kick or punch to the abdomen, and so, she had finally returned. As Violet stood behind the remaining robbers while catching her breath, the hostages stared as if she were their safety, but Dietfried was sneering as he looked at her.

Just as ordered, she had saved Dietfried without damaging a single artwork.

“About what happened...”

“It will probably be best not to tell Lord Gilbert. He would worry.”

Upon seeing the last artwork be brought in, Violet took the trolley bag that lay by her feet. She likely intended to go home by herself.

After making her do so much, something similar to guilt was now sprouting within Dietfried. He wound up acknowledging that she, too, was important to someone. That was what he thought after the battle, when he saw Violet stroking her emerald brooch as if to confirm that it was there.

Even though she used to be a wild beast whom no one would mourn if she died.

——Aah, that’s an excuse. It’ll be nothing but an excuse. If so, then I don’t wanna say it.

Back then, when she was by Dietfried’s side, every single day was filled with madness on all accounts. They used to roam around battlefields, fighting from dawn to dusk, growing too accustomed to violence. The war then ended, peace had returned, and he realized that an era in which he could even make art was arriving. That those times were abnormal and the way he felt now was the default.

“I’ll take you home.”

“No need. Your escorts must be waiting, so please, feel free to take your leave, Captain.”

“It’s fine; just this time. I’ll take you home.”

“No need.”

“I’ll take you. Listen up, this is an order.”

“I cannot accept your command.”

“You little... You were taking action like I instructed you to just a while ago.”

“Because it was a state of emergency... Besides, Captain Dietfried, it would be reasonable if I were to take you home, but the opposite is illogical.”

“What’re you talking about? You’re a woman, aren’t you?”

“A woman”. Finding himself asserting this with his own mouth, Dietfried regretted it even more.

The corner of Violet’s lips had a cut and blood was coming out of it. Her ribbon-tie dress was drenched in sweat. Even those who did not sweat much would be like this after such a huge scuffle during summertime.

“I’m calling a carriage. It’s all right; just wait right there. I’ll see you off until you get inside the Evergarden house. And then it’s goodbye. We’ll never see each other again. No matter what you and Gil become, we’ll never see each other again.”

What he had done today to this woman, who had become fully able to accept someone’s love, was not something that a son of the Bougainvillea should ever do to a lady.

After they had hopped into the carriage, a moment of silence went on for a while.

——Is it okay for her to keep such an open secret even though those two are a couple?

Dietfried found himself accidentally concerned about his younger brother’s love life. After all, this situation might be a betrayal to his dearest brother. Gilbert had completely forgiven Dietfried. For pushing the headship succession onto him. For not having any consideration for their family. For forcing an indescribable wild beast onto him. He had forgiven everything.

Thinking back, the only time that he attempted to push Dietfried away, saying he would not forgive him, had been when Dietfried offered Violet to him. He had called it “human trafficking”. Told Dietfried not to be violent with a child.

Most likely, those two were each other’s only exception from the very beginning. There was probably no pardoning what Dietfried had done to Violet today. Gilbert would forgive most things. Save for matters related to the one and only thing that was most important to him. Being hated by a loved one. This could cast a shadow over anyone’s heart, regardless of how old they were.

“It is all right.” The voice that cut through the silence was thrown at him as if to soothe him down. The words sounded almost as if she had perceived Dietfried’s uneasiness. “If, by any chance... word ends up reaching him through someone else about this case, I will definitely defend you, Captain Dietfried.”

“‘Defend’, you say?”

“To tell the truth, I often get involved in large-scale incidents without Major knowing. But I return without fail. To Leidenschaftlich. I will return today as well. Therefore, we are all right.”

“What do you do out there?”

“We were separated for much too long. Therefore, we have many moments that the other does not know about in the first place. Perhaps even now, too. I have work to do and so does he. We have limited time to see each other. However, I will definitely always return to Major. He knows this as well. Even when we are apart, that person is the only one who occupies my mind. I am not sure if I convey it to him properly, but that is how it is.”

Her statements were something that would normally make him burst into laughter, but Dietfried was unable to do so.

——When did you become like that?

Dietfried hated Violet. Several factors had induced his emotions to it.

——Now you can correspond to someone’s love.

He saw himself overlap with her. Her subservience to adults and the way that she herself wanted it disgusted him. He despised the wild beast that did not yearn for freedom. Despised the fact that she had been trained by someone to be this way. Despised everything. To begin with, Dietfried did not have many things that he liked.

Even the number of people who could become kind had a limit.

The truth was that, even if he wanted to be kind, it was no longer possible. He had prayed to God for it countless times in the past. However, unable to achieve this, a man named Dietfried Bougainvillea existed.

——O God, I want to, he begged a certain Someone in his mind for the first in a long time. Perhaps since his childhood.

Still, this sort of being did not give any reply to calls. Even now, he had no idea if his plea had reached Him. It was certainly impossible. His and Violet’s stars were in a position that would not radically change.

Nevertheless, for some reason, he had the overwhelming desire to ask someone for forgiveness today.

——I wanna go back.

Not even he knew where to.

——Hurry and be over, this day, today and the time I have to spend with her.

He was not annoyed.

——O God, I want to...

But painfully miserable.

“Captain.”

The carriage ran amongst trees dyed in the darkness of the night. A cool voice echoed amidst them.

Violet was looking at the scenery outside. She was observing the moon, which chased after them, no matter how far, far apart they were.

The moon was something that would continue to exist forever. Unlike stories. Regardless of whether Dietfried concerned himself with it, everything about his story would come to a closing one day as well. Demise would arrive even to the things that he did not wish to ever be over. Even the feelings he had now would end.

“How was I today?”

“What?”

“Did my work earn your satisfaction today?”

Dietfried could not read the intentions behind Violet’s question at all. She was someone whose emotions he could not read in the first place, but it was even harder to understand the meaning of that sentence.

“What do you want to say?”

Silence.

“Hey, just say it straight. Don’t be dodgy with me.”

“All right,” the cool voice entered his ears once more. Such coldness resembled the night, but it never left his ears, easy as it was to catch.

Violet turned her neck and cast her gaze at him. Slowly, blue and green eyes blended with each other.

“I...”

Bathed in moonlight, she was simply, purely beautiful, enough to take Dietfried’s breath away.

“When I was with you, Lord Dietfried, my work was never satisfactory. Now that I became an adult, have I finally been able to repay my debt... with my work?”

“What d’you mean by ‘debt’?”

His voice was hoarse. He suddenly felt as if this icy woman had robbed his entire body of its heat. The inside of his mouth was extremely dry.

“I mean everything. It all started when you brought me from that island. I am the way I am now because you entrusted me to Ma... to Lord Gilbert.”

“If you’d stayed with me, probably nothing good would’ve happened.”

“How would I be if I had continued to serve you?”

These words became a bullet and pierced Dietfried’s heart. He felt as if his breathing would stop at the unexpected question. Things had been like that since the distant past. Dietfried would reconfirm time and time again that she was a woman who could have become a lethal weapon for him.

“So you also imagine a hypothesis... of ‘what if’,” her exquisitely cold voice rang within the darkness. Upon being asked, “You too?”, Violet nodded.

That was his line, Dietfried thought, but Violet then sent his gemstone eyes a dream-like gaze. His existence might be devoid of realism to her.

Violet began to whisper. If only she had disobeyed that order back then. If only she had rushed to him a step faster at that time.

“Back then, if”. “Back then, if”. “Back then, if”.

She could not bring myself not to think that, if only she had had this extra step, he would not have lost that emerald eye.

“Besides, I wonder... if I had managed to protect him back then...”

She had to let go of her most beloved lord’s hand and was entrusted to someone else as if she had been thrown away.

“...I would not have had to spend that time away from Major.”

Thinking back, she had always been abandoned and then picked up by somebody. She should have been used to it. That was the star she had been born under.

She was originally a foreign body to this world and was supposed to have been eliminated. Her destiny had also flowed in this way. The reason why Violet had rebelled against her sectioned path, despite having been tamely submitting herself to it, was that the other was special.

——I also threw her away.

He had thrown his home away. Thrown away his little brother, who cried in protest. And thrown away this beast.

“I also wonder what would have happened if you had not left me with Major.”

This woman.

“But all of these are akin to dreams, crossing my mind and fading away. After passing through countless ‘if’s, I...”

He had pushed this woman onto his brother and forsaken her. Looking at her made him sick. He was also scared of her. Most importantly, he would have stopped being himself. This terrified him.

“And now, I have become an Auto-Memories Doll and am spending a night with you.”

This woman possessed an element that transmuted people.

“Y’know, you’ll be alone one day. You’re the one who’s got the longer lifespan, aren’t you?”

Violet closed her eyes at those words. If she had pictured numerous “if”s, this would obviously come to mind as well.

“I do not know.”

“If that happens, what’re you gonna do?”

“I do not know. But are you not the same as me when it comes to this? You love him, right?”

“I’m... I’m the older one. I’ll be gone sooner.”

“No one knows about that. But... if, one day... I do become alone... if I am left living by myself... my order will still be valid. I will probably live on.”

If she ended up living by herself, this supposition was the cruelest of things to the beast. Just what did he want to do by making her say this now?

Thinking back, ever since they had first met, he had not known how to deal with her. Should he have protected her? Killed her? Protected? Killed? Or perhaps...

“That is why I write letters every day. Even if they do not reach him, I write letters to Major every single day.”

Silence.

“Captain, what will you do?”

“Me, huh? I... let’s see. Paint, I guess.”

“A painting or Major?”

“That’s right.”

“May I go see it?”

To Dietfried Bougainvillea, this wild beast was both a woman and a monster from the very beginning. She was now as far-off as a dream.

“You’re the only one of my relatives who knows I paint. Do whatever you want.”

   ——O God, I want to be a good person.

#violet evergarden #fyeahvioletevergarden #veedit #dietfried bougainvillea #kyoani #kyoto animation #akatsuki kana #takase akiko #my translation

[subbing-for-clones]

The Alpha and The Omega Part 2

Alpha Maul x Omega Reader

Summary: Darth Maul becomes Maul and has to figure out how to both survive and thrive in the galaxy on his own. It’s more difficult than he thought it would be, especially after being thrown into a mix of bounty hunters with a unique gene that he also shares that are more than willing to allow him into their pack. Can he learn to trust those around him after a life time of near solitude?

Word Count: 4.9k

WARNINGS: Mentions of death and injuries, hints to slavery. A/B/O dynamics. Maul’s injury is not the canon one

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  No.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to end.

    Maul was falling, plunging into the depths of a reactor shaft on Naboo. He had killed a Jedi Master; finally, after all his years of training and harsh lessons, he had succeeded in this long-awaited trial. He didn’t plan for the Master’s padawan to be so strong and so quick. Right when he had started to celebrate his victory by taunting his opponent who had hung from the very shaft he was falling into, he was caught off guard. The padawan had leapt up, used his fallen Master’s saber and plunged it straight through his chest before kicking him down into the abyss.

    Maul could still feel the padawan’s rage billowing through the surrounding force, his pain and sadness and he took pleasure in it. The fact that he had cracked the padawan’s resolve was a consolation to his failure. He had failed his mission, he had failed himself, he had failed his Master; years wasted. His life, wasted. His eyes widened in a realization and harnessing his physical pain, Maul was able to take hold of an air vent, hoisting himself up and into the tight tunnels and calling the working half of his saber into his grip with a burst of fury through the force.

    Every time he had thought he was able to keep something from Sidious it was revealed that his master had planned his movements long before he made them. No, he had not failed his Master, he had followed his plan accordingly. Sidious wanted him to fall on Naboo; he wanted the Jedi to believe they had once again eradicated the threat of the Sith and take on a new apprentice. Newfound anger at his betrayal fueled him to climb through the ventilation until he finally reached the surface. The wound in his chest was not fatal, it had passed between both of his hearts but still ached and throbbed; the burning of the instant cauterization kept him from bleeding to death. He should have died from the impact of the fall.

    He had to leave, he couldn’t let the Jedi or his master know he had survived. Concealing his force signature like he had had to master years ago, he kept to the shadows. He feared the Jedi would recognize his ship; he knew his master would, so he almost regrettably left it behind. The citizens were still celebrating their false victory drunkenly in the streets so it was far too easy to steal a small ship and escape the planet since the blockade had been eradicated.  

    He made his way to the furthest reaches of the outer rim on the boarder of wild space to evade his master’s detection. He spent a year bouncing between planets, nursing his injury and keeping up his original training by fighting fearsome beasts. When he had returned to his full strength, he dared inch slightly closer to civilization. He had returned to Tatooine in hopes of gathering some supplies despite his almost empty purse.

    He had fallen into bounty hunting by accident. He came across a small moisture farm and with the intent to rob it, had found himself face to face with an utterly terrified Twi’lek male. Maul was about to unsheathe his weapon but stopped when the man before him dropped to his knees.

“Please! Please don’t take me back to Jabba! I know he has a price on my head but I can’t go back there!” sobs cracked through his words and Maul grimaced in disgust at the man’s weakness. “I- I don’t have much but I’ll pay you what I can if you leave me alone and forget you ever saw me. Please.”

     Maul did no such thing. With the promise of credits, he ignited his blade and took the man’s head in one fell swoop. Carrying his head over his shoulder by one of the Twi’lek’s lekku along with the credits he had offered him for his freedom, he made his way to Jabba’s palace to collect a reward. Sure enough, he was promised a handsome sum for killing the thief and presenting his head to Lord Jabba.

    He sat at a small table in the corner of the cantina while he awaited his pay. He scanned the room, taking note of every patron and exit while the band played music he didn’t care for. His eyes met the visor of who he assumed was a bounty hunter under Jabba’s employ. The Mandalorian warrior strode over to him slowly after muttering something to one of the servant girls. The man pulled the only other chair out from Maul’s table and settled himself down in it, followed quickly by the girl carrying two amber bottles. She gave a dainty bow before she trotted away, leaving the two men in a heavy silence.

    Maul could smell him; he didn’t feel like a threat to him per say as he could tell the Mandalorian wasn’t a force user, but he did waft a heady scent that made the flesh on the back of Maul’s neck raise up. He bared his teeth to the man and growled before taking a swig of the bottle; never taking his eyes off of the stranger in front of him.

“Easy there Alpha. I’m not here to start trouble.” Maul pretended like he wasn’t confused by the title he had been assigned. Some bounty hunter lingo perhaps.

“I haven’t seen you around here or around the guilds before. How long have you been hunting?” the man never removed his helmet to drink his beer, rather placed a metal straw in the opening and sipped it from under his helm.

“Not long,” Maul wanted to give this man as little information as possible without rousing suspicion. He had interacted with bounty hunters before and was under the impression they didn’t ask questions, unlike the Mandalorian. Maul watched intently as the man reached into his utility belt and pulled out a card before sliding it across the table in his direction. He quirked his brow ridge at the man waiting for an explanation.

“We tend to take care of our own. Guild Master on this card has a set up on Corellia. She’s a mated Omega, she’ll help you get started up, might be able to pull a few strings and get you into the Guild,” he rapped his knuckles once on the table and stood as a Gamorrian Guard approached with Maul’s payment. He took the purse quickly and made his way to the exit but not before shooting the stranger one last glance.

“Good luck out there brother,” he rasped through his vocoder and giving a lazy two finger salute.

      Maul made his way back across the desert as night was starting to fall, a relief from the blistering heat. He had some strange exchanges in his life but none that had left him so confused. Why had the man called him Alpha and referred to him as a brother? What in the name of the force was a mated Omega? He had never heard of that species before despite his Master’s thorough tutelage. He sat in the cockpit of his ship holding the card in his crimson and tattooed fingers, lost in thought. He hadn’t considered what his life would turn into with his newfound freedom.

    He knew he wanted revenge and the notoriety he was promised, how he would achieve it on his own he had no clue. He considered how he might be able to gain influence in the underworld and high contacts should he become a renowned bounty hunter. He had the skillset for it. He needed the credits too. Sighing, he punched in the coordinates to Corellia, confident in the idea that his Master was convinced of his demise and made his way there.

    He never much liked Corellia, he had been here several times before. Despite the fact that it was easy to get lost in a crowd, it was also difficult to perceive incoming threats if he dropped his guard. He wandered through the streets, keeping to the alleyways when he could with the hood of his black cloak pulled over his head, obscuring others’ ability to see his face. He glanced down between the card in his hand and the neon signs above the various businesses. Trying to locate a cantina called The Den, supposedly in Coronet owned by a Theelin named Zeni.

    Sure enough, after rounding a dozen corners he finally found a hole in the wall with a little sign that read The Den, in red lights. Two characters he didn’t recognize from any languages he was familiar with, unlit, one painted on either side of the basic neon lettering. He pushed open the heavy door and was pleasantly surprised to find it larger than it looked on the inside. The room was dark, lit by low glowing lights. Cigar smoke wafted lazily through the air but not so much that it made you choke. Various tapestries and flags decorated the walls along with photographs of people he wouldn’t have been able to recognize if he had cared to try.

Only a few patrons sat scattered around the cantina, their attention on data-pads and bounty pucks. He spotted a dark blue haired, purple skinned Theelin behind the bar chatting flirtatiously with a large Chiss male.

    A scent, different but akin to the one the Mandalorian had permeated the room, swirling with a strong flowery one. The odd pair’s eyes snapped up to him the moment the door closed behind the Zabrak. He took a bar stool a few seats down from the Chiss and stared straight ahead, feeling the man’s eyes narrow in his direction. The Theelin woman he assumed was Zeni strode over to him after patting the Chiss’s arm affectionately.  

“Don’t mind him, you know how Alphas get when unmated ones come around their Omega,” she was absentmindedly wiping down the dark bar with a damp rag before setting a glass down, “what can I get for you?”

Maul reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out her card and set it down on the counter.

“I was told you were the one to come to if I wanted to join the guild.”

“You got a sponsor? Proof of successful hunts?” she quirked a brow at him as the man he assumed was her mate kept a close eye on him. Maul was confused.

“I wasn’t aware you needed a sponsor to join the Guild.”

“Not the collective no, but if you wanna join this house you’ll need someone to vouch that you’re not an over aggressive Alpha or too submissive Omega,” the Chiss answered before Zeni could. Leaning across the empty space he extended a hand, “Call me Coth, Zeni’s Alpha.” Maul hesitantly took the man’s hand and gave a firm, curt shake, “Maul.”

“You’re unmated,” Coth stated, it wasn’t a question. Maul at least understood what that meant.

“I do not have a mate no. Is that important?”

“No,” Zeni cut in, “we’ve quite a few lone Alphas in our ranks, few unmated Omegas too, as long as you don’t give the girls too much trouble, we won’t have a problem.”

Maul was getting frustrated with the terms he didn’t understand, “What are these Alphas and Omegas? I’ve only heard of them over the last few days from another bounty hunter. Is this some kind of title?”

The mated pair exchanged a bewildered look, “You don’t know?” Coth asked. Maul simply stared at them while Zeni sighed heavily and reached behind her, pouring a massive amount of liquor into the empty glass she had placed in front of Maul. Coth had scooted over to sit next to him.

“He wouldn’t be the first,” he started, “do you remember when ‘Meg first came around with Bane? She didn’t know hardly anything. Terrified of every Alpha she smelled, poor thing.”

“Of course I remember, I wouldn’t let her catch you referring to her as a ‘poor thing’. She’s probably our best Omega, she does work for the collective too now, not just our house. Still don’t know where she came from. I think Bane knows but you know how he is. Moves around a lot that girl, just like he does.” Coth nodded at Zeni’s words before turning his attention back to Maul who was only half listening at this point as he nursed his liquor.

“Long story short, it’s a gene. It’s why you can smell me and my honey there. You’ve got the Alpha which makes you stronger, faster and a bit smarter than the rest of your species.”

Maul mulled over Coth’s words. From what he had learned, most of his kind from Dathomir had some kind of connection to the force, perhaps this added gene was why he was chosen to be Sidious’s apprentice.

“And what of the Omega?” he turned to Zeni and she grinned. “Same deal for the most part but we always fall in line behind our mighty Alphas,” she leaned over the bar pinched her lover’s cheek and gave him a playful growl before turning her attention back to the Zabrak.

“Listen I’ll cut you some slack, if you got this card, it means someone in our house gave it to you so you caught someone’s eye. Who gave it to you anyway?”

“I never got a name, he was a Mandalorian at Jabba’s palace.” Coth’s eyes gleamed, “Interesting, he’s never recruited anyone before.” Coth stared off into the corner of the bar while Zani spoke up again.

“Like I said I’ll cut you a break Maul, I can’t just grant you instant access to the guild’s bounty list; especially without a sponsor but if you can consistently turn in public bounties through us for six months and prove to be reliable, I’ll grant you membership and you can start taking some pucks,” she looked to her mate for a final approval. He gave her a curt nod and she refilled Maul’s drink with a pleased smile, “what do you say?”

Maul shot back the last of the liquor and stood, “prove my worth, join the ranks. Sounds reasonable..”

Coth also stood and retrieved a data-pad with a list of public bounties, “good, here. Take your pick, bring em back to us and you’ll get the reward through our broker.”

      Over the next two months Maul proved to be an almost mechanically reliable hunter. He only ever took bounties that were listed with the option to bring them in dead, made his job easier. He found that it wasn’t as lucrative as he had hoped but he was only taking public bounties at the moment. They tended to be cheap but there were a lot at his disposal. The jobs were too easy for him, he was a born hunter and a trained killer yet he was hunting down mostly thieves who stole from the wrong people. His strength through the force came to every advantage, he enjoyed toying with his victims; making them run, giving them a false hope that they would escape but they never could.

    To say he liked the other hunters at the Den would’ve been an overstatement but he didn’t necessarily dislike them either. Zeni was always friendly and welcoming when he came to drop off the bodies and collect his pay. Coth was as pleasant as an Alpha could be to another. He slowly started picking up social ques about the sub culture. Alphas were fiercely protective of their Omegas and although the Omegas were a force to be reckoned with all on their own; he realized how true Zeni’s earlier statement had been. They always fell in line behind their Alphas and their Alphas took great care of them. He still hadn’t met an Omega that wasn’t already mated and he wasn’t sure that he wanted to; the bond looked like an anchor, a distraction.

    After collecting a series of quarries, he returned once again to Corellia to collect. When he entered the familiar cantina, a new scent almost knocked him out with its intensity. It was soft and earthy, lightly floral but incredibly strong. Noticing that Zeni was preoccupied talking to a woman at the bar with Coth by her side he took a seat in one of the empty booths and started looking through the newly available bounties from the public database trying to push through the fog that clouded his mind. He could just barely sense an individual in his proximity that had a strong connection to the force and it made him bristle.

 ~~~~~

      Your pupils blew out the moment the scent hit your nose. You had been around your fair share of unmated Alphas by now but you had never been so affected before. You turned away from Zeni to scan the bar and your eyes fell on someone you had never seen in the cantina before. A crimson Zabrak’s eyes bored into yours for only a moment before he turned back to whatever it was he was doing. Zeni had to wave her lilac hand in front of your face to bring your attention back to her while Coth chuckled, obviously aware of how you were affected.

“Who the fuck is that?” you asked nodding your head in his direction. Coth quieted down long enough to answer you.

“Name’s Maul. New to the game, Fett gave him the card but he doesn’t have a sponsor.”

“Never heard of Fett handing out your card,” you quirked your brow over to Zeni.

“As far as I know he never has. Maul must’ve had some crazy strong pheromones going off to catch that Alphas attention,” she chirped, “since it was Fett who extended the invitation and he’s obviously an Alpha I told him he can take public bounties and cash em in here for a while ‘till he proves to be a good addition to our pack.”

    You nodded pensively before downing your drink. His scent was heady, a strong woody and musty, lightly smoky smell that heated your muscles under your skin. You had finished your heat recently so you were confident that the only pheromones you were releasing were your normal Omega ones. Still, you felt his eyes on you and you could feel the dark side of the force surrounding him. Interesting.

“How’s he doing? Why doesn’t he have a sponsor?” you tried to ask nonchalantly while you looked through the pucks Coth had set out for you to take your pick from.

“He won’t ask for sponsorship and no one’s offered. He’s doing great considering he didn’t have a clue he was an Alpha when he first wondered in here.”

“He didn’t?” the mirrored déjà vu was not lost on you.

“Nope, but he’s taken care of the most dangerous thieves that have been posted publicly, finds em quick too,” Coth praised, “plus he’s left the mated Omegas alone, hasn’t challenged any of the other Alphas either. Keeps to himself, still doesn’t have a mate as far as I can tell,” he gave you a not-so-subtle wink and jab with his elbow.

You glared at him from under the rim of your hat. “So he needs a sponsor..” you turned your attention back to Zeni picking up three of the pucks and sliding the rest back to Coth.

“I’m way ahead of you ‘Meg,” she set two glasses with a few ice cubes in front of you and a full bottle of whisky; the spicy kind you liked, and turned her love sick gaze back to the Chiss she called her mate. You took the glasses and the bottle and turned to walk towards the strange Alpha.

    You watched a scantily dressed Twi’lek slide into the worn booth next to him and try to mutter something into his ear, you smirked when he made an effort to scoot away from her but this woman was persistent. She had no scent, she wasn’t an Omega, she had no business trying to woo an Alpha. Fucking Betas, you thought. They made up the majority of the population and couldn’t tell the difference between Alphas, Omegas and their kind. She didn’t notice you while you set the glasses down softly on the table; bottle still in hand. When you cleared your throat, she looked up at you with an annoyed huff. You swept your coat to the side, showing the blaster strapped to your thigh, “beat it bitch,” your voice was sultry and smooth but carried an authority only a respected Omega could.

    You watched her scurry away looking frightened and ignored the snorts of amusement coming from the bar. Every patron in the Den knew you and your reputation. You had no problem challenging anyone who stood in your way. Whether that came from the skills you had learned as a Jedi or an attitude you picked up from Bane; you didn’t know and didn’t care. It worked.

    The Alpha said nothing as you glided into the black booth opposite him and slid one of the empty glasses over to him; passing him the bottle once you had poured yourself a generous serving. You allowed yourself to enjoy the spicy malt liquor and watched as he also poured the amber liquid over the ice cubes in his glass. His scent was over powering, it turned your insides into butterflies; something the other Alphas had never done. The pheromones he released told you he was vaguely interested in your presence, welcoming it, almost. But his force signature told you he was wary, waiting to see why you had approached him in the first place.

    For a few minutes the two of you sat in silence, eyes locked on one another while you basked in the other’s aroma and sipped your drinks until you broke the silence.

“So, you’re the new Alpha in town,” you cocked your brow at him.

“That’s what I’ve been told, yes,” he poured himself a second drink and you hummed.

“I hear you’ve been taking up the public listings and doing fairly well for yourself,” you leaned back and stretched your free arm over the back of the booth.

“Is this going somewhere or did you just want to buy me a drink?” the corner of his mouth quirked up and his golden eyes narrowed slightly as he also leaned back, spreading his legs to a more comfortable and dominant position.

You nodded your head, respecting the fact that he valued his time. Still, you made him wait till you finished your drink and sighed. “I also hear you might be in need of a sponsorship.”

“As you said, I’m doing quite well for myself. Not so sure I need one.”

You poured yourself another glass and hummed again, leaning forward towards him and resting on your elbows with your drink clasped between your hands. “That maybe the case but without one it’ll be a while before your granted membership. Even then, new initiates only get last picks.”

“Are you offering me something?” he leaned forward slightly, searching your face for your intentions before you could speak them.

“As a matter of fact, I am. The hunter who sponsored me was high ranking so when I got in; I got better pickings by affiliation. I’m giving you the same chance I had by offering you, my sponsorship.”

“What exactly would I have to do?” he growled. Obviously not keen on the idea of owing anyone anything.

“Nothing you’re not already doing,” you placed the three pucks you had gotten from Zeni on the table and pulled a fourth out of your pocket you had gotten from a private hire. “Come with me and help me take care of these four, come back and collect fifty percent after fuel costs. Simple. After that you’ll have full membership and higher paying bounties to choose from. Few weeks instead of a few months, thousands instead of hundreds.”

    You leaned back and gave him time to look over the information each puck carried. Even if he decided to try to run off with the info and catch them on his own, no guild master would cash him out without a membership. You barely caught the slight widening of his eyes when he saw the cash reward. You felt his need through the force and smelled it from him. You knew he would accept your offer but you allowed him to drag out his answer for a few minutes while he mulled it over.

“Alright,” his voice was velvety, “I’ll play along. When do we leave?”

“Is your ship somewhere you can leave it unattended? We’re taking mine.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Good, meet me at the refueling station by night fall, docking bay number 7. I have to resupply. Bring whatever you’ll need for a few weeks,” you stood and collected your pucks, tucking them safely into the bag that hung from your shoulder, “don’t keep me waiting Alpha,” you cooed before sauntering out of the cantina.

    Maul poured himself a third drink from the bottle you left, he had more than enough time and was hoping to drown out the strange thickness your scent left on his tongue. The seat you left open was quickly filled by none other than Coth. He was grinning dumbly, wide and toothy; his red eyes gleaming.

“Did she offer you a sponsorship?”

“Yes, we’re leaving tonight,” he didn’t quite understand why he felt so comfortable talking to Coth. Perhaps it was because of the pack mentality this house seemed to have, maybe it was something to do with the unique gene they all shared. It could just be because he spent his whole life alone besides his master and although he would never admit it, he marginally preferred occasional company. He wasn’t a threat to this Alpha’s mate and thus Coth wasn’t a threat to him; so, he pressed on, “why is her scent so much… stronger than the other Omegas?”

“Who ‘Meg? She’s unmated. Hasn’t even been scented by another Alpha. Not that no one’s tried. Usually, Omegas are mated shortly after their first heat but she’s been around for three years or so now and she’s a force to be dealt with. Probably the least submissive Omega I’ve ever met. Cad Bane sponsored her and even he respects her.”

“Why did she turn down the others’ advances? I thought Omegas were supposed to be pliant.”

“They are with their Alpha. She’s especially headstrong though. I overheard her chatting with Zeni one time when she actually got pretty smashed, going on about how it would be an honor to submit to an Alpha but it had to be one worthy of submission.”

    Maul nodded and was pleasantly surprised with what he was told. He of all people could understand being willing to fall in line but it had to be to a greater power than the one possessed by the follower, not just anyone. He finished his drink and thanked Coth for the information and gave Zeni an uncharacteristic wave before he left the cantina; much to her delight.

    He made his way back to his ship and gathered a few pairs of extra clothes and the rest of his ration bars in his pack before paying the caretaker of the of the ship yard enough credits to dock his ship there for six weeks. He hoped that would be long enough, Corellia wasn’t exactly cheap to store your ship on for long periods of time. It would be worth it if he really could come back to better prospects. He never sensed that you had lied to him, neither through the force or through your scent. He took his time and bought a few meat kabobs from a vendor on the street before heading to the location you had given him.

    Sure enough, when he arrived at dock 7, he saw you chatting with a Quarren while one of his employees loaded a few crates into your cargo bay. He took a moment to admire you, your scent wasn’t nearly so intoxicating at this distance. He silently appreciated the way the glow from the setting sun lit up behind your silhouette and cast a slight shadow over your face under the brim of your hat but your eyes never lost their glow. How your posture was relaxed and friendly yet carried an air that demanded respect from those around you. You had smiled brightly at something the supplier said and let out a melodious laugh that rang through the cooling dusk. He felt a pang of jealousy that almost startled him. He had no reason to be possessive of you. Still, when you turned to him, a smile still across your lips and motioned him over to you he held a sense of pride with being beckoned to your side. He was utterly fucked, wasn’t he?

 As the two of you walked up the ramp and closed the hatch behind you, you turned to face him.

“You ready for some big game Alpha?” he nodded.

“Maul, my name is Maul.”

“Alright Maul, if that’s what you prefer. Call me ‘Meg.”

Yes, he was indeed fucked.

#Maul x reader #Darth maul #TPM #TPM AU #maul fluff #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics

[yannowhatigiveup]

My One And Only - Chapter 18

Previous | Next | Master List

Hey! Welcome back to another chapter of MOaO! I won’t be able to update this as much as I want to (I’m not really updating it as fast as I won’t to right now but I’m trying) as exams are coming up as well as other various things. (I just realized that I haven’t said this earlier I’m so sorry, Ramadan Kareem to those who celebrate it!) Also, thank you so much for 128 followers!

"...I believe I found a way to subdue Hawkmoth"

————————————————————

Her eyes repeatedly scanned the page, making sure she was reading it correctly.

"It won't defeat Hawkmoth" Damian carefully pointed out, not wanting to diminish her excitement. "But it'll be able to stop him for some time, a month or two at most"

"Do you know what this means?" Her voice was barely above a whisper. "We'll be able to have some peace of mind! We'll be able to prepare ourselves! The whole of Paris! Who know, maybe we'll be able to get some clues on his identity as well as Mayura's as well!"

By the end, Marinette was spinning around the room, her slight giggles of happiness appeared here and there. Damian chuckled at her delight, seeing her happy was probably one of his most favourite sites in the world, that and seeing her flustered.

"I understand that you're excited but what do these cryptic messages mean, 'a tear of joy'? Did I translate that correctly"

She giggled at his confusion. "No that's one of the ingredients for the power up. Speaking of ingredients, I need to get some" Her bluebell eyes quickly scanned over the tablet again before she speed walked out of the hotel with Damian on her arm. "We're going to Master Fu's old place, he still has some ingredients we could use"

The two walked in silence, there was a topic that they needed to discuss, the end of the week was approaching fast.

"Maybe in the small time of peace, I can get Father and my brothers to help"

The bluenette chuckled slightly but not out of amusement. "I almost forgot, you'll be leaving in a few days" her gaze fell to the ground before she looked up at her boyfriend, solemnly. "It's gonna be a lot different, huh?"

He squeezed her hand gently with a comforting smile on his face. "It will be but I'm sure we'll handle it"

The couple grabbed the necessary ingredients and made their way back to the hotel. They dropped them off at the hotel room before making their way upper to the restaurant to get some food. Their dinner was quickly interrupted by a rockstar coming to congratulate his niece.

"Nettie! You're rock'n'roll! Your song is a huge hit!" Jagged exclaimed once he reached the table, he only seemed to register there was another person there once he sat down. His moderate cyan eyes widened in recognition when his gaze landed on the green-eyed boy. "You must be Damian, you look just like you're old man Brucie"

Damian shook his hand when the rockstar had offered it. "I am, Mr Stone"

"Uncle Jagged-"

"You break my niece's heart, I'll send Fang to eat you"

"Uncle Jagged!-"

"And I will gladly let you"

"I approve of your relationship, I just wanted to give the shovel talk since it sounded fun"

Marinette gaped at the two males on her table. "Dami, don't encourage him! I've already got Gami waiting to spar with you"

"Ah yes, my son's girlfriend is just as scary as Penny" Jagged visibly shuddered in good nature.

"Wait, Luka and Gami got together? Without telling me?!" The bluenette huffed, offended. "And to think I'm his honorary cousin"

Jagged chortled at her reaction while Damian had a faint smile playing on his lips. The rockstar decided to take his leave shortly after that, not wanting to draw some unwanted attention. He did manage to leave a pair of blushing teens as he told them to "Use protection!" before departing. Marinette was utterly embarrassed while Damian was flustered. Once dinner was finished, the couple went back to Damian's hotel room to discuss what they were going to do next.

Doing his best to help, Damian passed the ingredients to his girlfriend who then mixed up said ingredients in a pot.

"Can you get the Tear of Joy, Dami?"

The green-eyed boy looked through the ingredients until he found the slim bottle with a minuscule amount of clear liquid. He eyed the water as it squished in the bottle, it seemed so ordinary despite the great magic it could create. Damian could almost see the water taunting him with its mystic properties, he could just about feel it as he brought the bottle closer to the cauldron.

"This is it, correct?" The ravenette showed the blue-eyed girl the bottle in his hand

Her eyes lit up when presented with the vial. "Yes, that's it" As she removed the cork that was sealing the bottle shut, Damian asked a question that was lingering in the back of his mind.

"What exactly is the tear of joy?"

Marinette turned to smile at him. "It's a tear of joy"

"So a tear caused by laughter?"

"Precisely" She looked up at the ceiling wistfully. "I remember, when Syren attacked, Master Fu was trying to decode what a 'tear of joy' was. It took some time but we managed to figure it out in the end" She sighed. "It's great that we managed to find out about 'power-ups' but if we found out about them sooner, maybe more people would've been saved."

He put his hands comfortably on her shoulders. "What did Syren do exactly?"

She stopped dead in her tracks. That wasn't the reaction that Damian was expecting, whatever had happened with this Akuma must have been bad to induce this response.

The bluenette sighed and looked at the green-eyed boy straight into his emerald eyes. "Syren was one of the most dangerous Akumas we've ever had to deal with. She flooded all of Paris with her tears, only a few hundred people managed to reach the rooftops in time"

A breath quickly sucked in through his lips, the scene itself sounded horrible, imagining it even more so, having to actually see it must have been... traumatic.

"But Ondine is doing much better with Kim. And it's all in the past, we've learnt how to deal with the memories!" Her smile hurt to look at. His girlfriend had to deal with so much and she couldn't even express her negativity without fear of becoming an akuma. Damian placed a kiss on her head as she finally got the lid off of the bottle.

Both teens watched in anticipation as the droplet rolled down to the bottle's lip, teetering over the edge. It fell in. The concoction then shimmered a silvery blue. Grabbing a bottle, Marinette poured some of the liquid inside it, looked at the bottle and hummed in satisfaction. She quickly put all the equipment used back in a box and cleaned up any mess made. Once she was finished, she turned to the boy standing over her.

"I'll bring these back to Master Fu's old apartment then I'll drop this bottle off at my house, you can tell Tikki and Plagg that they can come out now"

The contents of the box shifted to one side, Damian helped steady both the bluenette and the box before going to the kwamis. Once the kwamis where comfortably with their owners, Tikki in Marinette's purse and Plagg in Damian's hoodie pocket, they made their way to the apartment. It still technically belonged to Master Fu, he rest hadn't rented it out so they were free to roam around. After putting the equipment away, the couple strolled to Marinette's house hand in hand. The bluenette went up to her balcony, with Damian close behind, and hid the bottle under her pink-striped deck chair, away from the sunlight.

"It needs to 'mature' in the moonlight, I guess. So when the moon is out, I'll take the bottle out" Marinette gestured for Damian to follow her as she went back down to the bakery portion of her house. "I'll give you some Camembert with the power ups infused. But I'll have to make it first!"

She hummed as she went upside to retrieve other substances that Master Fu had taught her to create. In the moment she was gone, Plagg appeared.

"I hate transforming!" The black kwami whined, settling in the boy's hair.

"What's so bad about it?" Damian raised an eyebrow at Plagg's outburst.

"It ruins the beautiful taste of Camembert, and it tastes weird"

"Quit your whining Plagg" Tikki's squeaky, but still relatively scary, voice rang out as both she and her owner returned.

"But Sugarcube-"

"No 'but's Stinky Sock!"

Damian watched with quiet amusement while Marinette giggled, handing him a wheel of Camembert.

"The cheese is cut up in different slices, each representing a different power up. I'll explain which is which on the way back to the hotel"

Damian put the wheel in his pocket before taking the bluenette's hand. "I look forward to it"

~~~

Each power up was simple enough, they all had a different colour corresponding with it's ability, making it easier to memorize. The couple walked by a dark alley as Damian check the time. Passing his phone to the bluenette next to him, Marinette took one glance at the time before dragging the two of them into said dark alley. It was time for patrol. Once both were done transforming, Noir and Ladybug made their to the assigned rooftop. When landing, Noir took his staff and looked through the help guide to get a better idea of what weapon he was working with. Spinning the staff with his hands, he separated the staff into two separate batons. He hummed in contentment.

"Grayson never gave me his escrima sticks for missions. I suppose this is good training if I ever want to use them"

The two rods snapped back together with a satisfying snap. Continuing to look through the articles on his now full staff, Noir didn't even notice when Ladybug moved to stand behind him. In one swift motion, the spotted heroine pulled down the black hood that was shielding the black cat-themed hero's face.

"La-"

Her covered fingers stroked his black cat ears, she giggled as his cheeks flushed. The feeling itself was unusual to the green-eyed hero, he had never felt anything remotely similar before but he wouldn't say he didn't enjoy it. It was just... unexpected. The spotted heroine, however, quite liked making the stoic Noir flustered. His ears felt so much like a real cat's that Ladybug was nearly taken aback, she got used to it after her shock, though. Noir found himself leaning into her touch but looking at everything but her in embarrassment.

Had his ears not been occupied he probably would've heard the two other heroes arriving, he only knew they were here as he saw them in his peripheral vision, rolling his eyes as he noticed them snickering.

'Angel, Rena and Chien are here'

Ladybug's head snapped in the direction of the two other heroes, one of her hands left his head as she she greeted the fox and the dog.

"Hello Rena Rouge, Chien" Ladybug greeted them casually, something Noir knew he couldn't do at that moment.

"Hello to you too LB! Hey Noir, did the bug find a way to tame you?

He mumbled a reply.

Ladybug giggled before turning to properly address the other heroes. "I've been thinking of adding three more members. I know it's a lot since you, Rena, have only just been announced as a permanent user and you, Chien, have basically just joined. But Noir and I found something that will require their help. I have a hunch that Hawkmoth might try something like Guerrier but with the same level as Syren"

The fox-themed hero nodded. "You need all the help you can get. So who do you have in mind?"

"A Snake, a Bee and a Dragon" The spotted heroine answered with no hesitation. "We'll need a snake as it is... intuitive"

Upon registering the description, Chien chuckled. "Isn't that the point?"

"Perhaps" Ladybug hummed with a smile on her face. "A dragon can control elements, a strong power would be useful. The bee miraculous's power is immobilization-"

"Paralysis can be very beneficial when trying to stop an akuma" Noir provided his input.

"Yes. So what do you think?" The spotted heroine looked between the three heroes standing on the rooftop with her. Noir hummed approval while Chien gave her a thumbs up.

"You always have the best ideas, Bug!" Rena voiced out her agreement, Ladybug let out a sigh of relief she didn't know she was holding.

"Then I'll go get them now shall I? We gotta teach them as fast as we can" The blue-eyed heroine took the yo-yo from her hip, spinning it with a flick of her wrist. "I'll send them here and then you show them the ropes"

"Aye aye Captain!" Chien saluted and Rena followed suit, only after a quick laugh. Noir rolled his eyes in good nature while pulling his hood back up, flicking his cat ears before doing so.

Hurling her yo-yo at a nearby building, Ladybug hissed through the air, her yo-yo latching onto another building as she neared the previous. Soon enough, she landed gracefully in a quiet area where two familiar figures were strolling hand in hand.

"Ladybug?" A boy with dyed hair questioned, a bluenette with short hair and almond eyes next to him.

She nodded before pulling out two miraculous from her yo-yo with, presumably, unlimited storage. "Luka Couffaine, Kagami Tsurugi, these are the miraculous of the Snake and the miraculous of the Dragon. They grant you the powers of Intuition and Perfection. You will use these miraculouses for the greater good, can I trust you?"

Luka and Kagami shared a knowing look then turned to the heroine in front of them.

"You can count on use Ladybug"

"We're honored to be chosen to fight by your side, my Ladybug"

She gave them the miraculous and watched as they both transformed into Viperion and Ryuko. "The others are waiting at this location." She showed them a map on her yo-yo. "I'll meet you there once I finish with a task a have to do." She hissed through the air once more, thanks to her yo-yo, and landed on a rooftop that was very familiar now. There stood a blonde, leaning on the banister.

"Ladybug?" Chloe's confused voice rang out.

"Hello Chloe Bourgeois" Ladybug took something from her yo-yo. "This is the Bee miraculous, it grants the power to immobilise your opponents. Should you choose to help us-"

"I can't"

"Pardon?"

"I said I can't" The blonde looked solemnly at the heroine. "I've been an utterly horrible person, I don't deserve to be a hero. Especially after... Queen Bee"

"People can change Chloe" Ladybug put a hand on the blonde's shoulder. "As long as they are given the chance to. Do you want to take this chancep?"

Chloe stared at the miraculous before looking at the heroine with a determined expression.

"I won't let you down, Ladybug"

~~~

Ladybug soon returned with a bee-themed heroine, named Honey Bee, by her side. After a brief reintroduction, the patrol began. Rena Rouge took the west side with Honey Bee and Viperion, Chien and Ladybug took the East while Ryuko and Noir took the North, they had already checked the South. Most of the patrol was done in silence, other than the odd 'nothing wrong here'. Ryuko had been the one to start a conversation

"You're the new wielder of black cat miraculous, correct?" The dragon user questioned Noir. He recognised it as the beginning of an interrogation.

"It certainly seems that way" Ryuko hummed.

"You fancy Ladybug, don't you" The question obviously took him aback. "Do you consider yourself... worthy?

The cat-themed hero didn't hesitate. "No"

He saw her raise her eyebrows.

"Ladybug is too virtuous for this world, there's not a soul in this entire universe worthy of her affection"

The dragon hummed in satisfaction. "You remind me of the boyfriend of one of my friends. Though I have yet to be convinced that he should date said friend, you have proved yourself worthy of Ladybug. I approve of your relationship even though it isn't my place to make such a decision"

"I am pleased" Despite the fact that he is a leader in this team, he's content with the fact he has the great dragon user's approval as she is the most intimidating of the team, other than Ladybug herself.

"Also don't mess this up, Ladybug is a Queen " Ryuko casually pointed out.

"Glad I am not the only one that thinks so"

"How can you not? Have you seen her?!"

"She's a goddess"

"You have my approval again"

~~~

Noir and Ryuko were first to arrive as they had finished their patrol early, the rest of the team weren't too far behind, however.

"Alright" Ladybug began once everyone returned. "Honey Bee, Viperion, Ryuko, it'll be best if you memorize all of Paris. That way, when there's trouble, you'll know your way around."

"I found that an aerial view is the fastest way to know the city like the back of your hand!" Rena Rouge pointed out.

"That's also the way I did it!" Chien chimed in,

"Yep! If you don't mind, there's something I'd like to discuss with both Rena Rouge and Chien. Noir, will you join us?" The spotted heroine turned to the heroes named.

"I ought to" He replied flatly.

"Alright then, follow me!" Ladybug hissed through the air followed by Noir with his staff and Rena and Chien with their enhanced abilities. Soon they landed in an alley. "I know you already know this, Rena, but I think it's fair if Chien knows too"

"Fair that I know what?" His gaze moved between the two heroines before landing on the black cat hero, silently begging for answers, to which Noir returned with an unconvincing shrug.

"That you know this. Tikki, spots off!" A blinding red light filled the narrow corner they were in, Rena shut one of her eyes while Chien shut both, Noir was shielded from the light thanks to his hoodie. Then, a certain Marinette Dupain-Cheng stood where the spotted heroine once was.

"Wh- Bu- How-" Chien spluttered as his brain combusted with all the information that was flowing through it at once. Marinette giggled at his confusion, Rena full on laughed, clutching her stomach while Noir merely smirked. "But, but I saw you standing next to Ladybug! Wait no, yourself? My brain is melting! Wait, you two knew?!" The dog-themed hero screeched.

"She's my best friend" Rena shrugged with an innocent expression, her transformation dropped. Chien stared in shock.

"She's my girlfriend" Noir mimicked Rena Rounge's shrug while letting his transformation fall too, leaving Chien the only one transformed.

"Okay THAT makes sense, you're both deathly attr- Wait, did you say best fRIEND?!" Chien shrieked and detransformed.

"ADRIEN?!" Alya exclaimed, Marinette and Damian watched in amusement.

"As entertaining as this is-" The green-eyed boy cut in before the pair would attract unwanted attention. "-Marinette needs to explain the reason why she revealed her identity to you"

The bluenette nodded. "You see early today, at school, I had this 'miraculous burn' I guess you could say from Guerrier's attack. Thanks to Alya I'm feeling better but that resulted in getting my identity revealed. So to avoid anymore incidents like that, I also told you Adrien. I can't tell the rest of the team yet as I don't want them to go all protective over me, you'll three will have enough overprotectiveness"

"Not wrong there, girl" Alya said without shame.

"I know I have to tell them my true identity at some point but right now it's better just to have you three know."

"We understand" Alya and Adrien said in unison.

"Great, now let's go back to the others so we can tell them patrol is over"

~~~

It was sunset, the orange cotton clouds contrasted beautifully with the darkening blue sky. A cool wind blew through the air, cold enough to make one shiver but not enough to catch a cold. Walking hand in hand, a couple made their way to Le Grand Paris. The bluenette looked up to the noirette next to her, leaning onto his arm covered by the Robin-themed hoodie and smiling while doing so, she closed her eyes to savor the moment.

"Angel?" Damian brushed the stray hairs on her face as she pulled away to look at him properly.

"You know, I'm really going to miss this" Marinette raised their conjoined hands as they approached the hotel doors.

He hummed and in response, put his arm around her waist to pull her closer while going through the elevator doors. "I am too"

They soon reached the hotel room, the kwamis roaming around for food once they got inside. Food in hand, Tikki and Plagg sat of the coffee table, leaning on one another as Damian turned on the screen to watch a movie. Once he was comfortably seated, Marinette joined him, snuggling into his side. He brushed his fingers through her silky midnight hair. He was going to miss this, deeply. What would life be like going back, without the beautiful bluenette physically next to him?

'I do not want to find out'

———

Provisional Cessation, It was created for the purpose of temporarily stopping a miraculous from being used if any harm were to come to the user. It would also deem it unusable for a certain period of time if the miraculous were ever come into the wrong hands. The reason Master Fu didn't tell Marinette this information was because the last time a user tried this power up, they were put into a magical induced coma, it was too risky.

———

Taglist:@little-bluestar,@miracleofadisaster,@frieddonutsweets,@jjmjjktth,@genderfluidmoma,@starlit-dreaming,@icerosecrystal,@lolieg,@kashlyn,@mochegato,@eggadoodle,@walkingthroughonautopilot,@toodaloo-kangaroo,@lady-bee-fechin,@weebjai1

#daminette #damian x marinette #marinette x damian #maribat #maridami #mlb x dc #ml x dc #damianette

[nonstoplover]

happily ending catastrophies ~ Fred Weasley

summary: Fred is accidentally (and fortunately) at the right place in the right time, and is able to save a muggle girl's life.

pairing: Fred Weasley x muggle (female) reader

words: 5K

meaning of: (y/h/c) means 'your hair colour'

(kinda) warnings: (1) this plays after the war and Fred lives, because i refuse to accept anything else; (2) i'm not from the UK so excuse the possible mistakes i made about the underground; (3) also there are a couple time jumps, i didn't want to drag it for too long and had quite a few ideas i wanted to write

a/n: this was an idea born whilst i was studying for this year's most difficult exam at uni lol but i thought it was worth giving a shot so here it goes xx

my masterlist

(y/n) wakes up to the sweet scent of some kind of flower filling up her nose and lungs. Despite the panging in her head she cracks her eyes open to find the source, though as soon as she takes in the totally unfamiliar room around her, the flower immediately gets forgotten.

What the hell?

She frowns, pushing her upper body up on her elbows to get a better look around. She has never seen this room ever before. Or has she? Suddenly she's not so sure as a foggy memory appears in her mind. Her glance travels across the cardboard boxes beside the wall on the floor, piled high on top of each other, then a desk, a wardrobe, arriving to the bedside table that has a lamp and several strange things - looking like some foreign country's small candies in colourful wrapping - on the wooden surface.

Sitting up fully she tries to move her legs to place them on the floor, but finds that it's much harder than it usually is - than it should be. All her attention turn to her legs now and the weird feeling that surrounds her left leg she hasn't noticed before. Carefully she lifts the covers that wrapped her body in a warm embrace to see what's wrong with her leg. A gasp leaves her lungs right away as her eyes fall on the cast wrapped around it from her knees straight to her toes.

In that exact moment the door slowly opens and her eyes snap towards the entering figure - a flaming red haired young man - whilst her fingers scramble to get the blanket back on her lower body, hiding the lack of clothing she's wearing as she's in nothing else but her underwear.

"Ah, you're awake! How are you?" He asks when his eyes connect with hers and slightly widen.

And his voice brings back everything. Literally everything to her mind about how she got here, all the memories flashing by in front of her inner eyes.

- - - - - - - flashback - - - - - - -

Friday the 13th. The day of misfortune and disasters. (y/n) huffs as she makes her way down the street towards the underground station to go back to her apartment. Now she knows this fact from experience.

She woke up a bit late that morning and didn't have time to drink her usual morning coffee in the comfort of her home, so she had to wait until her first break at work to drink one. When she just finished brewing a cup for herself in the small kitchen at her work, the handle of her favourite mug she kept in there broke and the now handle-less mug full of the brown beverage fell to the ground and shattered to a thousand tiny pieces, and if it wasn't already bad enough, the coffee splashed on her white shirt, colouring it light brown and leaving a wet stain behind all across her chest.

After that she managed to get through the day quite normally, right until 3pm, when her boss called her in to his office.

"The company is facing a hard time," his voice still echoes inside her head, making her shiver in sadness and anger. "I'm sorry, (y/n), the performance you showed us in the past two years was truly great, but you gotta understand that I have to decrease the number of employees. And that unfortunately includes you. I'm sorry."

If the way she worked was actually 'truly great', then why do they fire her and not someone else?

Well, probably her boss told the exact same thing to everyone he kicked out today, she thinks, but it doesn't help at all - it doesn't get her her job back.

So half an hour ago she packed everything in a box and set off to go back home, mentally raging about the cursed day. She has never believed in any superstition like this, but today she's changed her mind. Maybe all these things are true.

And that's when the next string of catastrophies starts.

As she's moving along the pavement next to the tracks at the station, the heel of her shoe breaks and she stumbles, her box flying away from her grip, all the contents of it scattering all over the ground. (y/n) tries gaining her balance back, taking a couple steps back, but the pavement disappears from under her feet as she reaches the edge, completely unaware of it.

She falls back, down to the tracks, and an impossible pain shoots up from her left leg as she lands, the air totally knocked out from her lungs. As she tries catching her breath, her hands move to lay flat on the ground so she can push herself up, but the world around her seems like it's spinning and she feels too weak to move a single muscle in her body.

Everything decelerates into slow motion and she glances around to see what she could do when something bright catch her eyes. A shiny warm yellow circle in the distance, getting slightly bigger and bigger with every second. She observes it carefully, thinking about how pretty it looks as she wonders what it might be. It only takes a second or two for her mind to catch up and suddenly she's more than aware that a train comes towards her and she's not capable to do anything to stop the collision from happening.

Friday the 13th.

Out of nowhere she feels a presence next to her, and just as she turns her head that way to see what's going on and her eyes fall on locks of bright red hair and a freckled face, the man has already grabbed her arm and with a fierce pull hoisted her up to a standing position. It feels like her arm is ripped out from her body, for a moment even the unstoppable hurting from her leg fades out to give space for the one in her upper body and she gasps before everything goes black.

- - - - - - - end of flashback - - - - - - -

The following events go by as a dozen of blurry pictures (y/n) can't make out in her mind and she blinks a couple times to get back to the present, to reality. She focuses on the redhead again, the last person she clearly remembers seeing.

"Where am I?" Her voice comes out hoarse and quiet and she clears her throat, waiting for his answer, knowing how she behaves quite rude completely ignoring his question, but she just can't help it.

She hasn't a clue where they could be, she's never seen a place like this in her entire life. It's obvious it's not a hospital. And after what happened it's just as obvious that she needs hospital treatment.

"The Burrow," he replies with a small smile playing on his lips.

And though she thought his answer would help clear some of the fog inside her head, it only confuses her more. Fred bites back the chuckle that threatens to burst from him seeing her cute frowning expression and waits for her to ask again, knowing it'll soon happen.

"The what?" The girl speaks up again, her voice now much clearer.

"My family home."

The confusion still stays on her face, and Fred truly can't blame her for it - who wouldn't be distraught after waking up in a stranger's home? Still, seeing the same expression he first ever saw on her face brings him back to the Tube station in London.

- - - - - - - Fred's flashback - - - - - - -

He's rushing down the stairs to catch the apparently soon arriving underground train, cursing his twin brother under his breath for winning the bet that resulted in the usage of any and every magical thing being forbidden for Fred for this whole week. Now he has to run errands adjusting to the timetables of muggle public transport and he's running out of time. Everything takes so much more time in the muggle world, and in the past few days he's grown to appreciate being born into the world of magic more than ever.

Arriving next to the tracks he catches sight of a dozen or so people there and relief fills his body. So the train hasn't left yet. He slows down to a walking pace and tries to catch his breath, and that's when he notices something weird about the people, something he has never seen in the past days when he used the Tube. They're all moving closer to each other, slowly making a tight circle, all of them looking in the same direction, as if something was on the tracks.

Curiosity rises in Fred and he makes his way to the edge of the crowd, standing on his toes to tower over it and glance down. His eyes immediately fall on a young woman lying there, one of her legs twisted in an abnormal way. She's looking to the side, towards the tunnel from where the train should arrive any minute now. Her expression displays confusion and slight fear, but her breathtaking beauty is still obvious, and it makes his heart skip a beat. His eyes slowly turn to where she's looking and he can see the light that swiftly grows brighter and brighter inside the usually dark tunnel, but his mind can't comprehend what he sees as all his thoughts are still only about the gorgeous woman lying there.

"The train's coming!" Somebody in the crowd shouts and that's what wakes Fred from his daze. His head snaps back and forth from the tunnel to the girl a couple times, so fast it's a miracle his neck doesn't break.

His body moves before he can fully think about his actions and suddenly he's pushing people away to make a path for himself in the crowd and he jumps down to the tracks. He hears a couple gasps from behind him, even a couple voices trying to inform him again and again that the train is actually soon there, but he doesn't care. All he focuses on is the task in front of him.

Squatting down he grabs one of the woman's arms and drapes it around his shoulder, standing up again as fast as he can, pulling her with him a bit harsher than he intended. She lets out a gasp in obvious pain, but he knows there's no time to be more gentle. Both of his arms move around her, one around her shoulder blades and one around the backs of her thighs to lift her up bridal style as he knows one of her legs is broken and she can't stand on it. And he's thankful for his own speed and thoughtful actions as he feels her body go limp as she faints.

The head-splittingly loud sound of a horn fills the air just as he turns around, signalling that they were noticed by the people on the train. As he takes the first few steps back towards the pavement he glances up, seeing two or three men already there bending down with their arms stretching in his direction. Fred quickens his pace as much as he's able to and practically throws the woman in the waiting hands, helping them pull her up by pushing her body from under, the screeching of brakes, iron on iron being the only sound that can be heard.

He stays on the tracks until he's completely sure that she's safe, than he grabs the edge of the pavement and swiftly pushes himself up, crawling on the cold surface until his legs are lying there as well. He feels a breeze moving against his back as the train arrives to the station, but he doesn't care about it, neither the cheering that erupts from the people around him, celebrating his heroic act, not even the burning feeling in his muscles from being strained. He just pushes himself up and stumbles to the woman, falling back down on his knees to be able to get a better look of her.

From up close he can see how she's even younger than he has thought, probably close to his age. She's obviously falling in and out of unconsciousness every other second. The word 'ambulance' enters his ears from the people around them, and he finds himself with a new task ahead of him. Somehow he has to get the girl away from this place and back to the shop so he can take her to the Burrow. Muggle hospital treatment isn't enough now, the wizarding world offered much better methods of healing. His mother will know what to do.

- - - - - - - end of Fred's flashback - - - - - - -

"And why am I here?" (y/n) continues asking.

"You broke your leg."

"Yeah, I figured, but shouldn't I be in a hospital then?" She tilts her head, raising an eyebrow.

"This is better than a muggle hospital," the young man shrugs.

"Mu... a what?"

"Ah, sorry. Slipped out," he let out a small chuckle, scratching the back of his neck in slight embarrassment.

Here comes the moment he dreaded. When he has to explain the existence of magic and the wizarding world to a completely clueless person and trying to do that without making a complete fool out of himself in front of the angel-like girl when she won't believe him - which he's sure she'll do.

"Wait, who are you? I don't even know your name," she speaks up again. "And how could I truly thank you for saving my life if I don't know even that?"

"There's no need to thank me," Fred protests.

"Of course there is!" (y/n) squeals as loudly as her weakened state allows. "Not everyone would jump down to the tracks when there's a train coming to save a complete stranger."

"Yeah, well, true," he mumbles, thinking back to how nobody did anything for her, anger filling his veins. Then he clears his throat, shaking his head to get rid of the negative thoughts and to focus on the girl again. "I'm Fred. Fred Weasley."

"Thank you for all you did, Fred. I'm (y/n) (y/l/n)," she sticks her hand out and a smile makes it's way to Fred face, matching the one on hers as he steps closer to shake her hand.

- - - - - - - 2 months later - - - - - - -

"I'm absolutely fine, Freddie, stop acting like I'm made of porcelain. I'm totally able to walk down the stairs on my own two feet," (y/n)'s giggling voice fills the air on the second floor of the Burrow when the redhead gently pulled her arm around his neck as he's done so many times in the past weeks.

"Alright, alright, I get it," Fred puts his hands up in surrender, backing away as laughter erupts from his throat and he turns his head away to hide the blush forming on his cheeks from the nickname she used.

Unfortunately he only gets completely face to face with his smirking twin brother who winks his way before pushing past him, a knowing chuckle sounding from him as he rushes downstairs, past (y/n), who follows him right away, only a bit slower, with Fred's careful, watching eyes trained on her back.

"See? I told you," the girl glances back at him over her shoulder after arriving downstairs, not stopping on her way to the dining table, only to stumble in a shoe someone left in the way. Fred immediately reaches out to grab her elbow and stop her from falling. From the strength of his attentive pull on her arm, instead of flying to the ground she crashes into his chest.

"I don't know, I'm not so sure," he teases, looking down with a smirk playing on his lips.

(y/n) moves her head up to connect her eyes with his, and Fred glances around her face, taking in the pink colour of her skin on her cheeks caused by the embarrassment of almost falling, then as his eyes reach the sight of her lips, he suddenly becomes almost too aware of how close the two of them actually are, and the breath hitches in his throat.

"Come on, kids, dinner's gonna get cold!" Molly's voice breaks the moment they shared and (y/n) regains balance, then gently pushing the boy away she turns around and limps the rest of the way to the dining table.

All of the Weasleys are already sitting there, watching the two of them appear in sight, and (y/n) has to bite back a giggle, still not used to the seemingly infinite number of redheads, all smiling wide and sweet at her. George pulls the chair she has always sat on ever since she was able to get downstairs out for her, offering a helping hand knowing that it's harder to sit down with only one properly working leg. Fred reaches out for her other arm just as she makes contact with George's hand, and the two of them don't let go until she's stopped moving.

She glances back and forth between the two boys sitting on either side of her, rolling her eyes at how overly protective both of them behave, when she's already told them hundreds of times that she's able to get by on her own.

The meal is delicious and the company is entertaining, just like it has always been since (y/n) stepped foot into the Burrow. Conversation flows without a hitch, only the occasional laughter breaking it for a second or two, and the (y/h/c) girl finds it hard to think about the inevitable - the moment that's coming fast, the moment when she has to leave these people and go back to her normal life. The Weasleys has become like a second family for her, and she fears that if she walks out that door, she'll never see them again. They're living a different life, in a completely different world. Their paths most likely will never cross again. She tries to brush off the sad thoughts, knowing that she'll have all the time to mope and grieve when she's back in her (ordinary and plain) flat on her own.

As she's helping Molly clean the dishes after the family finishes dinner, (y/n) pauses for a moment to glance at the redhaired woman. "Thank you for letting me stay here and for taking such good care of me."

"Oh, sweetie, you're more than welcome. It's our pleasure to have you here."

"That's true," Ginny chimes in with a joyful grin on her face as she places another dirty plate in front of her mother. "Your presence brightened up our boring lives."

"Boring?" (y/n) lets a loud laugh escape her throat. "Your lives are nothing even close to boring. Everything around here is breathtaking and spectacular."

"Is it though?"

"Try living my life for a week or so, and you'll know what boring really means," she shakes her head, the different memories and thoughts swiftly filling her mind as she turns around to lean the small of her back against the counter top, her eyes instantly connecting with Fred's, who's still sitting at the table, shamelessly watching her with searching eyes.

"I still can't believe there's a whole world of wizards and witches that we have absolutely no clue about. It makes me wonder how many things are there that's hidden from us. And it makes me scared how clueless we all are in the muggle world."

(y/n)'s only able to stand the intensity of his gaze for a couple seconds before she has to turn her head away, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks and heat them up. She swallows, only hoping that it stays unnoticed by the boy, but when she finally dares to glance back for the shortest of moments, she catches sight of a small smirk playing on his lips and she knows that nothing has gone unnoticed by him. Clearing her throat she tries to find something else to say, speaking the first words that come to her mind.

The newly learned word still rolls uncertainly from her tongue, not sure if she says it correctly, but when her restlessly moving eyes accidentally catch Fred's again, she sees a new kind of glint sparkling in his eyes, and it's enough to let her know that she used it correctly.

"It's not your fault," Ginny places a hand probably destined to be reassuring on the older girl's shoulder. "We're just too good at hiding it."

The two of them share a laugh, and unbeknownst to (y/n), it turns the shape of Fred's eyes into something that very much resembles a heart. His own heart flutters at the sound, the temperature of the room suddenly feeling too hot for him to bear, and he abruptly kicks his chair back, standing up and swiftly moving out of the house to get some fresh air and somehow try to cool the fire that's burning inside of his chest.

(y/n)'s eyes follow him, an eyebrow raised in question, deep in her thoughts right until the door closes shut again behind the boy. The sudden noise brings her back to the present and she shakes her head to get rid of the things running around in her head.

"Anyway, I gotta go upstairs and pack. I really have to go back home now," she sighs, pushing her body away from the counter.

"I'll come help you," Ginny immediately offers, hurrying after her.

Two and a half hours and a heart wrenching goodbye later (y/n) and Fred come to a stop outside her apartment's door, both of them feeling a previously never felt sadness fill their hearts.

All (y/n) can think of is flashing images of the flaming red haired boy. The way he sat at the edge of the bed she was lying in, telling her everything about the wizarding world. The way he lifted her up so effortlessly as if she weighed nothing to bring her downstairs when she was unable to walk in the first weeks. The way he walked her around the house and the garden, showing her everything and explaining things to her, adjusting to her extremely slow pace without a word. The way he showed her multiple of the products he and his twin brother sell in their shop, sometimes only speaking of their effects, other times even showing her, not caring with the fact it caused something inconvenient for himself as long as he made her laugh - which she did so many times and so hard that it made her sides hurt. The clothes he let her have when winter set in and her own became too thin to keep her warm, and the way the material smelled like him. The lingering touches of his calloused fingertips against the skin of her cheeks when he thought she was fast asleep - when in fact she was completely awake, fighting back the urge to press her face further into his touch.

In the meantime all Fred can think of is flashing images of the gorgeous muggle girl. The genuine curiosity that sparkled in her eyes whenever he told her about the world he's living in, the endless amount of questions she's asked him about anything and everything, the pure interest she showed from the first time he told her about the existence of magic. The way she bonded with each and every member of the Weasley family, finding a common thing with all of them and eventually making them all grow fond of her. The way she told him all about the muggle world and her own life, sharing all the details with him without hesitation - trusting him right away. The way his name rolled from her tongue - even more when she called him Freddie. The bubbling, loud laughter that erupted from her throat when he told her about the shop and all the pranks George and him did back in Hogwarts or when he showed her the products they now sell in the shop, the laugh that always made his heart skip a beat, the laugh he couldn't help but adore along with the fact that she seemingly didn't care the slightest bit how loud she is or how funny her laughter might sound. The way she looked in his clothes, always taking his breath away, making him wish nothing more in the rest of his life than to see that very sight every day as long as he lived - and possibly even after that.

"Well, thanks for getting me home," (y/n) points at the door behind her back as she looks up into his mesmerizing eyes. "And for jumping down in front of a train for me. And for letting me into your family home. And for taking care of me."

"It was the least I could do," Fred smiles sheepishly, his mind spinning, trying to come up with something to say that would keep the girl in his life.

"Bye, Freddie," she hesitates for a moment, then decides it doesn't matter anymore and leans in, pressing a soft kiss on his left cheek.

Fred's eyes flutter closed, heart bursting with the sudden feeling of love from both her lips touching his skin and the oh so loved nickname. He freezes, unable to think anything else than eight very important letters.

The girl moves back, fiddling with her keys to find the correct one, pushing it in the slot and turning it, gently shoving the door until it's wide open. She steps in, her eyes taking in the furniture and decoration she once loved but now finds unbelievably plain and mundane. A sigh escapes her lungs and she turns around to close the door - and wave once more the boy.

Fred still stands in the exact same spot, obviously not moving even the slightest bit since she backed away from him. (y/n) raises her hand to wiggle goodbye with her fingers at him whilst moving to close the door with the other hand, already feeling the tears blur her vision as she tries to take in the sight of him as best as she can to be able to remember him forever.

"Wait!" Fred exclaims, placing a palm flat against the wooden material to stop it before it fully closes.

This time (y/n)'s the one to freeze, hand pausing high in the air and she even holds back the breath in her lungs as she waits for him to continue.

"Can we meet again?"

Her eyes widen in surprise. She always thought that he'd never want to see her again. That he'd be happy to finally get rid of her and be able to continue his life as before. He wants to meet with her again?

"I... y-yes, of course," she stutters, heart stammering inside her ribcage so wild and loud, she's almost sure he can hear it.

The extremely wide smile that splits his face in two hearing her answer makes it impossible for her not to mirror it, her own lips curving on their own accord. Fred, feeling the previous nervous shyness evaporate from his body and the always present confidence fill his vein up again, takes a step closer to her, then another until he's right beside the door, gently pushing it wider open again. (y/n)'s hand on the door handle inside goes limp, and she lets it fall down to hang loose beside her body as Fred steps inside.

When he's so close that she can feel the breath coming from his nose reach the skin of her face, his lips open again to let out a whisper. "Can I kiss you?"

The already abnormal rhythm her heart beats in gets even more uneven, and her head moves in a nod as she breathes out the word 'yes'. Fred's eyes sparkle up even more, and his hands slowly start moving up, one reaching out to gently caress her cheek whilst the other wraps around the small of her back. Slowly, extremely slowly he leans down, pausing for a second just before their lips could touch, and as a wave of impatience rushes through the girl, she raises her head and presses her lips against his.

Fred lets out a muffled chuckle at her eagerness before tilting his head and snaking his arm further around her torso to pull her flush against his own body, his hand that's resting on her cheeks moving slightly further back until his fingers completely disappear in her (y/h/c) locks, his lips moving passionately against hers.

She completely melts into his touch, feeling like she's floating in the air, as if she's only dreaming. But when they both run out of oxygen and pull away to fill their lungs again, their foreheads pressing against each other in search of support and their eyes connecting without problem, looking deep into his beautiful brown orbs (y/n) grows sure right away that it's truly reality, not just a dream.

"I love you," he breathes in-between his quiet pants, but it's enough to make (y/n) totally dizzy as a love-struck grin spreads across her face.

And in that very moment they both know that their story is just starting.

.::the end::.

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[nsr-simp]

Green’s first fan letter

Green woke up from sleep-mode with his brothers, excited. It was evident with his bright green hue on his cheeks. He saw Red getting dressed up in his favorite outfit, a leather jacket with his snake cowboy boots and bootcut jeans.

“It’s vlog day, right?” Green asked eagerly. Red only chuckled at the youngest’s enthusiasm.

“Mmhmm, better dress up,” he reminded him. “Neon says to dress your best today, we’re getting mail.” Green became more giddy and went into his closet, pulling out his favorite sailor suit. After donning it and adjusting himself in the mirror, he looked at the hoop on his hair and made it presentable. Ideal boyfriend had to be the perfect boyfriend.

    He raced out onto the limo, everyone dressed up. Neon kept his fur jacket while Blue had a vest tuxedo, White wore his casual attire since he felt it suited him the best, and Yellow had a glimmering gold tuxedo, of course wanting to show it off since he just got it last week.

“I can’t wait!” Green plopped himself next to White. White gave an encouraging smile, others giving chuckles that faltered. 

    Usually, they would be excited for Green, but every Friday at the end of the month was when they opened fanmail. They got letters of love and admirations, boxes of candies and gifts, art, CDs, all gifts ranging from A to Z… except Green.

    Sure, he was still new to the band, but he’s been there long enough. The brothers thought for sure he would at LEAST get something… but he never did. And after every vlog, after a fake smile, Green would lock himself in his room and sulk. He never got any mail. Never admiration. 

    Sure, the siblings did their best; boasting about him in videos and even making their own letters to him, but he was too clever for them. Despite being the gullible and sweet one, he knew a fake letter when he saw one. He would thank them, but just put it in a drawer.

“Heh, we’re as excited as you!” White put an arm around his shoulders. Green beamed, White sharing the same expression. He was very well at hiding feelings, it was his best trait. It made him the leader since he could solve solutions rationally and he was looked up upon and put in charge when Neon was out.

“You think I’ll get something?” Green wondered.

“Of course! I bet that mailbox is FLOODING with mail for the most adorable bro we know…!” White chuckled, pinching Green’s cheek. He could only giggle as the limo rode off to the post office. Blue got his camera cleaned up, Green watching him. He was the usually the one who video tapes the videos with his cool and monotone attitude, that also being the best trait. They all had their best traits. Red was brave and would protect, Yellow was spontaneous and outgoing, and Green was adorable and sweet. 

    However, the one trait every other brother shared at that moment except Green was fear. What if Green didn’t get anything and once again, would snap? That was always their fear. Sure, he could be remade and have his memories back, but the thought of him breaking down to a boiling point was something no one wanted to see, on camera or anywhere else.

    An hour later, Neon brought a sack on board, Green’s hope clinging on. It was a huge bag!! Bigger than last month’s! Maybe this was it… this would be his first fan letter! He didn’t care if it was even from a five year old, he wanted something. 

    Neon handed out packages and envelopes while calling out the names.

“Red, Blue, Red, Red, White, Red, Yellow, Yellow, Yellow, Yellow, Yellow, White, White…”

    It felt like Christmas for Green! Waiting for his name to be said! Just to open his present! He watched the others open letters and read them to the filming camera and react to sweet treats and gifts. An hour past… and so has Green’s hope. It was the size of a grain of rice. He pointed his face away from the camera to hide his guilt. Why was he feeling guilty…? Was this… selfish of him…? To expect anything? Would he never receive anything?

“Thank you so much for these chocolates, Jennifer!!” White smiled into the camera. “Your appreciation and love is-”

    Green suddenly stood up, Blue looking at him. “... Green?”

“I need to go,” he quickly replied in a shaky voice. He sped walked off to his room, shutting the door and sitting on the bed. Neon watched him go and then the others. 

“... let’s… give him time,” Yellow replied. “We should maybe edit that part out…”

    Green curled up on his bed, muttering to himself.

“Be the ideal boyfriend… be the ideal boyfriend… be the ideal boyfriend… be the ideal boyfriend…” he sniffled in. He never really felt this way. “You’re being selfish… people don’t have to send you stuff… it’s okay… it’ll be okay…”

    He rubbed his face, shuddering out. He didn’t like this feeling… his motherboard felt so heavy…

“Let’s just finish up the letters… and I’ll talk to him,” Neon offered. They all nodded, Neon pulling out the next letter. “Gr-...”

    They all stared as Neon looked up, his expression, though hard to tell… was thrilled. “... Green.”

    The sound of his name made Green bolt out of his room, not caring that his hair was a mess. Not caring that his black oil tears stained his cheeks. Not caring he was halfway in his panda pajamas. He looked at Neon, who had a letter in his hand. Blue focused the camera to Green, never wanting to miss this moment. White spoke up, his happiness not being contained.

“You got a letter!!”

    Green hardly believed his ears. Neon offered it, Green shakily taking it and looking at it. A pink envelope with purple hand writing. It… was so beautiful. In stunning cursive. They all watched with wide smiles as Green sniffled, tears starting up again as he opened it and looked in it.

“... wellllll?” Yellow leaned in. “Read it outloud, silly!”

    Green snapped back into reality, gulping in and nodding.

“R-right! Um… it… it says…”

Dear Green,

I’m your BIGGEST fan in the world! I love 1010 as a group, but to me, you stand out…! Everything about you is wonderful to me and I look up to you. You’re kind. You’re sweet. You’re gentle. You’re my ideal boyfriend. I would’ve sent this earlier, but I was scared… I was afraid… guess a coward, but I finally did it…! I know a little letter isn’t much, but I know it’ll mean a lot to you, like you mean a lot to me.

You inspire me to do a lot. Seeing you dance and sing, although you’re nervous and get the jitters before the camera and the lights really shows how amazing you are! I’ve been doing more because you helped me. I’ve got my own song out and it’s based after you! When it comes out, I’ll send you the CD! Maybe I’m your only fan, maybe you have millions more, but know I’ll always be your biggest fan.

-Love Titi.

    Green stared at the letter, rereading it over and over and over, tears falling from his cheeks. White thought it was because he only got one letter, so… being the big brother he is, he stood up and went next to Green, wrapping one arm around him in a hug.

“Green…” he started.

“I… I got my first letter!!!!” Green squealed out. He jumped up and down, hugging the letter and laughing out his worries and stress, more tears falling onto the floor. Everyone shared a heartwarming smile as Green giggled and tittered more until he nearly shorted out. When he finished, he looked at the letter… then at the camera. “... thank you so much, Tit” he sniffled in. “This… is the most… most amazing thing I’ve ever read in my life!! Oh my gosh, I’m going to cry again! Haha!” He gasped and looked at the letter. “I’m going to go frame it!!!”

    With that, he ran off as the brothers all laughed happily, White looking into the camera.

“Well, that’s going to be all for Fan Mail Friday! Thank you all for your letters and gifts! Stay electrifying!”

    Tatiana finished watching the live stream, chuckling and giving a smile, pausing at Green’s happy, tear filled face.

“... you’re very welcome.”

#no straight roads #nsr #1010 #nsr 1010 #fanfic #submission #not mine #BROOOOOOO LOOK AT THIS!!! :0000000 #GODLY WRITING RIGHT HERE #TEACH ME YOUR WAYS

[emerald-amidst-gold]

WIP Wednesday

Guess what, guys? IT’S WEDNESDAY! >:D You know what that means~!

TIME TO SHARE!

I’m excited because I finally, finally found the inspiration and motivation to write chapter 13 of my main fic! And I used the good old, ‘And he returned...’ technique! X’D

Time to talk about mages and templars everybody!

“Ma halla,” Cyfrin’s voice came forward, laced with tiredness and unusually serious as his eyes fell upon his sister, “the Chantry has not had control over either side for years. If they had, the Chantry in Kirkwall wouldn't have met the fate that it did.” He picked up the stick they had been using to tend the fire, giving the logs a gentle poke and sending sizzling embers upwards, “Now, it is merely a war of endurance; who can last the longest and who can end it with the most spite, the most damage. Blood will run for many moons as it has for several years now. Except this time, light is being shone on those crimson puddles rather than being mopped up with a," A finger rose to slender lips, a pantomime of silence and secrecy.

Fane sighed, grimacing a bit when Mhairi shifted against his side and watching those embers rise and then blink out of existence. Cyfrin was right. This was a war without end, and each side was merely swinging at whatever happened to move now. Power corrupted, and it had done so in this instance; mages overwhelmed by the taste of air, magic responding with giddy excitement; templars breaking the chains that held their hands and feet in place, as well as their swords. Both had never known what it meant to be free, and now that they had it in aces, they couldn’t cope with it.  All the common folk, them included, could do was wait it out, like a parent waiting for their child, who refused to listen, to settle down. That was all there was to it.

Fane slowly rubbed his palms together, wringing his fingers a bit as he spoke, “Whatever it is now, it doesn’t matter. It’s a mess made for a different rag,” With a tired movement, he let his head roll to the side a bit to rest atop his sister’s, relishing in its silkiness. To think, he had almost abandoned that comfort for fear. He continued with another sigh, “All that matters is staying away from it. It isn’t our fight; it never has been.”

Silence passed between them all after his words had fallen, the crackling of the fire and the drone of crickets and cicadas the only sounds to fill the air. Cyfrin only gave him a nod that said, 'I agree' before going back to idly poking at the fire. However, Fane could feel something like a tense ripple from Mhairi, her body suddenly rigid where it rested against him.

Shit, Fane thought, growling a bit as he recognized this rolling wave exuding off Mhairi. He should have kept his mouth shut.

A few more moments of silence passed before the words he had been dreadfully waiting for passed lips gingerly being bitten into.

"Is it really not our fight, though?," Mhairi asked in a sheepish whisper. Fane watched from over his nose as delicate hands appeared from under fur and cotton, pink with Fereldan chill and palms up, "Or at least, my fight? I mean, I'm a mage, so really--"

"Mhairi," Fane cut off his sister's words, voice dropping low in warning, "Whatever's going through your head right now, end it."

Fane caught the flicker of amber from across the way, their owner knowing where this was going as much as he did, but he was more focused on ice as it hardened before him. He was not going to entertain this ridiculous train of thought! Was his sister mad!?

"But, brother--!"

"Enough," Fane snapped with a harshness he rarely used with her, "Do you want a templar on your heels!? Do you want to be silenced again!?"

Nostrils flared as he brandished a glare downwards, but his irritation cooled as Mhairi's icy gaze melted and turned downwards, guilt and pain in turquoise. Fane frowned deeply at that. Shit, he hadn't meant to…! Damn it all! This was why he should have left on his own! All he did was pull down, down, down! He could never find the right words!

"Of course I don't want those things, brother. You know that," Mhairi said with tightness, voice like a taut cord before letting out a tiny sigh, down-turned eyes staring pointedly at her hands--the tools for which another tool could be wielded in, "It just...feels wrong to turn away and let not only the mages and templars suffer, but innocent people, too. The people on farms and in villages didn't ask to be involved, but they are." A gentle blue glow enshrouded slender fingers and smooth palms, making Fane's nose twitch in irritation and his stomach roll uncomfortably, but he watched it same as her, "I guess I just want to help them, to show them that it doesn't have to end in flames. Magic is beautiful, and it hurts to know no one but the Dalish recognize that."

Fane listened, rapt and attentive even though he knew his face showed otherwise. Mhairi had vocalized these thoughts before to him, and while he understood where she was coming from, that still didn't mean this was their fight. What was there to gain from throwing themselves into the pan? Nothing but an early grave, that's what. Or worse yet, tranquility. The very idea of that happening to his sister made him sick. How such a practice came to be was beyond him, and yet, it made his mind prickle and pull with those odd feelings of ‘wrongness’. Obviously, stripping a person of their emotions was vile and grotesque and disgusting, but it felt like something more to him. It always felt like more with so little.

Fane let out a long sigh through his nose at himself and his sister, the air condensing in front of him, "It's not your job to present that to the world, Mhairi." He shifted a bit, the fur lining of his cloak brushing against the bottom of his cheeks as he did so. He was starting to get warm, uncomfortably warm.

"Isn't it?," his sister forwarded, pressed, pushed, sparkling eyes slowly rolling upwards to look at him; the glow of her hands fading away to let firelight take center stage again, "I’m a--”

Fane growled, his chest rattling from the depth of it. “Yes, you’re a mage, My, but that’s more likely to get you killed, or worse, made tranquil than understood,” He met her slowly narrowing gaze unflinchingly before sighing tiredly, shoulders slumping and voice softening at the look of hurt in icy blue, “Listen: stop chasing after trouble. No good can come from involving yourself in this mess,” His tired eyes shifted to the fire once more, watching it dance and consume both air and forest wood, “This continent is engulfed in war, and it’s not your job to fix the mistakes of others just because of what you are. That type of blind thinking is exactly why all that’s happened, happened.”

He felt his fists ball up against where his hands were resting between his thighs from anxiety and frustration, the skin along his arms pinching to where he could finally feel his scars start to act up. Great. Just what he needed alongside all this ridiculousness. Why did his sister always have to play this card? Yes, she was a mage, but there were a thousand more who could, but wouldn’t do what his sister wished to. And why? Because they knew it was pointless as narrow perspectives were set in the stone of ages.

Time and time again mages had tried and failed to show the world the intended use for magic. Time and time again restrictions were set ever tighter because of those harmless displays, the Chantry crying, ‘Demon, demon! Blood magic, blood magic!’, and a single, single show of defense against such accusations was treated as a literal felony. Now, the Fade touched were doing the only thing they could think to do after so many disappointments; fight. A caged animal was bound to break the door holding it back, and that was exactly what had happened to every Circle; they broke.

They went silent, voices stolen straight from their throats, emotions ripped away so as to be unable to defend themselves any longer, and the beauty his sister desperately wished to show no longer relevant as it had no place in war, in a world where beauty was a stranger. Fane didn’t have much allegiance to either side, both were foolish and pathetic and tiring, and despite his personal experience with magic, he didn’t detest it. It had its uses, just not on him and that was because he didn’t relish getting uncontrollably ill. He was open minded enough to know magic hadn’t been the true culprit, it had only been like the innocents in this pointless war; used against its will. It had been the blade that carved the stone of his body, but it hadn’t been the hand to wield it.

So, he would admit he felt sorry for the endlessly warring factions, even the templars despite his personal feelings regarding them. To be played like a fiddle by a bunch of tottering zealots, zealots that used ‘faith’ as their bargaining chip to garner influence and power while declaring, ‘It is the Maker’s will’. Sadly, despite how thin the veil of deceit was, the people fell for it like raindrops during a heavy downpour, fast and hard. Was it the humans’ ‘god’s’ will to rip away independent thought? To sunder the minds of those who broke the leash long having held them back?

To indiscriminately kill another on the basis of ‘you’re a mage’ or ‘you’re a templar’ or ‘you’re a threat to our power’? Apparently so. Tragic, but there was nothing to be done about it now and Mhairi needed to understand that.

She needed to understand there was no ‘beauty’ in war.

Mhairi let out a disgruntled huff before her form shifted away from him to sit up. Fane squeezed his already tight fists tighter, the leather of his gloves creaking from the force as he watched his sister rise up from the log, her action calm, but her eyes and face held frustration in delicate edges and firelit ice. He felt his expression go hard as he sat up straight, silently mourning the loss of momentary comfort. Again, he should have kept his mouth shut. Why did he even try using words?

“I think I can see perfectly well, brother. I saw the corpses mutilated beyond recognition, the burnt buildings and the sacked ones, the people crying over what they lost, children wailing as their parents wouldn’t wake up. I saw,” Mhairi said, lilt strained and lips twitching with the urge to bend downwards as a forlorn mutter came after, “I wish you would stop treating me like I don’t, like a child.”

With that, Fane watched his sister quickly stride away towards where they had pitched tents, darkened cloak fluttering behind her and kicking up the dusting of snow with her partially bare feet. It was only when Mhairi completely disappeared from his sight, safely burrowing into her tent, did he let out a sigh, the exhalation hard and long.

“Damn it all,” Fane cursed out under his breath, bringing hand out and up from his cloak to rub at his face. He felt ten years older all of a sudden. Scratch that, a thousand years older. How much older could he potentially feel at this rate?

“Tactful as always, ma falon.”

----

Fane can be incredibly harsh, and a downright jerk sometimes. He doesn’t mince words or give platitudes. He says it how he sees it. 

Tagging: @noire-pandora @oxygenforthewicked @varric-tethras-editor @dreadfutures @the-dreadful-canine @drag-on-age @a-drama-addict @little-lightning-lavellan @whataboutbugs @blueheaded @aymayzing @rosella-writes @1000generations and anyone else that’d like to share! (no pressure! <3)

#wip wednesday #my writing #oc: fane lavellan #oc: mhairi lavellan #oc: cyfrin azurel #cyfrin's baaaack~ >:3 #and mhairi just wants to help #fane wants to STAY AWAY #you can guess how that works out~ >:3 #although. it IS fane's fault when it happens ehehe~ :3 #i'm so happy to be working on this again! X3 #*bonks the unknown dragon on the head* STAHP. BE NICE. #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dai #writing