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partlystiles · 1 year

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Hey uhh. Can you make a part 2 of Barty and reader talking about their dads but this time they meet in the future and hoe reader died? I sort of need some angst

PT 1

barty crouch jr x fem!reader

summary: a run-in with a relative of someone from his past makes Barty's head turn.

Warnings: swearing, use of alcohol, mentions of death.

sorry it's been a while!

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

My dearest Barty,

Enclosed in this letter is an Occamy feather for you! You better like it because I nearly died getting it for you, I had to resort to the mating dance and screeching loudly so it wouldn't attack. They are very aggressive and protective over their eggs, just like I knew but I can't believe I managed to tame one.

Of course I didn't manage to get an egg, but I have a drawing of it in my case that I will bring back to you and tell you all about.

India is so much fun! I've learned Bollywood dancing, visited a lot of the temples, trekked in the Himalayans to get to the Occamy of course. I even came during Diwali and everything is so beautiful!

I wish you were here with me. You'd love the dancing, even if you think you wouldn't, I know it. I'll be home soon, happily back with you. Little Elijah or Eleanor, whichever one it is, has been kicking for their daddy. Misses you almost as much as I do.

I know you had your doubts about me going to India whilst five months pregnant but I've run into no trouble whatsoever, just a little kick here and there but you were there for the first one. It should be about 4 more days until I'm back and I'm so excited!

I'm hoping that everything is okay back home. I know there's been more recent disappearances, even Regulus Black. Poor boy. He was so nice to me, I can't imagine how his brother is feeling. As long as you're safe then I'm happy, very happy.

Four months until our baby comes into the world!

Boat is boarding soon, so I'll go post this letter now. I love you so much! See you soon.

Y/N x

Bartemius Crouch read the letter over and over again. And then again. Until he felt numb inside, numb all over until somebody had to physically force him out of his chair, let alone out of his house. His heart was shattered, crawling back together to try and attach itself again, but it didn't work. Everything just crumpled again, crumpled like the letter in Barty's hand that was stained with blood, tears and sweat.

Multiple times it had been fished out of the garbage, multiple times he had tried to smooth all of the wrinkles back out of the paper so he could read it one more time. Multiple times he had been on the verge of incinerating every inky last word...but he never did. Because he could never ever get rid of her, the thought of her, the knowledge of her. Her and his baby who was never ever birthed.

Little Elijah or Eleanor never met their daddy and their daddy never got to look into the eyes of his child and softly rock them from side to side whilst singing them to sleep. It was a loss greater than anything, but nothing will ever be greater than the loss of his wife. His sun, his moon, his eclipse. Without her, his nights were darkened, his days were lost and Bartemius Crouch Junior withered away in his grand house, wishing his love was still in his arms.

However, a knock at the door interrupted his nightmare of a daydream. A grunt escaped his lips at the sound of it, his hand's grip on his glass of alcohol tightening at the rim as his other hand wiped at his spiked stubble around his chin in an uninterested gleam.

"Go away." Barty raised his voice a little, stumbling up from his dishevelled armchair and letting the rest of the letter from his wife's travel that sat on his lap fall to the wooden floor below him. "No one's home."

As he tried to stumble away again, tipping the last of the alcohol down his throat, he heard his door open anyway. Despite the obvious want of not having someone with him at that current time, he could hear footsteps behind him, entering the grand room with an air of purpose and especially an air of arrogance.

"I said GO AWAY." Barty swivelled around, chucking his glass at the doorway that the person was stood in. They didn't flinch at all, but the glass smashed above the archway and the shattered pieces fell down to the floor. "Fucking...fuckin bitch. Fuckin leave."

"Mr. Crouch, please." The man in the doorway removed his hat from his head, holding it in front of him as he watched the broken man trip around his drawing room, walking to his fireplace. "I'm here to talk about my daughter. I believe you knew her. Her name was Y/N."

At once, Barty paused in his place beside the fireplace, his hand grappled on the mantelpiece as his eyes narrowed into fierce slits at the mention of the name. The man grunted drunkenly again, shaking his head as his hands slapped against the mantelpiece multiple times before he decided to hit his head instead.

"Don't..." He drawled, his voice like gravel scraping against his vocal chords before he looked at the man in the doorway. The man had a shadow cast over his face but the firelight highlighting his nose told Barty that he was a spitting image of his dear Y/N. "Don't act like you fuckin' cared about...about her. I know what you did."

"I-I didn't do anything. My girl ran away when she was 17...I've been trying to find her for years. They led me here."

"Well, you're about a year too late, old man." Barty chuckled darkly, pushing himself away from the fireplace to swipe his bottle of alcohol off of his coffee table, pouring a hefty bit into a new glass. "She's dead."

"I was afraid of that." The man sighed, shaking his head and Barty downed about half of his drink before squinting and facing the man again. This time with more suspicion as he began to wring his hat in his hands. "She always was reckless. Running off, wanting to explore the world when I had a perfectly good job lined up for her at the ministry."

"Maybe she didn't want to be a fucking brainless clone." Barty spat, placing his glass down on the table before running his hands through his growing hair and over his face disappointedly. "And why the hell did it take you five fucking years to go looking for her? Ask anyone, it would've led you to me. You wanna fucking know why?"

"I don't-"

"I was the one who convinced her to run away." He whispered comically, pointing to himself with a crazed laugh as his lover's father straightened up a little at the amusement Barty was taking. "Right after I put a ring on her finger, we ran all the way to fucking Glasglow and got married in a stable. How's that for your precious little girl?"

"You drove my daughter away from me!" The man walked towards Barty, who picked up his glass and downed the rest of the alcohol before turning until he was chest to chest with the man. "She could've had a great life. A great job with a great salary and a great husband with a son and a daughter. You took that from her?"

"You drove her away from you yourself!" Barty stumbled more, but poked a finger onto the man's chest anyway, eyeing his own wand on the table just metres away. "It was her dream to travel the world and that's exactly what I...what I let her do, what I encouraged her to do. She was fucking happy, fuckin' joyful. With me. With my child inside of her. But of course you and your fucking ministry can't leave a man alone for two seconds-"

"You see, she was coming home from India, 5 months pregnant with my baby- and she- and she, she was on the same boat as another Death Eater. I didn't even know the guy that well. You ministry Aurors showed up, and she was caught in the crossfire. She died. My baby died. My whole life was ripped away from me because of YOU. YOU AND YOUR FUCKING- YOU'RE FUCKING..."

"Spit it out, son." The ministry worker said, stepping back from the boy as Barty reached into his pocket and yanked out her goodbye letter, crumpling it again in his hand before he looked back at the man, quivering with rage.

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE. GO." He shoved his hands out, hitting the man away from him, but the elder one didn't even budge as Barty's weak drunken form pushed and pushed at the body. "GET OUT. SHE WOULDN'T WANT YOU HERE. LEAVE. Fuckin-"

Bartemius reached his hand out, bending down in his pause from slapping his late wife's father to walk over to the coffee table where his wand sat. He picked up his wand, pointing it at the man in front of him who now did stumble backwards at the sight of the crazed man threatening him with his wand. Although it seemed as though Barty couldn't get a clear shot.

"Avada Kedavra." A blinding flash of light and a thud reverberated around the room as Barty was left alone, stumbling again though he didn't bother to pour himself another drink, he just grabbed the bottle and let it slide down his throat. "Fuckin' bitch, freakin' fucker...

... I want my baby."

#the marauders era #barty crouch jr #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr x reader #barty crouch junior imagine #the marauders x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter

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berystraw · 16 days

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Love Leaves Scars: Plot Twist of the Century

[L.L.S Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [G.H Masterlist]

Warning: Skye is a warning yall

Pairing: Oc!reader x Grayson Hawthorne

W.C: 2.3k

I observe as the sky is bathed in a soft hue of blue, and the sun emerges from its slumber. The sky is adorned with wisps of clouds and the graceful presence of birds, infusing it with vibrant life and color. A gentle, chilly breeze brushes against my skin, causing a light shiver to ripple through me. I draw my blanket closer, taking solace in its warmth, as I savor each sip of the steaming coffee I have brewed. All the while, my gaze remains fixed upon the ever-changing canvas of the sky, as well as the graceful movements of the birds.

"You're awake quite early," I hear Asnid's morning voice raspily remark. "Good morning," I greet her warmly, setting my mug down on the table of the balcony. Asnid settles into the vacant chair opposite me, reaching out to take a sip from my mug. "From what I recall, you're not one to wake up early, Vers," Asnid remarks. "I found it difficult to sleep last night," I confess, my voice tinged with vulnerability. Sleep has evaded me ever since our arrival here, five days ago.

"Is the bed not providing enough comfort?" Asnid inquires, her concern evident. I assure her that the bed is perfectly adequate. It's simply that the memories I have tried desperately to forget persistently haunt me, even within the realm of my dreams. Ever since I turned twelve, I have been unable to dream at all, and I can't even remember the last time I ever did dream. Yet, sleeping within Hawthorne House has reawakened my ability to dream. Alas, these dreams are far from pleasant—they can rather be described as nightmares.

"Are you nervous about the will reading?" Asnid speculates. "Why would I be nervous about something like that? Im sure Tobias Hawthorne included me in that will for one of his games," I reply. But deep down, is that truly the case?

I turn away from Asnid and fix my gaze upon the captivating vista before us. Hawthorne House, perched upon its expansive estate, commands attention. The forest surrounding us sways in unison with the whims of the wind.My eyes remain on the scene, for a moment, I felt a semblance of peace wash over me. A semblance, but not quite complete.

"We should eat breakfast, Verity," Asnid suggests, rising from her seat. Reluctantly, I tear my eyes away from the captivating view, following Asnid downstairs to the dining area. The long table is adorned with an array of breakfast delicacies—varieties of bread, succulent fruits, and a tempting assortment of treats. It is a veritable feast, brimming with flavors that screams sugar rush. "Good morning, Miss Verity and Miss Asnid," one of the maids greets us before departing to the kitchen.

I pull out a chair for Asnid, then take my place beside her. It doesn't take long before the remaining occupants of Hawthorne House begin to trickle into the dining area, joining us for breakfast. However, one person is noticeably absent.

"Where might dearest Grayson be?" Xander inquires, his mouth full of bread. "He left yesterday for some errands and hasn't come back," Nash replies. My eyes meet Nash's, and he raises an eyebrow inquisitively. I simply lower my head, focusing on the food before me. Silence settles upon the room, punctuated only by a small exchange of words.Everything remained silent until...

"I'm home!" a voice rings out, shattering the tranquility.

As Skye Hawthorne enters the dining room, the atmosphere shifts. The three grandchildren momentarily pause their eating before resuming.

"Good morning, boys, did you miss me?" She ask while giving a three of them a half-hearted hugs before her attention turns to me. Her eyes light up, and a sly smirk forms on her lips.

"Verity Rosewood, long time no see, my dear," Skye greets me, approaching with enthusiasm. I rise from my seat and reciprocate the hug she offers. "Oh, how I missed my favorite future daughter-in-law," she remarks, planting a kiss on my cheek. I resume my seat as Skye takes the one beside me.Just great.

Skye then turns her attention to Asnid, "Well, who is this pretty lady over here?" Asnid, taken aback by the question, blushes deeply and introduces herself politely. "I'm Asnid, nice to meet you, Miss Hawthorne," she responds with a sweet smile. Skye attempts to return the gesture, though a fleeting expression of disgust betrays her true feelings. Skye possesses a talent for feigning kindness, concealing her true emotions.

Concerning Grayson's whereabouts, Skye poses the same question she asked her sons earlier. Nash provides the same response he shared with Xander, indicating that Grayson ventured out on errands and has yet to return. Skye then shifts her attention back to me, "How are you, Verity? I've missed you, my dear,"

"I've been doing great, actually," I reply, offering a sweet smile as I continue to enjoy my breakfast. Skye's hand delicately tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear, further blurring the boundaries of comfort. Such a sweet but fake act. "Where is Zara? Shouldn't she be here when the will reading starts?" Skye queries, indulging in bread and fruit as she awaits an answer.

After excusing ourselves from the table to give the Hawthorne family their privacy, Asnid and I walk away, leaving the dining room. I can sense Skye's gaze following us until we leave the room.

"Who is that lady?" Asnid asks once we are out of earshot. I reply, "That's Skye Hawthorne, the second-born daughter of Tobias and the mother of the four grandchildren." Asnid murmurs her suspicion, "She seems like bad news."

"She is, so be careful," I warn her. Asnid nods obediently, understanding the potential dangers. We decide to minimize our interactions with the Hawthornes by staying in our room until the will reading commences.

As I assist Asnid in zipping up her dress, she raises a question. "Do you think the Avery girl has arrived by now?" I consider her inquiry and respond, "If she hasn't, it means we'll be staying here even longer until the next scheduled will reading." Asnid then confides, "I kind of like it here." Our eyes meet in the mirror before us. I cannot deny that I share a similar sentimentI couldn't say that I didn't feel the same. It's hard to enjoy staying in the house that haunts you even in your dreams. It's hard to enjoy staying in the house which makes me remember memories I choose to forget. It's hard to enjoy staying in the house where you met your first love.

"I'm glad you enjoyed your stay here, hon," I offer a small smile, which she reciprocates. Words alone would not suffice to convey the depth of my disdain for this place—the unsettling feelings it evokes, the memories it forces me to confront, and the sight of the man I once loved.

Our attention is diverted to the sound of a knock on the door. "Asnid? Verity? You need to come down now," Nash's voice reaches us from the other side. Asnid responds, "We'll be out in a minute!" She places a hairclip in her hair, and I patiently wait as Nash's footsteps fade away.

"I'm done! Let's go!" Asnid exclaims, grabbing my hand as we make our way down the stairs and into the Great Room. As we enter, the room is already filled with people, although the main event has yet to commence. Oren, Tobias's head bodyguard, stands by the wall, strategically positioned to observe the room's exits. The Laughlin family occupies one side of the room, while Zara and her husband engage in conversation with the lawyers, Grayson at their side. Nan sits at the front right of the room, with Xander irritating her incessantly. Skye occupies a solitary seat, and the remaining Hawthorne boys are seated together.

"Let's sit beside them!" Asnid whispers to me with excitement, suggesting that we sit beside the two unfamiliar girls in the wingback chairs. One of the girls had long brown hair while the other had short blue hair. Eagerly, we take the seats beside them. The girls turn their attention to us as we settle in. Asnid takes the initiative, extending her arm and introducing herself. "Hi! I'm Asnid! What's your name?" she asks cheerfully, and both girls shake her hand. The brunette girl introduces herself as Avery, while the one with blue hair is named Libby.

"Oh! You're the girl mentioned in the will too!" Asnid exclaims, pointing out Avery's connection. Avery nods in acknowledgment. "Do you know why? Were you mentioned too or are you related to these people?" Libby asks. "Honestly we're as confused as you are. I'm not mentioned but Verity is," Asnid says before linking her arm with mine2 and reassures them, "We're not related to the Hawthornes, don't worry." I observe as Libby visibly relaxes. "Finally, someone who isn't 'richy rich'," she exhales, prompting giggles from Asnid.

Deciding to engage in further conversation, Asnid moves to sit beside Libby while Avery takes Asnid's previous seat. A"Were you dragged into this as well?" Avery asks. "Yeah, sort of," I chuckled. "Do you have a history with them?" Avery shoots another question. I hesitated to give her a truthful answer but eventually still did. I nodded my head and told her how I used to play with the four Hawthorne grandchildren when we were young.

Avery responds, "Good for you, because I don't." Tobias Hawthorne you sick old man. "Even in death, he likes to play stupid games," I sigh, expressing my frustration. Avery begins to offer a reply, but her words are cut off by one of the lawyers in the room. "Now that everyone is here, it would be wise to start," the lawyer announces, and the three of them position themselves in a triangle formation, signaling the beginning of the proceedings.

The lawyer, whom I recognize as Alisa's father, begins by stating that we are gathered to hear the last will and testament of Tobias Tattersall Hawthorne. He explains that per Mr. Hawthorne's instructions, his colleagues will now distribute letters that he had left for each of us. The other lawyers begin to walk around the room, handing out the assigned letters to each person.

I receive my letter, and I notice that Avery has received hers as well. From the corner of my eye, I see Asnid staring at me with a worried expression. I turn to her and offer an assuring smile. I mouth the words "I'm fine" to her, and she nods, redirecting her attention back to the lawyers. "You may read the letters given to you once the will reading has concluded," The lawyer instructed.

The lawyer proceeds to explain that Tobias had stipulated that all individuals mentioned in his will must be physically present, and we have all fulfilled that requirement. The reading of the will officially commences.

"I, Tobias Tattersall Hawthorne, being of sound body and mind, decree that my worldly possessions, including all monetary and physical assets, be disposed of as follows," Mr. Ortega reads aloud, ensuring that everyone in the room can hear his words.

The room is filled with a palpable tension. Everyone is on the edge of their seats, their hearts pounding against their chests and their breaths held in anticipation. The silence is so profound that the ticking of the clock is audible.

One by one, each person present in the room is given their share of Tobias's fortune and assets. When Skye and Zara receive their share, they engage in a heated sibling dispute, creating a disturbance in the middle of this crucial event. Mr. Ortega intervenes, calming the two down and emphasizing the near impossibility of challenging the will. Now, it is time to address the grandsons.

"To my grandsons, Nash Westbrook Hawthorne, Grayson Davenport Hawthorne, Jameson Winchester Hawthorne, and Alexander Blackwood Hawthorne, I leave..." As Mr. Ortega's voice resonates through the room, the tension reaches its peak. Zara mutters bitterly, "Everything," expressing her discontent with the situation.

"Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars apiece, payable on their twenty-fifth birthdays, until such time to be managed by Alisa Ortega, trustee," Mr. Ortega continues.

Another eruption of Hawthorne family drama ensues, triggered by these words. The wealth distribution becomes apparent: the grandsons receive their allotted amounts, the two daughters receive Tobias's belongings and five hundred thousand dollars, Nan receives her daughter's jewelry and a yearly sum of one hundred thousand dollars, Oren is bequeathed a toolbox and three hundred thousand dollars, and a mere one hundred dollars are designated for the Laughlin family. "Please, everyone," Mr. Ortega held up a hand and everyone stopped talking all at once. "Allow me to finish," The room goes silent once again but this time everyone turns to me and Avery sitting beside each other.

"Please, everyone," Mr. Ortega raises his hand, and the room falls silent once again. All eyes turn towards me and Avery, who are seated beside each other. The anticipation hangs heavily in the air.

"The remainder of my estate, including all properties, I leave to Avery Kylie Grambs," Mr. Ortega announces. The room fills with a mixture of surprise and astonishment. Libby and Avery's eyes widen at the lawyer's words. I can feel the weight of everyone's gaze upon me, waiting for the rest of the will to be read.

"All remaining monetary assets and worldly possessions not otherwise specified, I leave to..."

My heart races uncontrollably, pounding against my chest, clamoring to be set free. The sound of my own heartbeat drowns out all other noise. My ears feel as though they're ringing, overwhelmed by its deafening rhythm. I struggle to draw a breath, feeling as if my lungs are suffocating, desperate for air. Every fiber of my being cries out for help, for relief. I cannot bring myself to meet anyone's gaze, not even Asnid's. In the midst of my distress, I sense Avery taking hold of my hand, offering a small measure of solace. Yet, it is not enough to quell the tumultuous screams and cries echoing within my heart.

"Verity Quinn Rosewood," Mr. Ortega finally utters my name, and the world around me seems to come crashing down.

Taglist: @whysosmugwitch

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sweetbuckybarnes · 1 year

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May I Speak to Penelope, please? 5/10

Summary: One of the Bridgertons calls on Penelope, and a secret is spilt.

Tag list: @josephine-waters

Masterlist

A knock on his chamber door alerted Colin to the outside world, when he allowed the person on the other side entrance, standing there looking at him was Violet.

"Colin, what's the matter dearest? You've missed breakfast, and you came home early from the ball last night," she wondered.

At the sheer mention of last night's ball, Colin very nearly burst into tears. He started sniffing.

"Colin?" She hurries over to his bedside, as Colin curls in on himself. "What happened last night? You came home after you went outside after you spoke to Penelope."

"She heard me," Colin said, holding a yellow pillow close to his chest. "At her family's ball, she heard me."

"Oh, Colin," Violet reached her hand and started running her hand through his hair. "I'm so sorry, my darling boy."

Colin had cried himself back to sleep, and Violet headed downstairs to see Anthony and Kate reading over the race results in the overstuffed chair in the drawing room.

"Anthony, can you wait here? I need to speak to Penelope," Violet said, finishing off her cup of tea.

Anthony gave his mother a nod, despite him being Lord Bridgeton, he would always obey whatever his mother would tell him.

"Why are going to visit Penelope?" Kate asked, running her fingers through the hair at the nape of Anthony's neck.

"Colin has messed everything up. Penelope overheard him last season. He has fallen back asleep, he has missed breakfast, and he has told me he adores Penelope. I'm going to sort this out before it slips through his fingers," Violet says.

Anthony nods, knowing what it feels like to nearly lose the love of your life. He lashed out at everyone whilst Kate was unconscious, and Colin was hurting over the thought of losing Penelope forever.

"The Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton to see Miss Penelope," Ludders introduced, and Portia motioned for him to let Violet in.

"My Lady," Portia bobbed, and Penelope nodded her head.

Violet waited until the door shut behind her. "May I speak to Penelope, please? Alone?"

Portia blinked repeatedly. "Erm, of course," Portia walked over to the door and left the green drawing room. Leaving Penelope and Violet.

"What can I do for you, Mrs. Bridgerton?" Penelope asked, getting up from the long chair by the window, and putting her book down.

"Oh Penelope, I have told you to call me Violet," she says sitting on one sofa as Penelope takes the sofa opposite.

Penelope nods, she knew Violet was coming here with a purpose. Violet Bridgerton always came with a purpose.

Violet let out a sigh and then spoke. "Colin told me what happened last night."

Penelope shook her head, got up from her spot and walked over to the window. "Then you know what he said to me the night of my family's ball last season."

Violet got up from her spot and walked over to Penelope's side. "Penelope, darling. He feels terrible. After you spoke yesterday, he went straight home. He went straight to bed and hasn't moved since. He missed breakfast," Violet says, making Penelope look at her with surprise.

"Colin loves food."

Violet wraps an arm around her shoulder. "I believe he loves you more."

Penelope shook her head. "He doesn't. Colin doesn't love me, he never has. If he did, he never would have gotten himself engaged to Marina, he never would have said what he did last season."

Violet knew there was no altering Penelope's mind. "Ok, Penelope. But, when Colin speaks to you and lays his heart in front of you, please listen to him?" She asks.

Penelope nodded, turning her head from Violet and to Bridgerton House across the street. She saw Eloise sitting in the Bridgeton drawing room, she knew Eloise wouldn't look over at her.

"Now, what is happening with yourself and Eloise?" She asked, and it made Penelope drop her head and very nearly cry.

Penelope didn't know if she was going to tell Violet the truth, because Penelope knew her surrogate mother would never look at her the same way ever again. But she trusted Violet more than her mother. She knew Violet would be able to come up with a plan to help her make it up to Eloise.

She let out a heavy sigh. "Penelope? Whatever's the matter?"

"It's me," she tells her. "I'm Lady Whistledown."

Violet looked at Penelope with surprise. Penelope was the last person she expected to be Lady Whistledown. "It's you?" She whispers, making sure she was still holding onto Penelope's hand and she collapsed into the lounge chair.

"I'm sorry, Lady Bridgerton," Penelope said, removing her hand from Violet's grip.

"Penelope, Penelope, darling," Violet said, reaching for the young woman she has always considered her fifth Bridgerton daughter. "You have punished your family with nearly every issue. Especially with Miss Thompson."

"Marina planned on trapping Colin in a loveless marriage and would nearly pass off her twins as his," Penelope explains, and Violet nodded. The older woman knew that Penelope always did everything with other people's interests at heart. "I had already spoken to Colin to get him to see what she was doing, but he wouldn't listen to me, I had to resort to Lady Whistledown."

Violet nodded again, reaching over for Penelope and making sure the youngest Featherington was sitting next to her. "What happened with Eloise?"

Penelope nearly collapsed in on herself. "I had to do it. The Queen was becoming suspicious of Eloise. I had to do something to throw her off."

And with that, Penelope burst into tears.

"Oh, Penelope," Violet said, wrapping her arms around Penelope. She looked out the window and saw Eloise stood by the window with furrowed eyebrows.

#Polin #polin fanfiction #polin fic #penelope x colin #colin x penelope #pen x colin #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #violet bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #kate bridgerton #portia featherington #eloise bridgerton

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foxwell · 2 years

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Let's just continue this fun game, A8E8! This time: I am unspoiled. Completely unspoiled. The episode dropped today while I was in an oral exam and I have not listened to the VC, I have not looked at anything in the Discord. I might cry. Who knows. Let's go.

Finally! Assassinate the Pinn! (I'm just a little bit sad that John won't be part of this I think that would have been fun)

Terrible thunderstorm? Quinn joins the angry commoners and goes to save Sybilla confirmed?

I want to draw a Penny Lovejoy tracksuit now, shit

Is Sir Up trying to switch his patron because it sure sounds like that

Hang on Sybilla! Hang on Sybilla!!! Queen of my heart!!!

Hang on Nephila!!!

Everything is so far away from everything in this castle, oh noooo

There comes the thunderstorm from my darling Isadora!!

Annie has murder in her heart and I am here for it

Pinn is going to take control, 100%

SYBILLA MY LOVE YOU CAN DO IT PLEASEEEEE

Yes Penny you are saying he's doing a great job but all your compliments are backhanded

Annie has other priorities than murdering a Lovejoy for the moment

"Yes Miss Wintersummer" I am so here for everyone respecting the shit out of Annie it's what she deserves!!! My darling girl!!

"She is two-armed. Also, quite small."

"I just want to ask a question. Sir Up Ton, do you have more than 150 hitpoints?" The shocked silence after that, SAME. SAME.

She appears right there and Annie has... no healing, does she? That's horrible. That's honestly horrifying.

IN THIS HOUSE WE LOVE AND SUPPORT ANNIE FUCKING WINTERSUMMER

Nephila!!! Nephila my love!!! You got this hell yeah!!!

Gus saying "Helga Hatebad" the same way Sam always does, adorable

HEAL HER!! HELGA MY LOVE YOU CAN HEAL HER!!!

SHE IS SAVED!!!

SYBILLA IS SAVED!!!!

HOLY SHIT!!!!!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

SYBILLA I HAD ALL THE HOPE AND SO LITTLE BELIEF AND HERE YOU ARE!!!!

MY LOVE MY QUEEN MY DEAREST!!! YOU ARE ALIVE AND BREATHING AND CONSCIOUS!!!

Helga you had the best turn ever I love you

I still cannot believe that Sybilla is breathing

I mean there is still so much pod left to cast for this episode but oh my god

"It's my duty as a dungeon master to let you know that's possible" translates to "please kick Penny fucking Lovejoy" to me

Nephila you gay sweetheart

Yondo runs! You are running so good!

It may be stupid but honestly I respect Isadora for wanting to do the honourable thing. And I respect her even more for knowing that it's stupid and trying to find a balance.

I don't know why but the fact that Penny turned away feels like an important character moment, just like it felt important that Isadora did not, in Arc 3. Very different scenes, but still, both feel important in a similar way.

Sybilla do not touch that sword. Do not get within six inches of that sword I beg you.

NO DO NOT TOUCH THAT SWORD AHHH

I am not sure if it's better or worse that Annie has the sword. I guess her saves are better. But oh my god I have seen the Evil!Annie fanart and I am so scared

RUN BOY RUN!!

Annie my life my love my light my dearest (how many characters am I allowed to adore per arc)

KILL THE GUARD! SAVE OUR QUEEN! HELL YES!

It makes me very scared that there is still an hour left. How is there still an hour left. Please let it be just therapy or something.

Isa just knocked her father figure unconscious 🙂 this is fine

YONDO YOU CAN DO THIS I AM ROOTING FOR YOU!

Penny is helping Helga???? A Hatebad and a Lovejoy working together???? "I hope my mother forgives me for this" is this the point where I mark the Bingo field for Hatebad and Lovejoy at least friends at the end??

How do these Nat 20s come at such convenient moments I cannot. Fucking. Believe it.

There he is, the man of the hour!

PENNY FUCKING LOVEJOY

DID YOU JUST

PENNY

DID YOU JUST AGREE TO THIS MAN'S PROPOSAL WHILE HE IS OUT OF BREATH, BATHED IN SWEAT, STANDING IN THE MIDDLE OF A SCENE™

Penny I adore you. I want to study you.

Yondo is adorable oh dear, I am pretty sure he deserves better but I'm glad he got what he wanted

Amazing sibling energy, as always

A better tomorrow 😭😭 I am not sure if this is meant as a reference to what Helga said but it sure feels like it and I love it

Laz and Nephila 😭😭 they are adorable. Also. Great way to not just ignore what happened between them before. I am very glad.

WHAT IS HE DOING THERE

LEAVE, EVIL WIZARD

YOU ARE NOT WANTED HERE

The coronation while bodies are still lying around the castle. What a glorious metaphor for the mess Sybilla inherits from her father.

This kingdom needs to take some time to heal from a great many things I feel like

Yes my love, un-ban charity!

Mixed reaction is probably the best that could happen after that

Roadtrip with Penny, I am sure Isa could not think of anything more fun

AHAHAHAHAHA OH SHIT

Hnghhh three new recurring villains established in a single arc? Pinn, Loroy, Up Ton?

LOROY GO AWAY

GO AWAY

Where is Annie, someone get Annie, please

Sybillaaaaaa please do not let yourself be pushed into a corner by the evil wizard

NO NO NO

JESUS FUCK

OH MY GOD

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

NO NO NO NO NO NO

HOLY FUCKING SHIT

YOU CAN'T JUST FUCKING DO THIS

INCLUDING THE SOUL

I AM: IN FUCKING SHOCK

I FEEL LIKE I HAVE BEEN STABBED

IN THE CHEST

I AM GOING TO SCREAM

What the fuck is happening

I am going to cry

How dare he

How fucking dare he

Prime Lich Wizard I am going to personally hunt you down

If there is one thing I cannot imagine then it's Gem Lovejoy in a standard prison uniform

Where are the Hatebads

Is this the summon Hatebad dice roll?

This feels like the summon Hatebad dice roll

WHELP THERE IT IS

BERYL HATEBAD HER-FUCKING-SELF

I am so happy for Beryl, and at the same point I am honestly sorry for Penny and her siblings

Jesus fucking Christ

I am feeling so many emotions

Maevir darling you did your best, but oh dear

We were right, a fucking lich

Sybilla. My love. My darling.

THE CONTRACT COUNTS? IT'S FAIR AND TRUE???

THE NATION OF GLACERIA?

EXCUSE ME???

Oh my god

This arc

My heart

I am a changed woman

I am a broken and changed woman

Phil and Helga are very much not fine I think

Gus. Gus. I forgive you for Arc 8 just as I forgave you for Arc 6. But oh my fucking god.

I knew things were going far too well far too early into the episode.

Wiki will get updated end of next week when my last exam is finally over, promise.

Also, I am excited for a guest DM, and so much love to Gus! Take your well-deserved break!

#unprepared casters spoilers #unprepared casters #uc arc 8

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queencharlott · 10 months

Text

The Farmer's Wife: Chapter 3

chapter index • ← previous chapter • next chapter →

Charlotte’s mother died in June.

The illness came on too fast and too strong. It had only taken three days before they buried her.

For weeks afterwards, Charlotte sought refuge in her sister’s comfort. Christiane would hold her as she wept, stroke her hair, both shedding silent tears as they contemplated their futures. Charlotte had never been one to lean on anyone, especially not her sister, but this was the only time when she needed her more than ever. They had no parents now. It was only them against the world.

All the kids, Williams and Shaw, attended the funeral. She was the first mother to her own children, second mother to George’s family. Thirteen solemn children along with Augusta had said their goodbyes. Every single one of them wept, even the boys.

Elisabeth Shaw had been the type of woman to instill the love of life and family in her own children. There was nothing she loved more in the world than her own children, except perhaps her neighbors’. Each had a seat at the table, a shoulder to cry on, and a humble ear to listen when things got bad.

“Mama?” asked Charlotte. The eight year old sat curled in her mother’s lap, anxiously chewing her nails.

“Yes, darling?”

“Is papa with my brother and sisters?”

Elisabeth looked at her daughter with weary eyes. Tears welled but they did not fall. She nodded mournfully.

“Yes, dearest,” she shuddered. She had refused to let her voice crack. She needed to stay strong for her children. She stroked the curly hair that matched her own. “He is with them watching over us.”

Charlotte nodded. “I miss him,” said the little girl. She did not have the words to describe what she felt. All she knew was the emptiness she felt inside. She did not comprehend that her mother felt the same sinking emptiness, multiplied by thousands. Elisabeth would never show it.

“I know, sweetheart.” The tears fell, hot and fast. “It will be alright.”

“Charlotte,” George pleaded, knocking at the door until his knuckles were red and raw. “Talk to me.”

“Go away,” said the muffled voice from behind the door. “I am tired and do not want to be bothered.”

“Charlotte, I do not like seeing you like this.” He leaned his head on the door in exasperation. His voice was weary. Christiane had enlisted his help a few days ago.

“George,” said the young woman, catching him as he made his way into the barn. Christiane had never wasted a word on frivolous conversation in her life. His brows furrowed with concern. “I cannot get Charlotte out of bed. She does her chores, she works, but there is no life in her anymore.

I know how she enjoys your company. Please, is there anything you can do to help?”

By the time he had finished the day’s work Charlotte had hidden herself away. He had not seen her in weeks. She kept to the house. She fled each time he came near the kitchen window. He had to make do with the flashes of the puff of her hair, the whirl of a dress. She would not come out until she was ready. George feared that it might never be.

Even still, he made his way up to the upstairs hallway each night. He took a spot in front of the door, leaning his head against it. The ceiling was an empty canvas on which to draw. He plotted the stars and the planets over and over again as he waited for anything to change. It never did. But still he would keep waiting.

He had nearly fallen asleep when the doorknob turned.

“You are still here?” she asked in surprise through the crack in the door. He did not dare to look. It would be scandalous to see her in her night dress.

“Yes,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “Do not worry. I will leave.” He made to get up.

“No,” she whispered desperately. “Please. Stay.”

And he did.

The Charlotte that George knew would never completely return to herself. She would hold the grief inside her from then and forever. He knew he could not fix her broken heart nor return her mother to her. The only thing he could do, and for which Charlotte was eternally grateful, was to leave space for her memory. On those nights when they would sit against the bedroom wall, talking through the crack in the door, they would reminisce about her mother.

“My baking skills were doomed from the start, you know,” she said. She was staring at the bedroom wall, but her mental image of him was so vivid it was like he was sitting across from her.

“Oh?”

“We were making shortbread. My first time, her… millionth. She told me to get the dry ingredients, which I obliged. She missed me mixing up the salt and sugar,” Charlotte recollected. “The look on her face when she tasted those. I nearly burst into tears. But she just laughed, tears in her own eyes. She had never thought a thing so funny.”

Charlotte laughed through her tears. George had joined her.

Other times, they would sit in silence. His presence was enough for her.

The night before she extracted herself from her bedroom for good, she had slipped a piece of paper under the door. Thank you, it read. For listening. He stashed the paper away with the farmhouse in the field, in a journal no one would see but him.

And so the Shaw children soldiered on. Grief blanketed the farm like three inches of snow. Only the passage of time could melt the snow, making it bearable to go outside once more. For Charlotte, it felt as though the winter was endless and that spring might never come. The grief had frozen her but slowly, slowly did she begin to thaw.

Still reclusive but much more herself, Charlotte had begun hesitatingly to do the things she once enjoyed. It almost felt as though she did not deserve to be joyful. But she knew that her mother would not approve of this. She did it for her.

George found Charlotte had been sketching in the barn, nestled in a chair of hay.

“George?”

A sweaty tunic stuck to his trim body, his forehead dripping with perspiration. She barely noticed that every single one of his abs was showing quite magnificently through his soaked shirt. He wiped his face with his sleeve, attempting to regain his breath from the long run over here. He took a seat beside her. Though he did not smell of flowers and waterfalls, she did not seem to mind. Her thoughts were on other things.

“When I think back on her memory, I feel more joy than sadness.” She nodded somberly. She knew grief would not be a linear process, but she was glad of some relief. “I do miss her though.”

He wrapped his arm around her. “I miss her, too,” he agreed, quietly. Without even realizing it, he was making gentle swirls into her forearm.

It was the first time that she hadn’t lusted over his physical appearance. Of course, no one could deny that he was a strikingly beautiful man. But he was greater than the sum of his parts. She had not realized the depth of his gentle soul nor the tenderness of his heart. Her own heart ached for her mother, yes, but for him too.

Charlotte leaned her head into his shoulder. She closed her eyes. She could feel his heart beating, his lungs inhale and exhale, his fingers caressing her arm. How perfectly she fit into his arm, how perfectly her head fit onto his shoulder, Charlotte thought.

How perfectly she fit into his arm, how perfectly her head fit onto his shoulder, thought George.

Two pieces of a puzzle. Two halves of one whole.

chapter index • ← previous chapter • next chapter →

#the farmers wife

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muggycuphead · 2 years

Text

weird flex but ok i guess pt.23

War… Hold up, do we really need a warning for this one? Dunno, but however, watch out for slightly disturbing and kinda…disgusting imagery, trypophobic patterns, as well as ‘necrotic’ (and dark themed) designs I made while having funky fever bc o h m y g o d do I get a little crazier every new quarantine day (and at this point it’s coming to be an usual thing for me, big sad). However, most are made no other than for the sole sake of satire, so y’know, no need to get your underwear in a twist

Friday Night Funkin’ BoyFriend’s Hood – AU fanconcept sketches [XX]

EDIT 16/11/2023: Updated the drawing with a rescanned, more clean version

1.- Miss Luzbell

Daddy Dearest’s ex-wife in BF’sH, as well as Stephano and Bruce’s biological mother

If y’all couldn’t tell my burning passion for making strange, very detailed character designs, this shall b enough to convince you about it

She’s supposed to be a goth gospel singer by the way…and she’s a gargoyle

Her design, however, was real fun to make, especially her moon scythe (just noticed afterwards that I snuck a low-key Zardy reference, woo)

2.- Bruce

Stephano’s brother, and GF’s half-brother

And when I say ‘obscure’, I’m not saying he’s the edgiest of all characters (after his mom of course), but that he’s the least lore-wise appearing character; technically I just did his design out of spite lol

However, unlike his mild brother, he has no ill feelings against GF; heck, he himself knows their mother was the one that peaced out with no care and just left them at their luck with their dad…he still messes around with GF every so and then though.

3.- Shape!BoyFriend/Major B (BlueFriend) and Shape!Lil B/Minor B (Light BlueFriend)

Funny rhythm game mashup go bzzz

Beyond this point all I did was filler stuff…just for fun c:

Used the symbol on BF’s jacket for this one, both for the big and the small boi

Light BluF do be looking cute tho

4.- Shape!Stephano (Octephano)

Close to me but the Godfather walked in

Way to say Stephano’s design was indirectly/slightly inspired in my AU fandesign of Cube, don’tcha think-

5.- Shape!GirlFriend/High G (PinkFriend) and Shape!Miss G/Low G (Light PinkFriend)

Demon hoe and demon child

Before you ask, I went with my fancanon for this one (pink shapes can be with paradise shapes as long as they’re ‘purified’ with any light-source magic –aka triangles), hence why she’s wearing a triangle –BluF also has one by the way, basically it’s his mic

6.- Shape!Pico (HexaPico)

go pico ye ye

Idk what colour he’d be exactly, maybe a mix between orange and green (orange being the predominant color since y’know)

Also his hands can shapeshift into guns as long as he has the weapons’ config stored in his database (in this case, his right arm being the assault rifle, and the left one being his uzi)

7.- Nostalgic BoyFriend

Sad boi

Basically happening after the GF-got-stolen event

8.- Simplified Style! Stephano

This is a FNF ‘artstyle’ concept I though of not too long that’s basically like combining but bad with Minus and taking away all color paletes, having the lineart to be the only colorful part of the sprite (mostly being the color of the icon the character has)

Also, finally got to draw his revolver thing, even if it was low-key

9.- Heart thing…?

Was meant to be Stephano’s signature symbol or something, but I don’t know at this point

10.- Simplified Style! BoyFriend

Back at it again with the simplifications

And yeah in my interpretation, simplify!BF has a transparent cap, don’t ask

11.- Blood Moon

Random sketch

Looks like a fusion between Whore of Babylon and Spirit of the Night (TBOI) but that might be just me

12.- Shape!Arzeus (TriArzeus)

Inverted triangle bad

I can’t help but think that, in order to possess Broddy, he would have had to do it blixer style (headstab)

#fnfau #alternate universe #au #alternative timeline #alt universe #friday night funkin'#bfsh #jsab #jpsab #jsab au #zzzzzzzzzzzzzz #go pico ye ye

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whatdoesshedotothem · 2 years

Text

Wednesday 6 June 1832

9 5

1 40

damp muggy disagreeable unwholesome morning F59 ½° out at 9 5 – breakfast at 10 ½ - Letter 3 pages from my aunt Shibden all well - all particularly my aunt much shocked and poorly Cordingley sadly - afflicted at the fate of poor George – kind letter 2 pages from Mrs Duffin, York, regretting that my visit was put off and they could not invite me to Acomb – read thro’ the times newspaper and sat talking to CN- and came to my room at 1 – have written out Miss H- part of what I wrote last night changed my mind and wrote the whole of my letter afresh – wrote 3pp. and much under the seal small and close (throwing aside what I wrote yesterday) of ½ sheet to Miss H- chiefly an answer to her last letter and about her own concerns – said I was free as ever again – ‘the lady did me the infinite kindness to start some company difficulties and I therefore and firmly believe, that her great talent for drawing, would only have drawn me into potheration without end’............. ask where Lady Gordon is, and what she has determined on at last - and to whom I am to direct undercover for postage frightens me – mentioned having written her a longish letter just before the accident happened – Lady S- would tell V- all about it – ‘I see the Hamiltons are going to the United States of Rio de la Plata – there are still many chambers in my poor brain where any new thing may find room – god bless you, my dearest Vere – Liberty and ‘independence are good things, but the kindred charities that tie us down to one heart and one home are better ever affectionately yours AL’ - then wrote 3pp. and ends to my aunt thanking her for letter and giving an account of how poor George was laid out etc and of the arrival of the corpse at Londesborough at 12 yesterday (left here at 5am) and to be interred today - very decent funeral - hoods and scarfs – at 3 ½ sent off by little boy to Malton my letter to the ‘Honourable Lady Stuart Richmond Park’ written yesterday and to ‘Miss Hobart’ under cover to the ‘Lord Stuart de Rotheasay at the Earl of Hardwickes 3 St. James’s square London’ and my letter to my aunt ‘Shibden hall Halifax’ – Mrs. Norcliffe has been sick all the morning and lay down - dressed – CN- and I dined tête-à-tête at 4 ¾ - coffee – Dr. Travis came - Mrs N- soon went to bed - still very sick - disguised gout - tea - read forward to the end of the reign of Isabella of Castille volume 1 Jamesons memories of the female sovereigns - sat up talking to CN - about the humbug of life I had less independence than ever the same people and things did not give the same pleasure as formerly had now more pleasure in CN-’s society than anyone I think she is now all on my sides against π- for her change and unsteadiness to me - came to my room at 12 – F61° now at 1 tonight – Damp, muggy, Scotch misty, disagreeable day -

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promenadewithme · 3 years

Note

May I please have prompt 62 with Simon Basset x female!reader?

Of course! Thank you for requesting!

Pairing: Simon Basset x Fem!Reader

Prompt: 62 (”She doesn’t belong with him” “Than who does she belong with?” “...with me.”)

Warnings: very slight angst with a happy ending. I'm sorry, but I just had to include him saying "I burn for you".

Word count: 1.7 k

Tell me if you want to join my tag list!

Oblivious

__________________________________________

Dearest Readers,

it has come to this author’s attention that Lady (y/n) (y/l/n) and Lord Benedict Bridgerton were seen promenading earlier this week. We all know Miss (y/l/n) to be a close friend to the Bridgertons, but will she officially become part of the family? Rest assured, if there is an engagement this author will find out.

Your’s Truly,

Lady Whistledown.

__________________________________________

YOUR P.O.V.

“This is absurd!” you exclaimed. “We were seen walking and now we’re to be married?”

“Calm down, (y/n). You know Whistledown is just a gossip, no one will remember this in a week.” said Benedict, putting down his sketchbook to look at you.

As soon as you woke, your lady’s maid showed the infamous society papers and you all but ran to the Bridgerton estate. Benedict was, as always, in the drawing room sketching away. He had already read the paper, but thought nothing of it. He was calm, so calm it irritated you.

“Ben, you don’t understand! If people think I’m engaged to you, they will stop courting me and, unless you plan on marrying me, that is a disaster! I have to marry this season!” at this point Benedict stood up and caressed your arm in an attempt of calming you down. To anyone else, this scene would be scandalous and incredibly improper, but you and Ben have known eachother since infancy and were the best of friends, so there was nothing romantic about the gesture.

“(y/n), my dear, what is this rush? We are still young, you can see so many more seasons before being considered a spinster. You are beautiful, smart, accomplished and any man in the ton would be more that lucky to have you as his wife. If they don’t see it, it’s their loss. As for the rumors chasing them away, I believe it will do quite the opposite.” he said with a smirk.

“Whatever do you mean? If they believe I am to be married, how would it attract them?” you asked, incredulous.

“Well, not to brag, but I am a Bridgerton. If they think you caught my eye, they’d be curious to know what’s so special about you. So, don’t fret. All will be well.” With one last reassuring squeeze, he turned around and sat back down. “Now, are you going to Lady Danbury’s ball this evening?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at his sketch, not quite contempt with the shading.

“Of course I am, it’s the biggest ball of the season!” you exclaimed, sitting down on the sofa in front of him.

“Thank the heavens! If my mother tries to push eligible ladies my way, I’ll run in your direction.” he said, still sketching. Benedict stopped for a second and looked up at you “I heard a certain Duke will be there.” he stated with a smirk. You rolled your eyes and said “We all know he is bewitched by Daphne, it does not matter if he will be there.”

“Of course it matters, you are in love with the man! And, to be completely honest, I don’t believe it is my sister who his heart belongs to. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, it’s the same way Colin looks at maps or Eloise looks at books.” He was leaning forward now, elbows on his knees, hands loosely clasped.

“Like I’m an object?” you said, kidding of course and dying to change the subject. You had the tendency to get your hopes up and the last thing you wanted was to believe your friend and end up with a broken heart.

“Like you hung the moon and the stars.” he had a serious expression and your heart skipped a beat with the thought that Simon would ever look at you that way, but you knew it would never happen. So you waved your hand, smiled and said “I think all the charcoal and paint is going straight to your brain, Mr. Bridgerton. I expect to see your hands all clean if you are to dance with me to trick your poor mama.” Standing up, you curtsied mockingly and said your goodbyes before walking out the door.

SIMON'S P.O.V.

Simon woke with news from Lady Whistledown. He was never one to believe in gossip, but Daphne was always talking about the society papers during their fake courting, so his curiosity got the best of him. What he did not expect was to read (y/n)'s name.

He had sworn to himself that he would never marry, but arriving at the beginning of the season he couldn't help but be smitten by you. He tried to fight it, but every time you smiled he saw himself smiling along, every time you wore his favourite colour he forgot how to breathe, and every time he saw you with Benedict Bridgerton he couldn't control his jealousy.

He confided in Daphne about it and she guaranteed (y/n) and the second Bridgerton son were just close friends, but Lady Whistledown seems to think differently. To be married? Was this true? If so, he knew it was for the best. He would be able to keep his promise to himself, but he could not help the ache in his heart as he dressed for the day.

(Y/N)'S P.O.V.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, pleased with the outcome. Your lady's maid had weaved delicate flowers in your hair, that was pulled up loosely and you wore your newest dress, long white gloves and the family diamonds. Madame Delacroix really outdid herself this time. It was your favourite colour, with princess sleeves, only slightly puffed, and had embroidered tulle at the hem and bottom part of the skirt. You looked truly beautiful.

"(y/n), it's time to-" your mother paused at the door and looked at you. She smiled softly at your reflection. "You look so beautiful, my dear... Do you think a certain Lord might like it too?" she said smiling softly.

"It is not the Lord's attention I want, mama. You know Ben is just a friend" you said, playing with the skirt of your dress.

"I know, sweetheart, I just don't want you do get hurt. All I want is for you to be happy and what better than to marry your best friend?" she hugged you from behind and kissed your cheek, still looking at your reflection.

"To marry the one you love..."

SIMON'S P.O.V.

"You really have outdone yourself, Lady Danbury." Simon said, looking down at the woman who practically raised him. She was wearing a white gown, a tiara and long white gloves, radiant as always, leaning on her cane.

"I always do, my boy. Now, look at that! Your beloved has arrived." she declared with a small smirk.

"I have already spoken to Daphne" he said, nodding in the Bridgerton family direction, however his heart was beating out of his chest as he turned to look at (y/n). It seemed impossible, but she was even more beautiful than the last time he saw her. Simon looked away before he was caught staring.

"We both know I'm not speaking of the Bridgerton girl. You are not as discreet in your brooding as you like to think." he looked at you again, but you were already speaking to Benedict, who was leading you to the dance floor. "What is bothering you, boy?"

Simon stared at the pair dancing for a moment before responding. "She does not belong with him."

"Than who does she belong with?" (y/n) was laughing at something Benedict said and Simon could not bare the view anymore.

"...With me." he mumbled before heading to the gardens.

(Y/N)'S P.O.V.

The song finished and you curtsied, smiling at your best friend. The smile slowly turned into a frown as you saw Simon walking out, into the gardens.

"Go after him." Benedict whispered.

"What? We would be unchaperoned, it would be scandalous!" you answered, only loud enough for him to hear.

"I'll stand at the door and make sure no one sees. Go!" you smiled and wished you could hug you best friend. "Thank you, Ben." you said as you went into the garden after the man you love. The weather was pleasant and the garden was completely empty, with only the Duke passing back and forth close to the bushes.

"Simon?" he stopped in his tracks, looking surprised as he gazed back at you and stepped closer.

"What are you doing here, if we were to be caught unchaperoned yo-" you stopped the nervous man by saying "Benedict is at the door, no one will see."

"Of course he is." he mumbled, but you heard.

"What does that mean?" you asked, not understanding his sudden dislike for the lord.

"It means he is always around, always with you." he spat out.

"Well, he is my best friend." you could not believe what he was saying. "What do you have against him?" you questioned.

"Are you truly to be married?" he demanded, ignoring your question.

"What?" you replied, completely incredulous.

"Please don't." he murmured.

"Simon, I-" you tried to answer but he cut you off.

"Before you say anything, please listen to me. Don't marry him, please." he paused for a second, adjusting his posture. "I love you. You..." he shook his head. "You don't even know what you do to me. Ever since I can remember, I have promised myself I would never fall victim to love, would never marry, would not let my family name carry on. Then came you."

Simon took a step closer and continued to speak. "You changed my plans, awoke desires I never knew I had, you have stolen my heart and my soul... I burn for you." he took your gloved hands in his, caressing them softly. "Don't marry him, marry me." he gazed into your eyes, waiting your answer.

"Simon... It was never my plan to marry Benedict, I was completely honest when I said he is nothing but a friend." you smiled up at him before saying "you are the one I love, always have been."

Simon grinned before pulling you into a passionate kiss, one hand on your back and the other behind your neck. It was a good thing Benedict was at the door, if anyone saw this scene and the rumours reached Lady Whistledown... You didn't even want to think about the ruin it would bring upon your family.

When you and Simon finally parted you managed to mumble "We truly have been oblivious, haven't we? I thought you were in love with Daphne." he chuckled.

"And I thought you to be with Benedict. Good thing you followed me out here, my love." he said, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

"From now on, it's all I'll ever do."

#simon basset #simon basset x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #simon basset fanfiction #simon basset x (y/n)#simon basset x y/n

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angstama · 3 years

Text

god knows you tried | manjiro (mikey) sano

pairing: bonten!mikey x reader

genre: angst

warnings: heartbreak, attempt suicide(?), original characters/manga plot (pls do not read if you haven’t read the manga D: ), mentions of religion, implied sex (no smut ok!)

summary: god knows you tried your best. if only mikey knew how hard you’re trying too then perhaps this love wouldn’t hurt as much as you thought.

words: 1823 words

a/n: i think this sucks but... i hope you enjoy it! <3

god knows you tried.

you watched the ex-toman boys eagerly catching up with takemichi quietly, hands resting against your chin as you took in the rare sight in front of you with a sad smile etched on your lips. this was the happy ending that mikey had sacrificed for everyone but himself.

“a penny for your thoughts?” mitsuya asks, plopping down next you on to the stone steps. that’s right, it’s june 19th 2018, toman’s formation day anniversary and everyone had gathered around to re-open the time capsule from twelve years ago. “hm? nothing much. just missing a particular someone.” you hummed, dragging your fingers across the ground to draw a heart. mitsuya nods understandingly, knowing not to pry any deeper anymore and for that, you’re thankful.

crouching down, you hesitantly picked up the the blue coloured envelope you left behind twelve years ago. unsure if you’d wanna read the contents of the letter your naive self written back then. with a deep breath, you slipped open the cover. revealing a photo of candid photo of you and mikey leaning on each other asleep with your mouths wide open taken by emma.

dearest y/n,

i wonder what you’re doing right now?

are you perhaps finally studying in film?

has that idiot manjiro finally proposed to you?

or are you the one who proposed to him?

“y/n, you’ll be with me for a long time right?” mikey asked, staring at the very sky that you both loved oh so very much with your hands intertwined. having grown up with each other since young had pretty much given you both the illusion that the two of you will always be a part of each other’s world. and you hoped with every inch of your heart that mikey wants it to be that way forever. “of course. you’re my heaven and home mikey. i wouldn’t go anywhere else without you by my side.” you squeezed his hand in assurance, knowing that at this very moment, mikey was at his most truthful and vulnerable self with you.

whatever it is, i hope that you’re living the happy life with him that you’ve been dreaming of.

signing off,

toman’s honorary member, y/n l/n.

everyone was silent. even hakkai who had been making fun of everyone’s letter kept quiet. the boys knew how much you loved and you still love mikey. each opting to give you the concerned and sympathetic look. you could feel you heart breaking even more for you knew you weren’t doing anything that you had hoped for back then.

you felt mitsuya’s comforting hand softly grabbing onto yours. “well that’s depressing,” you chuckled softly, wanting to get rid of the awkward tension in the air as soon as possible. “let’s grab some ramen, i’m starving.” and with that, you let your feet drag you away from the heavy atmosphere with your head hung low.

perhaps the hurt wouldn't be as painful if you weren’t the only one who knew what kind of path mikey had chosen to go down. you see, when mikey turned his back against all his closest friend, you had the privilege of staying as his only constant thanks to your stubborn nature but even with that, you weren’t enough to keep him away from his dark impulses. mikey chose the path to destruction and the only thing that you could do was watch from the sidelines and be there when he shows up at wee hours of the night to borrow your body. but you didn't mind. it was during these most intimate moments with mikey that you finally get to feel a piece of him again when he spews the words of “i love you” so effortlessly.

god knows that you tried.

“mikey those aren’t good for you.” you frowned, snatching the capsule away from his hand seconds before he could flush it down his system. “what the fuck y/n?” the angered male snaps. you felt yourself falling and back colliding against the hard ground. opening your eyes, you see mikey pining you down with nothing but void darkness in his eyes. “i’ll fucking kill you if you do it again.” mikey taunts, he was serious and you know it.

“then kill me mikey.” the words slipped out of your tongue instantly. you were tired. tired of trying. you don't know what else can you possibly do to help mikey anymore. mikey says nothing but got off you. he dusted himself and without sparing you single glance, he showed you his back again, walking out of the door where sanzu was already holding open for him. “get her home.” you heard him say.

it’s been a week since you guys opened the time capsule. nothing much had happened since then except you’ve been spending more time with hina considering how she’s often over to mitsuya’s studio for gown fitting. you admired and envy her love story with takemichi. but who were you to complain? you were lucky enough that mikey still wanted you around. so it shouldn’t hurt so much when you sae her adorning the beautiful wedding gown that mitsuya had spent months on tailoring.

you let out a tired yawn, stretching your arms above your head as you finished touching up the last few bits of editing on your laptop. you looked over at the calendar on your table, a pink heart circled over today’s date and smiled. “mitsuya, i’m gonna knock off first okay?” you announced, tidying up your table and reaching out for the bag of the familiar favourite deserts of a certain male.

mitsuya nods, “thank you for your hard work y/n”. he flashes you a smile, eye slowly trailing to the white plastic bag dangling from your side as you waved goodbye, back facing him and walking away. “you’re going to see him aren't you?” you stopped in your tracks. “i know he never left you. plus you got a bag filled with dorayakis and taiyakis. that’s pretty obvious.” mitsuya chuckles. you always knew mitsuya to be perceptive but it never once occured to you that your best friend who is also your boss would ever catch on to the secret you’ve been hiding for twelve years.

“how did yo-”

“be careful y/n.” mitsuya waves you off, going back to whatever he was doing. a fond smile creeps onto your lips as you watched mitsuya working hard. “thank you mitsuya. for everything. really,” you whispered, but loud enough for the dual dyed coloured hair boy to look up again when you walked away.

you made your way towards the secluded vip section of the club through swarms of body swaying around you until you saw the familiar tall pink haired male standing outside the golden door.

“hey sanzu,” you greeted, barely audible over the loud booming music. you were about to push the door open when sanzu towers over you immediately, denying you of your entrance. you looked at sanzu in confusion, “it’s me, y/n. i’m here to see mikey.” you said loudly, voice straining to over power the background noise. “ i know. but mikey will not be seeing anyone right now.” he retorts back.

surely mikey knew that you were visiting tonight right? after all it’s your anniversary date. you tilted your head at sanzu. not fully understanding what he’s saying. to say that you’re feeling absolutely livid would be an understatement right now. you’re too tired, angry and broken hearted to process anything anymore so you exploded. you only wanted to see your boyfriend. was that a very difficult request?

“sanzu,” you said lowly, eyes staring blankly into his and as if on cue, you brought your knees to his precious manhood before making another high kick at him, bringing him down. it was a technique that mikey had taught you when you were younger and attending martial arts lesson together with baji. god you missed baji so much.

“y/n because you’re short, you can do this instead.” mikey suggested smugly, kneeing poor baji’s little friend before swinging his legs much more harder than he intended to at baji’s profile when he bent forward. the main point was to get your opponent to lean forward so that your legs could reach high enough to create an impact on their skull. you eyes lit up in excitement, “wow! that’s so cool! let me try it!” you jumped impatiently. turning towards mikey to execute the exact same move. “wait n-! AHH,” mikey’s eyes widened, and before he knew it, you had completely knocked him over.

that day, as mikey and baji lied down with pain still intact barely moving an inch, shinchiro only gave you a thumbs up and praised you for taking down the invincible mikey. you were the only one who could do that.

“sanzu, i’ll see my boyfriend as and when i’d like to.” you said curtly, eyeing sending daggers at him lying on the ground before stepping over him to swing the door open, revealing your petite self to the other bonten’s executives and hostess who were staring at you in surprise.

you don’t see anyone else but your lover who’s currently sitting in the center with two pretty hostess sitting by his side. you don’t hesitate and begun walking towards him. “get your hands off my man.” you said calmly. there was tension in the air and from the corner of your eyes, you could see the executives slowly getting up to leave as if on cue.

“aren’t you as stubborn as always,” he raises a brow as you settled down next to him, pouring the bag of dessert on the glass table in front of you. you smile softly, grabbing a packet of taiyaki and handing it to him before grabbing one for yourself too. “happy 14th anniversary mikey.” you mumbled softly before grabbing a bite. 14 years, that was how long you two had been together for. “mhm. happy 14th anniversary y/n.” mikey hums, allowing you lean in close to him and resting your head on his chest.

you take in the scent of mikey for you knew that this is going to be the last time you’re going to be able to hold mikey close to you. you didn't want this moment to end but you were too tired to continue on and see what's going to happen the next when you go back to just another normal day. you held tightly to the gun you hid in your bag, shutting your eyes tightly.

“hey mikey,” you called out. you never thought you’d see it again but you saw a flash of endearment in his eyes when you called him. “i love you so much, promise you’ll take care of yourself alright?” you smiled warmly before pulling the gun out of your bag and putting it against your head.

god knows you tried.

god knows you did your best and now you’re going home.

bang!

#tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers #mikey x you #mikey sano #mitsuya takashi #toman #chifuyu matsuno #mikey x y/n #fanfic

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bokettochild · 3 years

Text

I Am My Master's Sword

So... I ended up having feelings about Fi. Mostly because of a a post that was shared before my Tumblr break about her. Like, we talk about how Fi might have felt when Wind pulled her, and I know- I know! I talk about him a lot but-

Legend.

Legend was a kid, maybe even younger than Time was, when he pulled the sword. And unlike in the other timelines where Fi's decision hurt the hero, in this one, he died!

Fi is dedicated to, and assigned, one task; to help her master protect the world. So how would it effect her to fail in that task and let her master die? Only to be given another one, just as young and small and weak, to try and guide?

Anyways, I caught Fi feels and wrote her a little thing. It is TTTB compliant, but you don't have to read that 30+ Chapter mess to read this.

Hope y'all enjoy!

Perhaps it was not the goddess’s will, but Fi had favorites.

Logically, a sword should not have any attachment to her many masters, she should have been cold and loyal to all of them, granting them her power and aid until they returned her to her rest, and then waited for the next one to come and draw her blade.

But even so, there were a few of her masters that she had an especial fondness, for, even despite her attempts to remove her own feelings from the equation.

Master. Matdas. Link. The Hero of the Surface and the Sky. Chosen Hero of Hylia herself, her dearest and closest friend, easily stood at the top of her list of favorite heroes. He was the one to forge her to her fullest power and stand by her side. Certainly, he was an eternally exhausted and somewhat easily distracted young man, but in her lengthy experience, it seemed that was simply Her Grace’s preference for heroes. The point was that her first Master was her favorite, and dearest of friends, and despite his flaws; his tardiness and inability to focus for long periods, his utter cluelessness when conversing with other individuals, and his (honestly endearing) love of danger; she adored him.

They could not remain together forever though. She may be her Master’s sword, but a knight only requires the use of his blade as long as he is in battle, and with Demise defeated, there was no need for her power to be continuously used. It was with great sadness that Master had laid her to rest, and had Fi ad a heart, she had little doubt that she would have shed many a tear at their parting.

She lay at rest for many years.

The hero after her Master had no need of her power, forging his own blade like his ancestor before him and defeating evil without her aid.

It was the hero that followed after that that weighed heavy on her mind.

The young Hero of Time was both her greatest regret and her greatest sorrow. A mere child, one too young for her voice to be of any aid to him, her calculations and estimates nothing in comparison to the orb of blue light -a fairy she had determined- that filled the air with chatter and guided the boy along. Had she had her way here, he too would have gone on without having to wield her power. Such a choice was not in her metaphorical hands however, and when small fingers had clasped her hilt the possibilities of the future had overwhelmed her.

In another world, the sleep she sent him into saved him. In another world, her strength was enough. In another time, the hero survived and moved on with his life. In another world he grew up and was married and was happy. The echoes of that world resounded within her, but they were not the life that she saw in this time. No. In this time, her blade clattered to the ground amid the churned-up dirt and seeping blood as a boy too young had released his last breaths in an agonizing scream.

The princess defeated the monster that was Ganon, sealing him away. The princess took her blade in her hands and carried it far away from the castle, hiding it in a grove with a bitter curse on her lips for the blade's failure to protect its master.

Still stained in blood and dirt, Fi took the admonition of Her Grace’s incarnate, fully aware of her own failure in the gristly matter.

She sat alone in that grove for centuries.

Trees rose and fell and hand after hand tugged at her blade, curious but unworthy to remove her. Children had played at her base, uninjured by her dull blade as stories were shared about where the youngsters thought the broken and neglected blade had come from.

“A princess put it there.” A pink haired child had told his playmates. “I saw her in a dream once.”

“A princess?”

“Sure, Link, an’ my Gran’s a duchess!”

The other children had laughed and teased, eventually tiring of their play and wending back to where their parent’s and families gathered on the edge of the grove, half-way through a journey, no doubt to a festival or event in castle town.

Fi had watched with a stiff little smile. They were precious beings, Her Grace’s children, she could understand why Master and the Spirit Maiden had been so dedicated to protecting these people if such small beings were possible. She enjoyed watching them, as much as a sword spirit could, perched, invisible to the mortal gaze, on the hilt of her blade, watching games of tag and hide and go seek with dull eyes.

None of them should have been able to see her.

Purple eyes met hers regardless, shining and curious, and so painfully innocent.

Had the spirit had a heart, it would have sunk in her chest at the smile and shy wave cast her way.

“By Miss Blue Lady.” The boy had whispered, darting off with his playmates back to their caravan.

And just like that, she’d known that evil would again rise soon.

None but a Hero of Hylia ought to have been able to see her.

She dreaded the day that the hands of the pink haired boy would wrap around her blade. Would he be a child still, like the last one? Would he have aged at least as much as her beloved Master? Still young, but old enough to at least bare the weight of her blade without stumbling? Would Her Grace be able to hold strong long enough that her Chosen Ones would be allowed to age enough to bare their heavy burden?

Her soul wavered when the blade was pulled at last, and had she been capable, she would have cried tears of sorrow when she saw her new Master.

He was still so small...

She was far too big for him, just as the hero before him, but the very thought of sending him off, putting him to sleep like she had the last one..... The Hero of Time’s soul would have stirred and roamed free to find and shatter her should she do so, she had little doubt. And she would wish it. Never again, never again would she trap a mind in a body too old, nor would she so illy prepare her master as she had her last.

In another time, another world, a place covered with waves as far as the eyes could see, her choice was the same, and when a small boy, only twelve or so years of age had come, she had breathed her blessing on him even as a soul foreign to the Hero’s Destiny had pulled her free. In that world, her Master had not fallen, but the world had been corrupted in the wake of their victory, and it was left without a guardian to save it from the evils of the world.

But in this world, she had held herself aloof from the young one in her care, careful to not impress on him the destiny he neither chose not embraced. Duty pushed this child, orders of one above him and the glimmer of hope that whatever sorrow burdened his young heart might be relieved. There was little she could say or do to him regardless, after all, she was not meant to be locked into stone, away from Her Grace’s power and touch, where her blade could not regain its power and where she grew weak and damaged.

There was little she could do to aid the little hero, her Young Master, but Hylia’s wisdom touched the young one’s mind and he, rather than forsaking her for a better blade, took especial care to clean and care for her blade, gathering supplies and taking her to a smithy who strengthened and brightened her blade, and who’s hands guided her Young Master to mend her ailments and restore her to power.

Again, under caring fingers and a soulful gaze, she was restored to her true strength, and when little fingers had set to work, etching away a name in her steel, she’d never done a thing to stop them. He had never seen, but she had smiled at the little one as he looked down at his work with a firm nod.

His smile was so much like Master’s own, it made her spirit sing.

Her new master, her little master, the youngest she had known yet (in this time and in this world) was a good one. He tended her blade with all the care due by a young smithy, and even after he had replaced her to her resting place, his enemy defeated and his world saved, he’d taken care to visit and tend to her blade.

While he worked, he’d sing.

Sometimes the Ballad of the Goddess that he hummed, sometimes an old song she didn’t know. Sometimes he’d chatter, telling her about his day and how the world was. About the apple orchard beside his house and how it prospered, about the princess that was his sister, and about the things they’d seen on their journey.

Unlike before, violet eyes did not rest on her when she perched on the sword’s hilt, attentive and silent, but that did not stop her from watching him as he attended to her blade and the stone it was set in, as he cared for the ground and the area around it with all the worry and knowledge of a budding gardener.

But then he had stopped coming, and only the princess had come to her once and again, until Farore’s Oracle herself came, taking her blade in hand and whisking them away to a faraway country where her little hero, a bit older and a bit more experienced, waiting to take her on another adventure.

He had had help this time, there were friends and a mentor at his back as he fought the corrupted Golden Goddess that had been Nayru, but now acted only as a puppet to the evil Veran. There was no small amount of pride in the spirit’s soul as she watched him lead an army to destroy Ganon once more, to defeat Koume and Kotake and destroy the Tower of Evil that Veran had caused to be built.

Adventure after adventure, she had watched her little hero grow in skill and body. But with each task, each fateful quest, she had seen light leave violet eyes until they were hard and cold as stone. Eyes that lacked the purity and innocence to see her when at last her strength had fully returned. He no longer spoke to her, even as his hands worked dutifully over her blade. Only a set jaw and harsh stare met her gaze when she tried to catch his eye again, and again the spirit’s lack of a heart to break was felt as she watched bitterness and anger take over the boy as he cast aside any faith he may have once held for the Oracles and Her Grace Hylia.

Like a mother whose child has gone astray, she mourned, watching as task after task had consumed the innocent child and fueled the anger of the troubled teenager.

Sword spirits were not meant to have feelings, or to love and grow fond, and perhaps this was why. Because any Hero who must wield his blade for too long will change and grow callus and bitter towards those he loves, and she would have to watch the life fade from them as anger took hold. Hylia had attempted to grant her peace, to save her from the curse that was feeling, but she had pushed just enough to taste it, and now it was hers and a curse that weighed heavily on her as she was carried to and fro on quest after quest after quest.

Fi should not have known all of this, should not have known the heroes that she would meet in the future. Her memories should not have swum to her as nine heroes gathered, each baring his own blade as once more her Master had drawn her from her place to join with his fellow heroes to fight an evil that danced through time with no regard for its sacred pattern and the delicate lines cast between worlds. By all calculations, she ought not be able to know each in all of their individual splendor and lack thereof. She should not have known that the last of their number was once the youngest to wield her blade, or that in his time her strength was nothing to the world it was needed to save.

She shouldn’t have known that the boy’s father was a knight who’s power had been corrupted with her strength, a man brought near to ruin in her desperate attempt to right the wrongs she had done to those before him. Her strength was returned in his time, and it had nearly saddled her with the weight of another hero’s death.

She shouldn’t have known the beast that tamed himself with her power, the wolf that stirred inside the heart of a Hylian who had drawn her strength to himself in a time of shadows and twisted evils that spread far beyond the corrupted worlds and into Her Grace’s blessed land itself.

And there was her Master, and the child hero who she had killed and saved and ruined and lost all at once, alive from the time he had moved on from when he had left her yet returned her, his life tangled in the web of time and leaving holes and breaks across its surface. There too was her young master, angry and bitter and harsh, and two heroes whose fingers had never borne her strength; a hero whose power had forged his own blade and another who’d yet to find her in his desolate world.

Could a sword spirit sing in more than battle, she would have cried her thanks to the goddesses for a chance to see all of her masters, both claimed and not, gathered. Something stirred in her, although what it was was anyone’s guess, and no calculations and algorithms could determine its source, but Fi would smile as she danced in battle on her Master’s fingertips, protecting those that she had failed and who had been called too young, with the aid of one who she had grown and learned with.

It was her honor to aid them, to travel at their backs and to protect them from the darkness that followed and attacked them. To cleanse evil from their forms and return them too how they ought to have been. But her joy came when at last she could see her heroes connect.

A battle gone wrong, a misstep from one of the heroes and Master had been gravely injured, left unable to carry her and leaving her to be held and wielded by another until he was healed. There was arguing for who had a right, for who had a cause and who would wield her best, but at last she was landing in familiar hands, ones that fingered the etching on her hilt with a knowing and bitter look, but who treated her kindly as he pulled her baldric and sheath over his thin shoulders and followed along behind.

She should have kept silent, she ought to have. She had not spoken to any but the first and the last of her many masters, but she was unable to prevent it when she heard the thoughts of her Young Master.

It’s not like Sky’s actually just my Great-grandfather or something like that, he’s just... I just... I don’t want him to scold me is all. The royal family doesn’t last that long, Hyrule is wrong.

Since watching Master re-unite with the Spirit Maiden, she had not known such curiosity and -maybe it was joy- at hearing the thoughts of one of the heroes that had wielded her.

“So, you are Master’s offspring?”

Despite how the young hero -one of her favorites and the dearest to her soul, beside his ancestor in what might pass as her heart- might complain, she knew he found comfort in hearing her voice. It brought something to stir within her as well.

After centuries of silence, yet from master’s time no time at all, she was freed from silence and able, again, to converse with one of those to which she had been bound for eternity, and through him, Master.

Sword Spirit’s weren’t supposed to have favorites. But the pink-haired child that bore the Gift of Hearing and Understanding, be it animal, plant or spirit voices that he spoke to, was the connection to herself and her Master, a Link, if she might dare jest, to both her past and future, and to the heroes who she had been promised to protect. He stood beside the Chosen Hero in her memory, a favorite. And she too must have been dear to him, why else would he take such care to keep his mark on her hilt, a poorly scrawled name, only four letters, but ones that meant everything.

L-I-N-K.

The mark of ownership. A claim. A promise, and one that she would also keep and honor in kind.

She was her Master’s Sword, but she was also the blade of his descendent, and if pride could be felt by the Goddess’s blade, then Fi would have been bursting with it.

#lu fi #lu legend #lu sky #lu warriors #lu time #lu twilight #lu wild #lu wind #linkeduniverse #linked universe #the ties that bind #the blood between us compliant #fi #the master sword #i have feelings okay?#fi deserved better #fi angst

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sunmoonandeddie · 3 years

Text

edge of the devil’s backbone

pairing: knight!bucky barnes x princess!reader

word count: 4,918

summary: Your knight has sworn to protect you always, even if that means committing a grave sin.

warnings: Smut, cussing, violence, murder, angst with a happy ending.

a/n: Lol I really hope you enjoy this. Bucky is kinda dark but?? Not really??? Also, I suggest listening to Devil’s Backbone by The Civil Wars while you read this.

It’s midnight when he slips into my room, Selene’s soft light guiding him to the bed where I lay, dozing peacefully amongst my mountain of pillows.

A slumber he hates to disrupt, but knows that he must.

To leave me without a word, without a goodbye and a promise to return one day when he can, would be the utmost betrayal to the delicate heart he holds in his hands.

“Princess,” he whispers. Slinking through the room like a cat, he manages to not make a single noise loud enough to wake me. It is not until his fingers gently brush against my cheek that my eyes flutter open.

“James? What’s going on?” I ask, brows furrowing as I slowly push myself up on my elbows. One hand holds the blanket to my chest, as though it’s anything he hasn’t seen before.

James is… familiar with my nightgowns, to say the least.

“I have to go,” he whispers, his hand shaking as he cups my cheek. “I have to go before they catch me.”

“What?” I lean into his touch instinctively, not even thinking about the strange wetness on his fingers that I feel. “What do you mean? What did you do?” When my eyes adjust to the light, I realize what he means.

James’s white undershirt is stained with blood, the hot liquid smeared across his cheek like it is on mine now.

Letting out a squeak of alarm, I rush to look him over, trying to find any injuries to speak of. “What happened?! Are you okay?!”

“I killed him.”

I freeze, my hands pressing against his body through the thin fabric of his shirt. Despite the chill of the oncoming winter, he is so, so warm. Even with the knowledge he has given me, there is nothing I want to do more than drag him closer and make him cocoon himself around me to keep the cold away. There is nothing that could ever make me not love him anymore. Even murder. I would still run to his embrace and spend the rest of eternity in his arms.

A foolish dream, considering our stations.

Even though James does love me the way I love him, my father would never allow a union between the two of us. James has been my personal guard since I was young, barely five years old. A peasant boy granted the honor of training to be a knight because he had found me after I had been kidnapped by bandits and kept for a ransom. He’d just been fourteen at the time, and braver and smarter than my father’s entire army.

But no, none of that matters. According to father, princesses must marry princes, who will make good kings.

Anyone with any sense could see that James was worth more than every prince and king put together.

“You killed him? What him?” I ask, rushing to get out of bed to grab a rag. I wet it carefully before moving to his side to gently clean off his face. Even though I want answers, that doesn’t matter as much as getting him presentable again.

But he pushes my hand away, his sea blue eyes glimmering with something that causes a pit to form in my stomach. “My princess… My love… I have to go,” he says, taking my hands in his and squeezing. “I killed Prince Brock, and they will know it was me come morning. I have to go…”

“James, don’t be ridiculous,” I scold as I try to start cleaning him off again, tugging to get his ruined shirt off. “You need to change. We’ll make it so they’ll have no idea it was you.”

James whispers my name, his bloody hand coming up to cup my cheek as though I am made of glass. “They will know it was me, and regardless if they didn’t, the king would still pin it on me… My affection for you is not exactly the world’s best kept secret… And we both know how the maids like to gossip…”

Tears prick my eyes, and I shake my head desperately. “No. No. You cannot leave, I forbid it!” I say, clutching onto him desperately. “James, you cannot leave me. Please, don’t leave me.” My throat is suddenly dry and tight, my heart pounding within my chest so hard that I am sure I will not make it out without a few broken ribs.

A small price to pay if only my knight will stay by my side.

“You have stayed by my side for sixteen years, do not leave me now,” I order, trying to put on my most commanding voice. I have been practicing for when I eventually become queen, but it has never ever worked on my most precious knight.

A choked laugh tears from James’s throat. It’s harsh and broken, a far cry from the usual melody that I chase after. “My love… If I do not leave now, they will have me in the gallows by noon,” he says quietly, his forehead pressing against mine. “Or worse, on the chopping block like a hen ready for the feast.”

I try to push the images from my mind, tears freely flowing down my cheeks. “No. No, they won’t know it was you. Please, don’t leave me… Or at least take me with you… Please…”

“I need you to promise me something, princess,” he says as both his hands hold my face, his calloused thumbs rubbing against the tender skin under my eyes to get rid of wayward tears. “If they catch me… If I am sentenced to death… Do not watch. Do not watch them hang me or draw and quarter me or behead me, whatever it is, I forbid you. Do you hear me? I said, do you hear me?!”

“They can’t kill you, I won’t let them,” I sob, still somehow trying to get him to stay. “I’m the princess, they have to listen to me.”

I have not gone a single day without seeing him in over sixteen years, and I do not plan to now.

But it seems as though there is nothing I can do to stop him.

The silk of my nightgown slides against my skin as I trace his features with my fingers. “Will you come back to me?” I ask desperately after he denies my request another time. “Once it is safe, will you please come back to me? Come home? I cannot live without you, without knowing you will come back to me one day…”

“I will,” he says reassuringly as he takes one of my hands and presses kisses over each fingertip, each neatly trimmed nail, each line in my palm. “I will… I swear to you… But I could not let him live after today in the garden…”

“I am not angry with you,” I whisper reassuringly as I watch him, trying my best to memorize even the smallest of details. “You swore to protect me… from anyone and everyone…”

“And I shall always keep my promise.” He says it with such conviction, with such a fire in his eyes. He always had, which is partially why I am not surprised that he punished the prince for his crimes against me.

When it comes to my safety, my happiness, James is the judge, jury, and executioner.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

A growl rumbles in his throat as he pulls me closer, letting his eyes shut as he allows himself the comfort of knowing that Prince Brock had not gotten far enough to truly hurt me, to permanently mark me. “I told him that nobody who touches you without your permission gets to keep their hands. He didn’t believe me until about an hour or so ago,” he grumbles.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, I can’t fight the giggle that erupts from my lips. “My hero…,” I murmur as I look up at him. As my eyes meet his, I am reminded that he needs to leave. “I will miss you… Please… Try to find some way to write to me…”

“I will,” James says, his nose nudging against mine. His blue eyes sparkle with tears as he swallows around the lump in his throat. “Steven knows I am leaving… He knows what I have done. He is the one you can trust with your safety now, the only man I trust with your life, and he is outside your door now.” Chapped lips press against my forehead for a lingering moment. “I will write to him, and he will get the letters to you. I swear on my life, princess.”

“Before you go…” I take a deep breath. “Before you go, will you grant me a kiss? Just one…”

It is a request he does not think hard about, grabbing my face and kissing me so gently I think I may wither away from the sheer tenderness. “I love you,” he says, stealing another kiss from my lips, over and over again.

It seems that now that he has started, he cannot stop.

Or will not.

I will not argue either away.

“I love you… I love you more than words can say, James,” I say, fingers tangling in his long hair.

“I must take my leave, my darling… my dearest,” he breathes out. “Before dawn comes and the lark sings…” He stands, his weight disappearing from the bed, and a pang hits my heart. “You must get sleep, my sweet nightingale. Once they realize what has happened and that I have disappeared, they will question you for hours, I am sure, if not all day. But rest well knowing that when you wake, I will be safe and waiting until I may come back for you.”

Tears roll down my cheeks as I hold onto his hand for as long as possible. “I cannot watch you leave,” I whisper as I squeeze my eyes shut.

“You don’t have to, my love,” he says soothingly, pressing a kiss to my hair. “Rest… I will be home to you before you can even miss me…”

His hand slips from mine, and I do not hear him leave the room. “James, please don’t leave me!” I say as I open my eyes, thinking he was still there.

But he had slipped through the door without a sound and left me alone in my cold bed.

My dearest,

It has been a month since I left you, and it has been the hardest month of my entire life. I did not have the time to write to you until now because I was unable to get my hands on some parchment and a quill, and I had some trouble finding some place where your father and King Alexander could not reach me.

I cannot risk telling you precisely where I have had the luck to find myself, on the off chance that the letter is intercepted. I cannot see why it would be, as it is carefully hidden with a letter written to Steven, but considering the man that I know your father can be…

Well, I am aware that I shall not need to explain more than that.

What I can tell you is that the sea here is beautiful. The journey here was hard, filled with storms and a tumultuous sea, but it was worth it. Though, it would be much better if you were with me to see it, my love, but you already know that. Seeing the sun rise on the blue water—Water clearer than any I have ever seen before!—made me hopeful for the first time since I left your side. In fact, the dress that you wore to your father’s last birthday feast is the exact shade of the sea here. The soft sand reminds me of the gold trim, the white diamonds embedded in the leather…

Do you see what you have done to me, my love? I miss you so, my heart longing to see you again, to hold you, that I have started to wax poetic about your gowns.

I cannot start on the way the flowers here remind me of the scarlet rouge you use to stain your cheeks and your sweet lips or I shall never stop. But, I have dreamed of your lips each night, of the way that my name falls like a prayer, of the way you told me you love me… I dream of kissing you again. More mornings than not, I wake with tears on my cheeks because of the need I feel to have you close again. I had waited for so many years to finally tell you how I feel, despite knowing the way we both felt it, and the night that I did, I had to leave.

It feels like a tragedy from one of those books you like to read so much.

One of the sailors on the ship guessed that I had left a woman behind that had broken my heart, and he told me that time would heal the gaping wound. It was all I could do to explain to him that I had been the one to break both of our hearts, and that time could do nothing because I am counting the days until I may run to you again.

Time may also do nothing because of the depth of my adoration for you.

I wish that I could tell you where I am so that I may receive a letter in return. I hope you do not regret what happened the night I left, the kiss.

I hope you will still want me, still love me, when I return to you.

All of my love,

Your James

My dearest,

It has been a year since I have seen you last, since I left your side, and I fear I am on the verge of dying if I cannot get a glimpse of your sweet face soon.

Despite writing to you every few weeks, I feel as though there is so much more I can say. Every tiny little thing that occurs during my days, I wish to tell you. I wish to tell you so you do not think that I am at the taverns, flirting with every wench that I set my eyes on. Despite the way they bat their eyes, they can do nothing to even catch a glimpse from me because I am always picturing you.

Have you thought of me since that night? I imagine you have had to, since I am writing to you and I am sure that Steven is getting these to you. He may be a dunce in some things, but he is generally a capable man.

When I saw you in your bed that night, slumbering so peacefully, my first thought was that you looked like an angel. I had been worried that I would be scared to touch you, to even set my eyes upon you, after what I had done. But all I felt was reassurance that I had done the right thing.

I still cannot apologize enough for leaving you alone in that garden for so long. Despite knowing that it technically wasn’t my fault, considering that the king had called for me to discuss the journey back home, I am wracked with guilt. I should have had a servant fetch Steven to take my place while I was gone before I left. But, I was naïve enough to assume that the palace guards that were present in the garden would protect a princess, even from their prince.

Coming back and seeing you so upset, panicking as he gripped your soft, sweet body hard enough to bruise… I had realized when I looked at you that you thought I had abandoned you.

I hope you know that no matter where I am, I have not abandoned you. I could never leave you forever, my dearest.

Your handkerchief no longer smells like you. I had swiped it from your room as I left, needing something to comfort me on my journey. I sleep with it pressed to my nose so that I may see you in my dreams. But now it has lost your scent, and I have been on a search to find the perfume that you wear so that I may buy a bottle and need not worry about it losing your scent again, but alas, I have not been able to come across it.

I fear it would not smell exactly like you anyway, my love, and I would simply be disappointed.

I have pressed a few more flower petals to send to you, but I may not be able to send them again for a while, as winter will be here soon. Even in this warm kingdom, it brings a chill that withers the flowers and crops. Until then, I shall send you as many as possible.

All of my love,

Your James

My dearest,

It has been two years to the day, and I can only pray to whatever gods that I will be able to be with you forever soon.

Did you get my present? I snuck into the palace after deciding that I couldn’t wait much longer to see you. Even if I was not able to speak to you, just seeing your angelic face as you slept gave me a moment of peace. My heavy heart was lightened.

You may need to hide the letters I write you better, it only took me seconds to find your hiding spot. Of course, your father doesn’t know you as well as I do, so he most likely won’t think to check behind your mirror.

The necklace I left on your pillow is inlaid with pure opals and diamonds. I had never heard of opal, I must admit, until I found my way here. It is a great source of pride in this kingdom. I knew the second I saw it that you would look absolutely stunning in it.

Perhaps you will wear it on our wedding day.

Every day I grow fearful that your father will find another suitor for you and force you to marry him before I can make it back to you. I know how adept you are at avoiding the princes and lords that he shoves in your direction, but what can I say? To see you with another man, even if you did not truly wish to be with him, would kill me.

I have been on a ship again for the last few weeks, so unfortunately there is not much to write to you about. But please, know that you are in my thoughts every moment of every day.

All of my love,

Your James

My dearest,

I have just gotten the news of your father’s passing.

I am on my way home to you.

All of my love,

Your James

I sigh as I sit on the throne—my throne. Mere hours before, I had been crowned as the new queen of my kingdom.

The scepter is heavy in my hand, the cold metal seeming to burn my skin. How can I do this on my own?

My father raised me to be a queen, a wife, but not to rule. I was raised to be the queen to a king, to support the man I end up marrying as he rules the kingdom.

But the only man I will ever marry is not here.

Steven is standing beside the throne, his hands clasped behind his back. He has been good to me the last few years, as I have waited desperately for the day that my love, my true knight, will come home to me. “You are troubled,” he says quietly as the both of us watch the nobility dance in magical patterns that draw the eye and lift the spirits. “You should be excited, Your Majesty. Today is a day of great celebration.”

“He isn’t here,” I say. It’s all I need to. His last letter is pressed against my breast, hidden inside my gown. The necklace he left for me is heavy around my neck, the precious jewels glinting in the light. “He said he was coming so where is he?”

The prince that had been seeking my hand before my father died is present, his gaze continuously finding me as he slowly works his way closer. Over the past weeks, I’ve been able to avoid his advances with claims of my grief.

As if I could ever truly grieve a man as cruel as my father.

“It is possible his ship may have been caught in a storm,” Steven comments, trying to soothe my anger. He has seen how unstable my emotions can be when James is not close by. “He will be here. You know he will, my queen.”

I am growing more and more annoyed as I realize that I will soon be expected to join the dancing. But dancing is the last thing I want to do without my love there.

Beside me, Steven tenses, and I watch as his blue eyes flit around the room. “Interesting…,” he says under his breath, almost too low for me to hear.

“What is it?” I ask, sitting up a little straighter.

“It appears that your latest suitor has disappeared.”

What? Brows furrowing, I look around the room, pointedly searching for Prince Quentin for once. Sure, he is a handsome man, but his blue eyes are forgettable when I compare them to James’s. “Well, perhaps he found some maid to consort with in the gardens,” I say with an eye roll, quickly giving up on the search. “It is not as though he is getting any sort of connection from me. Let him have his fun.”

Steven snorts, his head dipping for a moment. “I think it is time for you to join the dancing,” he says simply, in a tone that makes me wonder what he has up his sleeve.

He knows something that he is not telling me.

“Fine,” I say with a glare in his direction, getting to my feet. I hand my new scepter off to the servant who has immediately rushed to my side, the song currently floating in the air coming to an end. A new one begins as I step into the fray, easily joining the dance.

I am so swept away in the swirling skirts and joyous laughter of the crowd that I do not notice the man that had joined the dancers on the other side.

Passing from partner to partner, I keep a fake smile plastered on my face and absentmindedly nod with everything that is said to me.

“It has been a long time, my love.”

My eyes snap up to focus on the man whose arms I have just been passed into, and my heart stops inside of my chest. “James?” I breathe out. My eyes well up with tears just at the sight of his loving face, his sea blue eyes sparkling in the bright light of the ballroom. “James, is it really you?”

His smile is almost blinding, and I realize that his own eyes are glassy as well. “It is me, my princess. Or should I say, my queen?” Despite the rest of the people around us switching partners, he refuses to let me go, his hand tight on my hip and the other holding my hand firm. “I saw your coronation this morning. You looked radiant. You still do, my dearest…”

I barely notice the world around me as I watch his tongue flick out between his teeth to wet his chapped lips. “You were there?”

“Of course I was,” he chuckles, his large hand squeezing my hip. “Do you really believe that I could ever even risk missing your coronation, sweetheart?” Feeling the crowd’s stares, he leans in a little. “Meet me in the garden in a few moments. By the gazebo.”

Twirling in time with the music, my heart sinks as I am passed to the next partner and the next. My hands are trembling with the fear that he could disappear again. Logically, I know that he won’t. But after spending so many years away from him…

“Go,” Steven says after I finally break away at the end of the dance. “He is waiting for you.”

I don’t need to be told twice. As I make my way to the corridor to slip out to the gardens, I have to reassure several servants that I am alright, but just escaping for a fresh breath of air.

The gazebo he told me to meet him at is further back in the garden, out of view from any of the palace windows. His dark figure stands at one of the railings, looking out at the ocean. The necklace around my neck burns as I take a moment to look at him, really look at him. His hair is longer than it was when he left, and stubble lines his face.

Did he shave just for me?

I like the thought of him preparing to see me, nervously checking his appearance in the mirror. Perhaps he bought a new jacket and waistcoat in his excitement.

“James?”

He turns to look at me immediately, a smile brightening his face, and I feel as though I am a teenager again, fresh with the feelings of love and adoration. “My dearest…” He does not waste any time as he pulls me close, his lips slotting against mine and his hands roaming over my body. “I have missed you… I have dreamt of you each night.”

And I know that anyone could come out and see us at any moment. And I know that the gossip would run rampant and the possible alliance with Prince Quentin’s kingdom could crumble.

But I do not care.

I have been craving his touch for years, praying to the gods he would come home and hold me just as he is doing now.

“I need you. I need you, James,” I say as my hands tug at his jacket and push it off his shoulders, going for his waistcoat next.

Thankfully, he does not argue. “You’ve dreamt of this as much as me,” he says in relief as he unties my corset enough to tug it down to reveal my chest to him. James chuckles as he catches his letter as it falls. “You kept this so close to your heart, my love.” Seeing the letter only makes him more ravenous, his lips attaching to my neck as he works his breeches down.

Pain runs through me as he sits and pulls me on top of him, finally joining our bodies together, but I don’t take the time to care. The glory of finally being with him is far greater than any pain I could ever feel.

We are so tangled that you cannot tell where one of us ends and the other begins as he moves me, taking his pleasure and granting me my own.

“You’re mine,” he growls, nipping at my neck. “That sorry excuse for a prince thought he could touch you. Thought he would ever be worthy enough for you.”

It suddenly occurs to me that his arrival and Prince Quentin’s disappearance were correlated, and I see a drop of blood on his white undershirt.

It tears a moan from my throat.

The knowledge that a man as powerful, as strong, as my knight would protect me in such a dangerous manner, so desperately, sends a jolt down my spine. The fact that he is willing to go to the ends of the earth, to commit such a sin…

It is delicious.

The dagger he must have used glints in the low light of the moon as it rests on the stone floor, having fallen from his breeches when they’d been torn down. The sharp edge is crusted with a dark red, almost brown substance.

“I am all yours. I have always been yours, my knight,” I say as my fingers tangle in his hair and pull, our lips locking. “I love you. I love you so. I cannot breathe without you.”

“I am never leaving you again. Never.” His teeth grab onto my lower lip as he picks up the pace, grinning as he glances down to watch my body. “Fuck… It’s even better than I dreamed of. I love you so much, my queen.”

My release is fast and hard, knocking the breath out of my lungs as I cling to him, my nails scratching at his back and creating a rip in his shirt. “JAMES!”

James is quick to follow, his hips jerking as he reaches his peak and spills inside of me. “Perhaps you will become heavy with my child,” he whispers as he steals another kiss, tenderly fixing my dress before helping me stand and dressing himself. “Perhaps we will have a little prince or princess on the way.”

“Well…” A smile spreads over my face as I cup his cheeks, running my fingers over the dark stubble. He would look so delectable with a beard. “In case you have not been informed, I have been made queen… And I decree that you are to be my king.”

A laugh bubbles in his chest as he pulls me close once more, dipping me low and kissing me something fierce. “Your wish is my command, my dearest.”

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes royalty au

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seodami · 3 years

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Dearest treasure | KTH

Summary: Every kid in town was afraid of Kang Taehyun, the old -slightly creepy- man living alone for years and years in the same run down house. Every night he would go into his backyard with a shovel and dig a hole into the earth. No one knows why and there are kids rumouring about him burying people. Jungwon was a bright kid, wanting to find out the truth behind this widely spread rumour for a school project. And what he found out would change his life forever.

Genre: fluff, angst, flashbacks, story of life, snippets of life, tiny bit humour

Warning: old Taehyun, mention of death, mention of suicide/suicidal thoughts, death

Word count: 10152 (all 3 parts)

Pairing: Kang Taehyun x reader, (Yang Jungwon)

Note: Wow okay so this story took me a while to write and I listened to hours of das music to finish this🥺 this was honestly an emotional rollercoaster. But I’m so glad it’s finally finished so I can post it on here yayyy!!! I hope you like it an enjoooyy (please tell me if you cried I would really appreciate your responses haha bc I did)

Main masterlist

2089 (present)

Deathly silence hung in the air as thick as smog. In Jungwons eyes pooled tears, ready to spill over the edges to fall into free fall and drop heavily onto his trousers. His heart was burning, not finding any suitable words of comfort or understanding for the old man in front of him. His throat felt like it was tied up so tightly, he couldn’t breathe. Oh, how didn’t he know? Oh, how could anyone talk bad behind his back? So much hurt…

Mr. Kangs head hung low, not daring to make any other noice than his sniffling nose. Hot tear drops were silently dropping down, it felt suffocating just watching him so full of hurt and sorrow. Suddenly Jungwon felt sorry to let him relive his whole life together with the terrible pain even the young boy could feel.

“I- I…I never could…forgive myself. It was my fault-“ the once handsome mans face was dark and the wrinkles now seemingly even deeper full of regrets and unspoken words. “You wouldn’t understand, boy-“

Jungwon couldn’t form any appropriate words at that moment and let the sadness let him take away just for a little longer. His story was heavy… he felt like he just heard something he shouldn’t have heard. Something so private and fragile. It had touched him more than he had thought.

“I didn’t want to live anymore… it was all worthless since then… I had no motivation to keep going.” His voice became a tad more stable, yet still quiet and weak. His tired eyes met the innocent boys and for a second the old man could see his younger self inside his big brown eyes. Sadness and nostalgia rolled over him and he averted his gaze.

“I tried ending my life many times since that day- it never worked no matter how much I wanted it… and then I just…I just mouldered…alone, broken- and just a shell of my old self. I wasn’t the once happy, bright, clever boy anymore. I could never be that again…”

Jungwons heart felt heavy, breathing wasn’t bearable. His hands unconsciously reached forward to the tiny lost figure sitting in his sunken mould. It was a simple touch but for Mr. Kang it was the first reassuring and comforting gesture he had received in a long long time. It made him tear up stronger, still staying silent. The young boy wanted to be there for the old man. He wanted to show him that he wasn’t alone in this.

Moments of depressing, yet healing silence passed, just the ticking of the old clock in the dark living room was heard. “I’m so sorry Mr. Kang…” Jungwon finally whispered, unsure if the man spoken to even heard it. He couldn’t do much but be there in this moment. Quite honestly he felt like crying himself. But he wanted to stay strong for him.

“One day-“ Mr. Kangs voice shook a little but he kept talking. “-I remembered the time capsule. My dearest treasure. So long ago. And I made it my life mission to find it. One last moment to hold onto and…look back to.” A thick single tear slowly rolled down Jungwons cheek. So that was it. That’s why… and everyone had dragged the vulnerable man down, putting even more dirt into his deep wounds.

“I-I searched everywhere. But…but i just…forgot. It’s my last wish before I finish this…” life he wanted to say. Finish his life. It made the school boy unbelievable sad. Oh how much he must’ve suffered his whole life. And before Jungwon could’ve decided differently, a strong feeling of wanting to help and support creeped up to him.

“I’m gonna help you Mr. Kang. We will find your treasure.” Jungwon reassuringly took the heavy, wrinkled hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. It was the first time since that day, that he felt hope again. Just a tiny tiny splinter but it was there. Hope.

The next hours, both of the males digged holes through the whole garden, not saving any sweat, too focused on finding the mans greatest desire. Mr. Kang had already reached his limit after three holes, following with the 14 year old boy leading him towards an old wooden garden bench to rest on. Jungwon on the other hand was full of verve and energy to fulfill his dearest wish. To find his dearest treasure. Mr. Kang watched him with surprise and thankfulness, never had anyone gone all the way out to help him with something so important to him. There was never someone who he could’ve went to. After that day, he had broken off all the contact with his old friends. He wanted to feel alone at some point. He deserved the pain. That’s what he had always told himself. But now he was old and weak and just wanted nothing more than to be finally reunited with his beloved family. He missed you everyday. He heard his daughters laughters everyday. And he saw his son running around outside in the garden everyday. He finally wanted to be with his family everyday.

It had already gotten dark and cold at this point, Mr. Kang had brought the hard working boy a jacket and a warm tea. The sun was already long gone, just the small lights from the veranda and from the street shined over towards them. Jungwon was still digging, his once tidy school clothes now full of dirt and dust and drenched in sweat. He couldn’t give up. He knew that. So he kept digging and digging. The moon was fondly watching at the pair below, shining just a tad brighter tonight for them. Short friendly small talk about school went quickly over to heartfelt conversations about life and this and that. Nobody, not even the moon, would’ve thought that the bitter, lonely 87 year old Taehyun and the bright, cheerful 14 year old Jungwon would’ve ever even crossed paths, yet life showed again how unpredictable and full of surprises it could be. This night, a tight bond between the two men was woven. So unexpected but yet so lovely.

The clock already told them it was 6 minutes before midnight when another noice cut through the silent night air. A metallic sound. Gasping, Jungwon threw the shovel away, excitement now rushing through his veins. He fell onto his knees, not caring about the moist soil on his trousers. His hands digged through the last part, brown earth now sticking behind his nails, and moments later, he pulled out a medium sized metal box, securely wrapped in plastic. Jungwon felt like he just won the Olympics, he felt like he did it. He did it…

A quick gaze onto the bench showed him the sleeping old man, now seeming even tinier than before. With shaky steps and a weird feeling of proudness and fulfilment, Jungwon waddled over to the sleeping form, gently waking him up. The box in his hands was tightly in his grasp, not letting go. Mr. Kangs heavy lidded eyes flew open in an instant when he saw the metal box in the boys arms. Tears burned in his thankful eyes, reaching towards it with shaking arms. Everything felt heavy, yet his heart felt the lightest it had felt in a long long time.

“Thank you…so much.” Tears were now unstoppable rolling down his cheeks. It squeezed Jungwons heart, knowing he could make this man happy again, fulfilling his last wish. The both of them moved up to the house again, warmth engulfing them with its now familiar scent. Comfort. The old man reassured the boy to stay but seeing the box being opened, Jungwon felt as if he got to see something way too private. But he stayed, looking over the sniffling mans shoulder when he pulled out a small pink toy dolphin. His hands were shaking. “This was my daughters. It was her favorite toy when she was…two years old.”

Taehyuns heart clenched, seeing all his treasures in front of him. He desperately pressed the small toy against his chest, letting all his emotions in. It was intense, yet it was all he ever wanted. Seeing the familiar drawings of a green giraffe, sitting on a cloud with a family next to it. He could read all their names above the figures. Oh Taehee…

Looking through the photographs, old memories surfaced and made the man tear up even heavier. He didn’t knew how much he really had missed them. It was as if his empty shell was slowly filled again, reliving all of your best and worst moments. He saw a picture on his old friends Hueningkais 18th birthday. All of his friends were there, cake smeared all across your faces, the brightest smiles someone could ever see. The day he had first met you… Another picture had all of your friends sitting around a small bonfire, being cuddled inside blankets. Taehyun saw his younger handsome self smiling unsure into the camera with you sitting beside him. He could only laugh sadly at the memories of your camping trip where he first had kissed you, the guilty feeling just as clear.

“She looks so happy here…” Taehyun noticed with a testy smile, gently touching your face on the picture, seeing you and him laying on a bed, arms tightly slung around your frame, as you held the camera. His large eyes showed nothing but the purest form of love as he looked over to you. Oh he was such a lovesick fool. “You were a pretty couple…” Jungwon whispered, glancing over the handsome young man and the pretty women. He wished to find someone in his life later, he could look at with just as much love as he did. Taehyun nodded, pulling out the next photo. It was the two of you kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower in Paris, big smiles on both of your faces. Taehyun remembered, it was when he courageously decided to fly around half the globe to you to fix your relationship. He didn’t want to give you up, thank god he didn’t. Another photograph showed you holding your first ultrasound picture, tears streaming down your face. You were both so young and already on the way to becoming parents. It was scary, yes it was one of the most scary moments in life but it was all worth it. The next picture showed you in the hospital bed, looking weak, yet happy. Taehyun was kneeing down next to you, his gaze focused on you and the tiny newborn baby in four arms. A tear dropped down onto the photo but he quickly wiped it away. “Our little Taehee…”

The next picture showed a kissing couple dressed in a gorgeous white dress and a neat black suit. The priest between them was smiling fondly at the newlywed couple. On another one he could see the couple dancing in midst of their guests, white petals laying all over the place. Taehyun sobbed, holding a hand over his mouth. Jungwons hand reassuringly squeezed his shoulder. He was there for him. Taehyuns and your parents were dancing next to you, he could see his friend Yeonjun and Beomgyu dancing with each other playfully and many more of their closest circle. It had been so long. And he missed it. It was such a happy memory.

There were other photographs with you being pregnant, both of your baby pictures, your friends and your parents and a ton of little Taehee running around bubbly in her adorable dresses and overalls. Taehyun hadn’t seen these pictures in a while and it tore his heart into a million pieces. The last picture was inside your new house, the house he never could bring over him to leave. You were all sitting on the carpet, smiling into the camera. The little baby boy snuggling closer in his blanket and the girl pressing a soft kiss onto his tiny head. Taehyuns arms were slung around your frame, head laying on your shoulder relaxing. They were so happy. So happy.

He pulled out an edition of your favorite book with a hand written text inside: ‘For Taehee and Taejun- may they find wisdom and happiness in their long lives. From mum and dad’ Taehyun remembered. Oh he remembered everything. You two would always read this book together since your honeymoon, where you discovered it in one of the local bookstores. Since then it had always be your favorite book. And it hurt him seeing his children never got to read it. Their future was just robbed because of one moment. It was unfair. Why did he get to live when they couldn’t? He never understood.

The last thing Taehyun pulled out of the box was the pink letter littered with dozen of glitter stickers. ‘To my love’ stood on top of it in your cursive handwriting. He gulped, knowing exactly this was made for him personally. It was the letter he dreaded reading. The moment he waited for. The reason he wanted to find this box in the first place. His love. Jungwon stood stiff and still next to him, not daring to say a word. With shaking fingers, he carefully opened the envelope without tearing it. He could immediately recognise your pretty handwriting and already teared up when he read over the first sentence. ‘To my dear love Taehyun, whom I always love’ with another nod, he dared reading through the heartfelt letter.

‘So this is where life led us, what? To be quite honest with you, my 17 year old me would’ve never thought about marrying the handsome boy from Hueningkais birthday party, let alone have his children and buy our first house together. Life went wild with us, am I right Tae? But I regret nothing. Not even when I stole your favorite hoodie out of your closet without you knowing. Everyone was so done with my reckless personality and I often felt misunderstood in my younger days as you know. But you just always seemed to just see the best in me. Even when I felt like giving it all up. You were always there for me. And you were the only one to fully understand and accept me how I am. This is something I never told you in person but I can’t remember how life was without you before. In my mind, you were always there and I know that you will always be there for our family in our long future. I hope when you read this, we are both still happily married, watching our children and grandchildren laugh about all our ridiculous photos inside this box. And Taehee, oh she must be so happy to see her favorite toy again haha. Taehyun, you are my best friend, my first love, my first heartache, my true soulmate and the best husband in the whole world. You are and will always be my love, no matter how time will turn our lives around. We are always together. I love you always,

Your dearest wife Y/N

(P.S. don’t worry about getting old, you are still my handsome prince I fell in love with!)’

At this point, Taehyun was a sobbing mess, not caring what the young boy might think of him. This letter had touched his soul, his deepest heart. He felt every word you’ve written just as if it was you whispering each of them into his ear. He never felt the urge that strong before to be by your side, hug you, kiss you all over your face, tell you how beautiful you were and whisper how much he loved you and would forever. His life made sense only with his family by his side. There was nothing left to live anymore for Taehyun. And he knew that for a long time already.

Jungwon in this moment didn’t knew what to do anymore. He felt like he had fulfilled his mission, making the old man happy for a last time. With quiet steps, he took his video camera, he totally had forgotten and put it in his backpack laying on the floor abandoned. It was his sign to leave, let the man dwell in his emotions and memories. He was done here. With careful steps he went closer to the sobbing man again, softly putting his hand on his shoulder. He looked up as if he knew what the boy was about to say.

A small smile was on his wrinkled lips, clenching on the boys heart. He weakly pushed himself up just to pull the sweaty, in dirt covered student into a warm embrace. It was the first hug since ages it felt like. The hug remembered Jungwon of his own grandmother and tears stuck in his throat. He missed her. “Thank you so much, Jungwon. You are a wonderful kid. You’ve fulfilled my dearest wish. I will forever be thankful to you. May you be blessed forever. You were the only one willing to listen. Thank you.” Jungwon nodded in his shoulder, trying not to burst into tears on the spot but failed nevertheless in the end. He was so glad seeing the happy man in front of him, now seeming even younger than before. The deep sunken eyes didn’t seem frightening anymore. They were warm and welcoming. He could see sparkles of youth inside them. Yes, Jungwon did the right thing.

When the clock showed sharply half an hour past midnight, Jungwon bid his farewell to the man, he weirdly would consider his friend now, knowing he could sleep well tonight. Taehyun insisted on him keeping the jacket he gave him as well as one of the pictures inside the box for his school project and as a token of gratitude. On his quiet walk back home, he smiled endearingly down to the old photograph he carefully held in his hand. It was the last picture. Where the family of four smiled happily into the camera, sitting onto the fluffy rug Jungwon recognised now. He would treasure this picture forever. It was a generous gift, knowing how important it had been to Mr. Kang. He was so thankful.

The next day, Jungwon excitedly presented his project in class. Even though his mother yelled at him concerned where he was until this late, he managed to edit the video for his project, tearing up in the process but still felt motivated to keep going. It was important that he made this his best project. Not for him or his grade, no, it was for Mr. Kang. He was determined to change everyone’s horrible opinion about the old man.

It was eye opening for everyone. Even Park Jongsong, the scary older student, couldn’t come up with a counter attack and stared wide eyed at the screen in front of the class. It was freeing, knowing that just a bit of courage and kindness could lead you to such wonderful moments. He changed everyone’s opinion about ‘Killer Kang’. And he managed to make an old sad man happy again.

After school, the kind student hurried over to Mr. Kangs house. In bright daylight, the garden looked like a battlefield with tons and tons of freshly digged soil laying all around. Now with a much happier feeling, Jungwon crossed the chaotic lawn, knocking energetically onto the old wodden door. After a while he still hadn’t heard any steps so he tried knocking again. “Mr. Kang? It’s Jungwon. I wanted to show you the finished project. It went amazing.” The boy excitedly bounced on the balls of his feet, too giddy to stand still. There was still no answer, so Jungwon made his way towards the backyard, now being familiar with every inch. He had a weird feeling in the pit of his stomache.

And when he saw the open veranda, the old man sitting in his mould on the old couch, Jungwon let out a relieved breath. With careful steps not to step inside one of the many holes in the ground, he made its way over to Mr. Kang, not without knocking on the wall outside. Still no answer. Maybe he hasn’t heard it or he was sleeping. Jungwon waddled over to the familiar couch, seeing Mr. Kang sitting in his usual spot with his eyes closed. He looked so peaceful, Jungwon first thought the old man was sleeping tightly. Yet when there was still no answers or reactions from his side and when he noticed there was no movement of his upper body, he understood…

Mr. Kang passed away last night. Tears welled up in Jungwons eyes and he heavily let them flow when he saw all the contents of the metallic box scattered around the small desk in front of him. The photos, sorted into time accuracy, the book untouched, the adorable drawings of his young daughter, the green giraffe smiling cheekily at him. The pink letter was open and the neat handwriting was still the same as yesterday. And in Mr. Kangs hands, layed the pink toy dolphin.

Jungwon went onto his knees beside him on the fluffy carpet, letting his hot tears fall freely without restrictions. He may had lost a friend today but he knew deep down, the old kind man was happily reunited with his family. He had gained everything he lost. And for that…how could Jungwon still be sad?

For now and forever, the courageous 14 year old boy, who acted righteous and kind, carried Kang Taehyuns life story out into the wide world, spread his last words so no one would forget the once mysterious man everyone feared to look at. Kang Taehyun, a man who got everything he wished for and then got it taken away from him. A man, who loved dearly. A man, whose story would never be forgotten.

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hawksugarbaby · 3 years

Text

Todoroki x reader- Fix you with gold

Angst + Villain reader Au

Quirk: kintsugi- you can manipulate strings of gold hardening it as soon as you need to you can also remelt it.

Crimson lights flooded the bare brick room as you watched from the corner waiting for your dear hero to wake up. Shoto todoroki. You had been well acquainted a few years back. When you haven't been coined as (y/n) (y/ln) the UA traitor but now, well not so much for obvious reasons.

Thankfully, the boy you had once loved more than anything was chained up against a chair with his head hanging low avoiding the glare of the red filter. No no this isn't your boring old yandere simulator storyline. You had no intentions of killing everyone who looked at your dear peppermint boy, you had no of killing him because you loved him that was just absolutely ridiculous... no, you were killing him because he was a hero. But was he really?

Your chair screeched as you pulled it along behind you appearing from your corner and sitting yourself down drinking a lovely tea from a beautiful porcelain cup... well, beauty is subjective. "Good morning shoto" you greeted, your cheery attitude slipping between your grit teeth. Yes, today would be a good day "lovely day, isn't it? For a little chit chat hm?" silence. Once again your response was silence "oh come on my little hero I know you're not dead. Yet" it was a fun game you two had. You would talk, he would not, but all your conversations were rather one-sided and you decided chess was more fun with 2 people. Today was going to be the day you broke him once again.

"Shoto, are you interested in what would happen to you if you keep up this silly game of silence?" you asked and finished off the tea spinning the handle around your index finger. You stood up and launched the cup against the wall fragmenting into small pieces that rained down like drops of blood, he winced knowing that the cup was expensive and not easily found. rich boys and their pottery. "I wonder how easily you shatter compared to a teacup. Shall we find out?"

You put your finger on his chin and forced his head up to look at you. His mismatched eyes bore into you with sadness "I used to love you" he whispered. You let go of him and maniacal laugh erupted from inside you which bounced off the walls into his ears "Shoto you still love me. You want me to change my ways and go back to the way I was, maybe join you as your sidekick hm?" he looked at you his eyes wide with the kindling of hope "WELL NEWSFLASH HERO I never was that girl. I was a lie, a book wrote and edited to suit you" you watched as the hope dwindled away the kindles blowing out in the icy wind of your words you leaned down to his ear and whispered "everything you saw in me was an illusion. I could never be a hero, do you know why? Because heroes aren't real"

you stood back up stretching your arms behind your back a Cheshire smile graced your face. "you still have so much time to join me sho, no ones coming to find you, dearest" you sat back down on your chair leaning forward on your hand "you're a villain (y/n) there isn't a way in hell you could convince me to come to your side" you bit the inside of your cheek and pushed yourself off the chair and walking up to him, your face barely inches apart. You kicked his chair over, flicking a butterfly knife out holding it close to his neck "NO. I'M THE GOOD GUY HERE I-IM THE GOOD ONE. YOUR NO HERO I'M CLOSER TO A HERO THAN YOU'LL EVER BE" you spat while he struggled on his back like a helpless tortoise. You were in the right of course you were. Heroes aren't real anymore just read the news the hierarchy was crumbling and the ones who were at the top had the furthest to fall.

No one needs saviours anymore. "Your insane (y/n) your sick please just let me help you" you hated it when they told you that "SHUT UP. I'M NOT I'M NOT I'M NOT. I'M NORMAL. YOU'RE THE SICK ONE YOU KNOW WHY" you pushed the knife up drawing pinpricks of blood that trickled to the floor slowly "because you crave to feed a hunger you cannot satisfy. You want to save as many people as possible, lock up all the villains yes?" he couldn't look away from the intense expression that hadn't left your face since he told you you were a villain "what happens when you lock up the villains hm? When you run out of people to save? Who runs wild through the city then? You pump out heroes every day leaving less and less for you and between you and me it looks like your going to run out of us soon" you pulled the knife back and todoroki released the breath stored up. Now he looked at it, you weren't wrong? What would happen when the villains disappeared. The heroes that were supposed to make people feel safe no matter what had struck fear into the hearts of every civilian in the world, no one dared to steal, to murder, to light their fires across the country for them to trace back to a warehouse in the middle of the wood?

No, he couldn't be thinking about that. He was a hero through and through you wouldn't change his mind with a petty butterfly knife. You scoffed at his pathetic state squirming under you and stood up pulling his chair back up along with you "you're still so handsome shoto, it really would be the biggest shame to ruin you" you sighed remembering a time when you truly wanted to be with him no matter what. But your ideologies just weren't compatible. "Do you know what happens when you mix bleach and rubbing alcohol?" you pulled a bottle of anti-septic out of your pocket and slipped a white cloth down from your sleeve to your hand "no answer? Or are you being ignorant again" he pursed his lips keeping his words sealed in the front of his mouth "fine. Let me show you." you poured the anti-septic on the cloth and walked up to the gorgeous boy in front of you stooping down "last chance my love" he looked at the wall and you groaned in annoyance. You forced the cloth in front of his mouth and nose and smiled sweetly "you make chloroform"

Day 2

Well, it turns out yesterday wasn't the day. But he was getting close you could feel it, you would take a slightly softer approach today there was another name for this, manipulation. "Morning shoto, are you feeling chatty today?" he looked up from his chair quickly when you entered. Despite what others thought, you weren't completely heartless, you would bring him food and water, and for a hostage, it was pretty good food. Maybe it was the remnants of your love that made you treat him differently. You unlocked his chains and passed him his plate. He knew there was no chance of escape, he had tried and failed a hundred times, he couldn't use his quirk in this room, and you were waiting around every corner when he tried to run.

"You know what I really don't understand shoto?" you wandered around the ruby room admiring the walls that kept him inside "when I first met you you said you despised your father and you would go against him in every way possible" he ceased eating at the mention of his father his appetite suddenly lost in the crowd of emotions "so why even become a hero. Why did you not run off? be the opposite of what he ever told you to be?" you were getting there you could feel it ripping through the air. He was lost, and confused? Who did he want to be? Certainly not anything like his father? Why did he ever want to be a hero? To save children who had to bear what he bore, why should he care for them if no hero ever cared for him "as I see it your father is worse than ever is he not? He lost Touya, he can't find you, he's wearing fuyumi and natsuo away desperate to have his perfect creation. Wouldn't now be the best time to join me sho" the plate hit the floor splitting apart just like his own sanity. Here we go. This would be so fun.

You sat cross-legged on the floor in front of him and picked up the pieces of the broken plate stacking them in your hand "you've heard of kintsugi I assume?" of course he had he grew up with everything, he nodded hesitantly his dual coloured fringe hanging in front of his eye as he leaned over watching you intently. You started laying the pieces of the plate out like a jigsaw fitting them together perfectly "if you just took my offer sho..." you started pushing the pieces together and lines of gold brushed over the old cracks, you lifted up the plate and put it on his lap "I could fix you up with gold" you whispered he gulped and traced his finger over the gold that welded the plate making it better than before. "We could get to know each other again. Love each other REALLY love each other shoto please I'm begging you" you really hated playing the broken lover card especially to someone you truly did love, and of course, you wanted to know him all over again but the begging really was a chore you had to fake so much emotion.

"I-i missed you (y/n) I really did I want you to come back to me the way you were before. Don't do this please" he begged. He knew this was it. He couldn't hang on any longer he had missed you for so long he couldn't stand being away from you again and ... you were right! Why should he strive to be a hero when none had ever cared for him when he was almost dead, beaten up by his own father who had the audacity to call himself a hero. He was nothing more than the creature to be puppeteered by Viktor Frankenstein. "THIS IS ME. can't you see that shoto this is who I am? The way I was before was fictional I tailored for you" you brushed your hand across his scarred cheek and brushed his hair out of his face "but you could know me, you could love me like this, couldn't you. You just need to join my side."

he looked at you, taking in your details for the first time in 4 years. You're (e/c) orbs didn't even try to attempt hiding the craziness behind them, the way your grin had a sadistic twist that could make any god coil in fear, your (h/l) (h/c) that was matted and bloody, the way the red light mimicked the bloodlust radiating off of you, yet he could still find comfort in it. "I want to know you," he said in his low monotone voice. The breaking point. You were his breaking point. "Let's get to know each other then hm?"

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nightwishesworld · 3 years

Note

Hello! I love your writing and if you do take request, might I ask for a family night (including Heisenberg) playing Monopoly please? (OC is already in a loving relationship with Alcina and the girls love her)

Oh boy anon, this was by far the most difficult thing I’ve ever written. It’s not my best cause I know zero about the game so I had to try and work around it. Hope you enjoy anyway!

It's that time of the week again in the Dimitrescu castle. The most sacred and anticipated time of the week; not hunting, not harvesting, not even wine tasting... it's game night.

As soon as the sun sets the girls swarm in the drawing room to ready the space for the night's antics. Daniela digs out the game while Sorine opens all the curtains, letting the warm light of the moon shine through, and Victoria lights the fire and torches. It became a ritual not long after you moved into the castle. The girls often confided in you how they wished to spend more quality time with their mother on more than one occasion. Hunting maidens and harvesting their blood was fun, but they've been doing that forever! It was no longer as thrilling as it once was, not it felt more like a chore that needed to be done. And you can't count how many times Alcina admitted to feeling guilty about not giving her daughters more of her time. So when you pitched the idea of a routine game night, you got very little pushback.

The only one who hesitated was Daniela, and only because she insisted on inviting Uncle Heisenberg, which was totally fine. You get along rather well with the werewolf and enjoy his visits. Getting in touch with him was rather difficult though. Most of his visits were spontaneous reasons to see his favorite nieces, while the other few were strictly business-related held by Alcina. It took her some time to locate her brother, but it also gave you some time to make your way back down to your old home in the village to gather your collection of board games and puzzles. Some were missing a few pieces or cards, but they would have to do for now. Worst case scenario you just buy new ones.

When Alcina finally got ahold of Heisenberg he eagerly accepted and promised to start making his way back to the castle; the girls were thrilled. After all, it wouldn't be proper family bonding time without good ol' Uncle Heis.

In the beginning, it was decided that everyone took turns deciding what game they were going to play. The cycle started with you of course, since the whole thing was your idea, then went from oldest to youngest. Everyone had a blast playing against each other and laughing at one another. You can't remember a time you'd seen Alcina laugh so hard, she was almost brought to tears. Everything was just peachy until Victoria, ever the mischief-maker decided you should play Monopoly. The poor Dimitrescu's had no idea what brand of hellish gameplay awaited them. Only an hour and a half in and Daniela had successfully bankrupt her own mother. The proud look plastered on the girl's face would have been more amusing if it weren't for Alcina losing her temper. That was the one time you couldn't wait for the night to end, and hopefully, never play it again.

Much later that night in bed with Alcina curled up on your chest you woke with a chill running down your spine. It's Daniela's turn to pick the game.

Which is how you ended up lounging on your favorite chair by the fire watching Daniela and Heisenberg setting up the board and organizing the money. Again.

Alcina is sat on the floor next to you leaning comfortably against your chair sipping her third glass of wine. "Why are we doing this again?"

You give her a sympathetic smile. "You know why, dearest, it's game night."

She only rolls her eyes at you. "You know what I mean, draga mea. Why monopoly?"

"It was Dani's turn to chose the game. It'll be fun, don't worry Al."

"Yeah Mother," Victoria giggles. "What's wrong with monopoly?"

"You mean other than how overly competitive and childish you all become?"

You were about to open your mouth when Heisenberg started to laugh. "You say 'you all' as if you aren't just as bad."

Alcina chose to ignore him in favor of her wine.

"Ah! Mother's just upset cause she knows I'm gonna make her go bankrupt again," Daniela smiled as her sisters snickered. "I forget, what did you say you were going to do to me, Mother?"

This caused the chorus of giggles to erupt into laughter. "She said she was going to disown you!" Sorine choked out.

"Forging an alliance against your mother is just plain rude! And you-" she points to Heisenberg, "you stole my companion!"

Laughter erupted in the drawing room. You leaned against Alcina's arm as you lost the ability to breathe. "I did not steal them," Heisenberg handed you both your starting $1500. "I was in a financial bind and y/n was willing to make a deal."

"And just like that our alliance was born." You lean forward and fist-bumped the werewolf. "Let's let Al join us tonight, Heis, now we'll be even against the girls."

He ponders for a moment before noticing his sister's golden eyes burning into him and hastily shakes her hand. "Welcome to the team, sis."

Alcina sighed and accepted his hand in a near bone-crushing grip. You tried not to notice the man wincing. "About damn time."

You shot Alcina finger guns with a wink and "pew pew" and she full-heartedly laughs. "What on Hell's earth was that?"

"A dumb human thing, don't worry about it."

"Horray!" Daniela grinned. "Now Mother has a fighting chance."

"Now girls," you chided. "Let's try to keep this friendly tonight, ok? As funny as it was, and it was," Alcina glares at you from behind her wine glass. "We're going to let it go now. No more ganging up on your mother."

The girls gave an innocent smile, "of course y/n."

"Wouldn't dream of it, y/n."

"Cross my heart hope to die!"

Wait, aren't they already dead? You shook your head. Doesn't matter.

"Are we using the same pieces as last time?"

"Might as well," you saw before Daniela can get a word out. "We were all happy with our tokens last time, yes?"

Daniela huffed and crossed her arms. "I want to be the dog!"

"Aw come on, Dani," Sorine says. "I think it's only fair Uncle Heis gets to be the dog."

"Since, ya know, he is a dog," Victoria smirks.

To say the atmosphere of the room was intense would be an understatement. But, you couldn't be entirely unhappy with the course of events either since your alliance was winning. Victoria is bankrupt and Daniela has been sitting in jail for the past three turns. Alcina refuses to sell her Get out of Jail Free card. Oh, how the tables have turned. Daniela, much like her dearest mother, is far too stubborn for her own good. She refuses to pay Heisenberg the $50 to get out of jail and Alcina simply refuses to bail her out. Petty revenge, but entertaining nonetheless. It's after midnight now and you're finding it difficult not to doze off against the vampire's arm. Heisenberg is awake pacing around the room as he lost interest in the stalemate already. He was nice enough to take his heavy boots off so he wouldn't disturb Sorine and Victoria's slumber. His repetitive pace was starting to lull you to sleep. You allow yourself to close your eyes for a minute, listening to Alcina's breathing and Heisenberg's hushed stomping circling around you.

The fire was reduced to crackling embers and you were left shivering under Heisenberg's coat. Out of desperation, you kiss the top of Alcina's gloved hand. "Nu putem termina în dimineața? Hai să mergem la culcare." You know she loves it when you talk in Romanian to her. Hopefully, it will give you the advantage you need to end this ridiculousness.

"I've got her cornered, y/n. A little while longer and she'll crack."

Daniela only squinted her eyes and hissed.

You were about to give up and let yourself fall asleep on Alcina when Heisenberg came stomping over, pure anger painted on his face, and kicked the coffee table over. Sorine and Victoria were startled awake by the crashing sound and snowfall of cards. It was honestly the most magical thing that happened all night. He shouted something along the lines of "Go to bed!" but you couldn't make it out over Daniela and Alcina's screams. They pay you little mind as they chase Heisenberg out of the room and down the corridor, the sounds of vases and antique decor crashing following them as they go.

Sorine stands over you looking at you through bleary eyes, extending her hand to help you up. "Bed?"

A lion's yawn overcomes you and you smile. "Bed."

#lady dimitrescu x reader #lady alcina #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #tall vampire lady #lady dimitrescu #monopoly broke me

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