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gremlingottoosilly · 4 months

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The Horror and The Wild (emperor!Konig x fem!Reader)

A day after you and Konig's wedding. Who knew that evil emperors could be so romantic. Tags and TWs: Dub-con, aphrodisiacs, power imbalance, breeding kink, size difference, loss of virginity, age difference(Konig in his forties, Reader in her twenties), medieval/fantasy AU, Konig is a pervert AND an evil dictator Word count: 3256 AO3

— Lift your hips up, princess. You don’t want to waste my seed.

You whimper, trying to get your legs down, so he can’t force you to spread them anymore – but you feel the hot seed getting back in the swell of your well-used maidenhood, and it makes you whimper only more. What a woeful sight indeed – a fake princess crying over having to take the seed of the strongest person in the whole continent. You know a thousand of women who would beg for an opportunity to have the Emperor’s hands on their hips, guiding them down to admire the look. You know that the real princess – your princess – would never agree to this ordeal, no matter the begging and the bribery. So, you don’t agree too. — In m…my culture, a bride should wait at least a month after the marriage before the…conception, Your Majesty.

You lie through gritted teeth like it could change anything. Like it could magically force all the seed from your womb to the ground again, to the silk of the sheets under you. Like the mere tradition that you gave birth to the idea of a minute ago would stop you from being König’s breeding mare. Still, you refuse to lift your hips, a small resistance that puts a small chuckle to his lips. He is amused by you – or your stupidity. Princesses are supposed to be spoiled and bratty, right? Yours certainly was.

— Does your culture also make the bride lie to her husband?

You lick your lips, forcing them closed. No another quick witty word from you – your lies already got you on the edge of…something. After König announced he knew who you were this entire time, he got you on your back, on your belly, with your hips up and down, your head silly from lack of air as he choked you until you begged for your life – only for him to kiss you over and over. Feeding your womb with his seed until there was a bump, not giving any chance that the baby wasn’t there yet. If anything, he conquered your body the same way he did your country – and left your bruised hips as a reminder. The handprinted bruises covering your skin like the finest fabrics of the gown he got you.

— If you wish to order me dead, your majesty.

— Death doesn’t mean anything here, meine Liebe.

— Then banish me. For the lies and the betrayal of a royal…

He laughs – it’s a nice sound, still, something in your deprived mind likes the way you make him laugh and chuckle. Something in your head makes you feel as dizzy as you did when he cut off the air in your throat, every time that cold eyes of his look at you with warmth. heated obsession, whatever that is – you refuse to believe it was genuine, as you were borrowing your princess’s identity, but now, when he laughed and spoke about his true intentions, you weren’t sure if a pathetic and lowly lady-in-waiting is as safe in you as you thought.

— If being as stupid as you are is a punishable crime, then I’d finalyl have a good reason to kill off most of my harem. He laughs again, a hand in your hair – getting out all of the fancy pins and bows and dead flowers that were forced to be held in your crown and on your head. You groan in pleasure as the pins scraping your scalp are finally removed – and try to get back at his hand immediately when he comes to squeeze your breasts again. Not for any reason – simply because you happened to have the aspects of your body that he could touch.

— Would be much safer to get a woman from a harem, sir. Not…not me.

— And if I wanted just you?

König looks at you – trembling, loved out completely. Covered in his marks, as many bites as a princess could take. Even being a servant, you’re almost as gentle and reserved as a real deal – but gods, if you weren’t the cutest thing he ever saw in that damned ugly country of yours. Hating nobility as much as he hated speaking to his troops not as their commander, König never particularly enjoyed the idea of having to marry some bitchy royal daughter…you, however, were the loophole in the god’s contract. A gift, just for him.

— Your council would make me disappear for deceiving you in the first place.

— No one would dare to leave the empire without heirs.

— You could have another one. There are plenty of princesses out there, Your Highness.

— And I don’t have enough patience to entertain you trying to sell me the idea of your freedom. Do you know what relief I felt when you were the one to meet me?

You don’t answer, instead prompting to just listen. You have good ears for listening – for allowing others to talk, so you wouldn’t be made to fill in awkward silences. König loves that and appreciates that. Finally, someone who can just be silent – even if he also has nothing to say, at least you’re scared and angry enough to dismiss him anyway. At least your unwillingness is making him less awkward at participating in the conversation.

— You knew who I was all along?

— Princesses are pampered. Even the poorest kingdom would never have a princess with hands as hard-working as yours, Schatz.

He takes his hands in yours – no matter the healing creams you rubbed in them, no matter the lack of actual physical labor, even the smallest tasks you performed for the princess, the tiniest exposure to cleaning supplies that would make the toughest skin crack, left a small traces in the skin of your palm. Fingers with clean nails – short, practical, indicating the need to have your hands in working order all of the time. Indicating your lack of a servant who would do everything – opening buttons on clothes, embroidery, and washing oneself’s body. indicating that you were said servant.

You look embarrassed that he pointed that out. Scared, almost.

— Are my hands too ugly for you, sir?

He can see the tremble in your fingers. He traces them with his – large, calloused hands keeping you in place. Rough skin and multiple ridges of scars over the darkened skin made you shiver from the contrast of the sensation – those are the hands of a ruler who isn’t afraid of taking a sword in his hands. Who almost got his arms chopped off for this altogether.

Then – he kisses them.

One finger at a time, every ridge and bump in your skin deserves a graze of emperor’s teeth as he tugs on rough skin around your knuckles. Your hands are soft, softer than a normal maid would have – but changed from the work you had to put. Every kiss and lick doesn’t make them gentle, doesn’t remove the experience you had – in braiding hair, in washing clothes, in cleaning up after a royal mess. It doesn’t change who you were, but with every little praise he whispers – crude language, really, but the affection in his words scares you more than any foreign insult could – with every toss of his lips over your palms, he is changing who you are. Who will you become in just a week or two.

He calls your hands beautiful – in North tongue, with a smile on his face. König loves to explore, and your body is a beautiful place for him to be. Your hands are the best place he could have been in the morning.

Some historians are already saying he has done more to this country than any other ruler ever could. But oh, the emperor knows that the most important thing he did here was kiss your fingers. Over and over.

You snap your arms back when he finally breaks down, starting to bite – the softer skin of your palms falling victim to his sharp teeth. Emperors aren’t supposed to have sharp teeth but for all he knows, he was born from a dog and raised by one. A wolf in wolf’s clothing.

— Your hands belong to an empress.

— Thought I was a regent.

— You are, mein Schatz. Can’t trust you with a country, ja?

You laugh, but there are tears in your eyes. Loss of whatever authority you could have as the princess's personal maid – her friend if he knew anything about royals and their habits. Scheisse, he was the emperor for 10 long years and still didn’t get a hang of it. Might be something he had to be born with – such a shame, really. Should have told his mother to never give birth to a rat that would usurp the throne once out of the crib.

He loves to see you weak, trembling like this – like a proper bride should. Like a real princess, the one whose manners should be enough to fool the people and the dumbest of his court. The smartest ones could always agree to put their tongues up their behinds – if they don’t want to get their heads chopped off by his blade, without even bothering an executioner to do it.

— But you can trust me with your children?

— This empire needs an heir. As much as I can rule forever.

— No one is immortal.

— Ach. Did Sebastian forget to visit you before the wedding, little princess?

He is mocking you, again and again – he laughs with death and you hate it, you hate yourself, you loathe him and his laughs and his crooked smile and the scars covering his skin and…he kisses your hands again, then – dips your hands up in that mask of his. Lets you feel the skin, involuntarily trace your fingertips all over everything hidden – you touch his teeth, his fangs, and you gasp in shock. So, the monster has lips. So, the monster has thin lips and wet mouth, and he dips his tongue all over the traces of knuckles and…

König knows you’d never agree to be his in a way that he wants you too – but this is fine. He can work you around. He can break you. He can please you. What a wonderful job would this be.

— Your court would soon find out I’m not the one.

— They know how to keep their mouths shut. You would, however, have to deal with my harem personally.

— Did you intended to add my princess to your harem too?

— If I knew that you wouldn’t take her place? Of course. I never visited the place for the exact reason I didn’t bother to find your patron.

— Are you really satisfied with the scraps?

Oh, his poor, dumb girl – he was feeding off scraps since he was ripped away from his mom’s tit. You were the only fancy meal he ever liked in his life – and gods, if he wouldn’t give up anything to taste you again.

On the other side, however, he can do just that.

König dips his head down, the traces of his hood laying on your labia. You whimper.

— I never ate anything as exquisite as you, little princess.

— I’m n…why do you keep calling me this?

— You will be my princess. Forever trapped on my lap, on the floor, chained to my throne like a…

With each word, his tongue laps on the glossiness of your lower lips. He gives your maiden a little kiss all over, he digs down like it’s a fancy meal indeed – the scrawny hairs of his stubble make you whimper every time they graze your clit. König has a fleeting thought of eating his cum out of your poor, sore body – that it wouldn’t be wise, that it would make the process of impregnating you slower. Then, he thinks – he can just fill you up with his seed later. And in the evening. And tomorrow.

He pushes his tongue down, deep – you gasp, you get your hands on his hood, not trying to tear it apart, but laying there like a scared maiden. You were one – you are one, after all. Gods, he could just keep you here forever if it weren’t for the country needing its empress.

König kisses you all over – you’re still smelling like rose water, like fragrances that were forcefully rubbed on your skin right before the wedding. A proper lady, you were bathed in salts and oils like a kitchen in poor man’s soup – but weren’t you looking beautiful in that dress of yours. Too bad he had to rip it eventually, stepping on it accidentally quite a few times as he was getting you water. Your little trick with the herb did make you thirsty in all possible ways.

You don’t know a lot about royal weddings, but you’re pretty sure that the emperor shouldn’t be sprawled on his giant bed like this, eating you out like you were the roasted lamb served at yesterday’s feast. You moan when the material of his mask is getting tricky with your gentle parts when the rough fabric is scrapping your thighs in a way that is far from arousal – and then he leans in, a head laying on your tummy. Your princess parts are swollen from his actions – and lack thereof. You almost think you could buck your hips up like a… König takes off his hood.

— Wh…what are y… You don’t master enough words before he is forcing his face against yours before his lips finally lay down on yours properly – and gods isn’t this a beautiful sight. The emperor, the vile conqueror, your biggest enemy, and your husband – smiling like a boy when he got free candy, like a cat who got the cream – like a man so in love, it makes him unable to stop smiling while looking at his wife.

He isn’t pretty in the sense that some of the rulers can be pretty – he isn’t hideous either. A rough face doesn’t look like something that belongs to a royal family – big nose, small lips, chiseled chin and not a sight of inbreeding. You try to see if his ears are wrong, at least, but they are fine – not caring about a bit of chopped-off bits, probably from old battles. He is rugged and handsome and rough and you hate that red stubble on his chin and his gorgeous ginger hair – if you were forced to see this face every day, you might give up and like him. It’s a good thing he wears the mask most of the time, isn’t it?

— You don’t like how your emperor looks, little princess? He laughs again, then – cups your face in his hands and kisses you all over. Again and again, his lips fell on yours making you feel dumb, making you feel dizzy and just a bit charmed – like the potion you drank yesterday hadn’t fully worn off. You can taste your own pleasure on his lips and it makes you embarrassed – a proper lady should never enjoy a process as dirty as making love – your lower parts should only exist for him to take pleasure in ruining it, and for you – to birth little princes.

But König bows down before your lower lips, but König presses his tongue against your special spot again and again, and it makes you wonder if he recites the anthem of the empire on the little swollen bud between your legs – for his actions are filled with devotion that should only be reserved for one’s country, not for just a poor, dumb handmaiden whose only job was to lie and to protect. But…is it really all you want to do now? Just lay here and let him take him, without a chance of enjoying him playing with you if only for just a bit longer? — I…I believe you look fine, Your Majesty.

— Just fine?

He smiles and kisses you down there again – the aftermath of your pleasure makes his lips feel too hard on your swollen parts, the climax had taken everything from you left only feelings, as naked and trembling as you are right now – and, by god, if you aren’t feeling like sold and set in pieces. You are selling your dignity right now, the loyalty to your kingdom is getting grazed by each new stroke of his tongue. You close your eyes and moan – for you can’t hold off your pleasure anymore. For you don’t see a reason in trying to pretend you don’t enjoy being treated like a princess after a life of servitude.

— You are fine for an emperor, my…my husband. You struggle to say it – but you do have to say it eventually, at least in front of the servants. If he isn’t intent on keeping you locked away in a tower, pumping out babies like his little servant – maybe he wouldn’t want to keep you open for the world to take. You were a secluded princess kept in shadows before he discovered you, after all. You served the one, at least.

— Trying to cover the harsh words with honey, ja? I killed for less, mein Schatz.

— I assume you won’t kill me before the first son, at least?

— Wouldn’t kill you even if you’d be barren. I’d rather leave the empire to rot without an heir than choose someone else in your place.

— That is awful news for your empire.

— Our empire can rot without you, Meine Liebe. Never wanted the damned crown in the first place.

— But you’re fine with putting it on the head of a commoner?

— I was a commoner once. Know better than anyone else that a princess would never make a good wife.

You never studied his rise to power – the latest politics were hidden from you and the princess, the king never wanted to taint his daughter with such silly things as rising stars of the political arena – and he failed to mention the empire that was once rotting from its head getting a ruler who would take half of the continent and a daughter of every kingdom in his harem as the spoils of war.

He lays down beside you, taking you in his arms again. his hair flows all around you – he smells like blood, still, even after so many hours spent bathing in your shared musk. You wonder if everything he had done with the forbidden rituals made him like this – face torn and stitched back together again, harsh scars that can only be made from a blade or claws of a giant animal – and he pushes you down to press your face against his chest, taking in the feeling of laying beside your husband.

— Don’t you have something that needs to be done, Your Highness?

— The most important thing I need to do is lay between your legs, little princess. And you’re too swollen to be doing that.

You press your forehead against his chest. Taking it him and the light tan of his skin – you wonder where he could get it, if he almost never took off his armor. His face is as pale as it can be, and it makes him look a little silly when naked – but you refuse to smile and make him angry. — I thought you wanted me to meet your harem.

— They can wait. We need to give them time to prepare the poison for you, right?

He laughs and you don’t find anything better to do than to press your head against his chest and close your eyes. The royal visits really can wait until tomorrow.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #call of duty #yandere cod #cod x you #konig mw2 #konig x you #konig cod #yandere male #male yandere #yandere #yandere imagines

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enid-rhees · 10 months

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for you | Maggie Rhee x fem!reader

summary: you finally kill the man who hurt the girl you love.

genre: a bit of angst and a bit of fluff . kinda FTL

warnings: killing Negan (???), descriptive mentions of what Negan did to Glenn.

A/N: i’m absolutely loving Dead City so far, this doesn’t take place in that timeline though. this story takes place years before. so nothing happens to Hershel jr :)

everyone was fighting. gunshots filled your head, you couldn’t hear anything else. your body went into auto pilot, shooting whoever tried to step in front of you. you heard screaming, but couldn’t tell who or where it came from. everything was blurring together.

you wished this would end. all you wanted was for Hilltop to be safe. for Maggie and Hershel to be safe. that’s all you wanted. you wanted this to be over.

out of the corner of your eye, you noticed another coming after you. you turned around, shooting a bullet into his head with one clean shot. he fell to the ground, body losing color.

your eyes rapidly scanned the area, trying to find Maggie. you ran, dodging bullets and fists as you did so. your focus was her, and only her.

when you spotted her, you noticed a girl coming up on her from her blind spot. your legs took control of your body and you ran as fast as you could. you grabbed onto Maggie, pulling her out of the way and shooting the girl in one swift movement.

Maggie gasped, still processing the last two seconds. “are you okay?!” you yelled over the constant noise. she nodded, “i’m okay.” you pulled her into a hug, tightly gripping onto her back. you both stayed like that for a moment, not saying a word.

“well, would you look at that.” Maggie tensed in your arms as that voice came through. you pulled away, pulling Maggie behind you as you looked up, making eye contact with Negan.

he had that stupid, shit-eating grin on his face. the one that had been haunting Maggie for years.

“looks like the widow has a new pet!” he laughed, his bat swinging in his hands. you furrowed your brows at him. “never thought i’d see a day like this,”

“whatever you’re planning to do, just stop.” you told him. “what the hell do you think you gain from all of this?”

he laughed again. “i gain everything, widow’s pet. i gain your people, your guns, your food, everything! actually, i’ll even gain you! you will belong to me when i finish this. you will work for me.”

you looked at him with disgust, not understanding how someone could say these things out loud and not realize how psychotic they sound.

your hand reached into the back of your pants for your gun again. you kept it at your side, finger resting on the trigger. you already cocked the gun.

“oh, sweetie. you really think you can kill me? i’m sorry, but do you know who the hell i am? do you know who the hell you’re standing in front of?!” his voice got louder with each word, but you kept your strong suit up. you wouldn’t let him break you so easily like this.

“i’m sure Maggie here has told you what i’ve done, correct?” you were hesitant, but you nodded. he smiled, tongue licking over his teeth. Negan started to step closer to you.

you backed up, slightly raising the gun.

“oh, so you know very well how i beat her husband to death, yeah? how i taunted him as he bled out, shaking on the ground. how his eye bursted out of its socket, how he could barely say his last words to her as i beat his head into the ground until it was mush.”

you could feel Maggie hyperventilating behind you, her body shaking worse than you’ve ever seen. you stared at him with utter disgust and disbelief.

Negan took another step closer to you, raising his bat.

“if you really want to try and kill me, go for it. you know why? because in two minutes when you fail miserably, i’m going to do the exact same thing to you as i did to Glenn. and you will feel every last hit as i make Maggie watch it happen all over-“

your hand snapped up as your finger pressed down on the trigger. a single bullet shot through, and the next thing you knew, Negan was on the ground, a single line of blood dripping down his head.

you dropped the gun, feeling your body go numb. there was no longer gun shots blaring in your ear or screams of terror, everything and everyone went silent.

Maggie sobbed out loud, pulling you into a bone crushing hug. you could barely feel yourself hug her back, but you did, holding the back of her head. sobs racked through her body, unable to keep them in any longer.

it had finally felt like the biggest weight was lifted off of Maggie’s shoulders. Negan was dead. it didn’t erase Glenn’s death, but it brought justice to it.

you weren’t sure if you were going to be able to kill him like you did. each time Negan spoke, he grew more intimidating and aggressive. but when he started to make Maggie relive that awful night, and how he threatened to do the same to you in front of her, you lost it. imagining Maggie being hurt again was a nightmare to you.

“you’re safe now.” you whispered, running your hand through her hair now as she continued to cry in your shoulder. “Negan’s dead.”

Maggie pulled away, her green eyes red and glossed beyond belief from her crying. “you- you killed him.” she managed to get out.

“for you,” you whispered. “i couldn’t let him do that to you again. i-“ Maggie cut you off, her lips connecting to yours.

you and Maggie were never official. you always gave her as much space as she needed because you never sure if she wanted another relationship. you were patient with her. she knew she had feelings for you, but didn’t know what to do. Maggie was terrified of you getting hurt.

but now that Negan was dead, she felt free.

Maggie pulled away, leaning her head on yours. “i love you,” she whispered. “for a while now i have. but- i couldn’t let anything happen to you. i couldn’t find the strength to make you mine.”

“i’m yours.” you whispered back. “i’m all yours, Maggie.”

she smiled slightly, connecting your lips again. there was an emotion radiating through the kiss, one that felt euphoric. one that finally made everything so clear. you were finally Maggie’s, and Maggie was finally able to breathe again.

#maggie rhee #maggie rhee x reader #maggie rhee x fem!reader #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader #twd

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mingigoo · 11 months

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Felix from Stray Kids,

Marriage contract AU - with number 56. It’s okay to cry.

Something with comfort and if you want to throw a historical twist into you can…no Biggy…🥺 it’s not like I like history or anything…

Here you go😘😘 hope you love it. You better love it or else😤😤😤 jk ily

—

marble hearts || lee felix

❤︎ #56 ⇢ "it's okay to cry."

❤︎ pairing ⇢ (fem) reader x sculptor! Felix

❤︎ summary ⇢ during an event in the town square, your father announces your sister's engagement. She was able to marry for love, which was all you ever wanted. Your "love-less" marriage to Felix fumed your anger until you find out it was actually full of love.

❤︎ genre/au ⇢ historical au, contract/arranged marriage au, Italian renaissance au, angst, some fluff, rival families

❤︎ warnings/tags ⇢ no major warnings, felix is bad with emotions, rival families, artist, sculptor felix, marriage of convenience, both are in love but so stupid like just tell each other dammit

❤︎ word count ⇢ 3.5k

❤︎ taglist ⇢ @jjhmk @yesv01 @roe-sinning @meowmeowminnie @yeritheloml @yukine-smx @y00nzin0 @8tinytings @halesandy @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @sanshineeeeee @kodzukein @hwaightme @likexaxdaydream @ssaboala @gtr-skyline-lover @wooyoungjpg @lonewolfjinji @asjkdk @charreddonuts

When you think of love, there is only one person that comes to mind.

And only one way you imagined it coming true.

You always compared it to the free fall of an eagle—the kind of love you tagle in, like the talons intertwining between the feathers, gracefully falling hand in hand, two as one, landing as one while the sky crashes along with you.

But in real life, you don't always find that mate to fall to your death with.

You fell in love once and never fell out of it. This dream of yours finally seemed reachable—it was right in front of you, his hand held out just like an eagle’s talon, ready to sweep you into his embrace. The delicateness of his touch, the sweet smile on his face—everything felt destined. You were ready to fall.

Until he wasn't.

Your marriage was meant to build an empire, of sorts. Two influential families conjoined—a marriage of power. The art market soared under the influence, making you known as the daughter of the “infamous” patron. You of course liked the attention, as it was a market for your own works, but because of your position, it led to you giving up your dreams of true, heartwrenching love.

But it didn't start that way.

Felix. Your husband. The love of your life, the reason behind your madness. When you married him, your heart was hopeful. It felt like he was the one that carved it as if it were just for him, only for him to shatter it with his indifference.

And now, in this mess of a life you once wished for, you found yourself lost in the movement of the water in front of you. The fountain in the town square was your favorite—designed by your mother. She never got to shine for herself, just like you, only being seen as the wives of the men who ruled the city.

The water splashed against the marble, fizzing in your ears as energetic music played in the distance. You watched as the moonlight reflected against it, almost smiling to yourself despite your aching heart. In your hand was a stone, ready to be tossed into oblivion. You imagined yourself as the little inanimate object. it was going to fall, just like you did.

“y/n,” a sweet voice called out from behind, almost hesitantly. “Father is about to make an announcement.”

The delightful voice belonged to your younger sister.

You looked down at your hand, tossing the stone up and down. “About what?” you questioned. You weren't too keen on social events, and now with there being an announcement, it made you feel even more of a mess. “He didn't mention anything beforehand.”

“Well,” she trailed off, approaching you slowly. “.....Please come on over with me. You need to hear it for yourself.”

You turned to her as she stood next to you, her gentle hand touching your shoulder. Her hair was gracefully tied up in a braided bun, a few strands of dark hair draping her face with perfection. She was perfection.

You sighed after noticing her desperate look. “Sena,” you hummed. “You know I don't like these things.”

“I know, I know, but….” she huffed, pleading with her eyes. “It’s important to me.”

You looked back down at the rock in your palm. “....Is Felix there?”

Sena furrowed her eyebrows at your pained tone. “I didn't see him. He might be there by the time we get back.”

“I never said I was going back,” you said flatly, but you knew deep down you were going to cave, and you were going to be there for the announcement—in the hopes of just getting a glimpse of the man you call a husband. Maybe, just maybe, he’d notice that you decided to wear a dark, maroon gown to catch his eye. It was one of his favorite colors, so you hoped that it would help to become his favorite person.

Bells began to chime—the announcement was going to happen soon. Sena quickly gripped your arm, tugging on it desperately.

“Please, I beg of you,” she whined, her face colored with emotion.

You looked back over to the fountain.

“....Okay.” you tossed the stone into the water at your answer. Sena joyously carried on, tugging you away from your safe haven and back to the crowd.

You let her drag you, even if you didn't want to leave. The only reason you were going back was because of her excitement, and maybe to see Felix. You knew nothing would come of it if you bumped into him, though. He would just stay quiet or maybe would say a word or two and then prance off to that studio of his. It didn't hurt to continue your hopelessness.

“There’s my lovely daughter,” your mom smiled wide as you approached, your burgundy gown slightly trailing on the dusty brick path underneath your feet.

You forced a smile as she kissed your forehead. “I was worried you weren't going to return for your sister’s announcement.”

You frowned slightly, but it wasn't noticeable to anyone other than Sena. “what’s it about?”

Your mom was too caught up with her attention on your sister now. She was dusting off her dress, tucking her hair behind her ears frantically. “Oh, my darling girl. You can't go on looking like that at a time like this!” she cried out, doing everything she can to make her look presentable.

“What’s so important—”

“Oh, by the way, y/n,” you were interrupted while she continued to focus on the younger sibling. “Where’s your husband?”

You never wanted to rip off her head more.

Blinking slowly, you took in a deep breath before responding. “He’s not here, mother.”

“That's a shame, he should hear about this, too.” she talked as if you were supposed to know what was going on, but if she cared to pay attention to you at least for a minute, she would understand that you had no idea about anything. Or know that you weren't exactly happy to be here.

And then your father’s voice boomed over everyone as if he were a king. “Greetings, everyone. I hope you are all enjoying the festivities, but I would like to interrupt the party for a very important announcement.”

Your sweet, beautiful sister’s face began to flush as the square got quiet.

And as you pieced together everything, you realized what this was going to be. From Sena’s excitement, her need for you to come to hear the announcement, the reason behind your mother’s attention, the blushed cheeks.

Sena was getting married.

You were drowning in your thoughts as your father kept talking. The world was spinning, your mother was beaming from ear to ear. Sena was ecstatic, and the minute the man—her man—approached your family, your heart dropped to your stomach.

She was going to live your dream.

You kept your vision low as they announced their engagement, your stomach in knots and your hands shaky. It was all you ever wanted—to marry for love. To fall, ever so gracefully, towards your end with your destiny. Sena’s betrothed, a man with no political ties, was able to sneak into the empire of superficiality, while you rotted in a pitiful one-sided love. Yeah, well maybe you were overreacting just a bit, but oh, did you want to scream and cry and tear up everything around you.

Rage got to you first as you balled your fists up, leaving sharp crescent-like marks on your palms. You looked at your dress, and suddenly, the wine color made you want to hurl. Love was pointless if you couldn't have it. Love was meaningless. Love is—-

Love is….

Like a free fall from the sky.

No one ever said the landing didn't hurt.

You finally came down from the clouds, it only took this gruesomely painful moment to overtake your dreams of perfection.

You were too angry to notice the tears falling from your eyes.

People were hugging, gifts were being given. You stood there, by your joyful sister, who held all of the world’s beauty in her soul. Time was moving as fast as your heartbeat, everyone speeding up as you stood in one place. You weren't sure if anyone spoke to you, or even looked at you, until the music began once again, and you finally noticed the dewiness of your cheeks.

And so did Felix.

There he was, standing directly across from you in the crowd, his lush blonde hair pulled back from his face and his eyes flooded with worry. You held your breath, meeting his starry eyes like you were the only two in the universe.

He didn't take his eyes off you as you stared deeply, your expression unreadable to him and yourself. You weren't sure what you were thinking, and that may be half the reason for your unwanted tears. You never let yourself cry, especially in front of people. It was a weakness.

Onlookers began to notice your disarray, and slowly, your clenched hands began to loosen, your mind began to slow, and your heart felt like it had stopped beating.

And then you ran like a bat out of hell.

You pushed through the crowd of wealthy, conservative men and their wives, through the artwork on display and the countless stray cats that preyed on the streets until you found yourself gliding through the shrubbery that blocked your estate from the common folk.

Finally, away from the scrutiny, you made your way to the garden. You sat down on the bench next to the raining wisteria, lavender hues dancing in the wind above you. The petals fell to their end, landing on the pavement as you stared at the ground.

“Maroon is your color, you know,” a deep voice murmured from the break in the trees.

You scoffed, quickly wiping your eyes before he saw more of your tears. He had seen enough.

“Don't you have somewhere else to be?” you hissed, looking away from him.

He didn't speak, or move. He stood in the same place, only a few feet away, but it felt like an ocean was filling up between you.

He took a second to respond. “I…I’m supposed to be here.”

“No,” you rolled your eyes, looking up to meet his. “You never make time for me. You never talk to me, you never….you never cared. Why now? Is it because I was crying?”

He took a step closer to you. “y/n, I—”

“Actually, I think this is the most I’ve heard you speak in all our years together,” you carried on, a pained smile on your face. “I hate to say that I enjoy it.”

He hesitated, his gaze low, his heart upon his sleeve. He looked like the universe in itself, glittering like the night sky, sparkling just for you. He took in a sharp breath as he noticed your efforts to hold back the tears.

“It’s okay to cry, you know,” he hummed, his voice tender as ever. “It’s human nature.”

You looked up at him—your chest tightening as your eyes pushed away more tears. The very thought of him saying this, telling you it’s okay, staring at you with those delicate eyes of his, everything made you want to cry more and more and more.

“Awh, dammit Felix,” you let out a shaky sigh, tossing your hands in the air exasperatedly.

He blinked, wanting to move closer to you, but held back. “What?”

You groaned, the tears falling along with the flowers above you. When you didn't have the right words to answer him, to tell him you loved him, that you longed for him, that the reason for your tears was him all along, you heard the softness of his footsteps approach you.

He kneeled in front of you on the hard cobblestone, your line of vision right on his shiny, expensive shoes.

“Look at me, y/n,” he spoke kindly, tilting your chin up ever so softly for you to meet his eyes. You watched them dance around as he looked at you, and you held back everything you wanted to say.

But when he wiped away your tears—that little act of kindness, you felt your heart crumble like the marble he carved.

“I can’t take it anymore,” you cried, but your voice was weak. “I just…I can’t stand the fact that she gets to marry a man who loves her and I….I get someone who can't even talk to me.”

He looked distraught like he didn't know what to do or say. His cheeks flushed pink at your words.

You looked at his expression, falling in love with his freckles all over again, even if it wasn't the time.

He took in a small breath. “Can I….take you somewhere?” he stuttered slightly, his hands caging you in respectfully while you sat on the bench. “I mean, somewhere important.”

He held his hand out to you, his eyes begging without words. Maybe he wasn't too good with them….maybe he just had a hard time.

Or maybe you were making excuses for him like you always did. You hoped that he was going to take you somewhere to prove your thoughts wrong.

You nodded, hesitating before taking his hand, unknowingly the start of a new beginning.

—

Felix brought you through the shrubs and greenery, exiting your villa’s garden and back into the real world.

The event was still chattering on in the distance, long forgotten by the both of you. He held onto your hand still, from the minute you gave it to him, as if he were cherishing it like a perfect slab of marble he would find in the quarry. You felt the butterflies fill your stomach at the littlest of touches, and wondered what you would feel if he did more.

Finally, you arrived at his residence, the elegant, tall home that looked like a castle. Instead of going inside, he took you past the doors and through the gardens, all to get to a small but beautiful building that matched the house’s exterior.

“What’s this place?” you pondered out loud, wondering if it was his workshop. He would always run away back here, so you assumed.

He didn't even let go of your hand while he unlocked the padlock on the door, struggling slightly but figuring it out anyway. “My studio.” he paused before opening the door. “I… I’ve never let anyone in here…and I apologize in advance for the things you'll see in here.”

The tears were all gone by now, but your emotions were still charged. If he so desperately responded to your cries in this way, that would only mean an answer lies behind the door.

“Okay,” you nodded, very curious.

He took a second look at you, his one hand in yours and the other on the doorknob. And finally, he pushed the door forward, his fingers shaking on the metal.

And when that door was no longer in the way, you saw the many sculptures and paintings that were of one subject matter. You moved inside for a closer look, losing your grip on his hand as well as your sanity.

The sculptures in front of you were….well, you. Your face was carved everywhere, the curve of your smile, your cheeks, your hips. He captured you with perfection, as his attention was always on you, rather than his words.

“Oh, my,” you whispered, your fingertips gliding against the marble. You couldn't believe any of this. It was all unreal.

“I’m sorry if it’s too much, but—”

“No…no it’s…” you held back your tears, even though he was the one to tell you it was okay to cry. “I can't believe it. You were doing this the whole time?”

He stood awkwardly in the doorway, afraid to near you. “Even before we were married.”

You stared at him, in the midst of all his versions of you, and yet, you were the one he was looking at. He blinked away his emotions, and you had never seen him this vulnerable.

“Why?” you asked, taking a step closer to him.

He shrugged, rubbing his arm nervously. “I only know one way to express my feelings and….I always thought you didn't feel the same way, so I hid everything away.”

You breathed in sharply.

“Why didn't you tell me earlier?” you felt the tears build up even more. “If I knew you felt this way I would've…” you sighed. “I wouldn't of treated you like this.”

He didn't say anything after that. You both stood there in the middle of all the marble and paint, your hearts beating for each other. You wanted to cry out of happiness, slap him for not telling you anything and a whole bunch of other feelings you couldn't quite put your finger on.

“I hope it’s not too late, then,” he tilted his head shyly, his pretty smile back on his face. It was a nervous grin, but gorgeous, nonetheless.

You smiled back at him. “Only if you learn to talk to me,” you moved your way back to him, crossing the distance in seconds compared to the years that built it. “And I’ll learn to be a good listener.”

He scoffed playfully, letting a sigh of relief fall from his lips. You were closer to him than ever, both physically and emotionally.

And surprisingly, he was the one to reach out to you first.

He gently grabbed your hand, pulling you to him. He looked down at your lips, parting his own in hopes of meeting yours. You helped him a little bit, gliding your hand to cradle his cheek, looking deeply into his eyes and the sprinkle of freckles he had.

He leaned forward, slowly but surely, to envelope his lips onto yours. He kissed you softly as if he were afraid to break you. His hands smoothed down your sides, resting on your hips as you wrapped your arms around his neck. The kiss deepened, your longing for him melting right into his touch. He breathed into you, lived within you, and after the kiss, you stood in each other's arms for a moment that might have lasted forever.

“Do you know why I wore maroon?” you hummed, leaning up to kiss his lips once more. “Because it’s your favorite color.”

He responded with another peck, throwing his arms around your waist with a giggle. “Do you know why I like maroon?” he asked you, smiling into another kiss.

You shook your head, but you weren't really paying attention.

“Because,” he smiled, brushing the hair out of your face like it was a normal action. Everything came like an instinct, the both of you holding each other like you always should have. “When I first met you, you were wearing this amazing, maroon dress. It was also the day I fell in love with you, so then I fell in love with maroon.”

You looked at him with confusion. “So you mean to tell me you’ve been in love with me since then? And I didn't know until now?”

He nodded cutely. “Yes,” he smiled, kissing you again. “Sorry about that, but I was under the impression that you hated me, so.”

You were in too much bliss to start that argument. Instead, you just laughed, holding onto him tighter so that you’ll never, ever, have to let him go.

“Well, I guess we can act like an actual married couple now, huh?” you smirked, giving him the ‘look.’

He kissed your lips once more, pulling back only to press his forehead against yours.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” he whispered, grinning.

“Now let’s make our own art together.”

—

Epilogue

—

“No no, don't bite me,” Felix giggled, holding onto his son tightly in his lap. “Oh god, his teeth are getting sharp.”

You sat on the grass in the town square, right by the river. It glistened just like your husband’s eyes, which now were captured in your own art that you called a son.

He had his eyes, thank god. You loved looking at them, reminding you of the love that created him. Everything seemed perfect, except the fact that the little guy clearly thought of Felix as an opportunity to chew.

“I’ll take him, I like the bites,” you smiled at the love of your life, who by chance was wearing a maroon shirt that matched your child’s clothing. He giggled at Felix, babbling like the little baby he was.

You now held onto him, and Felix leaned his head onto your shoulder in exhaustion. “He has your feisty personality,” he joked, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck.

“He has your crazy eyes,” you joked back.

He smiled, quietly looking out at the running water of the river. After a moment of comfortable silence, he sighed deeply.

“He’s perfect,” he looked up at you, a lopsided, gentle smile on his face.

“Our own little creation.”

#lee felix #felix skz #stray kids #stray kids oneshot #skz fanfic #skz fluff #skz #historical au

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romanoffsbish · 2 years

Text

Stepping Into the Light

WandaNat x Fem!Reader

Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Soooo, I’d been watching Ghost Whisperer while writing my fics, and as I neared the end I decided a crossover fic could be fun.

Warnings: Violence, Death, Grief | 4,955 Words

Melinda had made the travel to the Big Apple with her husband Sam—Jim—and son Aiden in hopes of experiencing a good natured vacation. So, when she approached the cute coffee shop and saw you pacing outside of it she was a bit devastated, because of course you'd be here. Nobody dies the way you did, being who you were, and passes without unsaid goodbye's.

———————————————

You'd been outside this coffee shop all day, waiting for Wanda and Natasha to finally show. It was your weekend tradition to meet here at 9AM, enjoy pastries, while sipping on your differing beverages, and talking about any and everything until splitting come afternoon time to get back to work.

It's already 3PM though, so you're growing a bit concerned at their lack of arrival. You're not stupid, you know you're dead, but that doesn't mean you'd expect them to break these sort of traditions though. You'd already suspected you were dead, because all you can remember is their angry faces as you left them, then Clint's full of fear before everything suddenly blurs. Then, after the fight you saw the two engaged in last night in your shared home your suspicions had been all but confirmed.

Your inability to be heard, and Wanda's "She's dead because of us Natasha! Just more red to add to our already dripping ledgers!," when you found you couldn't hold Natasha as she cried herself to sleep with a big bottle in her hand you knew it was you being referenced... You don't even know why you thought you could do anything if they had showed up, just more of that reckless optimism of yours, the same bit that got you into this mess anyways...

Melinda sighs, texting her husband that they'll want to extend their trip because she has some work to do, and he knowingly responded with wishes of good luck, and so she approached you with no hesitation whatsoever. You'd saved the world countless times, so saving your soul was certainly a cross she didn't mind baring.

Your senses were on overload when you saw a brunette woman sitting at a table sipping her tea, staring as if she could see you, and not through you liked everyone else had so far. Subtly she nodded towards an alleyway, and you found yourself there in a blink of an eye.

"Who are you?" Melinda simply smiled at you, completely understanding you're on edge, "Well, I'm Melinda Gordon—." Your eyes widened when she actually responded to you., "You can see me then? How is that possible?"

"So, you know you're dead, that's a good start. Most ghosts I encounter don't have it all put together yet, but you seem to. Tell me Y/N, do you see a light? Is it calling to you?"

"What fucking shit is this? Do I see a light? This is New York, there are lights everywhere!" Melinda snickers at your little outburst, "That's a fair point, but that's not what I'm referencing. My purpose here is to get you crossed over, and into the light, but it's clear you can't see it."

"I can't cross over!" Melinda sighs, "You have to, there's no place left for you here, but can you tell me why you can't leave?" You drop your gaze to the ground., "I can't leave them..."

"The Avengers?" You shake your head., "No, well kind of—Natasha and Wanda, I can't leave them without making sure they'll be okay..." Melinda hums, curious brown eyes urging you to elaborate further, because the world had always been a bit unclear on your relationship, and that's exactly how you'd all wanted it.

"They're my girlfriend's, and they're not doing too well. We kinda got into a huge fight before I died, I never got to say goodbye, and I think they blame themselves for my death..."

"Why would they blame themselves?" Melinda inquires, looking for the full picture before she attempts to approach the intimidating women., "Well, you see, I'd wanted us to retire..."

~———————~•~_~•~———————•

Natasha's incredulous laughter filled the room, billowing off the walls and assaulting your ears and heart all in one go., "You can't be fucking serious right now Y/N! We have an innate responsibility to the world to continue on protecting it! So no, we can't just retire and live out your happy little fantasies."

"But...," Wanda cut you off, "Look Y/N/N, Natasha is right, eventually we can have all those things, but to do it now would just be irresponsible, and frankly a bit childish." Nodding, you wiped away your tears, then left them alone in your shared bedroom, not all that interested in hearing them out as they called out for you to come back and talk.

If you're childish for wanting to finally live a free, happy life then you might as well fit yourself to the title...Which is exactly what you did by accepting Fury's no contact mission without even a proper goodbye to the women who'd held your heart for nearly a decade...

"Dear W & N,

I am sorry for my previous comments, you're right, what was I thinking... The world will forever need us, so just forget my silly dream. I'll be back in a weeks time, Fury asked me if I'd be able to accept this off grid mission, and who would I be to say no?

A selfish child is what, so of course I took it.

I love you both with all my heart, sorry I missed you before take off, but hey, maybe it was for the best that it worked out this way. Giving you both the space you needed.

Love Y/N—Forever & Always 💋"

Unknowingly though, you were sealing your tragic fate by running from the pain...

~———————~•~_~•~———————•

Melinda takes a moment to hear you out, and she can't help but feel there's pieces left to uncover, but her attempts were soon thwarted., "I'm, I'm not sure what's happening, but I have to go..." You suddenly announce, Melinda's calls ignored as you blinked yourself out of the alley, and then found yourself at Clint's farm. Melinda groaned when you disappeared, then she set off in search of anything that could lead her to your lovers, hopes to have you crossed over by dinner dwindling as she trudges back to at least get a coffee to go.

—

Clint was a wreck when you found him sat in the barn, his clothes were tattered, flashes of him in the same articles runs through your mind. As you inched closer you saw the mess that had become of the man, and your heart ached; alcohol bottles littered the entirety of the barn, and his loud sniffles were persistent.

"Natasha, please, just call me back... I'm sorry, It-It was all my fucking fault, I'm so sorry...," His words throw you off, a sudden pain in your abdomen emerges and you drop to your knees before him. The shiner, and split lip far too familiar to you, and when you tried to reach for him you were thrown into a memory.

~———————~•~_~•~———————•

"Come on Y/N! It can't be that bad, I'm sure it'll blow over by the time we get back." The archer tries to keep the stakeout lighthearted, but your frown only deepens as he speaks., "No, Clint, after these last few days I still want the same things, to retire and start a family. I'd even be willing to stay home alone, but they dismissed me so quickly it seems I'm on my own either way."

"Y/N, your story isn't the same as theirs, you'd always been a hero, even when they tried so hard to make you a monster. Both Natasha and Wanda succumbed to those individuals, and now they live their life making amends." You shake your head in anger, "To survive! They're not monsters Clint.,"

He nods, "I know that, but deep down they refuse to believe it, and so this hero mumbo jumbo is to put it simply, is their repentance.," You get it., "Still, they had no right to crush your dreams, I think if you'd all just sit down, and express your fears that it will all work out, because they love you more than you seem to give them credit for."

His calloused thumb wipes away at the fallen tears on your face, a smudge of dirt left in its place, and then his sympathetic smile falls., "It's just dirt Cli—.," He wasn't fast enough, "Y/N! Get up, we have to go now!"

You couldn't hear his pleas, mind entirely too focused on the blinding pain searing through your abdomen, and spreading throughout., "Y/N/N, please, you need to get up...," the wet, hot tear hitting your face slowly coaxes you back from your stupor, you finally see Clint's face has been brutalized, and that his hands were covered in blood, looking down you quickly realize it's your own.

His broken gaze telling you what you already know, you're not going to make it, but he'll be damned if he just accepts that to be true., "Clint, you ne-need to go before more come.," He scoffs, "I'm not leaving you behind Y/N, now get up! or better yet..." He manhandles your dying form into his own, then takes off in a sprint, your weak pleas for him to stop falling on deaf ears, and surprisingly he makes it back to the safe house unharmed.

He lays you on the couch, ignoring your calls for his name as he searches for the first aid. With all your strength you shout, "Clint!" Finally, he looks to you, whimpering once he takes in your state, no amount of wound stuffing or stitching will do; you were a goner from the start, and now he had to face it.

"It's okay Clint, it's not your fault." You offer the man the kindest smile you could muster, and he falls to his knees besides the couch., "They're not going to be okay Y/N... This is going to ruin them...,"

"Don't let it, they deserve to be happy Clint, and when they're ready, please give them the rings I left at your barn for safe keeping."

"You can't go, it's not your time yet Y/N/N." Clint pleads, his strong hand gripping at yours., "It seldom ever is in our line of work Barton, now, dry your tears... I lived a good life, and I'm not afraid to die... Tell them, that I loved them with all of my heart, and I'm sorry we didn't get to say our goodbye's..."

"Tell them yourself.," You sigh., "I love you Clint, don't be so sad buddy, just go live..." Clint sobs as your hand falls limp in his hold, and your chest collapses for the final time...

~———————~•~_~•~———————•

"No, don't tell her that! It's not true..." You scream into the void, then when you blink you're back in your own house.

It's silent, breaking your heart as you remember the days when all it was filled with was laughter. Your attention quickly pulls from your fond memories when you hear a squeak upstairs, and you follow the sound to a door. Natasha's office, and so you make your way in through the cracked door to find her sat in her chair with a distant look in her eyes.

The voicemail Clint left replaying, and after the third loop she throws her phone at the wall, and reaches for her gun safe, an unsettling look on her face as she throws back the last of her drink and jumps to her feet., "I'm going to fix this lyubov'..." and your soul effectively cracks when she exits the office, and then the house.

—

Melinda's need to get her coffee doubled in her favor, because in the far back booth she managed to spot the famed Wanda Maximoff. The blue hoodie not disguising her as well as she thought it was, and so the woman took the calculated risk of sitting before her.

"No autographs, no photos, please just leave.," She immediately mutters, voice cracking as if she'd been crying, and the tracks on her face confirm the obvious., "I'm not here for any of that.," Wanda looks up to the woman, anger surging through her as she'd made no move to leave., "Well, whatever it is you are looking for, I'm not buying, so leave, I won't ask again.

"I'm here on behalf of your girlfriend.," Wanda scoffs, "Tell Natasha that if she wants to talk, she can use the cell phone.," Melinda sighs, a twinge of fear settling within her as she speaks., "No, I'm here on behalf of Y/N." Wanda's eyes redden at the mention of you, like bringing you up is some sick game to this stranger, but then something about the woman sat before her seems oddly familiar, and then her knowing about your relationship told her to at least hear her out.

"I'm not here to hurt you Wanda, but Y/N needs you and Natasha to help her cross over." Wanda's face scrunches as her words register., "Why would I want that? For her to move on?" Melinda quirks a brow, "It's what's best for her, she can't remain earthbound, and she won't leave until you and Natasha are okay."

"Okay?! I'll be okay when she's back in our bed!In my arms, safe and sound!" Wanda shouts in bewilderment., "Only then will we be okay..."

"Melinda! We have to go! Natasha is about to do something really stupid, please help..." Melinda's attention is drawn away from Wanda's outburst as you suddenly appear beside their table., "Y/N, slow down, and tell me exactly what's happening."

"Y/N's here?," Wanda whispers, and your eyes move over to view her, soul breaking at her hunched form, but you can't dwell right now., "Clint, she is going after him, she thinks it's his fault, but it's not, we need to fucking hurry." Melinda turns to Wanda who's already staring at her expectantly., "She said we need to hurry, Clint's in danger, and that Natasha blames him, but that it's not his fault."

"Y/N, baby? Are you really here, please, I..." Wanda panics, "Tell her to count to cats.," Melinda, albeit confused, nods., "Wanda, we don't have much time, she said for you to count to cats..."

~———————~•~_~•~———————•

Wanda had just returned from the worst day, she'd gone grocery shopping on her own, and while out there she was beyond overwhelmed. Natasha was out of town, and you were busy so she thought she could do it all by herself. Turns out she was wrong, now she's sat on the kitchen floor in a fit of tears, hyperventilating as she relives the dreadful hour over and over.

You were peacefully working on your overdue paperwork upstairs when you heard a loud thump downstairs, and then the next moment you're running down with your gun in hand. Quick to be placed on the counter as all you find is your girlfriend in a heap on the floor.

"Oh baby, what's going on?," Wanda just continues to shake, unable to answer you. "Wanda, I need you to calm down, I-um, can you count to.." You briefly got distracted at the sight of a stray black fur-ball on the window, "...cats for me?"

Wanda's breath gets caught in her throat at your ridiculous request, her previous panic replaced with concern for you., "Y/N, what are you—." She follows your gaze over to the window, and she chuckles at just how easily distracted you are., "Detka, how are you even an Avenger?," she laughs out, and you smile at the perfect sound of the successfully calmed down Wanda.

~———————~•~_~•~———————•

She smiles sadly, "Liho misses you...," Wanda then takes a steadying breath, slowly she stands up, and silently commands Melinda to follow her as they make their way to the farm, and you instantly blink your way back there.

Natasha is standing outside of the barn doors, "Natasha, I know you're there.," Her entire body stiffens as the man who was once her safety net speaks, then she's kicking the door in, and raising her weapon to his forehead., "Natasha, no, at least not here..."

"No! Not ever!!" You shriek into the void, she cocks the gun and shoves the muzzle into his skin., "Don't worry, I'll clean it up before Laura and the kids could find your pathetic body!" She pistol whips him instead, then once he's on the ground she straddles him, and replaces the gun against his head., "Tell me Clint, why did she die?! You are the fastest archer alive, how'd they manage to get the shot before you?!"

"He was distracted..." You whimper, once again to no one in particular, Clint then also explains, "I was distracted... She had been crying, and I wanted that to stop, so I tried to help her through her crisis, but it was a dumb choice because it cost her life..." his sobs break you, but you notice that they only further piss off the heartbroken woman.

You flinch when you hear the slide of the gun draw back, Natasha's hardened expression telling you she'd agreed with him, this was his fault, but you knew deep down she was just looking for a person to blame, for a reason. This emerging idea that you had died over such a silly fight was far too much for her to bare; if you didn't stop her you knew she'd regret this.

Wanda and Melinda were taking too long, so just as Natasha was about to pull the trigger you'd managed to fly the pistol out of her hand. "What the fuck was that?!" She screeches, jumping off the man to recollect her weapon, but you manage to toss it away once again., "Wanda! If this is you knock it off! Someone needs to fucking pay for this!"

It takes nearly everything in you, but you had managed to disassemble the pistol, scattering the pieces all over the barn, and leaving both Clint and Natasha with their mouths agape. Wanda was clearly nowhere in sight, and her characteristic red tendrils weren't present, so both of them were a bit freaked out.

"Natasha, I'm not sure what happened, but all I know is that Y/N didn't want this... She —.," He's cut off almost instantly by a harsh slap, "Don't you dare fucking speak for her Barton! All I know is that it should've been you!" Helplessly you'd watched as she tackled him back onto the floor, pounding her fists into his chest, and crying out, "It should've been you!" repeatedly. Clint accepted the punches, he almost looked relieved as if he accepted this to be a suitable punishment for his "wrongdoing."

Melinda and Wanda ran into the barn, your eyes locked onto the medium's, and she sent your distraught face a sympathetic smile. "Natasha! Get off of him!," Wanda shouts, using her powers she pulls the woman back., "No! Let me go! I-I, Y/N's gone, and it's his fault! He even fucking said it was...,"

"Tasha, it was none of your fault!" You shout, and Melinda steps forward., "Who are you?!," Wanda answers her distraught girlfriend., "Nat, meet Melinda Gordon, she can speak to the dead, and she's here because of Y/N/N." Natasha laughs incredulously, "Yeah fucking right! Who sent you? How much? Does it make you feel good to prey on the heartbroken?"

Melinda doesn't even flinch as the redhead approaches her, and it's then you realize this woman has for sure seen some shit., "Tasha, she's not lying, I-I can feel her here, and she needs us.," Natasha scoffs, "Yeah? Well what about me? Us? We fucking need her, and she just left! Our last memory of her being a fight that never should have fucking happened... That petty little note is all we have left of her." the assassins voice breaking off as she begins to settle into the sadness consuming her.

"The rings..." Melinda looks up at you, and you gesture to the battered archer on the ground. "Clint is it? Y/N said something about rings." Clint's eyes widen at the piece of information, staggering as he gets up, wordlessly he exits the barn, and Natasha just shakes her head in disbelief.

"The rings." She mocks the woman, "That's a textbook piece of information to infer, you could at least try fucking harder here Melissa."

"Oh, I do not like the way this is making you act one bit, what happened to my sweet girl?," Melinda solemnly watches as you trail your ghostly fingers across the woman's cheek adoringly, repeating your next words verbatim., "Ya tebya lyublyu, my Tasha Bear..."

~———————~•~_~•~———————•

Out of the three of you, it had been assumed that you were the cuddliest, and that Wanda would come in as a close second, but nobody was ready for the truth... Natasha Romanoff, the deadly reformed assassin, had to be the most clingy person you'd ever met when she was comfortably behind closed doors, and she was truly the most adorable too.

"Y/N/N... I want to cuddle!!!," She whines, you expertly move around her in favor of the bench press, but the woman simply follows., and as soon as you laid on your back her front was flush against your own.

"I just love you so much, and you're so warm, and soft... Perfect cuddle partner, even better than Wanda honestly..." She tiredly murmurs against your chest, the rise and fall as you continue your reps, paired with your grunts somehow lulling the woman to sleep.

You chuckle, racking the bar back onto the rungs, and settling a kiss to her temple, Natasha reflexively smiles, pushing herself even further into you, and as effortlessly as possible you manage to get up, carrying the sleepy woman back up to your bedroom, and settling her atop the sheets. Her hands holding onto you ever so tightly so you won't leave, "Ya tebya lyublyu, my Tasha Bear...," You giggle out against her forehead, placing a few gentle pecks to her skin before allowing her the space to overtake your body.

•———————~•~_~•~———————•

"What was that?..." Natasha's voice cracks, tears falling down her face in quick succession as your words crack open the floodgates., "She's here.," Wanda reconfirms, pulling her lover into her arms, and consoling her as best she can while she herself breaks down.

"Please tell them that I'm sorry, it was never supposed to turn out like this. Tell them that I want them to find happiness, and to never give up on our dreams. It's okay to keep Avenging for awhile, but they need to eventually retire, and start on the life we all had dreamed of. That I understand why they were scared, and they need to know that I'm not mad anymore. Lastly, that it's okay to move on without me, and that I can't wait to see them being mom's."

"She's sorry...," Wanda instantly throws her hand up, "No, please don't apologize lyubov', we're the ones who are sorry... All you wanted was to talk about our future, and we just shut you right down, it wasn't right.."

"She said it's okay, and that she understands you were both just scared, but that she also hopes you'll live out the dream anyways, because you two not being mama's would be a crime to the world." Natasha sobs., "We can't live that life without you Y/N/N, it wouldn't be right to bring a kid into the world without you."

Clint re-emerges into the barn, two velvet boxes in hand as he takes tentative steps towards the tearful couple on the ground. Gently he hands them over, the green box to Wanda, and the red to Natasha, along with a folded up piece of paper, he then moves to leave again, but Melinda grips his shoulder to stop him.

"Y/N wants you all to listen now, this man is innocent, if anything she likens him to a victim. He'd been nothing but good to her the whole time they were away, and his heart was in the right place when he consoled her that night. The mission went South, and the only one at fault was the man who shot her, that Clint then brutally handled, justice came quick for her. Let it go, heal from this, and forgive yourself."

Clint slips out right after she speaks some hopeful peace to him, and you kneel beside your lovers as they open their respective rings., gasps of total shock fall from their lips at the sheer size of the rocks on the unique bands, and you smile when you see the love in their eyes shining bright as they slip the rings onto one another's fingers, then Natasha opens your letter, and begins to read it aloud.

"To my Dearest W & N.,

If you're reading this then it means I'm gone, and I'm so incredibly sorry for that my loves. Nevertheless, I had some big plans for us, and I write to you in the hopes that when you're both ready, you'll go out there and truly fucking live. Travel the world freely, without the obligations of being an Avenger, buy that cabin in the woods of Norway, and adopt a fur sibling, or maybe even a human one for Liho, I can tell he's getting lonely.

Whatever you do, please don't give up on each other, or let the grief of my untimely death consume you wholeheartedly. You're stronger than that my angels, and I know you'll be okay.

Please, do come find me in the afterlife, and when you do we'll have our most perfect union. We'll dance for hours under the clear skies of our personal Heaven, and I promise I'll never let go of your hands ever again.

With all my love, Y/N Maximoff-Romanoff

P.S. I really hope I'm right in assuming you two would've said yes...

P.S.S. If you ever loved me, you will NOT let Tony memorialize me in statue form, we all know he'll give me tits the size of watermelons, and an ass bigger than Texas... I just can't go out like that, I beg of you..."

Natasha wipes her tears with the back of her hand, clutching your paper close to her chest., "Are you stupid? Of course I'd fucking say yes," Wanda playfully slaps her shoulder, "Y/N, I'd say yes to you in any realm of the multiverse, I promise we'll travel detka, and Liho will indeed have siblings..."

Melinda smiles when she sees the peace washing over you, "You three shared a love that most could only dream of having experienced, and I'm truly sorry that it ended the way it did.," You smile over the woman's shoulder as you stood up., "That's the light right?," She shrugs, "I can't see it, only you can.,"

"What's happening?" Natasha asks in a slight panic., "She's ready to crossover."

"Wait, detka..." Wanda cries out, "I want to try something.," Melinda extends her hand out when she sees Wanda's inquisitive glance, and with the use of her magic she's able to connect with the medium, your ghostly form becoming visible to her, and she nearly collapses when she sees your beautiful smile from the side after two long months of deprivation.

"Detka... I-I can see you...," She sobs, and you turn to face her fully, smiling bright as you do., "Oh Wands, don't cry.," You plead tenderly, hand reaching out to stroke her tear stained cheek, and she gasps at the feeling of you., "Nat, come here.," She scurries over, fingers intertwining with the witches, and as she blinks her eyes back open her vision is filled with you.

"My beautiful girls, I love you so very much.," your hands cup one cheek each as you guide their foreheads to meet, laying yours against there's and sighing at the familiar touch., "You'll be okay, I promise, and so will I..."

"What's it like detka?," Natasha inquires with a saddened, but nonetheless reassuring smile.

"It's warm, bright, and so inviting, and Wands, I-I can see Pietro, he's waving me down..." Wanda beams as you mention her late brother, you'd only met once, but she wouldn't expect any less of him to be waiting for you in the light. It's funny, he'd called your relationship before you or Natasha were even on good terms with her, "Trust me sestra, it will happen...," and happen it did, he just wasn't there to see it.

"Give him a big hug for me moya lyubov'.,"

"Until we meet again my loves.," You bid a final farewell, gently kissing their foreheads, and then their lips before turning to Melinda., "Thanks again Melinda, you gave my girls the necessary peace, and helped me find my own.," The woman winks., "All in a days work."

You walk away, all three woman watching intently, you turned to smile at them all once more, then you slowly disappeared as you crossed on over and through the bright light, "Thank you..." Melinda nods, then leaves the women behind in the barn, taking off in her rental, and praying to have a far less eventful day tomorrow...

Wanda and Natasha slept in the barn that night, riding out the high that seeing you for a final time gave them, and brainstorming where they'd be headed off to first as Fury blew up their phones, "This is no time to quit...," Frankly, they disagreed, this is as good a time as any to start their life together, the spark you'd reignited shining bright within their hearts...

———————————————————

#natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff imagine #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda x natasha #wanda x reader x nat #wanda x you x nat #wandanat imagine #wandanat oneshot #wandanat x y/n #wandanat x you #wandanat x female reader #wandanat x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wandanat angst #wandnat fluff #gxg

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lyranova · 5 months

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Children of the Future: Shadows of the Past

Chapter 12: Memories Flashing Before my Eyes

Hiya guys! Here’s chapter 12 and it’s the final one for the “Spade Arc” for this series, so from now on we’ll be back in Clover and seeing what’s all going on there! This chapter contains a lot of memories from others series/oneshots/etc; and some even contain bits from “Children of the Future” so I hope you all enjoy this angst filled chapter, and please mind the warnings 🥰!

Word Count: 5,689

Warnings: Blood, Violence, Angst, Major Character Death

————

Yuno gently set Neva down onto their bed, quietly making sure that she was comfortable and wouldn’t be disturbed, before quietly reaching out to hold her hand as he sat on the edge of their bed.

Her hand was so cold and pale in his…he quickly placed his other hand against it and began to rub her hand with his, trying to warm it up, when he suddenly paused.

She was dead…so there was no reason to try and warm up her hand…

Yuno gritted his teeth as he could feel tears welling up in his eyes again and he quickly closed them before leaning forward and resting his forehead against their clasped hands.

This wasn’t right. This wasn’t fair. He was the one who was supposed to die tonight, not her. She was supposed to be the one to run away, to live, and to make sure their children were safe and protected, not him. This. Wasn’t. Right.

He slowly opened his eyes and looked over their hands to stare at Neva’s cold and lifeless face…if one didn’t know any better, they would assume that she was peacefully asleep…Yuno almost scoffed, how he wished that were the case instead…

As he stared at her suddenly so many memories began to flood his mind and cloud his vision.

The memory of their first date, their first kiss, the memory of how she tried her best to save him from Zenon and proclaimed her love for him, the memory of her disappearing before being found again, the memory of him proposing to her…

“ 6,329.”

“ Do you remember when we first began dating? You asked me how many years you thought we could be together, and I didn’t answer you. Well now I am. The answer is 6,329. That’s how many years we’ll be together. That’s how many years I want to spend with you.” Yuno announced as he turned around, moving a little closer to the balcony.

“ I don’t want to spend all that time with someone else. I want to spend it with the person who makes me smile all the time, the person who…who makes me believe in myself, who believed in me before anyone else did. The person who pushes me to be an even better person. I want to spend my life with you, and only you, Neva Belmonte!”

“ After I found you again, I made a promise to myself that I would never let you go again and I’m not going to break that promise.” Yuno suddenly pulled something out of his pocket and held it out towards her, with a warm happy smile on his face.

“ Marry me, Neva.”

Then…the memory of their wedding…

“ Do you Yuno Grinberryall,” Father Orsi sniffled a bit. “ Take Neva Belmonte to be your wife?” He asked and Yuno nodded as a soft smile appeared on his face again.

“ I do.”

“ Do you, Neva Belmonte, take Yuno Grinberryall to be your husband?” He asked as he grabbed a handkerchief and blew his nose, Neva chuckled but nodded with a bright smile on her face as well.

“ I do.”

“ Now I pronounce you husband and wife,” Father Orsi began to sob again. “ Y-You may kiss t-the bride!”

Yuno sighed and shook his head before turning back to look at Neva, who was giggling quite a bit at Father Orsi’s reaction.

“ He’s embarrassing.”

And then finally his mind wandered to when she told him that she was pregnant…

“ Did…you already know about the rumor saying that you were barren?” Yuno asked as he raised a brow, and Neva nodded.

“ I did.”

“ Then why didn’t you say anything?” Yuno asked, and he watched her sigh before she moved her head to stare back up at the sky.

“ Because it’s just a stupid rumor someone started, and I didn’t want you to worry or get upset over it,” Neva said softly as she watched the clouds move quickly across the sky. “ So I just…kept it to myself.”

“ Besides, the rumor clearly isn’t true…at least not as of today,” Neva said softly as she turned to stare at her husband with a knowing gaze, and he turned to look at her with a confused frown.

“ What do you mean?” He asked, the confusion on his face bleeding into his voice. Neva grinned before turning away from him.

“ What do you think I mean?” Neva asked with a quirked brow, Yuno just stared blankly at her. “ Seriously? You didn’t understand what I was saying?”

Yuno’s frown deepened as he replayed her words over and over again, the rumor wasn’t true, at least as of today? What did she mean by that? As his face studied hers for a few moments it slowly began to dawn on him, he watched as her eyebrows raised in a ‘Do you get it now?’ manner.

Oh…Oh!

“ Neva, are you saying…?” He trailed off as his amber eyes widened in surprise and disbelief, but her smile widened, her face turned a slight pink shade, and she nodded.

“ Yes, I’m saying that I’m pregnant.”

Yuno smiled softly as the tears flowed freely from his eyes. Why…why did all of these memories have to come up now? Why didn’t they just stay locked away, at least until the battle was over?

The battle…Yuno’s eyes widened.

He quickly turned to look out the window. Different colors flashes in the darkness, faint shouts could be heard on the other side as people fought with all their might to protect themselves, their homes, their loved ones…

They weren’t giving up…

His gaze drifted back to his wife’s body, he didn’t want to leave her…but he had to. He needed to help defeat the devils and protect everyone. But first, he needed to keep his promise to Neva and find their children.

Starting with Kito.

“ I’m sorry Neva, but I’m going to have to leave you by yourself for a while,” He told her softly as he placed a soft kiss against her knuckles. “ I’ll find our children, get them to safety, and then come back to take care of the unwelcome guests. Once that’s finished I’ll come back for you. So just wait here for me. I won’t be long.” He whispered softly, knowing full well that she couldn’t hear him and that she wouldn’t be going anywhere.

He placed her hand gently at her side before standing up and walking out of the room. His stride angry and determined.

He was going to save their children, and then he was going to find the devils and make them pay for what they had done.

———

Yuno used his Conjunction spell to quickly teleport back down to the courtyard. This was the last place Kito had been seen, and from what he recalled, Neva had pointed down one of the hallways before she died. So…that had to be the way his son went, right?

He quickly used his wind magic to float as quickly down the hall as he began looking around. He could sense his son's mana, which was good, as that meant he was still alive and nearby.

“ Kito! Kito, where are you?!”

Kito ran and ran down the hallways, not knowing or caring where he was going, instead he was just remembering his mothers words.

Run away. Find your father and sisters.

And that’s exactly what he planned on doing. He was going to find his father first, and then his sisters. Then everything would be okay…right?

But then his mind drifted to his mother…

She was really, really hurt back in the courtyard. Was she okay? Did his father find her in time? Or was she…? The boy quickly shook his head, no, she had to be alive! He saved her! She was smiling at him before he ran away! She was alive!

He needed to believe that…he needed to!

Suddenly, the boy felt something still and heavy hit his feet, causing him to trip. Even though he reached his hands out to catch himself, he still ended up falling on them and his knees. He blinked a bit in confusion, there shouldn’t have been anything in the way, so why did he fall?

The boy turned around slowly and his amber eyes widened in shock and horror as the moonlight illuminated what exactly he tripped over.

A servant's lifeless body.

Kito felt his heart race in his chest as his breathing began to quicken, panic and adrenaline pumping in his veins as he just stared at her. His hands moved up to cover his mouth but then stopped as they also became illuminated by the moonlight.

They were covered in blood…but instead of it being his own, it was the maids.

The boy let out the most horrified shriek as tears fell from his tightly closed eyes. This couldn’t be real life! This had to be some sort of vivid nightmare he was having! No…this was neither real life nor was it a nightmare…

This was hell.

As his horrified screams and terrified cries began to grow louder and louder, all he could think about was his parents.

He…he needed his parents!

Yuno stopped dead in his tracks as he heard the screams and cries of a child float down the hallway, the screams and cries of his child.

“ Kito!” Yuno breathed, almost not daring to even believe that was his son's cries. “ Kito!” He quickly dashed towards the sound.

Kito froze as he heard the sound of his fathers voice, shouting his name, echo down the hall. The boy felt this sense of relief wash over him as he slowly began to stand up.

His dad came for him, just like he had always promised he would.

“ Dad…DAD!” The boy shouted, his voice echoing the relief and happiness he felt at the sound of his fathers voice.

He quickly ran down the hallway, heading towards the voice, he was safe! Finally, he didn’t have to run or be scared anymore! He could finally escape from this nightmare he found himself in!

But suddenly, something wrapped tightly around his waist and pulled him towards them. Before he could think or let out a shout he felt someone place a hand over his mouth. He fought as hard as he could, and tried to scream and shout from behind their hand but it was no use. All it did was cause the person holding him to dig their nails into his cheek.

“ Kito!” Yuno shouted as he stopped in the hallway, and he began to look around wildly.

He had heard his son’s voice, had sensed his mana, and even followed the bloody footprints all the way here…and now it was all gone…it was like his son had just disappeared?!

“ Kito, are you here? Call out if you can hear me!” Yuno shouted desperately as he tried his best to listen for his son and sense his mana.

But he heard and sensed nothing…

Kito stared at his fathers defeated and confused face, and began to scream and fight harder against his captor as tears streamed down his face.

“ I’m right here dad! Just turn this way, I’m right here!!” Kito thought with a begging tone and pleading eyes, all he had to do was turn…

But then, another child's scream echoed down the opposite end of the hallway and Yuno turned around with a surprised expression as Kito also froze.

That scream belonged to Miku.

Yuno felt his heart race as his mind went back and forth, what did he do? Did he stay here and continue searching for his son, or did he rush to go save his daughter?

What…did he do? Neither choice was good in this scenario. But ultimately he would have to decide.

Kito’s eyes widened as he saw the regrettable look on his fathers face. He began to shake his head quickly as more tears fell down his cheeks.

“ No..nonono don’t! I’m right here, don’t leave…I’m right here!”

But his pleas were in vain as Yuno used his wind magic to soar down the hallway towards Miku’s voice.

Kito’s shoulders slumped as all the fight seemed to leave his body. He wasn’t being rescued, he wasn’t going to escape this nightmare, he was finished.

“ Aw poor little pup, your fathers abandoned you. Well who could blame him, considering you were dumb enough to leave a trail of footprints for the snake to follow.” His captor hissed in his ear, a devilish smirk on his face.

Kito turned to the side and paled as he stared at his captors pale face, dark eyes, and devilish grin.

“ Have you ever heard the story about the mouse and the snake?”

————

Yuno flew as quickly as he could towards Miku’s voice, his heart pounding in his ears and willed himself to go faster…he had to save her. He couldn’t…he couldn’t lose anyone else tonight.

Especially not one of his children.

“ Mom, dad, please save me!” Yuno heard his daughter shout as loudly as she could, hoping beyond all hope one of her parents would hear her.

Without a second thought, Yuno used his wind magic to blast away the deranged mage that was trying to attack his eldest child. His amber eyes glared angrily at it as it laid behind Miku unmoving.

His eyes softened as he stared down at his daughter, relief washing over him as she slowly opened her eyes and her purple eyes slowly traveled up from his feet to his face. Where he watched them widen slightly, and the fear in them melt away into relief.

“ Father!” Miku shouted in relief, she watched as her father lowered his hand.

“ Mi-Miku,” he said, his voice slightly out of breath but full of relief, before he knelt down in front of her. Miku jumped up and wrapped her arms around her father, which he returned. Yuno had never been so relieved to see his daughter in his life, knowing now that she was alright made him feel like a small ounce of weight had fallen from his shoulders.

“ Are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere? Let me look at your hands.” Yuno said quickly as he pulled away from his daughter slightly to inspect her, she appeared to be completely unharmed except for her hands, which had gotten injured from the fall she just took.

“ I’m fine, don't worry, but father… What’s going on? Where is everyone?” Miku asked in confusion, she frowned a bit as she studied her fathers face. He was paler than usual, and she could see beads of sweat on his face. He was breathing heavily, and she could see there were many different emotions swirling in his eyes even though his face remained neutral.

Yuno stared at his daughter as he tried to think. Did he tell her the truth? Or did he just…lie to her? She was only a child…

“ Honestly, I’m not too sure myself. We were discussing an important matter when it suddenly grew dark outside, and the next thing we knew it became complete chaos.” Yuno quickly explained, not necessarily lying but instead he decided to..omit key bits of information. She was already scared, so why try to scare her more by telling her they were being attacked by devils?

But he could see a suspicious look on his daughter's face. One his wife wore many times, he felt a sharp pang in his chest at the thought of Neva, but he quickly pushed it out of his mind. “ I’m sorry dear, but that’s all I can tell you for now.” He told her, trying to pacify her suspicions for now. He suddenly watched as his daughter's eyes grew wide and she began to look around.

“ Where’s mom? And Kito and Kya?” Miku asked. It was very rare to see her father without her mother and vice versa, when you saw one the other wasn’t too far behind. She suddenly saw pain flash across her fathers face as he looked at her and then looked away. This caused her frown to deepen. “ Father…?”

“ They’re fine, your mother, brother, and sister are all fine. We’ll meet up with them soon I promise.” Yuno lied softly, and he knew Miku could tell he was lying, he was just…too honest. He watched as tears welled up in Miku’s eyes.

“ They’re…they’re all dead. Aren’t they?” She asked, her voice cracking at the end of her sentence. Yuno winced at her words before he let a soft sigh escape him and his gaze dropped down to the floor.

“ Your brother and sister are missing but,” He paused for a brief moment, clearing his throat as it suddenly went dry, before continuing. “ Yes, your mother…is dead.” He admitted so softly that they both nearly missed it. He looked up at her again, tears running down his face, and pain and heartbreak shining in his eyes.

He wasn’t lying to her now.

Yuno quickly enveloped his daughter into a tight hug as he saw tears well up in Miku’s eyes and slowly fall onto her cheeks. Yes he was in pain but right now so was she and in his opinion, her pain was far worse than his.

He held his sobbing 12 year old daughter in his arms and tried his best to comfort her. A small memory suddenly appeared in his mind.

“ Waah~! Waah~!” A 2 month old Miku wailed as her father tried to shush her and rock her back and forth in his arms.

“ Miku it’s alright, I’m right here, so please don’t cry.” Yuno muttered softly as he rocked her in his arms, but when that didn’t seem to work began to gently bounce her up and down.

This wasn’t his first time holding a baby, but looking at him struggling now, one would think that it was.

But she didn’t seem to hear him, instead she cried louder and her face grew even redder. Yuno stared down at his newborn daughter with a perplexed look.

She had been fine their entire walk, not a peep was made, all she did was laugh and smile a bit at him and their surroundings. But when they entered this annex, she suddenly began to scream and cry.

And this wasn’t any of her usual cries either, this was a scared type of cry.

He looked around, his amber eyes scanning the annex to see what could have possibly scared her, when his eyes landed on a very large statue staring down at them in a menacing pose.

Oh. That was probably it.

He looked from the statue back down to his daughter. As someone who had faced a lot of scarier things in his life, so this statue didn’t faze him at all, but when he thought about it from her perspective it did seem like a very terrifying and menacing statue.

So Yuno quickly summoned a sword from his wind magic, and sliced the statue in half as she stopped crying and watched him with wide eyes.

“ Miku,” Yuno began softly as he canceled his spell and held her securely in his and brought her closer to his face. “ I swear on my life that I will never let you get hurt. I will always do whatever I have to in order to keep you safe, as long as I’m around you will always be protected. So please don’t live in fear, and try not to cry anymore.” He added softly as he wiped away Miku’s tears with the pad of his thumb.

He had no idea if she actually understood him or not, but by the way she smiled up at him, he had hope that she did.

Yuno shook his head, why was he getting all of these memories all of a sudden?

“ I know this hard Miku, but we need to go. It isn’t safe here anymore.” Yuno told his daughter softly as he began wiping away her tears. She nodded as her sobs became quiet sniffles. He smiled sadly as he patted her gently on the head. As he stood, he let out a small grunt as the pain in his abdomen and across his chest suddenly appeared. He pulled his hand away and saw fresh blood.

He thought he had made it out of the battle with Ipos and Zepar unscathed. But apparently…that wasn’t the case. He mentally cursed at himself, if he had known or realized he was injured, then he would have tried his best to heal his wounds before his children saw them!

“ You’re hurt!” Miku nearly shouted as she saw the fresh blood soaking through her father’s clothes. Yuno quickly shook his head and tried to wave away her concern.

“ I’ll be fine,” Suddenly, an idea came to him. “ C’mon, we’re going to the basement.” Yuno added firmly before picking up his daughter, which only caused his wounds to ache more, and he used his wind magic to create a small vortex to carry the two down into the basement.

On their way there they encountered more and more of the enemy. Making him sigh in irritation, he didn’t have time for this!

He instructed Miku to keep her eyes closed no matter what and not to open them until he said, when she closed her eyes he began cutting the enemies down. Yuno frowned as he began to take notice of the clothes the mages were wearing.

They were wearing the Magical Defense uniforms. He recognized them as members of the Magical Defense Force. But they all…looked different. They were still using their magical affinities, but they looked hollow. Their eyes were completely devoid of any and all emotion. It was like they were dead, but their bodies were still moving. They were like undead puppets.

Soon, after Yuno took down a few more enemies, the two finally made it to the basement. Yuno quickly slammed the door shut and locked it before leaning against the wall, a hand clutching his side.

“ Miku, do me a favor and go down the stairs. See if you can find us a way out?” He asked with a small smile. He watched as the dark haired girl nodded before doing as he asked. Yuno slid down the wall and winced as his body began to feel all the pain the adrenaline was masking. He wasn’t going to last much longer, this he knew, especially since he had used up a lot of his mana fighting earlier. But he was determined to live long enough to make sure his daughter was safe. He had to get her to Clover, to Asta. That was the only person he trusted would keep her safe.

But the question was…how was he going to get her there from here?

“ Father! I found something! Come look!” Miku shouted. Yuno groaned a bit as his tired body protested against him moving. But he slowly made his way down the stairs, his body hugging the wall the entire time. When did he become so old? He almost wanted to laugh at the thought. Miku quickly ran over and helped her father.

“ I found this gate, portal looking thing. Maybe this will help us get out of here!” Miku suggested happily as she showed her father.

Yuno frowned a bit as he looked it over, it was nothing but an empty archway in the shape of a circle. There was a small podium with a flat pad on it that was next to the empty circle, but that was it. He frowned as he studied it. Of course there were no instructions, that would be too easy.

“ How do we work it?” Miku asked as she studied the empty archway herself. Yuno opened his mouth to speak when he suddenly inhaled sharply, his eyes widened and a chill went down his spine. He glanced down at his daughter as she stared at him curiously. She couldn’t feel it yet, but there was this dark, heavy, evil mana coming towards them. It was much stronger than any of the previous ones, and much more sinister. It must be the leader.

Yuno quickly walked closer to the pad, if he wanted to save his daughter he needed to figure this out quickly. He didn’t see any texts or ruins. Nothing even remotely hinting at what he should do. He let out a sigh before placing a hand on it to steady himself as he began to grow light headed.

“ Dad, look!” Miku shouted excitedly as the pad began to glow under his touch, he frowned a bit. He took his hand off and watched as the glow died out, when he placed his hand back on it the pad began to glow again. The longer he kept his hand there, the more mana he began to feel drain from his body. So that’s how this thing worked, it needed mana in order to activate.

Yuno and Miku watched as a portal began to form in the once empty circle, it almost looked like a spatial mages portal but the mana radiating off of it felt different. It felt older somehow. Yuno and Miku’s attention was suddenly drawn towards the staircase as the door was blown off its hinges. Miku gasped, Yuno assumed she was feeling the evil mana he had felt minutes ago. It was probably the most sinister mana she had ever felt in her life.

“ Miku, listen to me, once that portal opens completely I need you to walk through it.” Yuno instructed seriously as he kept his eyes on the staircase, you could hear the clicking of shoes against the stone floor echo off the walls.

“ No! Not without you!” Miku shouted as she grabbed her fathers arm tightly. He glanced down at her for a moment before shaking his head as his heart broke for the third time tonight.

Anytime his children begged or pleaded with tears in their eyes at him, he just…couldn’t say no. But tonight was different, tonight, he had to put his foot down for her sake…

“ I’m sorry Miku, but I can’t. The minute I let go of this pad the portal will close. It requires mana in order to work, lots of it, and it needs to be constant. So…I have to stay behind.” He told her softly as the footsteps grew ever closer. She needed to get through the portal now before he ran out of mana. Yuno suddenly looked down at the talisman he wore around his neck at all times, yanked it off, and quickly put it in his daughter's hands.

“ Here, this will keep you safe. Anytime you’re scared or nervous, just hold this pendant and close your eyes and you’ll see me, mom, Kito, and Kya all there with you.” He told her before patting her head again, she opened her mouth to ask about her siblings but he cut her off. “ As soon as I find them I will send your brother and sister after you, I promise. Now go.”

“ But-.” Miku didn’t even get to finish her sentence before a blast of cool air she recognized as her fathers magic pushed her into the portal. “ No! Wait! Father please, please don’t leave me!” She shouted as she tried to reach out for her father who had turned his back towards her, his eyes never leaving the staircase.

But then he looked over his shoulder and smiled sadly at her, tears running down his face. When did I turn into such a crybaby? He wondered in slight amusement. He mouthed a quick ‘I love you, Miku’ before he turned away to face the enemy.

“ No! Dad please!” The girl continued to cry behind her father. Yuno quickly closed his eyes, tuned out her pleas, and summoned his Spirit of Zephyr with what remained of his mana.

His heart thumped loudly in his ears as the footsteps grew closer and closer…until they finally stopped in front of him. A surprised gasp escaped him as he stared down at a very, very familiar face.

“ Y-You…but,” He stammered in surprise, his hand hesitating over his grimoire. “ Why…why are you…?” Suddenly, he let out gasp as the person in front of him waved her hand and used her magic to create a sword, which she used to stab him in the chest.

Blood splattered across the room as Yuno inhaled sharply before falling to his knees, he watched as blood poured out in front of him and onto the floor.

How…how could this be?

Yuno could hear Miku’s muffled shouts as his heart drummed in his ears, and his blood continued hitting the stone floor beneath him. He kept his hand firmly on the hand pad, just a little longer…just a bit more and she would be safe…

As soon as her muffled shouts disappeared, his hand slipped off the hand pad as he fell onto the floor beneath him.

“ K…Kya…why?” He mumbled, blood beginning to creep up his throat as his youngest child crouched down beside him, an evil grin on her face as she tilted her head.

“ Aw, sadly I’m not Kya, my name is Noir. But~,” Noir suddenly tapped the side of her head. “ She’s still in here, screaming and crying her heart out, as she watches her papa die right in front of her.”

Yuno coughed and sputtered up blood as he reached for his grimoire, but as he placed his hand on it, he could feel it slowly begin to disappear. He then reached for his Spade one and found that it was doing the same thing.

Crap…this wasn’t good.

“ As for why, well, my reason is for revenge. The others have their own reasons, and to be honest, I don’t really care what they want.” Noir explained with a chuckle. “ And as for why I killed you specifically…well, I did debate on making you into a mindless puppet like everyone else, but it would be a real pain in the butt if that Anti-Magic punk undid my spell and we ended up having both of you fighting us. So…I decided this is the safe and better option.”

Yuno wanted to curse at the devil that had a grip on his child, but he couldn’t. Not only because he didn’t have the strength, but also because he couldn’t curse at one of his children.

“ You look like you’re getting sleepy King Yuno, maybe you should take a nap?” ‘Kya’ suggested as a dark giggle escaped her.

“ Just shut up already,” Yuno thought tiredly, his vision growing darker and his eyelids slowly growing heavy. “ I’m not in the mood to deal with you…”

Yuno didn’t want to give up, he wanted to get up and fight, he wanted to keep his promise to Neva and keep all of their children safe…

But without a grimoire, was that even possible?

“ Asta, I’m leaving it all up to you now…take care of Miku and please…finish…this…fight!”

————

Asta let out a shocked gasp as he sat up straight in bed. His body covered in sweat, his heart pounding in his chest, and his entire body trembling…

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

He jumped as he suddenly sensed someone’s Ki in his bedroom, and as he pulled out his grimoire and turned to the side of his bed his green eyes widened.

“ Kaiyo? What’re you doing? It’s midnight.” Asta whispered, doing his best not to wake up Noelle who was sleeping soundly beside him.

His eight year old daughter bit her bottom lip as she clutched her little eagle plushie tightly in her arms.

“ Somethings wrong papa,” The girl whispered, and that’s when Asta noticed her entire body trembling and tears in her eyes. “ Somethings really wrong.”

“ What happened honey? Did you have a bad dream?” Kaiyo nodded.

“ I had a dream, that you and momma died, and then I got seperated from Mizu and Brielle, and I got really really scared! I thought it was real so I came to check on you!” She cried quietly and Asta quickly climbed out of bed and held his youngest daughter tightly in his arms.

“ What~? That wasn’t cool! Your mama and I are two of the strongest people in the world, there’s no way either of us would die and leave you three all alone!” Asta said in disbelief as a frown appeared on his face. “ Alright! Looks like me and the sandman need to have a talk!”

“ No, no! Don’t do that papa!” Kaiyo whispered hurriedly as she tried to stop him from standing, Asta quickly sat back down and looked at her.

“ But if me and the sandman don’t have a talk, then how will he know not to give you any more bad dreams?” Asta asked with a frown and a tilt of his head.

“ But if you talk to him and make him angry, then won’t he just give me even more bad dreams?” Kaiyo pointed out with a pout, and Asta laughed as he rubbed the back of his head.

“ Yeah, I guess you have a point,” he chuckled before looking at her seriously. “ I was being serious though. Your mama and I are really strong, and we’ll never leave the three of you by yourselves. So don’t worry too much, okay?” He watched as she nodded and he gently patted her on the head.

“ Can…Can I sleep with you and mama? Just for tonight? Please~!” She begged, putting on the cutest face possible, and Asta sighed.

Noelle didn’t really like it when he let the girls sleep in bed with them, but…maybe she would let it slide, just this once?

“ Alright, but you gotta get back in your own bed before your mama wakes up,” He whispered seriously, and Kaiyo nodded.

Asta helped the young girl into her parents bed, and he lifted up all of the blankets, let her crawl between him and Noelle, and then gently tucked her in.

“ Goodnight papa.”

“ Goodnight Kaiyo.” He whispered softly before placing a gentle kiss on top of her head.

As Asta watched her drift off to sleep he couldn’t help but continue to feel uneasy.

Something was wrong…

————

Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you all have a good day~!

#black clover fanfiction #black clover oc #black clover oc fanfiction #children of the future shadows of the past #yuno grinberryall #oc neva #oc; miku #oc; kito #oc; kya #oc; noir #black clover asta #oc; kaiyo

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1rsoldiersince2012 · 1 year

Text

Bound by Law (Matt Murdock x reader)

Words: 2458 (chapter 13)

Summary:

You and Matt met in the courtroom. Now, you may think that Matt was a knight in shining armour and defended you in the name of all United States laws, but that was not the case. Matt was totally destroying your client, and you wanted to tear him into pieces right then and right there, because with Murdock as your rival, your head is on the firm's plate with each case. Did Matt care? No, he only cared about bringing justice, he was a human-machine, driven by the need to bring righteousness no matter the cost. Or was he just that? What happens when you get involved in Fisk's business and Daredevil's lies against your will?

UPDATES EVERY FRIDAY

Find my other accounts on ao3 and wattpad under the same name <3

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1rSoldierSince2012

wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/1rsoldierSince2012

13. Crack in the Walls

The early Friday morning surprised you with news of one of the richest guy's in Hell's Kitchen death. The businessman Michael Dale was found dead in his office, a clean shot to his head. Apparently, his daughter Annie is pressing charges on her stepmother Melissa, and says that she has commissioned the murder of her husband.

Still shaken by Healy's suicide, and the mysterious 'Fisk' name, Matt felt stressed to take such a big case, but Annie, crying in their office at 9 a.m. really played with his heartstrings.

Melissa, upon learning of the charges against her, lawyered up - hired Benowitz, who dragged you into the case as well, and you found yourself sitting in his office at noon, wishing you didn't agree to that stupid deal of you helping them whenever they asked.

"You know that I didn't kill my husband, Steven. You of all people should know this best." Melissa sat arrogantly in front of Benowitz with her legs crossed, and dried tears on her face. Chances that she just splashed water on her makeup were pretty high.

Wait, do they know each other from somewhere? Your thought gets interrupted by Benowitz, "y/n, please be sweetie, write down Mrs Dale's statement." He briefly turns to you, sitting on his right, and you inhale sharply, but open the document on your computer nonetheless. "Melissa, where were you at the time of your husband's murder?"

"I was at home, making dinner."

"At nine?"

"My husband liked to return very late, especially on Thursdays."

"Why?"

"So he could leave earlier on Fridays."

"But he's the boss of the company." You interfere and Benowitz sends you a glare.

"He was a workaholic, very dedicated to his company." Melissa answers.

You catch upon her already freely using past tense when talking about her husband. Usually, people tend to mix up and talk about their loved ones in a present tense.

"What happened then?" Benowitz asks.

"I didn't wait for him and went to bed. There were nights when he didn't return at all."

"And you didn't find it suspicious... at all?" You ask again, earning another glare from Benowitz, "I mean, as a woman... We tend to jump to conclusions quite often." You smile slightly.

"No, I always felt that he was not one of those cheaters."

"Did your husband have any enemies?" Benowitz takes over.

"No, he was a good, fair man, everyone loved him."

The more questions Benowitz asked, the more you felt that Melissa was lying her ass off. Like she was prepared for it, like she knew that this day would eventually come...

You zone out for a while, and just feel yourself automatically typing Melissa's answers, when Benowitz loudly claps his hands together, "Well, I think we're good for now, so let's just settle down for the weekend, I'll be working personally on the case, so nothing to worry about, Mrs Dale. Court session is scheduled for Tuesday, but I think we will have to go through multiple sessions, because there is no evidence against you presented."

"Uh, thank you, Steven. Might I have a word with you? Alone?"

"Y/n, send me the notes, and you're free this evening. I'll give you a call if anything comes up." Benowitz hurries you with your whole laptop out in the corridor and shuts the door in front of your face.

"Asshole." You whisper under your breath and turn on your heel to leave, when you almost collide with one of the second floor lawyers, Todd.

"Whoops, careful, sweetheart, you're gonna hurt yourself." He puts his long arms on your elbows, pretending to keep you in place, so you wouldn't fall.

"Todd. Afternoon." You say formally, clutching your computer.

"What's the hurry?" He smiles viciously, hands not leaving yours, even when you step in the elevator.

"I have places to be, don't you?" You ask as politely as possible, pressing the button in the elevator.

"Just one floor up?" He laughs, looking you up and down, "fair enough, can't overwork those pretty legs of yours."

"Todd, what do you want? I don't have much time." You hurry out of the elevator, already pulling out the keys of your cabinet, he comes after you, opening the doors, and then closing them immediately when you step inside.

"Shit, they told me you had a spacious office, but never thought it was this nice." Todd looks around the room, and then plops on the chair in front of your table.

"Anything important? Let's leave it for Monday, shall we?" You pull out your purse from the wardrobe, and see how he puts his legs on your table, almost knocking down your Lady Justice.

"No, I think this cannot wait longer, y/n. Have a seat, will you, sugar?"

You swallow the urge to punch him with your stapler multiple times, and sit down, encouraging him to start speaking with the slight raise of your eyebrows.

"See, I have decided to pursue my career as a lawyer further, take it to the next level." He begins, waiting for some sort of reaction from you, yet, you only blink twice.

"Tell that to your therapist, I'm not going to congratulate you, if that's what you expect." You say, and he smiles even wider, putting down his legs from your table.

"See, that's why I'm gonna miss your pretty face." He leans closer, on the neatly clean table.

"Miss it? Drive to Manhattan, and you'll see it any time of the day, sugar."

"No, I don't think you're gonna stay there for a long time, too. See, my plan is to take you down. And get that warm seat of yours." He points to your chair, and looks around the room with a dreamy face. You remain silent and unimpressed. Not the first time someone threatens to get you fired here, and definitely not the last. "I know about your, uh, let's call it, little chat with Matt Murdock and his partner... Ugh, I always forget his name, the one with the terrible haircut."

Your heart skips a beat, but face remains unchanged.

"I happened to be at the same shithole bar, and overheard something that made my, as the servant of the law, life very difficult. Can you image?" He laughs to himself, "I sit here with a chick, and hear you talking about your case with your opponents."

You feel how blood is leaving your face, and you become paler with every word that leaves Todd's filthy mouth.

"I'm sure you, master's degree, know exactly how illegal that is, right?" He smiles, intently watching your reaction.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Todd, and I really have to get going." You get ready to stand up, when his next words glue you to the chair.

"I knew you were gonna say that, so I took a picture of you, just to prove that I wasn't drunk and confused you with someone else. Although it wasn't hard to do so, because how many blind lawyers do we know? One." He whispers and pulls out his phone, showing a picture of you passing a document to Foggy, and then another one with you and Matt talking. "I have to say, you two looked pretty cosy there, you and Murdock. I can kick you both out of your jobs."

"Yes, we've met, only because they asked me to bring them the jury's decision." You remain composed, yet very stressed.

"Oh, that third-grader bullshit won't work on me, sweetheart."

"What, you're gonna file a lawsuit against us?" You lean on the table too, crossing your arms.

"Us." He mocks, "so I was right about you two."

"Right about what? Todd, you better get going, seriously."

"How good is a blind guy in bed? Might I ask him for some tactics? Because he managed to break the most cold-hearted bitch in the office. After Hogarth, of course."

"Please leave." You stand up, he does too.

"No, no, I've been pressed under your shoe for almost two years, I'm not letting that opportunity go to waste."

"What do you want?" You exhale loudly.

"Now we're talking." He smiles again, "sleep with me."

"What? No."

"Why not? It's a simple way out for you, and who knows, maybe you'll enjoy it. Never had any complaints before." he smirks and you feel like you're gonna puke from the sight.

"You're sick in the head, Todd, please leave."

"Do we have an agreement?" He puts his hand out, yet, you look at him in disgust. "No? Okay, okay," he laughs, "no pressure, sugar, think about it during the weekend, I'll swing by Monday." He winks and leaves your office, loudly closing the doors.

"Shit." You exhale and throw your stapler at the doors, hoping that it will calm you down. Unfortunately.

***

A few minutes until the end of the work day, you stop in front of Nelson and Murdock, anxiously waiting for either Foggy or Matt to exit. And you appear there just in time, when Matt steps out, followed by Foggy and a blonde girl by his side.

"Evening." You acknowledge yourself, and Foggy lights up like a Christmas tree.

"Y/n, hi." He is the first one to give you a side hug, although you didn't expect it at all.

"Y/n, is that her?" Karen asks, looking at both Matt and Foggy.

"Yes, that's her." Matt fixes his glasses, smiling at you, "hi."

"Oh, I'm Karen Page, these two mentioned you around the office a lot." Karen steps forward to give you her hand, and you shake hers.

"Well, I'm sure I don't have to introduce myself anymore." You smile slightly, and eyes fall on Matt's crouched figure. "I've been meaning to steal Murdock, may I?"

Matt furrows his eyebrows, Foggy is quick to agree. "I want him back Monday morning!" He manages to joke while pulling Karen away with himself and again, you two are left alone in the cold.

"You wanted to talk about something?" Matt asks, not being able to read how you're feeling.

"My car's parked here, let's go, it's freezing outside." You simply say, and take Matt by his elbow, almost pushing him to the other side of the road.

After you sit down inside, Matt folds his cane and turns his body to your side. "Something happened?"

"This might seem stupid, but if you weren't involved, I wouldn't have bothered you at all." You turn on the ignition so that the car would stay warm.

"Involved in what?"

"I'm being blackmailed by my co-worker."

"What for?" Matt finds it hard to keep his hands to himself.

"Our talk about the case. At Josie's. He has a picture of us talking and sharing documents. And wants to sue us for breaking the attorney–client privilege. He wants us out." You grip the steering wheel hard, trying to not show how Todd's little theatrical affected you.

"Shit." Matt squeezes the bridge of his nose for a moment.

"I would get out of that myself, but he brought you and Foggy in here as well." You sigh loudly, leaning back on the seat.

"No, don't worry, it was my fault. I was the one who wanted to talk about the case, I'm the one who brought you into this."

"Matt, no. He wants me out. Mostly. We've been on the trial week together, and I got the higher seat. He wants to get me fired-"

"No one's getting fired, and especially not you. What does he want?" Matt asks, turning towards you even more.

"He... Wants me to have sex with him." You sigh again, hands falling back on the armrest.

"What? Absolutely not." Matt protests immediately, putting his hand on yours and squeezing affectionately.

"I have no choice, I can't go to court against him... He'll get me fired, this job is all I have... I can't involve you and Foggy as well, you can go to jail, you can-" you panic slightly, breathing with great struggle.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, it's alright." Matt pulls you into an uncomfortable hug, pushing your head into his chest, and you sniff loudly. "We're gonna think of something, I won't allow you to do something you don't want to, just because some asshole wants your job."

You should pull away already, but this hug, Matt's embrace and warmth is so intoxicating that you suddenly feel safe in his arms, but pull away, although, reluctantly, just to maintain the formal relationship between the two of you.

"Maybe there's no other choice. Maybe I just have to survive another shitty night, and all of this will be over."

"No, don't even think about it. I can't let you do it, y/n." Matt sighs, "I can do something... I can talk to him. Anything-"

"Matt..."

"Maybe he'll get what's coming for him either way."

"What?" Your eye twitches uncomfortably.

"Nothing. Nothing... I'll take care of this thing, don't worry, that animal won't lay a finger on you." Matt reassures, and for some mythical reason, you believe him.

In the shared silence, you find yourself putting your hand on his again, looking at the bruised knuckles. "What the hell do you do?" The question escapes along with a weak laughter and Matt's lips twitch.

"What do you mean?" He slightly shakes his head.

"Your knuckles, why are they always bruised, Matt?" Carefully, you touch the rough skin of his knuckles, and the scattered scabs.

"I..." He stalls, thinking of a reasonable, and most importantly, believable thing to say. "Punch the bag."

"Like in a gym?"

"Yeah, exactly, in a gym."

"I guess your gym buddy is quite rough." Your hands wander to the cut on his chin, but you quickly return to the present moment.

"Yeah, he is, no mercy for the blind guy." Matt chuckles, trying to decipher your emotions once again, but he doesn't want to let you go yet. "Listen, I heard Melissa Dale took Benowitz for her lawyer, is that true?"

"Uh, yes, she did." You collect yourself before you accidentally slip and tell him that you've been involved in that case too.

"How's it going for her? Maybe heard some talk in the office?"

Now it's your turn to tell a believable lie. "Personally, me, I believe that she had something to do with the murder." Matt doesn't catch you lying, well, simply because you told the truth.

"At least we're on the same page now." He smiles, for a moment, but then decides to have some fun, "hey, isn't there that guy from your office?"

"What? Wher-" you look around in panic, but then it hits you. "Bastard."

"You really believed a blind man?" He laughs wholeheartedly. "But seriously, what's his name?"

"Todd Salotto."

"Italian?"

"No, just a dick."

"Fair, fair." Matt nods to himself, feeling your hand still on his. You remember it too, and embarrassed, cough uncomfortably.

"You need a ride home?"

"Um, no, I'll take a walk. Thank you, though, very... Thoughtful." He opens the car door, letting the cold air of Hell's Kitchen hit your bare legs. "Goodbye, y/n." He gets out and unfolds the white cane.

"Have a rest, Murdock." You shout, and turn on the radio when Matt closes the doors, and the soft voice of Kylie Minogue engulfs you like a hug.

#matt murdock #matthew murdock #matt murdock x reader #marvel #foggy nelson #karen page #daredevil #netflix daredevil #marvel daredevil #bound by law #matts superhearing complicates things for you

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aikoiya · 9 months

Text

What if it was the 6 Human Souls that are somehow controlling Frisk to destroy Asgore’s Kingdom in REVENGE for their deaths as well as prevent the war/genocide against Humanity?… That would be an interesting tragic story, and it would be KARMA at it’s finest! 💖

(I used the brown heart for patience, cause I couldn’t find the light blue heart…)

~~~

💚 Frisk (Kindness): Why, Toriel? Why didn’t you go with us? Why didn’t you protect us?

Toriel: Wha-What?

💚 Frisk (Kindness): You knew that the King, YOUR HUSBAND, wanted to do with us. You knew he wanted to use us to hurt our own people. To start a war that would wipe out everyone, including innocent families. You knew that after one final soul, he could actually commit genocide… And yet you did nothing.

Toriel: I…

💚 Frisk (Kindness): You did nothing to stop Asgore or your Kingdom from destroying our bodies and ruining our souls.

Toriel: There wasn’t anything I could do to stop-

💚 Frisk (Kindness): YOU WERE THE QUEEN OF THE KINGDOM! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THE BRAINS! YOU DIDN’T EVEN TRY TO COME UP WITH A BETTER SOLUTION!… But if you had to abandon your Kingdom and betray your people, at least have the guts to do it right… But you didn’t have the guts, did you Queenie?

Toriel: …

💚 Frisk (Kindness): You left us alone, in the cold…You left us to rot… You left us to die…… At our most vulnerable moments… Y… you… really hatedus that much for wanting to leave?

Toriel (tearful): I’m so sorry, my child…

💚 Frisk (Kindness): Now I see who you were truly protecting by staying here, in the Ruins. Not us…But yourself!… To think I once saw you as better then my original mother… Eheheheh!!! But you really are no different than her!

Toriel (crying and sobbing): I’m so very sorry, my little ones!

💚 Frisk (Kindness): Every monster inside this mountain had celebrated the deaths of children… Yet they say that they’re the compassionate and merciful ones, while humans are the true evil demons… Well, if they want us to be the demons, we’re gonna grant their wish!

Toriel: No! Wait my children, you don’t have to do this! We can still make things right, I-

(Frisk strikes down Toriel with one strike.)

💚 Frisk (Kindness): Too little, too late.

~~~

Papyrus: I, PAPYRUS, WELCOME YOU WITH OPEN ARMS!

🧡 Frisk (Bravery): …Are you serious?

Papyrus: WELL, YES I-

🧡 Frisk (Bravery): You seriously want to hug someone that you know has killed everyone in their path, instead of running away to safety? I know that you’re naive and childish, but this is just straight up stupid!

Papyrus: B-BUT EVERYONE CAN BE A GREAT PERSON IF THEY TRY!

🧡 Frisk (Bravery): That’s the thing though, WE ALL TRIED! The problem is none of you cared! You monsters still hurt us!

(Frisk then strikes down Papyrus.)

🧡 Frisk (Bravery): So, why keep trying to please you?

~~~

Undyne: This isn’t just about monsters anymore, is it?

💙 Frisk (Integrity): What?

If you get past me, you’ll…You’ll destroy them all, won’t you? Monsters… Humans… Everyone…

💙 Frisk (Integrity): You’ve gotta be kidding me!

Everyone’s hopes. Everyone’s dreams. Vanquished in an instant.

💙 Frisk (Integrity): Oh, NOW you care about a human’s hopes and dreams!

Undyne: But I WON’T let you do that. Right now, everyone in the world… I can feel their hearts beating as one.

💙 Frisk (Integrity): It’s almost hilarious how arrogant and delusional you are. You make Papyrus look humble!

Undyne: And we all have ONE goal. To defeat YOU.

💙 Frisk (Integrity): I’m not even gonna dignify you with a speech about how much you suck, because your whole ‘heroic’ speech already reeks of hypocrisy!

Undyne: Human. No, WHATEVER you are. For the sake of the whole world… I, UNDYNE, will strike you do-

(Frisk strikes down Undyne, before she could reform herself.)

💙 Frisk (Integrity): You were saying, UndyingUndyne?

~~~

Mettaton: COME ANY CLOSER, AND I’LL BE FORCED TO SHOW YOU… MY TRUE FORM!

💜 Frisk (Perseverance): …Okay.

Mettaton: FINE THEN!… RRRRREADY? IIIIIIIT’S SHOW-

(Frisk strikes down Mettaton, before he could finish transforming.)

💜 Frisk (Perseverance): Show’s over.

(Frisk then turns his head to the wall and finds a camera.)

💜 Frisk (Perseverance): …How disappointing Alphys, you didn’t even try to protect your friend.

~~~

Sans: so, i’ve got a question for ya. do you think even the worst person can change…? that everyone can be a good person, if they just try?

💛Frisk (Justice): You never tried to be a good person, Sans. So you have no right to judge us or humanity, or anyone for that matter. You are nothing, but a selfish coward.

Sans: heh heh heh heh… all right. well, here’s a better question. do you wanna have a bad time? cause if you take another step forward… you are REALLY not going to like what happens next.

💛Frisk (Justice): Neither are you.

Sans: welp. sorry, old lady. this is why i never make pro-

(Frisk then strikes down Sans.)

💛Frisk (Justice): That was more pathetic then I expected.

~~~

Asgore: Now, now. There’s no need to fight. Why not settle this… Over a nice cup of tea?

🤎Frisk (Patience): …’There’s no need to fight’… Isn’t that interesting?… I remember those being my last words to you, before you ended my life…

Asgore: What?

🤎Frisk (Patience): Do you know who I am?

Asgore: No… I’m not sure.

🤎Frisk (Patience): Oh, you better remember me like your life depends on it! Why don’t you take a closer look?

Asgore: Why… You… Yes, yes, I remember you now… You’re one of the fallen human children… The patient soul…

🤎Frisk (Patience): You’re wrong, Asgore. I’m not the one with the patient soul…

Asgore: What? Then who are you?

💖 Frisk (ALL): WE ARE ALL THE INNOCENTS YOU DESTROYED!

💖 Frisk (ALL): WE ARE ALL THE CHILDREN YOU MURDERED!

💖 Frisk (ALL): WE ARE ALL THE PEOPLE YOU HARVESTED FOR POWER!

(Asgore could only silently look at them with horror, terror and guilt.)

🤎Frisk (Patience): You convinced everyone that we’re the villains… You want us to be the bad guys?… Fine.

(Frisk strikes down Asgore with one strike.)

💖 Frisk (ALL): Now, we’re the bad guys!

---

Aikoiya: Okay, this is freaking brilliant. *claps* Bravo.

I can’t help but wonder how Chara & Asriel would react though. I can’t help but feel like they’d in some way also blame them. Because if nothing else, none of this would’ve ever happened if they hadn’t done what they did.

Though, I can’t help but feel like Frisk is being sidelined here. Maybe have Frisk in control, but have them/her (I’ve always hc’d Frisk as she) be guided by the souls instead of flavor-text Chara. Mainly a corrupted Justice, because the corrupted version of Justice is Wrath or Vengence.

Just an idea.

#submission #ut #undertale #salt #salt fic #very cool #very cathartic

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beckwritesfiction · 2 years

Text

At Full Dark: Part 1

(18+ ONLY) THIS POST CONTAINS SEXUAL THEMES, MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT.

Summary: Ellie attends the funeral of her father, and reunites with people she hasn't seen since she was a child. Some have the best of intentions, and others don't.

A/N: I've been getting messages asking me to post the first chapter, and I'm happy to! I haven't hit my word count goal, but I'm putting this up a little early for you guys. I'm really excited about this, and I am hope you are, too! I wanted to read over this more but I'm currently posting this on my break at work.

Warnings: drinking, protected PIV, mentions of domestic abuse, mentions of past death and grieving. Let me know if there's anything you wish for me to add, and I'd be happy to.

Word Count: 4.5k

PART I

The paper the funeral home had given her and anyone else who walked through the door was the thing she stared at, rather than her dead father in the open casket in front of her. The church wasn’t very full, but that didn’t surprise her. In fact, she was shocked she wasn’t the only person there. From her understanding, her father was an asshole. And because he never remarried, he left everything he had to her.

Leonard “Lonnie” Belfure passed away at the age of sixty-one in his home located in Wabang, Wyoming. He is survived by his daughter, Virginia Eloise Brown (Neé Belfoure), and her husband, Weston Brown. Lonnie took over the Belfure ranch from his father at the age of twenty-six. Please join us at 11:00 AM on Monday, May 27th at West Baptist Church for the funeral.

If she left him months ago, Wes’ name wouldn’t have been on the paper, and she wouldn’t be thinking about how stupid it was that her last name was still Brown. She wasn’t even sure she wanted it to be Belfure, either. While she was supposed to be praying for her father’s soul, she prayed wherever he was, he couldn’t beat women, or yell at children. And then she prayed a better last name would come to her soon, because she wasn’t using Brown or Belfure.

The graveyard wasn’t far, so she set out to walk, ignoring everyone in church because she didn’t know them, and she wasn’t planning to. It was only when Cecelia stopped her on the steps that her face softened. Her sunglasses and foundation covered most of her black eye.

She hugged her tightly, the time she took care of her coming back to her. It was then that she felt like she might cry, and she hadn’t cried once since she found out her father finally died.

“I didn’t wanna pry, but I wanted to make sure you didn’t need anything. Had I known you were back in town, I woulda helped with—”

“I had someone put this together for him. It was no trouble at all,” she assured her. The last thing she wanted was someone as sweet as Cecelia, thinking she’d been crying and slaving away planning the funeral.

“Are you stayin’ with someone? Is there anything we can do for you?” She shook her head slowly, taking in how much Virginia had changed. There was no indication she was even from Wabang. She looked like her grandmother did when she came to pick her up fifteen years ago: totally out of place.

“I’ve got a room in town until I get the keys to the house. Really, you don’t need to go out of your way for me, Missus Abbott.”

“Virginia, honey, please call me Cici.” When she took her hands, she was reminded of her mother. It had been three years since she died, and in those three years, she hadn’t been comforted through anything that had happened to her.

“Call me Ellie, alright?” she said, not offering an explanation.

Cecelia looked over her shoulder, the rest of her family as well as everyone else making their way out of the church. “I’m sorry we only get to meet your husband under these circumstances.”

Ellie shook her head, laughing to herself humorlessly. “Oh, no. He couldn’t make it. Bad timing, but death waits for no one, right?” The rush of the small crowd was enough to separate them. But Cecelia found her again when she noticed she was going in the wrong direction. “Parkin’ lot’s this way,” she said, placing a hand on her shoulder. While she didn’t look upset, if she was walking in the wrong direction, she wanted to be gentle about reminding her. She had been old enough, walking in and out of this exact church, to remember.

“I figured I’d walk. It’s not that far.”

“No, come on. We’ll give you a ride.”

“There’s no room in my truck,” Perry pointed out as gently as he could. He was fragile, imagining he’d be throwing a funeral for his missing wife soon if she wasn’t found.

Rhett, who’d overslept, had driven separately.

“I can,” he offered.

The walk back to his truck was longer, as he was the very last person to arrive. He had to park farther away as a result. “Sorry ‘bout comin’ in late,” he said, unsure of how else to talk to someone he hadn’t seen in so long.

“He’s lucky anyone showed up at all. You could've stayed home and I wouldn’t have taken it personally. I don’t even wanna be here.” Her confession came easily. There was a chance he wasn’t the kind of person he was when they were little, but something about her memories of him being so fond made her feel like she could be completely honest. “You didn’t come back just for this, did you?” She looked over at him, a small frown on her face. It was the first time she’d looked at him that day, and it was the first time he felt like anyone had looked at him in a while.

“Don’t have to come back if you never left in the first place,” he said, walking between his truck and another, opening the door for her. He held out his hand for her when she looked like she questioned how to get into it. She took it, stepping up onto the running board and inside.

When he finally closed his own door, she looked over at him. He didn’t look like he’d gotten a lot of sleep. “I guess I shouldn’t take everything from the last time we talked seriously.”

“Maybe some. I may not be the greatest rider in all of Wabang County, but I’m gettin’ close.”

She smiled at this, thinking back to how sure he was that that’s what he wanted to do, and now he was doing it. Maybe he hadn’t left town, but small town people sometimes didn’t mind the pace of life that came with where they lived.

“What?” he asked, finding himself smiling, too, and not feeling guilty now that he knew there was no one around to judge them. Smiling at a funeral wasn’t usually acceptable. But in this case, he assumed it was.

“I just think it’s funny how things work out.”

“Why? You take my advice and write books?”

She nodded as he began to drive. “Yeah, actually, I did. It took me a while, but I did it.” She didn’t tell him how she was supposed to pitch a new book, as she was contractually obligated to, by the end of the month, and she had no idea what to do. That worried her, but she had a lot going on. Even if her father’s death didn’t really affect her, her marriage did. She’d need to file for divorce, and she couldn’t keep dodging Wes’ calls forever. He was undoubtedly pissed that she left while he was gone that night, but she wasn’t ready to argue about it yet.

As they neared the graveyard, he knew their time together was running out. “You wanna meet later and catch up? I know I shouldn’t be askin’ before this is over, but…”

“Yeah. I’d like that. I’m on Main Street, so maybe the bar near there?”

Her not remembering the name, mixed with how articulate she now sounded, reminded him that she was so far removed from her former life there. As much as he looked at her, standing over the grave as they lowered the casket into it, he didn’t see the bruise on her face. No one else did, either.

Before Cecilia could offer one last time to help in any way she could, Ellie was approached by Wayne Tillerson. No one heard what he asked, but they heard what she said. “If I decide to sell it, you’ll hear when everyone does.”

“Ain’t really the time, now is it?” Royal asked, speaking for the first time that day. At least that’s how it looked to Ellie. The hostility was unmistakable, and she decided if it came to her getting wrapped up in it, she’d leave the sale up to a lawyer.

“How long you in town for?” Rhett asked when the bartender brought over the first round.

Ellie shrugged. “As long as I need to be.”

“What’s Mister Brown think about that?”

She laughed, seeing how he meant it. Like he knew something was off. She thought maybe he’d seen her bare left hand and put the pieces together. “Mister Brown can go fuck himself, and anyone else that’ll have him on the Upper West Side.”

It was the first time he’d seen her without her sunglasses on, and he thought about how she looked familiar, yet so different. Her features were sharper, but her eyes were the same. He never forgot the way she looked at him when they were little because, at the time, it seemed like she was the only one that didn’t look at him in a bad way. To that day, it felt the same. When she looked at him he felt seen. Not because he had a good ride and there was a girl that wanted to go home with him. It felt deeper than that, and it wasn’t something he’d felt since he was twelve.

“I didn’t realize you wrote those books,” he said, changing the subject. “I knew what they were. I’d heard about them, I mean. But I didn’t realize it was you.”

“You looked me up?”

He nodded, smiling a little. “Yeah. I was curious. Wanted to know what you were writing about. I thought a lot about what you might be up to.”

“I thought a lot about you, too. You were the first person that ever told me I should write books. That’s why I went to Colombia, for their writing program.”

“Colombia Colombia?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

She smiled, nodding. No one had been impressed with her accomplishments in a long time. With her mother gone, the only person who really knew her was Wes. And he didn’t like her being successful, or having friends, or going places without him. Despite growing up away from her father, she’d managed to marry someone just like him. Without realizing it, her smile had faded, and she’d been staring at her glass for way too long.

“You were the first person that didn’t think the whole bull ridin’ thing was a phase.” It sounded a little like an offer. One for her to continue the conversation and not think about whatever had pulled her out of it in the first place. “I still have that book you wrote me.”

“What did I call it?” she laughed, trying hard to remember it.

“Rhett Abbott: The Best Bull Rider Ever.”

“The way people look at you in here, it might as well be true.”

He finished his drink, then leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. He waved over at the bartender for another round. Him finishing his made her finish hers. “I got a few chances left this season to make it come true. The other stuff in there, probably not.”

“What else did I write?”

“Stuff about a happily ever after. I’ll blame that on the fairytales you were readin’ back then.”

“Why can’t you have that?” she asked curiously.

He couldn’t tell her why because he wasn’t even sure why he’d said it in the first place. If he was going to find someone, he would’ve found them already. At least that’s what he thought. He blamed it on the town, and on the account of him never leaving home like he wanted to.

The way he looked around told her he didn’t have an answer. “Well if you can’t have it, neither can I. Because I feel like I did everything right and now I’m here.” He looked back to her when she noticed his wrist. “What happened to your wrist?” she asked, looking at his brace.

“I fell on it wrong,” he answered dismissively. He didn’t want to talk about it because then she might be concerned. He didn’t want that to be all they talked about.

“Will it heal in time?”

“Doctor thinks so.”

“Does it hurt?” she asked, reaching out and running her index and middle finger along the brace. The way he looked at her then made her wonder why she did it. Maybe she was lonely, or maybe she just wanted to make sure he wouldn’t stop talking to her.

“If it did, what would you do?”

She leaned back, finishing her second drink with a shrug. “I’m not a doctor.”

A few more rounds in, and he asked her the real question that he wanted to ask earlier, when he read the pamphlet from her father's funeral. “What happened with you and your husband?”

After thinking for a second, she shook her head. “How would you feel if I asked you why you don’t have a wife?” she asked.

“Those’re two very different questions.”

“You answer mine first, if you wanna know the answer to yours.”

He nodded, thinking hard about how to say it without sounding depressing. It wasn’t, to most people. He couldn’t be lonely because he could get someone to go home with him every night if he wanted to, and he very often did. “Just hasn’t happened.”

It wasn’t the answer she wanted, but she assumed it was better than not getting one at all. “Standard stuff, I guess.” She knew not everyone hit their wives, especially not the day of their mother’s funeral, but she wasn’t going to say that. Feeling brave, she leaned forward a little. “It’s only been a few days, but I’ve wanted to do it for a few years.”

He frowned, missing something. “Do what?”

“Leave him.”

He hadn’t realized it had only been a few days since she left, but he figured that was better than her not leaving at all. “When’d you marry him?”

“Four years ago.”

That didn’t last long and, not knowing what to say, he shrugged. “Twenty’s young, anyway. That’s not your fault.”

It was, and she reminded herself that he didn’t know her, even if it was easy to talk to him again. “I don’t really wanna talk about this. Ask me anything else, and I'll answer.”

He nodded, looking around the crowded bar as he thought hard. “What are you workin’ on now, for your book?”

She bowed her head, releasing a small sigh. “I don’t have anything yet. That’s part of the problem. But I’m sure I’ll figure it out by Monday.”

“What’s on Monday?”

“I’ve gotta pitch my next book, and they’ll give me deadlines, and then I'll have to start writing again.”

“Well, I’m sure it’ll be easy for you.” He didn’t doubt her at all, remembering how easily she used to tell him stories based off of nothing. And he’d only really spent time with her during what was probably one of the worst weeks of her life. When it looked like she didn’t believe what he said, he put his hand on her wrist. “If not, why don’t you just rewrite my book?”

She laughed. Had he not said that, she would’ve thought too much about him touching her so casually. “I’m sure that’ll translate well with the adult market.” The bartender brought over another round, and she continued. “That would be a change, if I did that, though. I need dark, and mysterious, probably a little depressing, too.”

“That’s not what I thought you’d be writin’.”

“Well, you haven’t seen me in fifteen years.”

He wondered if that was a good thing. If she’d stayed, would she just think of him the way everyone else did?

They were there for so long that she didn’t want the night to end, but she also should’ve stopped a few drinks ago. He was ready to order another round when she stopped him from raising his hand. “I should stop.”

“You should or you want to?” She laughed a little, shaking her head and then regretting it. “I mean, I want to remember tonight.” When she released his hand, her arm felt heavy. He took her hand, and she met his eyes again.

“Maybe I don’t wanna stop talkin’ to you.”

“Maybe we don’t need to do it here.”

He nodded. After paying the tab, they left. When he walked her to his truck, he went to reach for the door, but dropped his keys. He almost fell getting back up, and she steadied him. “What are you doing?”

“Tryin’ t’be gentleman and open your door.”

She frowned. “You’re not driving.” He didn’t look at her at first, leaning back against his trunk. He handed her the keys, and she laughed, mostly out of discomfort. “I’m not driving, either. But I’m down the street. Let’s just go there.” Being on the third floor, and there being no elevator, it took a while to get to her room. When she nearly fell, he caught her. When it happened again on the second flight of stairs, and she sat down at the top of it, he offered her his hands.

“Come on, I’ll carry you.”

This earned another laugh, one that went on far too long and echoed through the corridor. “You’re not carrying me.”

“You don’t trust me?” He was so close to her, leaning down, that he almost kissed her.

She shook her head, her nose brushing against his briefly. “Not on the stairs.”

When they finally made it to the top, his hands remained on her hips, guiding her like they had on the way up. While trying to find her key in her purse, he leaned against the door, watching her. He thought her eye looked strange, like her makeup was smudged, but he ignored it, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear when it fell into her face. He’d wanted to kiss her all night. And now, it being all he could think about, was exactly what he did. Even though she hadn’t found the room key in her purse yet, she kissed him back. The handle slipped from her grasp, and she pulled away from him.

After finally finding her wallet, she fumbled with the key for a while before finally getting it inside the door. It opened roughly, her relying too much on the handle to hold her up. The noise it made when it hit the doorstop was loud, but it only elicited laughter from them. He kicked it closed when she put her purse down on the scratched table by the door.

“This is…”

“Shitty?” she asked. “Yeah, but it’s all there is.”

“You can come stay with us,” he offered. “Mom’d be happy to have the company.”

She turned around, taking off her jacket. “Would she be happy with the way you’re kissing me?”

He laughed. “Probably not, not like she’d know.”

“I think she would. But I’ve got a meeting tomorrow, anyway. I’ll have the keys to the ranch, and I won’t have to stay here again.”

He left it at that, sliding off his boots while she started to undo the strap of her heel, one arm bracing against the wall. She hadn’t sobered up since leaving the bar. If anything, she felt the full effects now. He helped her, urging her to sit on the edge of her bed. He grabbed her ankle, and she laid back.

“I haven’t been this drunk in years.”

“This is just a regular Tuesday night for me,” he said as he let one shoe fall to the floor. There was a thud, and she brought her other foot up onto his leg. She laughed, taking what he said as a joke.

He got the other shoe off even faster, and it prompted her to say, “You’re really good at taking off shoes. I can’t even get them off that fast.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice.”

Again, she took this as a joke. He got on the bed, hovering over her. His hips pressed down against hers, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, her dress riding up her thighs. The way he looked down at her made her smile.

“What?” she asked, her hand resting against his side.

“I forgot earlier…to tell you how pretty you are.” His free hand brushed against her cheek. His hands were rough, and her face was so soft.

When she smiled, he kissed her again. This time, when she kissed him back, he couldn’t believe how different it felt to him. No one kissed him this way, and he had no idea that she felt the same way. He wanted her, and she could feel that from him even before. It felt good to be wanted, but thinking about that made her wonder if she only wanted him, too, because she’d gone so long without feeling loved.

The second his hand went to her thigh, she shifted beneath him, kissing him harder. She hadn’t expected him to move further up. When he almost pulled her underwear down, she reached down to stop him.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked.

He was taken aback, and he frowned. “Cause I want you.”

“You don’t wanna know why I want you?” It felt like a stupid thing to say, and she regretted it the second she said it.

“You wanna tell me?”

“Should I do this if I don’t even know?”

He moved off of her, resting his head on the pillow, but staying close to her. She followed him, moving so their legs still touched, and her arm rested against his chest. Her hand was against his cheek as she examined him, conflicted.

“Tell me what you mean.” The longer she looked at him, the better he was able to see her face. Her makeup was messed up, but he realized now, with how close they were to the bedside lamp, that she wore minimal eye makeup. It wasn’t mascara on her eye, it was a bruise. Her makeup was wearing off as the night went on.

“It’s stupid.” She shook her head. “I’m just thinking too hard about something that should be simple. People drink to stop thinking, right? Not me, I guess.”

“What happened here?” he asked, his thumb brushing against the bruise on her eye. She flinched a little as she closed her eyes, and he frowned. “If you don’t tell me, I’m just gonna assume the worst.”

She finally looked at him again, nodding slowly. “The worst is probably right.”

The idea that someone would hit her was hard to think about, but once he pictured it, he felt like he needed to do something about it. “Does he know you’re here, where you’re stayin’?”

She went to answer him, but he was already saying something else. “Did he just do this, or has he been doin’ this a while?”

Ellie frowned. “I told you I don’t wanna talk about it. He doesn’t know where I am. I’ve been ignoring him. When I get a chance, I’ll have someone serve him and I won’t have to see him again. I’ve got it handled. I’m just…laying low here.”

“You’re not goin’ back to the city on Monday, for your book pitch?”

“If I wanted to sit and think about all that, I wouldn’t have gone out with you tonight. I can do it over the phone. It’s not your job to be worried about what I got myself into. I just don’t wanna do this with you if it’s for the wrong reasons.”

“I feel like my reasons are right. You’re beautiful, and smart, and talkin’ to you makes me feel like I’m who I wanna be. I haven’t felt that in…” he trailed off, hoping he didn’t have to say any more.

“We’re either too drunk or we’re not drunk enough,” she declared, laying down beside him.

“I didn’t come back here for no reason, Virginia. I—”

“Ellie. Call me Ellie.” He seemed confused. “I haven’t gone by Virginia in years, and I don’t want to.”

“Okay, Ellie.” Saying it felt weird. But he’d do what she wanted. Him saying her name made her regret putting so much distance between them. “I meant what I said; I like talkin’ to you.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I feel like I do.” She scooted closer to him again, and he wrapped his arm around her waist. There was something she wanted to say, but couldn’t find the right words. “What people say when they’re drunk, it’s what they really mean.”

After a second, she said, “You just make me feel…like I haven’t in a while. And I don’t wanna do this because of that. If that’s the only reason. And I can’t think right like this. I can’t tell if it’s just because of that, or if it’s because I’d do it just because I want you. I think I would, but what if I’m wrong?”

“Ellie, I’d be happy with whatever we do in here tonight.” His hand moved over the curve of her waist and to the bare skin of her thigh again. “Whyever you wanna do it.”

She wanted to feel loved, to not question everything she did, and to have someone sleep beside her that didn’t hate her. When she kissed him again, she was under the impression that that’s what he’d give her. It wasn’t as rushed as it had been before and, despite how tired she felt, she didn’t want it to end. At first, she was on top of him, liking the amount of control she had until she found that she didn’t want it anymore. She stopped kissing him long enough for him to realize what she wanted, and readjust. His hand was on her lower back, lifting her so she could get comfortable against the pillow before leaning down to kiss her neck.

While she released a shaky sigh, she grabbed his hips, wordlessly begging him to be closer to her again. She hadn’t liked sex in so long, as much as she’d tried. But she liked this. He matched her pace from before, thinking at first he’d have to deal with what she wanted instead of what really happened. He liked it because it was with her. Any other night, with any other woman, he would’ve thought it felt strange, how affectionate she wanted him to be. But he liked seeing her like that, hearing what he was doing to her. This wasn’t something quick that meant nothing, and that was all he was used to.

By the time he laid back down beside her, he was exhausted. He could hardly keep his eyes open as she pulled the covers over them.

“Will you stay here with me?” she asked as he reached blindly for the lamp, eventually switching it off. It fell, and he didn’t have the will to pick it up.

“I’d be real sad if you asked me to leave after that.”

The only reason he knew she was smiling the way she was was because she kissed him again. She rolled over next, moving back until she was against him, fitting in his arm perfectly. Her hair smelled so good, and he fell asleep trying to figure out exactly what it smelled like.

TAGLIST: @elevens-strangerthing @negomim @audri-janis

#outer range fic #outer range fanfic #outer range fanfiction #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott x female reader #rhett abbott #outer range #lewis pullman

67 notes · View notes

simplynotcapable · 9 months

Note

hey blue!! how was vacay?

also i had so many feels around this and would kill for your thoughts on this:

“I know you,” Visenya agreed. Her voice was shaking more than she liked, but she could not make it go steady. It was let it shake or break down crying, and she would not weep here with Daemon’s eyes on her face and Nyra’s anger slicking her skin like oil. “I know you, and I love you. I do, Nyra, I love you well, better than anyone, but that does not make me blind. I was there. I was there on Driftmark, when the two of you went to the beaches before Laena’s body had hit the seabed, when you came back with sand in your hair. I saw the way he looked at us, and I knew something terrible was going to happen, and, when the letters came, when they told me Laenor was dead, I knew. I knew it did not matter what Father said, I knew how he died, and I love you so fucking well that I bit my tongue until it bled and defended you every time anyone dared to suggest it—”

“You think I would let him lay a hand on Laenor? I did not love him, no, but he was dear to me! I would not wed the man who killed him! If you knew me half so well as I thought you did, you would know that!”

“Lie,” Visenya hissed through clenched teeth. “You are no fool. You are not stupid. You are lying to me, or you are lying to yourself, but you are lying all the same.”

Rhaenyra laughed, an incredulous sound as her face flickered through more feelings than Visenya could place. “Is this why you would not speak to me? Years now, and it was because the snakes in the Keep has poisoned you against me? Because of Laenor?”

“He taught me to swim,” she answered, helplessly, and roughly fisted the tears away from her eyes. “He read to me, when I could not sleep. He and Harwin taught me the sword. He was silly, and he was foolish, and sometimes I hated him for never being what we all needed him to be, but he was good. He was a good man, and he did not deserve to die just so Daemon could find his way to your bed! I love you. I love you. But I cannot just…forgive that and forget it. I cannot just pretend it did not happen, it is not so simple!”

and also daemon's and even nyra's. honestly, i'll take anything you can tell me about this entire confrontation if it isn't too much lmao

my brother and i climbed a small mountain to explore a weird cave and we both fell down a hill so vacation was a success 10/10

Visenya and Laenor is really interesting to me because he’s one of the few people that she doesn’t have to have complicated feelings about. Laenor is just Laenor. She wishes he was more what Rhaenyra needs in a husband, and sometimes she’s angry that he doesn’t see the things she and Rhaenyra can see so easily, but none of that changes that she loves him. He’s Laenor. He doesn’t treat her differently from the boys, even though she’s not his daughter, and he never looks through her like Viserys does. She can love him without constantly being on edge about it, like she is with the Targtowers. He’s not Nyra, who Visenya is always worried about making bad decisions and acts as this kind of icy buffer between Enya and the rest of their siblings because of her own hangups about them. He’s not Harwin, who she can’t even care about in front of anyone else.

She gets to just be a child with Laenor, completely uncomplicated. She doesn’t have to do anything or be anything, she doesn’t have to help hold him up. She doesn’t have to protect him, like she feels she needs to protect everyone else.

Laenor’s death completely takes that away from her. There is no one else in her life that she loves without feeling like they’re her responsibility to look after. Even Rhaenyra, who she thinks of as something like a mother, Visenya is constantly fretting over her decisions and her behavior. Harwin was kind of similar, but he’s dead, too.

Laenor’s the only one, and that’s why his death hurts so bad.

And she knows it was Daemon. There are lots of rumors flying around that Rhaenyra and Daemon had him killed or killed him themselves, and she fights them hard because she still loves her sister, but she’s pissed. She’s lost someone, someone that by all rights Rhaenyra should also be devastated over losing, and instead her sister marries the man Visenya believes killed him.

And she hates Daemon for taking Laenor away from her, for taking him away from the boys, and a part of her hates Rhaenyra for letting it all happen—and she’s angry with herself for being angry with Rhaenyra. She’s a ball of grief and anger and indignation, and none of this ever even crosses Rhaenyra’s mind.

She has no idea why Visenya won’t answer her letters! She cannot figure it out. They didn’t argue after Driftmark. They’ve never really argued. The only thing she can think of is Visenya being angry about Rhaenyra flinging Aemond into the line of fire during the confrontation, but she didn’t seem angry about that after it happened. She doesn’t know. She has no clue. She spends years with her mind whirling, trying to come up with an answer, and Jace and Luke have no idea, if they ask Visenya ignores the question, and she just. She wants her sister back.

And then she gets her back, and she finds out…Visenya’s angry over something she didn’t do. She’s angry about them killing Laenor, which they didn’t do, Laenor isn’t even dead. She’s listened to the rumors and she believes them. She believes Rhaenyra would allow it or, at the very least, overlook it, and she hates that. She hates that her sister could believe this of her, that Visenya doesn’t believe her even when she denies it. It hurts. It pisses her off.

She feels like she’s lost her, that Visenya’s been snatched up by Alicent and all her little whisperers in the Keep, and she can’t handle that. She can’t handle losing Visenya anymore than she could handle losing one of her boys, which is why she snaps and tells her the truth.

And this is Daemon’s first real dose of the Targaryen sisters’ relationship, and he is genuinely pleased about it in a way Visenya doesn’t notice. Because, yes, Visenya hates him, Visenya’s pissed at Rhaenyra, but even within all that she’s still loyal to Rhaenyra. Even thinking they killed someone she loved, that doesn’t waver.

She loves Rhaenyra the way he loves Viserys, though purer and not tinged with Daemon’s personal brand of envious tomfuckery. She loves her sister even when she hates her, and he sees himself in that. He sees himself in her, and—no matter how much she hates it—he’s right. She’s angry like Daemon and she’s spiteful like Daemon, she’s loyal to the point of losing herself like Daemon. She’s a little bit mad, just like Daemon.

He likes that. He feels connected to her because of that, even if Visenya would rather claw out his eyes than have a conversation with him.

To push it a little more even though this isn’t technically related to this quote, Visenya maintains her dislike after finding out Laenor is alive is because she has memories of a different Daemon.

Visenya remembers a Daemon who had a much better life and was much softer. He was a better person, for the most part, and a kinder person because Baelon’s existence pushes him onto a different path. She loved that Daemon. She thought of him like a father.

And she sees this Daemon, and he’s different. She sees the difference, the twisted parts of him, that he’s more brutal and broken, and she doesn’t trust that. She can see all the parts of him that are poison, and she wants nothing to do with it.

And it’s hard for her to hate him in this life—harder than grieving him was in that other life—but there’s something not right about him and she can’t make herself look past it.

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lovecolibri · 1 year

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No but for real it’s stupid because I don’t actually want to know more about Connor & Kameron because I wish they didn’t exist but we got a very sweet but ultimately kind of pointless flashback montage of two ransoms week but at no point in the last 9 months did they spend any time telling us anything about C&K or explaining their motivations or even a snippet of their lives to make them even slightly interesting and maybe offset their bizarre lack of boundaries.

Like I neither expect nor want the show to spend much time on them but I still think it’s weird to choose a donor so visibly different than your husband especially when it very genuinely increases his chances of racist encounters because however wrongly, people WILL be weird about this brown man with this white baby and he’s gonna have to keep explaining it over and over and over.

And then the idea that Kameron has literally no friends is downright alarming. Cause from a certain point of view if this was a different show, Connor socially isolated his wife and convinced her to get knocked up with the sperm of a man who was a total stranger to her so functionally no different than a proper anonymous donor but I guess she just takes his word for it that he’s a good person…. And then he dipped.

Poor Kameron, honestly. She should get to run Connor over with a car if medium size. But also what is going on in her brain??????

Yeah, I don't care about C&K at all and I don't understand how something that should have been about Buck learning and growing (ON SCREEN FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST) and what arguably SHOULD have resulted in him NOT donating because making other people happy at the expense of HIS peace of mind is actually the lesson that needed to be learned, became all about him managing the emotions of these two random people, and then the show not even really giving us any background or lead up to any of that either! This storyline has been a mess from the start but they already knew it wasn't being well received by the audience before mid-season and especially AFTER mid-season so we know they changed directions, but HOW was that direction not "Op! It's not actually yours Buck!"?! Because then they could have gone back and delved into Buck's emotions about it and again given us something about HIM. But it was never about Buck or his emotions! It was about KR wanting to create pointless drama and people didn't go for the cheating angle she tried to do last year, and her wanting to have a baby to hang over Buck's storyline.

Because lets be real, as much as this season has had 75 plots going for Buck, none of them have been done WELL, and almost none of them have given us ANY insight into what Buck is thinking or where he is at emotionally! The sperm donor arc fumbled that bag HARD, but also, he was looking for happiness, and then we haven't heard hardly anything about his state of mind since? And what little we got was about his death but they didn't delve much into that either?! He hasn't talked (ON. SCREEN) with BOBBY about it for some reason?! We know he was upset about being told he wasn't ready to be captain and wasn't settled in himself, but we haven't seen him talking about what he needs to do to be settled after he died? We haven't seen him talking to Bobby about how since he's still recovering maybe there are some books he should read or tests he should take to get a higher rank?! We've wasted how much screen time on the death doula and we haven't even really delved in to what has Buck so unsettled because he's also nearly died like....several times already? Which hasn't come up? We got told Bobby was his dad and yet they've barely spoken and not about anything deep or real since 6x11 told us that?

But sure, we have time for a 5 minute flashback of a couple we don't know. Yes, it was moving but at this point with SO much for the mains happening off screen or straight up just not happening, it's hard to enjoy those scenes because I just keep thinking about what we SHOULD be seeing.

#my sweet nonnie friends #911 #911 spoilers #evan buckley #buck deserves better and so do we #clearing out my inbox

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anukulee · 1 year

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Surprise (pt 2)

While Loki had been tied up in golden chains in the Avenger's hideout, Iris was near New Asgard, sitting in the very same spot Loki had proposed to her nearly three years ago. A memory full of happiness when Iris didn't have to worry about being a new goddess or having a god as a husband. A god who didn't even bother to tell her, of his plan. A god who often had her sick with worry. Stupid Loki she grumbled to no one in particular. As Iris thoughts began to drift towards her godly husband, who used to tell her things yet ever since they got married. Wondering how they had ended up here and how so much had changed. Because rather then tell her anything he never seemed to want to tell her anything especially things that might worry her. Wishing desperatly for things to change for her not to be here alone while her husband (maybe ex-husband with the rate things are going) continues to fake his death without telling her. Idiot she grumbled again to no one in particular. Yet this time instead of there being quiet Iris felt a touch upon her shoulder. She didn't even turn thinking it was Loki, but was in little mood to deal with him and his games.

"Now you come to apologize?"

"I'm afraid it's not him, but me sister."

Upon hearing the familar voice of Thor, Iris allowed her eyes to look up at the 6'6, towering over Iris's own height by alot. "Norns forbid he come here himself instead he sends you."

"My brother didn't send me here. I came here on my own."

"I see why?"

"The man of Iron kindly informed me of what was happening, and sent me to talk to you while he dealt with..."

"Loki I am guessing.."

"Yes."

"Well hopefully Tony's limbs are still intacted after that."

"Yes, let us hope so. But we aren't here to talk about that but about what's going on between you and my brother."

"Norns forbid Tony stay out of something for once."

"Yes the man of Iron can be quite meddlesome."

"Don't I know it? Remember when Loki and I first started dating?"

"I am surprised my brother didn't stab him even once."

"Through Tony was eitther thrown or daggled."

"Yes, but Loki did let him go."

"Yes he did, but you would never see Loki look so mad," Iris remarked as a small smirk crossed her face remembered it. Back at a time where Loki wasn't worrying her to death.

"Yes indeed. So you want to talk about it or do you want to keep changing the subject?"

"Now you are poking around?"

"Not poking just merely curious to what my brother did now."

"What Mr. Noisy didn't tell you?"

"No, he just said that something happened and I needed to help you."

"And you came?"

"Yes."

"Well since I am sure Mr. Noisy will tell you eventually Loki and I had a fight."

"I know, but aren't you two always fighting?"

"We bicker, but never this bad."

"Ah what did my brother do now?"

"Why do you assume it was him?"

At this Thor gave her are you serious look something she never thought she would see from him of all people. "As much as I love him, my brother can be predictable at times. It usually him who does something. So what did he do now? Did he try to stab you as a snake? Or did he betray you in a very important game? Or perhaps did he roped you into one of his amazing plans," Thor asked before listing off a few more questions before Iris felt a laugh come out of her. My husband ever the drama king she thought warmly before she was reminded that he maybe not be her husband forever. After all she couldn't keep doing this game of his not for the rest of their lives. This thought saddening her, as she listened to the rest of Thor's guesses before she saw a chance to answer.

"You know how he is and how far he can take things."

"Ah my dear brother he faked his death didn't he?"

"I am guessing you guessed from experience?"

"Yes."

"Then why does he keep doing this? Doesn't he know people worry about him?"

"Whose to say. But as you know our father wasn't the kindest to Loki. Something I wish I had seen sooner, but by then it was far to late."

"Yes, everything leads back to Odin."

"Not that I am defending my brother actions, but father does play a factor. All of his life especially after his revelation Loki thought nobody aside from mother and I, would care if he just died. So he being him saw no reason not to do it. And sure it worried us, but it's who he is."

"Yet you still mourned him didn't you?"

"Of course I did he is my brother after all and he means the world to me. As you must know as his wife."

"Maybe ex-wife when all is said and done."

"That bad?"

"When we were dating it was bad, but now that I am a goddess it just hits differently."

"As gods we live far longer then mortals and if our partners die before us that means we have far longer time before we can join them. Then if we were mortals."

"Excatly Loki knows this and yet still he does his shit."

"I know, but that's who he is. He would rather go round and round in circle rather then change it up. Changing my brother takes alot of time, with the walls he built up. After all it took us centuries to get to the point where he doesn't betray me when he sees an opening."

"Yes, but every time I try to knock down the walls he just seems to have new ones built in his place. And he doesn't get how much it worries me."

"Perhaps he does, but he is so focused on not worrying you that he worries you anyway. Remember for as smart as my brother is he isn't use to dealing with matters of the heart."

"Didn't he have partners back in Asgard of both genders?"

"I won't lie and say he didn't have both genders. But most of them were either flings or wanted him for a particular reason."

"I would rather not hear about my husband's exploits before me."

"Not just that through my brother wasn't short of those types."

"Seriously," Iris remarked as she gave Thor a look that very much mirrored her husband's. As Thor let out a hearty chuckle upon seeing this.

"You really are my brother's wife," he remarked with another laugh before he got serious again. "As I was saying people were after Loki for other reasons. After all being courted by a prince of Asgard does have it's perks even if it doesn't work out."

"Oh does it?"

"Yes it does, for example better social placing, more likely to have other offers seeing as they were once with a god, less likely to be messed with amongst other benfits. It's why both of us rarely courted. Loki stuck with his things and I stuck with mine."

"I see."

"Yes, and of course those had it's own consquences again my brother isn't used to being care about especially without the other wanting something more out of him. Especially with the idea of consequences because of his death. As I mentioned before it was only really my mother and I who mourned him."

"The asgards didn't like him," Iris asked her voice getting smaller at the thought of no one else caring about her husband.

"Whose to say nobody would dare say it out loud, not with Odin around."

"Why?"

"Who to say maybe out of fear or maybe not wanting to show they favored Loki over me."

"And you didn't mind."

"Honestly no. My brother is a good man at least when he isn't..."

"Faking his death, being a drama king, or being a little pain in the ass."

"Excatly."

"But we love him don't we?'

"That we do."

"It's just it's tough sometimes worrying whether he is dead or if one of his enemies finally somehow got the best of him."

At this Thor gave Iris a gentle pat on the back. "I know, I know, it's why Jane and I broke up all those years ago. I was worried that one day one of my enemies might get to her before I can. And it drove a wedge between us and by the time I saw it was far too late."

"All those years ago didn't you just break up recently?"

"Did we?"

"Yes, remember you two have a brief something at mine and Loki's anniversary. But I believe you got to be too busy with New Asgard plus other issues don't you remember?"

"You know how my memory is?"

"Okay whatever you say. But do you honestly think what will happen with Loki and me," Iris asked a little suspicious of Thor. Yet waving it off because there was no way Loki could be there right?

"I am not as all seeing as my mother is. And with father health...," Thor started.

"Odin still not getting better?"

"Mother fears for the worst. He is getting worse with passing day, he was honestly barely there at the wedding. But we aren't here to talk about that."

"I know it's just sometimes I miss just being a god's girlfriend and not having to worry abou the whole living well past anyone else can even dream on. It's rough on my marriage as you can tell."

"I can see sister but honestly you shouldn't be talking to me about this."

"Who else would I talk to last I checked my husband isn't even here to talk."

It was at this moment, she spotted Thor, who quickly walked away at the sight likely knowing what will happened. It was this that got Iris to think that this would be impossible seeing as magic wasn't Thor speciality which could only mean if she wasn't talking to Thor, but her husband. "Husband change now," she commanded and with that the Thor who had at one time been sitting next to her glowed in a magic green before turning into her husband. "I thought I left you tied up."

"Well after Stark finally managed to find something to set me free, and I questioned Strange of your location. After much annoyance on my part, he told me where you were."

"And pretending to be Thor?"

"You were clearly in no mood to see me much less talk to me. So I thought you would prefer my brother on this matter."

"Seriously?"

"Deadly."

"So all of this time it was you?"

"Yes."

"I should've known it was right in front of me, I was such an idiot."

"My darling you are no idiot, I was just better this time."

"Seriously must you with the pet names? I am trying to be angry with you."

"Maybe that's why I am doing it," Loki remarked with a smile.

"Seriously it explains everything especially why you didn't know about Thor and Jane, and you went a little too much into depth of your past partners. Thor wouldn't just release your sex life."

"Yes, it's not in my brother nature to do so."

"Clearly so where do we go from here? Because I can't keep doing this game of ours where you don't tell me things."

At this Loki took Iris's head and placed it in the crook of his neck. "All I know is that I don't want this to end darling."

"Nor do I, but Loki this isn't healthy. I can't keep forgiving you and you keep breaking promises."

"I know, and as much as I would like to say I won't do this again. It would be a lie."

"If you can't keep then maybe we shouldn't be together. If you feel that you should keep things from me. Than maybe it would be better if you didn't have to anymore," Iris said a said note in her voice. As she was about to stand up when Loki grabbed her arm.

"I'm not letting that happen. While I can't say it will be easy or I won't lie it's in my nature after all, but I can try. Just please let me try please love just this once," Loki begged his eye flickering to her with a scared look.

"I've heard you say that alot, how do I know this won't be like what you've said to other?"

"Because you are different."

"Different?"

"So different just please can we just try. I'll try to talk better."

"And what else," Iris asked her arms crossed against her chest.

"What else is there?"

"I don't know maybe you warn me next time you are thinking of faking your death."

"But what if someone gets to you before I do?"

"They won't."

"But what if they do?"

"You do know what I am the goddess of right?"

"Yes, but say they get past you."

"Then I will claim that you are dead or fake my own death. Now whose worried?"

"Must you tease me right now wife?"

"Yes, I must," Iris remarked with a slow smirk crossing her face.

"There is my wife."

"Here she is."

"I'll try to give you some heads up next time."

"Or you could always not wait around as long. Or maybe not fake your death?"

"Do you honestly think that won't ever happen it's me," Loki said as he directed his fingers towards him.

"Yeah even I know that's a little too much."

At this Loki let out an amused chuckle before he got serious again. "I'm sorry I've been so distant lately it's just I worry sometimes."

"I know you do and so do I just can we try to talk this out or at least try?"

"I suppose we can."

"Good that's all I am asking," Iris said before tucking her head back into the crook of Loki's neck.

"Want to go home now?"

"Can we wait just for a little, I would like some time to ourselves before Mr. Noisy finds out."

"I can't say I blame you. Now this didn't turn out to be that of a surprise after all."

Upon hearing this Iris let out a mencing glare towards her husband. "Seriously?"

"Too soon."

"Yes."

"Another time?"

"You know I expect my next surprise to be better."

"What would you rather have me be tied up fit for you to unwrap."

"Maybe."

"My wife."

"My husband."

"I suppose I can see to your other surprise, but later."

"Yes, later."

"Right now I just want to be here with you. For you are better then any surprise I can ever give or get."

"Such the romantic my husband."

"You know you love me."

"Yes despite your surprises."

"Especially because of my surprises."

"Shut up."

"Make me," Loki said with smile and it was not long after that Iris gave Loki her own surprise of her lips on his. This suprise being far happier then the one before. Through this wouldn't be the first surprise for over the years the two had many more suprises for one another some living and some not. But none of those matter for as long as they had each other it was better then any suprise any of them could dream of and that was all that mattered.

A/N: Man those get to me every single time no matter what happens. But it needed to happen and was worth it. Now in regards to Odin. You all can decide his fate through I will say if Odin did pass, Thor would likely decline the throne. He only took it because he didn't want Loki to handle it all alone with Frigga dealing with Odin. So the throne would pass to Loki as he and Iris would move to New Asgard and manage that. Going to the avengers to visit or breaks. As for if they have children or not that is up to you all I would like to think they adopt at least one kid but treat him way better then Odin did to Loki. So yeah that is what happens after this. Now I have at least two more chapters set to release soon. So you have that to look forward, but other than that see you. If I don’t update within a week assume I have either passed from this world or am grounded. Either way I hope you all enjoyed this work and all the other one shots that came before it, even if I am not living.

@queen-paladin @smolvenger @mochie85 @eleniblue @chantsdemarins @muddyorbsblr @mcufan72 @lokisbirdofhermes @lokisprettygirl @five-miles-over

#angst with happy ending #Loki x oc #loki friggason #making up #bickering couple #goddess reader

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villainup · 1 month

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The Choice

It is common knowledge. Everyone knows that the recipe to disaster is arrogance topped with ego with a side of overconfidence. But for her, this knowledge is not much common.

Otherwise, I do not personally think that anyone would themselves go into the dragon's lair and be so confident that they are going to bring its head. And when I say I do not personally think, let me tell you, my personal opinion always results in correct.

Who does she think she is? Going inside the lair with a teeny-tiny sword? What? No warrior has ever been able to do that. And she, a teenage girl, thinks that she would be able to do that.

She hasn't even had a coming-of-age ceremony yet. And with this, it makes me wonder, why do these pesky beings call themselves nobility and host such extravagant ceremonies just because they're a year closer to death?

But these parties always have been easy on my eyes. These women always wear such heavy dresses, but let me tell you, these look very pretty. But it's my personal opinion, and remember, my personal opinion always results in correct. Anyways, not veering off the topic, like I have been doing so, let me introduce to you, that girl, the HER I am talking about. She is Edna, E-D-N-A. I wonder who gave her such a dark name, seems like her parents were psychopaths, to give their child such a name.

But yes, she doesn't really have that unloving kind of family, that they would just do something like that to her. Well, what even are names, they are just random noises we call people with. So that doesn't always matter.Now that may make you wonder, why am I even talking about her?

Well, she's a bit of eccentric, you know. She has a loving family, but is unfortunately sold off. I don't understand this. These imbecile human beings buy each other like things. And here I thought that many like me would give me more company. Seems like that company would be of a buyer and a seller.

Why was she sold off? Yes, that's a question many might think right now. And it's just very basic. Like any other noble woman. Her family got into a debt. They couldn't really pay anything with their money or anything like that. And they just did what any noble would do. Sold their daughter. I wish they would do the same to their sons. At least that would make it a more balanced society.

And like any other story you might have, she was sold off to a black-haired, red-eyed, pale and tall handsome man. Many might reach out for possibilities that he is going to soon become a loving puppy husband. And then he'll make her family pay the prices of selling their lovely daughter to just any nobleman.

What is really irksome in this perfectly flowing historical romance story is that it is not much of a romance story right now.That stupid little girl could have just let it be and acted as she usually does. But no, she had to ruin the flow of the story.

Well, it's getting interesting. So I'm not really very sad about this. It just makes me feel bad that things are veering off from how I intended to make them.

Let's come back to Edna. Why did she have to take a legit sword with her, which is layered with poison, to the nobleman's house? I don't really think that is a normal behavior for any noblewoman to take a sword which is marinated in god knows which poison to their husband's house all the while in a ball gown.

To know the peculiar reason you must go back in time. But since i feel like being nice today, I will take the liberty to guide you.

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dark-magical-ships · 11 months

Text

Exodia, Obliterate the Fourth Wall!

Chapter Nineteen

November 26, 2009

Uugggghhhh. Hello, diary. Guess what today is?

I guess it might not be the most obvious thing in the world since for some dumb reason I haven’t been adding the days of the week to these entries (should I start doing that? …Meh). So I’ll just go ahead and say it: today is Thanksgiving.

I hate Thanksgiving.

I mean, the holiday itself is… fine, I guess? Although every year I get more baffled as to why we celebrate some feast that happened hundreds of years ago and ended up leading to all the fucked-up stuff our country did in the name of expansion. It’s nice to have the long weekend, though, and teachers usually don’t even assign homework—by some miracle, none of my teachers added anything extra this weekend. Anyway. Point is, it’s not the holiday itself that bothers me. It’s how we celebrate it: with giant fucking family gatherings.

My half sister hosts these, and we’re basically the only people from her side of her marriage there; everyone else is strangers from her husband’s side, and there’s like. A million of them. SO MANY PEOPLE and it’s always really loud, and if you get up to grab a plate you might as well count on needing to find a new seat, and I don’t know ANYONE there but apparently this is ONLY a problem for me because everyone else either knows people or has the magic secret for conversing with complete strangers, and just…. Ugh. I’d rather take an all-day Physics class, is what I’m saying.

Anyway. I’m up a little earlier than I planned today because I guess I forgot to tell Seto today’s a major holiday and school is closed for the day. I was dreaming about something stupid (flying around a grocery store, I think???) when his voice just sort of… thundered overhead and spooked me awake, like,

«I thought you said you barely ever skip school?»

And cue me waking up just as I punched the wall beside my bed, which. Ow. I mean it wasn’t that bad a punch or whatever but… still. Rude. I sat up with my heart pounding out of my chest rubbing my knuckles and checked the clock. 8:08 AM; usual time for CompSci and around the time Seto usually checks in on me, and for half a second I panicked again because I thought I’d overslept. Waking up in a panic is the worst fucking start to a day, I swear. I snatched up my phone as I threw off the blankets, and it was then that I saw the iCal notification on it: 3PM - Thanksgiving @ Amber’s. I groaned and flopped back on the bed, dropping my phone back on my chest as I rubbed my hands over my face.

«Good morning to you, too. I’m not skipping, school’s just out for the weekend. Major holiday in the States.»

«Ah.» Seto paused for a moment, then observed, «You don’t seem very pleased about getting a long weekend.»

I rolled my eyes. «Yeah, well, you did scare me half to death.»

«My apologies,» he deadpanned. I snorted.

«Anyway, it’s not really like I get today off. School’s out, but I have family crap today.»

I figured fuck it, I was awake so I might as well get up and try to cram in something halfway-enjoyable before I have to go to Amber’s place and brave the horde. Seto didn’t ask for details, but he stuck around for a bit anyway while I messed with my laptop. I wasn’t sure why, until he spoke up again a few minutes later.

«That… sounds unpleasant.»

«What does?»

«Everything you and your scatterbrain keep wandering back to.»

Sometimes I really wish I knew how he always seems to be able to keep his idle thoughts to himself, while I apparently project them to him at random. He wasn’t wrong; I’d been looking for something to do but the thought of tonight's “dinner” at my sister’s place kept coming back, carrying doom right along with it. How much of it had he picked up? I sighed.

«Sorry, I’ll try to… rein it in. I just… hate these gatherings. Too many people.»

«It’s fine,» he said dismissively. «Bring your deck when you go.»

«Nobody there duels.»

«We do.»

Yes, I tried to ask what he meant, but as usual, he had fucked off without a word of farewell and now he won’t answer me. Typical.

What the hell, a deck of cards is pretty portable. I’ll bring the damn thing; maybe whatever he’s on about will be worth it.

Two entries in one day? What is this madness? Pffft.

If there’s one good thing to be said about my sister’s giant family events, it’s that they never run too late into the night. Home already and it’s only like 8:30 PM. Anyway.

I was right to bring my deck—or, I guess, he was right to suggest it. We got to Amber’s place at around 3 PM and I endured maybe 45 minutes of near-panic before I heard Seto’s voice again. And…. Listen, diary, between you and me? At that moment, hearing his voice was like a breath of fresh air when you’ve been marinating in an overheated room with no windows for a few hours. The buzz of all those voices, almost all of them strangers, layered over each other until I couldn’t understand anyone even if I’d been trying to, my head pounding as I picked at appetizers I had no interest in just to look busy…. And then there he was, a familiar voice as clear as a bell, without the echo from the vaulted ceilings or anything to muddle it:

«Too soon to slip out?»

I excused myself from the table under the pretense of a run to the bathroom and locked myself into the blessed privacy of my sister’s powder room. I couldn’t stay in there long, not with maybe three bathrooms in the whole house to accommodate what must be thirty or forty people, but I could at least answer Seto from there.

«Are you kidding? I’m required to show up, but nobody here is going to care if I vanish, at least not until most of these people leave in a few hours. The hard part is figuring out where to hide.»

«Do you know the layout of the house?»

«Not… well.» I don’t visit sis much. She’s twelve years older than me, married, religious and weird about it, and wants to have kids soon; we don’t have much in common. I thought over what parts of the house I do know: the living area and dining area where the horde was, the yard and patio that were drenched in rain and separated from the horde by nothing more than a glass door so I’d be obvious to anyone who looked, the bathroom where I was at that moment, and the garage where Angel did some work on my car back when I first got it….

«That last room. A garage? I doubt people will look for you there.»

«Yeah… but I’d bet you anything Blue’s down there. He’s a sweet dog, but he probably won’t leave me alone and let me play card games.»

«Between an overly-friendly dog and a group of distant relatives you refer to as “the horde,” you’re telling me you’d prefer the horde?»

Good point. I left the bathroom as discretely as possible and escaped on tiptoe through the side door into my brother-in-law’s garage.

After the noise of the house full of stranger danger, the electric buzz of the garage lighting was the second-best thing I’d heard all friggin day. I looked around for Blue, but… no dog. Whiiiiiich is when I remembered Amber said something about having crate-trained him over the summer after he got into something last Christmas. Soooo yeah, I’m pretty glad Seto didn’t take the “bet you anything” seriously. Anyway.

Angel doesn’t exactly kit his garage out for entertaining, but luckily most people use the garage for storage as well as any work involving power tools. Even more lucky, Angel keeps his garage pretty neat and tidy, unlike dad’s Tool Shed of Doom. It didn’t take too long to find the folded card table and chairs that sis breaks out for smaller Fourth of July parties leaning up against the wall, stashed behind an unsafe-looking old elliptical machine. I dragged them out, set up the table and a chair—facing the door so no one could sneak up on me—and dug my cards out of my bag.

Understand, my hands were still shaking with adrenaline and my mind was still pretty scattered. I was trying to focus on setting up the table or shuffling my cards, but random snippets of thought kept chasing each other around my head. It was distracting; I pinched my thumb in a table leg, I dropped cards like three or four times on that first shuffle. What I’m saying is, I was not in top form for that first match, so it didn’t surprise me at all when I lost in like three turns. The second game wasn’t much better, and neither was the third; I kept misplaying badly or misreading cards—even ones I was familiar with. Seto being Seto, he never let a mistake go unpunished. I was obliterated again and again; I don’t think I’ve been so soundly thrashed in a game of yugioh since I was like eight and it was my brother’s turn to pretend to be Yugi while I was stuck playing “Weevil.”

But somewhere in the middle of game three—or maybe four?—I realized I wasn’t feeling my heartbeat in my fingertips so much. My skin wasn’t crawling with the sense of a hundred eyes on me anymore, and I was breathing a lot easier. My back was to a wall, and the only voice I could hear in that garage was a friendly one… such as he is, anyway. The anxiety that always overtakes me when I’m surrounded like that had faded, and left behind a relief that felt a whole lot better—but was just as effective at derailing my brain.

This, at least, is the excuse I have come up with, and will be sticking to, to explain what I accidentally said as I was shuffling my cards after… however long had passed by that point. I don’t know, I wasn’t looking at a clock. Anyway, I cringe to think on it now but what happened was, I was prepping for the next game to start, and some traitor part of my brain acted without checking with me first and just threw my unexamined thoughts at that moment in Seto’s general direction:

«Y’know, I dunno why you’re free to play this much so early today, but for once I’m really glad you’re here. Thank you for saving me from the horde.»

As soon as I realized I’d “said” that instead of keeping it quietly to myself, I froze…. But Seto just scoffed a bit like I’d made a dumb joke.

«Dueling seemed like a good way to pass the time. Saving you from the horde was the important part.»

I blinked. «What?»

«Loser plays first; your move.»

I swore and—very carefully—finished shuffling, drew five cards to start my turn, and tried to talk to him while planning my move at the same time. «Set Dust Tornado and activate Terraforming to… Seto, are you telling me you’re free right now because you took time off on purpose?»

«Thanks for revealing your trap card, I’ll be sure to play around it. My turn.» Dammit. He set two cards and a monster, and I thought he wouldn’t answer me until he added, «Corporate presidents are rarely off in the middle of the day by accident, Amy. Enter End Phase.»

«Because I was worried about tonight?»

«No, I was seized by sudden enthusiasm for the American holiday of Thanksgiving.»

Thaaaat was more like him. His sarcasm somehow made the whole conversation feel more normal, though… I guess just because it’s… y’know. Just how he is. I snorted; he sighed.

«You want to talk, Amy? Talk while you play. End Phase; your move.»

Okaaaay, well, that’s better than just refusing to talk to me. He’d almost even admitted he went out of his way to do something nice for once, sort of. I played. And between calling our plays and the phases of our turns, we had what I think is like our first actual, normal conversation? Or part of one, anyway. I dunno, I don’t usually spend my card games chatting. But then, I also don’t usually play for this long in one sitting.

«I don’t get it. Why help me?»

«Seemed like you needed it.»

«Seto…»

The image of his field fizzled out for a second as he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. «Look, Amy. I thought I was holding up my end of the deal by helping with your studies and nothing more, but I was overlooking something that you pointed out recently.»

«Which was?»

«That like it or not, neither of us are on our own anymore. For now. Acting like we are has only been causing headaches for both of us.»

We passed a few rounds just exchanging plays after that. I didn’t really know what to make of what he’d said, honestly…. Like, as far as I know, Seto’s pretty much always been on his own, aside from his brother. Not necessarily because he didn’t have people who were willing to be there for him—hell, Yugi and his friends saved his ass at least twice. But because he wouldn’t let anyone close. He’s capable of working as a team when he has to—witness his tag match alongside the pharaoh and the entire Waking the Dragons arc—but like. He just doesn’t do close relationships—and doesn’t seem to need them, except where Mokuba’s concerned. If there’s any relationship, any person in the world that this guy cares about, it’s his little brother. Everyone and everything else comes second to him in Seto’s mind, and putting Mokuba in danger is a great way to force Seto to do almost anything. It’s a relationship I wish I could say I have with my own brother, but… well. Life hasn’t worked out that way.

And as for me? I’m in no position to be judging Seto Kaiba, of all people, for keeping people at arm’s length. If anything, he has even more cause than I do.

I don’t know how much, if any, of that train of thought got through to him. I’m guessing he picked up a little of it, because he didn’t bother me to make my plays more quickly when I was lost in thought, nor did he ask pressing questions or elaborate more on his own point. He just let me process in peace.

«Well, then,» I ventured finally, «thank you again. For trying to meet me halfway.»

Seto grunted a wordless acknowledgment as he wrapped up his turn. It would be his last turn for the current game—that game was my first victory of the night.

Aside from talk directly related to the game, he didn’t speak again until an hour or two later, when a lucky draw helped me snatch victory right from the jaws of his Ultimate Dragon. It was while I was laughing about it, shuffling my deck before game Who-Even-Knows-Anymore for the night, that he caught me by surprise with a question: «Did you mean it, when you said you were glad I’m here?»

«Huh?»

«I answered your questions.»

«Sorry, Seto, I just….» Just didn’t see that fucking question coming from you. Why did he care? And why oh why did that have to slip out? «Just distracted. Of course I meant it, dude, you rescued me from the hellhole of my sister’s Thanksgiving, why wouldn’t I be glad you showed up?»

«Hmm.» Seto made no further reply than that, and I didn’t ask him to.

The truth is, as much of a killjoy as the guy can be… yeah, I’m really glad he was there today. Frankly, this is probably one of the best Thanksgivings I’ve had since my sister got married when I was twelve. Maybe Seto’s a workaholic with no concept of fun and can be a rude asshole at times, but when he’s being civil he’s almost even enjoyable to hang out with. Who knows… maybe, given tonight…. Maybe we might be friends someday, after all?

I dunno, diary. But some part of me hopes so. The rest of me hopes that she’s right… and doesn’t want to think about what happens when he’s gone for good.

#exodia obliterate the 4th wall!#amy writes #chapter 19

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the-land-of-eternal-winter-novel · 2 years

Text

Chapter 6 — The Struggle to Forgive

Both Anatoliy and Radek rushed back to the capital when they learnt the horrifying news. A funeral was to be held as soon as the two arrived. When Ingrid heard about what happened, she decided it was time she finally came home.

She still couldn’t believe what her husband had done, and she still couldn’t stop thinking about how everything was his fault. However, she couldn’t help but feel guilty that she cared more about her ruined reputation than the fact that a man just died. Then again, what was she to feel? What did she have except a reputation? She didn’t truly even have that, to be clear; she only strived to make a good impression, so as to compensate for the years of insults, judgment, comparison, disrespect and torment she was made to endure by her own mother. It was enough that she had been called an idiot for however long she lived, it was enough that she was treated like a helpless child, and prevented from living a normal life, now she had to be known as the wife of a murderer!

Her mother opposed their marriage from the very beginning, but not out of any reasonable concern, but out of sheer spite, as Ingrid interpreted it. Her mother had wished her to never marry at all, believing her to be completely inept, nor had she allowed her to do any other normal activity which her sisters had the privilege of indulging in. Instead, she sat in her room, bored to death for almost two decades. That would only contribute to making her stupid, Ingrid thought to herself. She did study, though, but privately, secretly even. It was as if her mother wished to hide her very existence, thought which burdened her soul every time she allowed herself to think of her. Mockingly, she thought: why should she even be mad at Anatoliy for having murdered somebody who was but a mere stranger to her, and whose absence caused her no harm, when she had a real reason to feel resentment, because of the endless torment her mother subjected her to, killing her every day with only words. She stopped herself from thinking about it, since she felt disgustingly selfish. Objectively, murder is worse... Or is it? Would such mental torture not be considered killing somebody as well? Sure enough, they are physically present, but is their soul not wounded beyond repair? Is there such a thing as beyond repair? What is a dead soul? Does it turn one into a remorseless beast or into a burdened melancholic? Did she not start feeling alive after she ran away from her tormentor?

She continued to wonder: how do you measure degrees of evil and how do you know what kind of soul one has? What kind did she have? It was wounded, that much is true... She wanted to say that she was a good person, but she began to feel the statement untrue. She could certainly pinpoint what an evil person looked like, couldn’t she? After all, she grew up with a horrible mother, who was her personal standard of evil, when she felt the need to make comparisons. Well, evil doesn’t only lie in the actions, but also the attitudes and motivations, which is why she viewed her mother as such, as she had no reason to treat her the way she did, except for the fact that she didn’t live up to her impossible standards. How can you hate your own child? Often she read about menacing step mothers, but never could she imagine that a parent could ever feel anything other than love for their child, regardless of any flaws. Ingrid held her baby a little tighter. She indeed hoped that he wouldn’t have any physical or mental conditions, but she would never imagine being ashamed of her child. She began to pride herself in being a good mother, then she reflected again and thought she was only doing what any parent was supposed to do.

She returned to her previous thought, trying to come to a reasonable definition of evil, but she couldn’t get past her personal bias. She knew that she was wrong, but she couldn’t help but feel that her suffering was greater, and her abusive mother was worse than a killer. She had her ways of justifying her stance, of course, but she knew anybody else would be appalled to hear her thoughts. Then she inevitably thought about Anatoliy. Nobody could deny the gravity of his deed, but at least he had an understandable motivation. She didn’t want to justify him, but she didn’t want to let herself hate him. After all, there was only one thing she was supposed to forgive him for: the ruining of her reputation. One can only forgive the wrong done unto them, not unto others. She would say that the other, bigger issue was between him and God, and between him and the late king’s sons. That sounded very spiritual to her, and, despite the statement being true, it was at least in part used as a justification to only think about how she indirectly suffered because of her husband’s evil deed.

Did she truly believe in forgiveness, though? What does „forgivable” even mean? In her case, she got used to calling her mother’s treatment of her unforgivable, and, indeed, she began hating her, refusing to even approach her. However, she seemed more inclined to forgive her husband, despite his actions being worse, from anybody else’s perspective other than hers. She wondered if she wasn’t able to think objectively, but only by comparison. Then, she realised her hypocrisy: if she deemed her mother unforgivable and felt totally justified in doing so, then perhaps Kęstas deemed Anatoliy unforgivable, he would also be justified, but she didn’t agree with that. Surely if everyone acted like her, no conflicts would be solved, only grudges hold.

She couldn’t suddenly decide to forgive her mother, however. She did want to forgive Anatoliy, because they had a beautiful relationship before the whole chaos, but she seemed to confuse forgiveness with acknowledging as not guilty. After all, degrees of guilt don’t matter, because degrees of forgiveness don’t exist: you either do or don’t.

Of course, if she ignored the invading stream of thought, she realised that she was also mad at Anatoliy. As much as she hated her mother and as much as she loved her husband, she couldn’t deny that she was appalled to learn what he did. Murder is indeed repulsive, she said to herself in order to convince herself that she also cared about the objective morality of things, not only her personal grievances. She had never been so shocked by anything that happened in her life. Although she knew about her husband’s obsession with conspiracies, she didn’t expect him to act upon his desire for revenge, disguised as justice. She, admittedly, even felt scared by him, wondering whether he would ever hurt her if she upset him enough.

For this reason, she felt justified in running away from him, especially considering that getting into an abusive situation for the second time in her life was the one thing she wanted to avoid. This was propably the only reason when comparison to her mother helped, as she realised that he never wanted to harm her, nor would he have done it in the future. Actually, the fact that he loved his family was exactly the reason he wanted revenge in the first place. There was not a single instance in which he had treated her poorly, and, during the few months since Oleg was born, he seemed like a good father. When she became convinced that their relationship was, indeed, good, she began to worry about her reputation. Her mother had already caused her grief for having married Anatoliy, suggesting that they were both mentally unfit for anything, much less marriage, and that her child will probably be „defective”. Now that her husband did do something ostensibly wrong, her mother felt so justified in her opinion that he was insane all along that she disowned her daughter publicly. Of course, Anatoliy had also been stripped of his royal titles as a result of his actions, so now they didn’t have anything left except their house. In the days immediately following the catastrophe, she felt like she hated him, because he ruined her life, but in the time she got to spend alone, she realised that it wasn’t true...

All three of them reached home relatively soon, and the panic that ensued was uncontrolable. Radek immediately lashed out at Anatoliy.

"What have you done?!"

"What do you mean? Do you think it's my fault Sveta died? You know I was away from home, and I didn't learn the news until now! I would never hurt my own sister!!!"

Anatoliy reacted panickedly to every word of his brother-in-law, and as despair overcame him, he began to cry.

"...I know you wouldn't." he sighed as he came to his senses. "But I wouldn't put it behind your uncle to try to usurp the throne. Or maybe he's lying to us..."

"Now you're the one with the conspiracy theories?..."

Not dignifying him with a response, he instead asked about his search.

"I found Kęstas. He almost killed me..."

Feeling his head hurt, Radek didn't continue the conversation. He refused to believe that what had happened was actually true. He now even prefered to creep into the mentality of a conspirationist, as Anatoliy mocked, than accept that he had lost everything in less than a year. To keep himself from thinking, he sought fights with the others. One time he confronted Grigoriy.

"Do you think I would murder my own niece? And her children?!"

"You'd have a motive, seeking the throne."

"Disregard me if you will, but know I am not as vile as you make me out to be."

"Then maybe you are lying."

"About what?"

"About everything. As you always do."

"Go to bed, Radimir. You're too tired."

The following day was the funeral. Ingrid had returned, but she didn't speak to her husband yet. Radek, as much as we wished to deny everything, was forced to face the fact that he had indeed lost everything. He refused to interact with any other person present, and, instead, he went straight to his room the moment the service ended. He locked the door behind him and he fell on his knees, his head and hands burried in the blankets of the bed.

He started crying desperately, grabbing onto the edge of the vad as if he were about to fall. Feeling hopeless, he starting praying, at first in a whisper, then slightly aloud.

"Why did all of this happen to me, Lord?! I have always followed Your Way as closely as I could. And if I were to have done something wrong, let me be punished, not my children and my wife! I may have failed many times, but there is nobody I know more faithful and kind than her. The children I tried my best to raise well. If vile men gathered to end those innocent lives, why were they not punished? And why let treason amid our family?"

In between each pause he sobbed.

"Lord, I only just lost my step-father. I was this close to getting to call him 'dad', I almost ended all conflicts with him. I know I was wrong in my attitude towards him, and how do I regret it! I wish I had more time! Then I could've treated him like a proper father. You know I did respect him, and I did love him... I wish our last conversation hadn't been a fight... This is the second time I lose a father..."

"I know I should forgive Anatoliy, but I can't! It's his fault all of this happened! If only he had listened to me, he wouldn't have gone through with it... Forgive me for keeping so much anger in my heart... but I can't help but be apalled. How can I not, when he has commited such an evil? How can I not also wish for justice? ...I can't forgive him, Lord! At least not now!

..."

"Give me some time to grieve, I've suffered so much already! My father died when I was a child... You gave me a wonderful step-father, but I shunned him until it was too late!.. I've moved homes so many times I feel like a stranger wherever I go. And a stranger I was, rejected by everybody. I forgot that while with my beautiful family... Even that is gone forever, too. Division... Death... I had nothing, then I had everything, then I lost it again... Lord, why do I have to suffer like this? All I wanted was to live a good life... And to have a family... All I ever wanted from life was peace!!!"

He burst into tears, crying bitterly and inconsolably. He remained like that for a time, feeling like his life was ending. However, after having cried his heart out, he remembered that he still had a Father in Heaven, and he suddenly felt comforted. He tried to think about what to do next, then, after letting his mind wander a little, thinking how ironic it was that the only family he had left was his criminal brother-in-law, he concluded his prayer.

"Forgive me, Lord, for hating Anatoliy in my heart... Please help me forgive him! ... And please have mercy on his soul..."

#the land of eternal winter #my novel #draft 1 #chapter 6

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