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captainillogical · 4 years

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Profoundly Yours Ch.3

Amity receives a love letter in her locker. Luz wants to help figure out who it is.

Cover art by my lovely wife @firstofficertightpants

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Several days pass with nothing else from Amity's secret admirer, until she gets to her locker after a particularly rough day. She just wants to go home and attempt to take a nap, the insomnia as of late has been awful and she’s not quite ready to admit it’s a problem.

She opens her locker, this time there happens to be a letter rolled up into a little scroll and tied with ribbon. She grabs it, placing her books inside the locker and taking the rest of her things out that she wants to bring home in her bag. There aren't really a lot of other students around, and no one's even looking in her direction, so she unties the ribbon to take a peek right there instead of later.

Amity immediately locks up when her eyes scan the page.

You're the beauty amongst the filth in this school.

I watch you as you walk the halls, the way you keep to yourself has me enthralled.

I wonder what you're thinking about when you chew your pencil so.

I wish to be that pencil, to feel your lips upon my lips.

Someday soon, you shall be mine.

She quickly balls up the paper, shoving it into her bag so she can no longer see it, heart pounding in her chest. There’s this unsettling feeling at the pit of her stomach, and she feels a little nauseous. Okay, yeah, she's pretty creeped out. If she was on the fence about her admirer before, she definitely has a solid impression of the weirdo now. She feels the hairs standing up on her neck as her mind is racing - oh jeez is the person still waiting around for Amity to read their letter?!

She whips her head around in time to see Willow giving her a strange look quite a few feet away at her own locker, and decides she doesn't want to stick around any longer for a comment. Was she watching the entire time?

Amity then leaves in a hurry, but she doesn't want to go straight home anymore. She needs to be alone to think.

The only place she knows where she can be truly alone, is in her secret hideout in the library. She leaves her bag on the floor, with the note still inside it and grabs her diary off the shelf to sit at and write on the large beanbag on the floor, sinking into it and relaxing.

She has a lot on her mind.

She doesn’t know who at school would write her these, and doesn’t like that they’ve been watching her. She really only chews her pencil when she’s intensely concentrating on studying, and rarely are people around her then. She ends up writing a lot about her newfound paranoia, but even then, eventually the words on the page turn to her writing about Luz.

Again.

Her thoughts are plagued incessantly by Luz, and that’s a first in the entirety of Amity’s life. She never thought she could feel such intense feelings about another person - let alone a human. She can’t seem to help it, though. After a lot of reflection on her own part about the other girl, Amity can’t help but like her. A lot. She keeps writing, finding the words flowing so easy on the page - her eyes droop, tiredness from the week making itself present.

She doesn’t even realize when she’s blasted through writing four pages of absolute mush - and then she thinks she hears something soft knock on the bookshelf entrance door.

She looks up, because she wasn’t sure she even heard a noise. She’s pretty tired, after all. Several seconds pass, and then there’s faint knocking again. Amity knows that Edric and Emira would just barge in, and the only other person that knows that her secret is here is.. the object of her affections.

“You can come in.” Amity says, judging herself at how quickly she’d allow Luz in. The human could’ve barged in, really, and she wouldn’t even be that offended - even though she knows Luz respects her privacy enough not to. There’s heavy scraping noises as the bookshelf opens for the other girl, Amity’s heart starts to speed up a little as she walks in and makes sure the entrance closes behind her. Large eyes stare back at her in concern, short hair flipped up in several directions as if she ran here.

“I know it’s not secret book club day, but Willow said you were acting weird by your locker earlier and then left in a rush.” Luz fumbles with her hands, Amity can’t help but notice. It’s a little strange. She’s worried about her - Amity feels her stomach do somersaults where she sits. “Are you okay?”

“She would say something, huh,” Amity slams her diary shut, almost forgetting that she was writing about the only other person in this room and tosses it onto the floor next to her as casually as she can. Luz’s eyes dart to it pointedly, and Amity curses in her mind.

“Was it another letter?” Luz asks, and Amity’s a little surprised that she just knows. She nods. “Can I see it?”

“It’s in my bag,” Amity points to hers on the floor, and Luz digs inside for it, pulling out the wad of scrunched up paper. She raises her eyebrows in confusion at the state it’s in, and walks over to the spot Amity’s sitting at and plopping herself down right next to the other girl, sinking into the beanbag as well. Luz doesn’t seem bothered at all with the fact that she’s now sitting flush against Amity, the side of her legs, hips, and arms colliding with the other girls as she carefully unwraps the paper, making sure she doesn’t tear it.

Amity sits there in muted shock, all too aware of Luz’s body warmth against her own as she reads the letter. It’s starting to get too warm in here. She feels her own hands getting clammy. Why does Luz keep getting so close to her? Is this just how she is with all of her friends? She needs to pay more attention to how the human acts with Willow and Gus for reference at this point because she’s going to go crazy if she keeps analyzing all this. Amity’s never been like this with any of her friends, so why is Luz so comfortable with her?

Not to say that Amity actually minds at all.

“Amity.” Luz speaks suddenly, drawing her immediately out of her current train of thoughts with a startle. She meets the other girl’s gaze. “You’re sure it’s not someone in the majority of your classes? This is creepy.” She finishes with a frown, leaning further against her. “Who would write something like this to someone they like, and expect it to go over well?”

“I don’t know,” Amity replies truthfully. “It’s not like I ever catch anyone staring at me.”

“Ughhhhhhhhhh,” Luz groans, stretching her legs out and resting her head against the back of the beanbag. “I wasn’t sure on how to feel about these, but now I’m nervous that they’re going to get bold, or worse, try something in the middle of class,” She rolls her head over to face Amity, giving her a very serious look. “I don’t like the line about your lips, or especially the ‘you shall be mine’ bit.”

Amity feels her face flush, Luz taking up the majority of her senses. She tries not to look at her, her mind is reeling with thoughts like ‘haha oh Amity, imagine if she were jealous over this person? Wouldn’t that be something.’ “Considering they still haven’t bothered writing their name down, I think they’re too much of a coward to meet me face to face.”

“If it were me, I would’ve just came straight out with it. I don’t see the point of not just being honest with your feelings?” She rants out loud, clearly agitated. “Why bother hiding your feelings behind letters and anonymity, when that doesn’t help your case in the sake of romance? Just be forward!”

Amity avoids her eyes, knowing that her own face is incapable of hiding her own feelings for the other girl after she’s called out indirectly about her own feelings for the human.

“Being forward can be hard, though,” Is what comes out of Amity’s mouth, and Luz turns her head to directly stare at her, eyebrows raised in apprehensiveness.

“Are you defending your secret admirer?” She replies, and Amity feels her own face light up in embarrassment. She was only speaking for herself here, and now Luz thinks that she’s defending this creep?!

“N-no!” She retorts in a hurry, Luz’s confused face making her all the more flustered. “Not at all, I just understand that confrontations with your feelings can be hard,” She realizes what she’s saying as she remembers that Luz knows all about her own greatest fear, thanks to Grometheus. The expression on Luz’s face changes to something a little more knowingly as Amity’s stomach sinks - tone in the air changing. Luz opens her mouth to say something, a small grin turning the corners of her lips, and she cuts her off. -”not that I’d know anything about that. Anyway, whoever they are, I just hope they don’t try cornering me when I'm alone.”

“Hmmm,” Luz’s pupils fall on Amity’s face - said girl watches the brown specks in her eyes sparkle, her chest constricting when Luz meets her gaze. “I could always walk you to and from class if you’re that worried. I could be your knight! I can be protective and stuff! Although I kinda feel a little more like Westley from Princess Bride..” She finishes, excited at the prospect of her own suggestion, the meaning of it completely flying over her head.

“T-that’s..” Amity stutters, unable to stop herself from being affected by Luz’s boundless enthusiasm and the implications, whatever the hell Princess Bride is. “That’s not necessary at all. I can protect myself.”

“I know you can protect yourself Amity! Pretty sure you can beat me at arm wrestling any time,” Luz retorts with a snort, grin wide on her face as she wiggles her eyebrows at the other girl. Amity finds her stupidly endearing. “And beat me at loads of other things, but seriously, it might discourage the guy from approaching you if you always had a friend around.”

“I’ll think about it.” She says with a sigh, trying to not let her face fall at the way Luz says ‘friend’. “I don’t want to bring attention to myself, so..”

“I get it! Just let me know.” She smiles warmly at Amity, not knowing at all of what it does to her poor heart. “I did want your opinion on something, though, not to change the subject.. was reading this Azura fanfic the other day that had some interesting theories..”

“Yeah?” Amity perks up, interested.

“Yeah, so, remember that one scene with Hecate at the end of book four? So, this guy thinks that..” Amity mainly listens to the sound of her voice here, as Luz trails off about this specific writer’s off-color opinions about the possible end of the books. She does try to pay attention, but it’s so freaking difficult when it happens to be the one person she’d rather be kissing than anything else.

Ugh.

She needs to stop pining.

She finds her body relaxing as she gives minimal responses to Luz, other girl delving into deeper and deeper lore quite animatedly. It’s really fucking cute, honestly.

Her head feels so heavy here leaning against the bean bag, Luz warm against her side. She doesn’t even realize when she’s falling asleep, listening to the sound of the other girl’s light voice as she goes on and on about her own specific Azura end-book theories, comfort washes over her like a blanket..

She wakes up to the sound of soft humming of someone very familiar, and a page turning in a book. She doesn’t want to open her eyes just yet. It’s Luz, obviously - her brain catches on that detail almost immediately. What was she doing last? Ah, right, they were in her secret hideout. She realizes she’s somehow laying with her head in Luz’s lap, and she’s unable to comprehend how she got in this position in the first place. Another page turns, humming getting a little louder.

There’s a hand on her head, petting her hair. It’s gentle and tender in it’s motions, and Luz’s fingernails softly scrape her scalp. It feels really nice actually, so nice that she almost falls back asleep.. and then warm fingers graze the edge of the tips of her pointed ears, and she feels her entire body break out in a flush. The appendage stays there, resting against her skin; her heart beating wildly against her ribcage. Luz’s finger softly rubs against her sensitive outer lobe, and Amity’s knee-jerk reaction is to sit up immediately and clutch her ear like it was burned, yelping out loud embarrassingly.

“Oh hey, you’re awake. I probably shoulda’ woke you up earlier, but I was pretty engrossed in this guy here,” She grins innocently, showing Amity the cover of one of her favorite fantasy novels. “You were also just so cute and peaceful that I couldn’t really bring myself to it..”

“U-um,” Amity stutters, face taking on a look identical to a tomato. She called you cute. She's physically incapable of moving, and can’t seem to force out any words, her brain is screaming at her - she was touching your ears! Luz! Ohhhhhh myyyyy g-

“Amity, are you okay? Your face is really red,” Luz points to her, her own cheeks starting to color as her eyebrows furrow. “Oh jeez, I wasn't doing something strange right? Don’t tell me I just did something super weird, I was just absentmindedly reading, I didn’t realize..”

-“No! No. It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” Amity lies, knowing full well this will be all she can think about for the next month. Stupid human and her friendly casual-ness, she’s going to be the cause of a heart attack in Amity. "I'm just sorry I fell asleep on you. How long was I out?"

"Nonsense! What are friends for anyway?" She replies almost nervously, frantically waving her hands. "...and three hours, give or take."

"Three hours?!" Amity hisses out, unable to comprehend that Luz let her sleep on her for that long. "I was supposed to be there for a family dinner tonight! They're gonna kill me."

"I'm sorry! I would've woken you up earlier if I knew you had to be somewhere! You've just seemed really tired lately is all.." Luz scratches her cheek sheepishly.

Amity stares at the other girl. How the hell can she read Amity so well?! She feels like the blush on her face is constant at this point around Luz, and it's going to give her away any day now.

"It's.. it's fine. They'll be mad no matter what excuse I'll give them, so.." She shrugs, trying to ignore the thoughts at the back of her mind. "I feel a lot better now anyway."

"Have you been having issues sleeping? I can ask Eda if she has any solutions - that lady's always got a potion for something."

"I appreciate that Luz, but it's just been some other stuff on my mind that I'm sure is what's causing it." The green-haired witch sighs out truthfully. "Can't seem to let my mind rest, lately."

"Do you wanna talk about it?" She offers, and Amity nearly laughs right at her. Yeah, sure Luz! I can't seem to sleep because I can't stop thinking about how much I love you!

"Lord no," is what comes out of her mouth quickly, Luz giving her a strange look. "I just don't feel ready enough to talk about that."

"Well, if you ever want to, and you don't mind that it's me, I'm here." She gives Amity a soft, genuine smile, and Amity doesn't know what to do. Her heart hurts, and Luz is looking at her with such kindness and patience that all she wants to do is lean over and kiss the other girl.

The room is eerily quiet for a moment as Amity gathers her jumbled thoughts, the human girl staring at her like she's the only other person worth looking at, breath held like she's waiting for something.

Amity almost blurts out a love confession on the spot, but her stomach growls instead. It ruins the atmosphere instantly.

"Oh. Guess I'm kinda hungry.." She covers her stomach with her arm out of embarrassment, as if that would help anything.

"Well, you did skip dinner." Luz stands up and stretches her arms, and then offers a hand to Amity. "Would Miss Blight like to grab some food with her human companion?" She winks a little smugly, grin on her face. "Only if you're up for it though."

Amity stares at the hand in front of her, feeling her face flush for the hundredth time today. She grasps Luz's palm before she can second guess herself, standing up on unsteady feet.

"Well, it's not like I can get into further trouble." She replies, holding onto the other girls hand a second or two longer than necessary.

She did get into trouble though, and was admonished for quite some time when she got home later in the evening. Her parents grill her on her whereabouts, and she just tells them that she fell asleep. It's not like it's a lie. She does catch her siblings eavesdropping nearby, the absolute heathens.

When they're finally done, she goes to hide in one of the bathrooms for a while - she knows that Ed and Em are gonna pry into everything.

Five minutes into her nightly routine, and she hears two pairs of footsteps walking towards the bathroom she's in, like clockwork. She rolls her eyes to herself, not feeling up to the harassment tonight.

"Ohhhh Mittens~" Comes the annoying voice of her brother from beyond the door. Amity thinks for a brief second that she could just ignore them and carry on as usual, but she knows they won't let that happen.

"What." She answers sharply, water running in the sink. She grabs her face wash.

"Don't be like that! We just want to make sure you're okay," Emira says sweetly, and jiggles the doorknob that Amity locked prior.

"No you're not," She replies, rubbing soap onto her cheeks and forehead. "You're here to gloat."

"So not!" Edric cries. "We just love our baby sister and we're concerned!"

"Suuuure." Is all she mumbles, uncaring as she rinses off her face.

"Where were you earlier? You never miss family dinner. Did something happen?" Emira prys, and Amity just sighs. She doesn't want to do this right now.

She finishes wiping her face, and suddenly opens the bathroom door wide - Edric was leaning on it and he almost falls to the floor, Emira catching him. Amity glares at her siblings.

"Can you two leave me alone for once?!" She snaps, and stomps off to her room, her siblings' crying out behind her.

She locks her bedroom door behind her, and flops onto her bed face-first.

She tries to sleep, but ends up thinking about Luz for literal hours instead. As per usual.

#the owl house #toh #lumity #luz noceda #amity blight #my fic #profoundly yours #luz x amity

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xbellaxcarolinax · 4 years

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Forging A Heart (Ivar the Boneless) 7- Obedience

Pairings: Ivar x Artemis (OFC)

Word Count: 3732

Warnings: Implied violence, of course, from Ivar.

AN: I’m only realizing now that this would be considered a slow burn. Sorry 😅

6- Trapped

...

"I didn't think Ivar was serious when he said you'd be in here."

Artemis cracks her eyes open at the offending light. Above her stood Hvitserk, a concerned look in his eye. She shifts under his gaze, feeling the discomfort in her aching bones.

"Good morning." He then chirps in greeting, holding his hands out as an invitation. Artemis hesitates for a moment before grasping them, immediately noticing the roughness of his hands as he hauls her up in one swift motion.

Hvitserk managed to lift her out like a small child, setting her down on her unstable feet. He looked at her tired eyes with a sad smile, and that alone was off putting.

"I like you, Artemis," He begins, "I can't deny there's something about you," He pauses. He runs a hand down the smooth expanse of his honey hair, set in a neat singular braid. He leans against the crate, giving her a pointed look, "But it doesn't mean you can be disobedient, nor neglect your duties." He sounded so much like Helga, reprimanding, yet somehow not so angry. At least, not yet.

There was something he was keeping quiet about. Something was brewing and it set a fear in her heart. In her nervousness Artemis attempts to smooth down her overused dress, the hem already developing fraying seams. With a sigh, Hvitserk moves closer to her, supplying a rough rope from his belt and tying her wrists together, just as he had the first time they met. She couldn't even process his actions properly, and before she knew it, her hands were bounded.

"I hate to do this," Hvisterk offers her the same sorrowful smile as before, "But Ivar believes an example needs to be made of you." She remains quiet, looking at her bounded wrists with dejected eyes.

"I will be beaten." She comes to a realization, her voice barely above a whisper.

"The faster it begins, the faster it will end," Hvisterk replies, taking the long end of the rope to pull her along with him. Her still aching limbs struggled to keep up with Hvitserk's pace, and she could feel the bile rise, burning it's way up enough to make her eyes water and the panic resurface.

Hvitserk sighs again, gently turning her around to rip open the laces holding her dress together before pushing her out the cabin door. It was a sunny day, one that hadn't been seen in so long. She would have laughed bitterly if she weren't afraid.

All the other slaves under the Ragnarson's household waited out front, some of them appearing disinterested. Edda stood there with arms crossed over her round belly, annoyed that her time was being wasted on a spectacle when she had more important matters to attend to.

Sigurd and Ubbe, and stood leaning off the side of the cabin, their faces lacking any real emotion. Sigurd takes a quick glance at her before looking away, and Ubbe's piercing eyes said it all. I told you so.

Hvitserk pulls her toward the nearest tree, tying the rope as tightly as he could around the trunk. He motions for her to face the trunk and lower herself to her knees. She ignores the uncomfortable feel of her knees sinking into the dirt, focusing her watery eyes on the jagged shapes of the tree bark.

"I'm sorry, little fighter." And with that, Hvitserk leaves to join the others.

It was eerily quiet after that. The birds were singing their morning songs in the trees, and the cold wind danced through the leaves, gently falling over her.

Artemis let's out a shuddering breath as soon as she hears his body dragging over the dying grass, and her own body immediately tensed, the exposed skin of her back forming goose flesh.

Ivar drags himself to sit beside her, grunting when his back hits the trunk of the tree. He stares at her for a few moments, but she never turns her face to stare back at his. She bites her tongue as she gets the sudden urge to spit in his face.

He leans his head back, playing with something in his hands that she was sure was the object of punishment.

"You look scared," He comments lowly, the smallest hint of amusement in his voice. Still, Artemis remained silent.

"Look." He tells her gently, tapping a finger to her knee to grab her attention. When she turns, she sees him holding up a wooden stick with a slight curve in her line of vision. A switch.

"Mother would use this on my brothers whenever they misbehaved," Ivar smiles, recounting the countless memories of them being rambunctious boys, "I remember a time when Hvitserk went into mother's paint pot of khol. He used it all to rub it over our faces, even the thralls." He let's out a chuckle at the memory, a twinge of sadness from recalling images of his mother.

He sighs, poking her cheek with the stick, smiling when she flinches.

"Can you imagine Hvitserk being hit by our beautiful mother with this? She should have used a hammer." He continues his mindless chatter.

"And what about you?" Artemis croaks, her throat feeling dryer than the deserts of the east.

"What about me?"

"Were you ever hit with it when you misbehaved?" The question causes a bitter chuckle to erupt from him.

"Mother didn't want to hit a cripple," He shrugs, sweeping his eyes over her, "Not even when I killed a boy," To this, Artemis jerks away as if he'd burned her somehow, and he only laughs at her reaction.

"What? It was an accident." He says before dragging himself behind her shivering form, his bound legs touching the side of her thigh.

"It would be like being a child again," He says in a condescending tone, moving the tip of the switch in little sweeps over her shoulders and down her back. She wished he'd just do it already.

He leans in closer to whisper.

"Pray to the gods that today you will learn your real lesson."

...

It could have been worse, she tells herself.

It could have been his dagger, or a horse whip, carving or ripping at her tender flesh.

But it certainly did hurt.

Artemis takes in shaky breaths, her heart still pumping with the after effects of the adrenaline. Her back was marred with crisscross markings extending down to her lower back. She felt her bones would have shattered from the weight of the impact.

Ivar had said nothing by the end of it, tossing the switch aside and crawling away from the scene as if he were the one struck by it.

Artemis was left on her cot in an isolated area housed by the animals to deal with the consequences. There was a lingering stench of the goats and sheep, and she brings her sleeve up to shield her nose from the offending smells.

She sat with her knees cradled to her chest, her back making it impossible to lay down and rest properly. After a while her tears finally subsided, drying in thin streaks down her cheeks. She recites a simple prayer before fluttering her eyes closed once the drowsiness crept up. Her concentration was broken once she hears the familiar plucking of the lute. Squinting her eyes in the dimness of the candlelight, she barely makes out Sigurd's form, playing his lute gently.

Stunned, Artemis watches him appraoch her slowly until he sat directly in front of her, continuing to play the soft melody. She looked away from him quickly with a frown, overwhelmingly embarrassed.

"Artemis," She looks up reluctantly. His yellow hair was paler under the glow of the candles, and his eyes glitter like little blue jewels.

"Prince Sigurd."

"I...I have no words of comfort to give you. Just a song to lighten your spirits," He started to play again, experienced fingers plucking each string precisely. He hummed along with the melody, his eyes closed in concentration. The tune was nothing she's heard before, but it was beautiful. She let's the music soothe her, and she finally reveals the smallest hint of a smile, though it never reaches her eyes. Sigurd smiles back, feeling he had conquered the greatest achievement.

"Why do you show me kindness?" She questions him, hugging her knees tighter as if to hide. Although she appreciated Sigurd's attempt at calming her, she didn't know whether to trust his seemingly kind heart or if he were trying to misguide her.

"Everyone deserves kindness, even a slave," He replies, the smile never falling from his lips as his fingers continue playing.

"Even Ivar?" She asks, her eyes finally willing to bore into his. Sigurd abruptly stopped his plucking, setting the lute aside with a sigh.

"Ivar is crazy, but he is my brother. Although we do not see eye to eye, he is still my blood. I just wish he would realize that too," Sigurd spoke the last part softly with a another sigh. "I'm sorry I could not help you, but it was out of my control," Artemis shakes her head, not interested in such things. If God couldn't help her, than who could?

"I suppose a slave doesn't deserve to be saved." She rests her head on her knees, her hair spilling over like a dark waterfall. She was tired and didn't wish to take part in idle talk. Sigurd frowned, standing now with lute in hand. He takes a quick glance at her back, eyes lingering over the red swells that decorated her skin.

"Ivar has requested you be taken to the healer in the morning. It's the most kindness he will show you. Have a goodnight, Artemis," He left swiftly, finally leaving Artemis to the peace she had wanted. She muttered another silent prayer, making the sign of the cross before turning to her side and closing her eyes.

...

Sigurd had been correct, much to her relief.

She had been fetched to see the healer, upon Ivar's request, so that she may be tended to. The healer wasn't to concerned, simply applying a soothing salve that acted as a numbing agent. In time, the welts would disappear. Artemis should have been happy about it, but it didn't change the fact that the wounds were inflicted on her in the first place.

She was given a new dress as well, another request of Ivar's. It was nothing out of the ordinary, but the fabric was of much finer quality than the last, of a warmer, softer wool. She didn't know why he even bothered to see that she was provided with what would be considered luxuries to some. His tendencies were confusing, and Artemis was beginning to grow weary of his judgements.

In the end, Ivar recieved exactly what he wanted: obedience.

Artemis no longer spoke out, and only spoke when being spoken to. She didn't look into anyone's eyes for much longer then a second. She remained quiet and passive, going about her duties that have doubled since the incident. She served the morning and evening meals to the Princes when asked to, helped Edda in the kitchen, and saw to every annoying need Ivar had.

His brothers took notice, watching her silently become just like every other thrall. Though Hvitserk still teased her at times, Ubbe was still kind, and Sigurd became more sympathetic towards her.

There was nothing in Kattegat that brought her simple pleasures. Every day became the same routine, with endless tasks and long nights to think of her home. She thought of her father, about the family business and who would inherit it. She missed the hot nights under the dark sky, the ancient ruins in her village, and she even missed the butcher boy who'd constantly seek her out.

The monks were dying one by one as the days passed, saddening her greatly. She stopped visiting Helga, as she was embarrassed of what the woman would say, but she couldn't go even if she wanted to. Facing Helga was one matter, but to face Floki was to seek further humiliation. Helga did warn her, as most did, but Artemis was stubborn and prideful, but like everything else, in time, she learned.

Snow began to cover every inch of Kattegat, and it was whiter than anything she'd ever seen before. It intrigued her, the way it fell silently in its path, only to land in her hand, melting away. It would be a harsh winter she'd hear the people say, with vegetation dying and rivers freezing over, and although she resented the cold nights, she had a new appreciation for the snow and its careful beauty.

Once the winter passes, the heathen army would make it's way across the seas to seek destruction. Artemis often found herself listening in to their plans, and watching as the brothers fought for control. Ivar was often angry, but that was to no surprise. He constantly argued with Bjorn, who would bark back his authority in return.

From her understanding, Ivar thought himself to be the leader, the one their father chose to lead their growing army. Ubbe, Hvistserk, and Sigurd never argued, but agreed that Bjorn should lead. Ivar was far too fickle, and his ever changing mood would cause more damage to themselves than to their enemies.

The bickering of siblings was nothing new to Artemis. She too had a brother, Apollo, who would often tease her relentlessly, but it was in brotherly affection, which is what the Ragnarsson lacked most of the time. It was as if it were disease tainting their veins, and the arguments between Ivar and Sigurd was nothing she had witness before. It was such hatred that passed through their eyes, clouding their vision of what was right and wrong.

Anyone could see the obvious distaste they had towards each other, and it was only recently in which Ivar would enter his chambers at night after another meeting, going on and on about how Sigurd infuriated him. Every night Artemis would listen while she readied his chambers for the night as he insulted his brother, repeatedly stabbing his desk with his favorite knife mercilessly in a way to calm his nerves.

In any other situation, Artemis wouldn't hesitate telling Ivar how stupid she thought he was, and how quickly his anger got the better of him. Ivar was young, and still had the mind of a child when it came to dealing with his anger. But she didn't care enough to even look in his direction most times. She grew a dislike for him, and his stupid legs.

...

Queen Lagertha organized a feast in honor of all the visiting nobles and warriors that came in the name of her ex-husband. She sat proudly on her throne, her red gown pooling around her feet like a river of blood. She was a sight to behold, with flaxen locks and attractive eyes that twinkled with many untold secrets.

Artemis watched her with doe eyes, admiring the Queen who emanated such strength and courage. The owl perched at her side and the warrior women beside her only helped her regal image. The girl was dazed, looking upon her as if she were a Greek goddess.

"Why do you look so impressed? She killed my mother." Ivar snorted beside her, sitting comfortably on a chair draped in comfortable furs. He sniffs at the ale given to him by one of Lagertha's thralls, before deciding it was safe to drink. He gulps it down in one go, tossing the cup behind him with little care. She grumbles to herself, bending to pick it up as he continued.

"She doesn't deserve the throne."

She turns to him with apathetic eyes. She had no interest in the Queen killing his mother. Perhaps she had good reason for doing so, but it didnt really matter to her.

"She is beautiful." Artemis remarks casually, watching Ivar's face twist in disgust, and it was almost enough to make her smile.

"She is a witch." He spat before shooing her away to speak with more honorable people worthy of his presence.

She looks around the hall, trying to find her way to the sidelines with the other slaves. The people here were massive, both the men and women, towering over her like great mountains. It was nothing she was not use to at this point, seeing pale skin covered with markings depicting their myths and culture.

Searching the crowd, she secretly hopes to find Helga, but she finds Aria instead, a slave taken from a kingdom called Ireland. She was a pretty girl with hair like fire and skin so pale, that she rivaled the white snow. She had a dust of freckles upon her face, and Artemis always found herself admiring her beauty.

"He's looking at you, you know," Aria snickered in her broken Norse, "He's been watching you all night. If he is not glaring at the Queen, then he is looking at you." Artemis snorted. She knew who she meant but she didn't want to acknowledge it. Ivar's eyes were always piercing, and so she dared not to look his way.

"Does he wish to take you?" Artemis turned her head quickly at the question, she almost feared her neck would snap from the force.

"What?"

The red head laughed, "He is doing more than merely looking at you, Artemis. He is eating you with his eyes"

"Don't be a fool, the prince hates me," Artemis snaps, grabbing a pitcher of ale from a passing thralls hands. She needed to keep herself occupied.

"You're much too modest. You're pretty, and there's nothing wrong with pleasing your master. That is how I stay in the Jarls good graces." Aria smirked, and behind that smirk lay many lustful secrets.

"You mean to be like Margrethe?" Both women glanced at the former slave, hanging off Ubbe's arm but batting her lashes at Hvitserk. Aria shrugged, glancing at her master who beckoned her over with a seductive smile.

"Perhaps." She says, bouncing away in a swirl of her skirts. Artemis huffed, rejecting the idea.

"Harald, look, the Mediterranean girl," She hadn't seen him in a while, but she remembered him well, the man with the ink on his face and the yellow hair over his eye. She knew his name to be Halfdan, protector of the stolen goods on Bjorn's last raid. The man named Harald tilts his head as he observes her. He then proceedes to chuckle, causing Artemis to frown.

"Quite the pretty little thing, brother," He turns to Halfdan smiling before bending down to be at eye level with her.

"And what is your name, hmm?" Artemis gulped, his face mere inches away from her own. His eyes held many stories of battle, and his skin riddled with scars was a testament to that. His hair was long and braided, falling over his shoulder as he bent. The ink on his skin only made him appear fiercer and he clearly was a man one should not anger.

"Artemis," She replies quietly, gripping the pitcher tight to her chest.

"He is a king. King Harald. You should address him as such," Halfdan says, quickly glancing at the pretty noble women that passed him.

"My apologies, King Harald, I was not aware," Artemis kept her eyes downcast, not wanting to meet either of their gazes. She wouldn't lie, she was quite intimidated, and having these men stand over her made her feel smaller than she already was.

"Worry not," Harald straightened up with a smile, "Your accent is odd. Where in the Mediterranean?"

"Crete."

Harald turns to look back at his brother for further information, but

Halfdan only shrugs, holding out his cup for Artemis to pour him ale. She complied immediately without hesitation.

"An island they say is part of the Byzantine Empire. We didn't stay long." Harald held his own cup out, and she poured him more ale obediently. The brothers clinked their cups together, yelling skol, before gulping the ale in one go. That seemed to be very common here.

"Well, little Artemis, we hope to see you again." She blinked after them, watching their fur covered backs disappear into the crowd of more furs and wool. What an odd pair they were

Before she could think of anything more, she was pinched roughly on the ankle, her yelp drowned out by the loud music and chatter. Turning round, she meets Ivar's angry eyes below her. He motions for her to lower herself.

"What did they want?" He hisses in her ear. What was she to say to that? She didn't even know what they had wanted. It was an odd introduction to an odd pair of brothers.

"They wanted more ale, Prince Ivar," He rolls his eyes, another action he seemed to do often.

"It's not your job to serve anyone tonight. You're no one else's thrall." Her brows knit in confusion. What was he going on about?

"Rememeber what I have told you. You serve no one but me," Ivar suddenly looked fatigued, his arms trembling slightly with the constant pressure of holding himself up. Not that Artemis cared, really. He could collapse in front of her and she wouldn't bat an eye. He suddenly snatched the pitcher from her, flagging down another thrall and thrusting it into their hands before sending them off.

"This feast bores me. Go on and ready my chambers, I wish to retire for the night," He shoos her off before going back to his brothers. He turns back to look at her disappear out of the hall, before going back to sit down beside Ubbe, who gave him a knowing smile.

"How fairs the slave?"

Lagertha suddenly cuts into his vision, a smirk gracing her pink lips as she bends to whisper in his ear. Ivar sneered, moving away from her, causing his other brothers to turn and look.

"She is a terrible slave, and quite umbecoming," He says harshly, his blue eyes icy. It took everything in him to not kill her where she stood. The Queen laughs, tossing her blonde hair behind her shoulder and sipping delicately from her golden cup.

"Your eyes say otherwise." Lagertha looked at him one last time with a knowing gaze, leaving him dumbfounded in the middle of the crowded hall.

...

@heavenly1927

#ivarfanfiction #ivarxofc #ivar lothbrok #ivar imagine #ivar #ivar fanfic #vikings ivar #vikings #helga #ubbe #sigurd #hvitserk #floki #lagertha #ivar the boneless #alex hogh andersen

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fraink5-writes · 3 years

Text

From Darkness Into the Lantern Light - Chapter 2

Another week, another chapter... How exciting~!

Thanks, of course, to the great @leio13 for everything she’s done to polish up this story!

Summary: Once upon a time, there was a cold-hearted queen. Although the Tsaritsa, as she was called, possessed her own divinity, she coveted the powers of the other Archons. Aiming to steal the Geo Archon’s gnosis, she sent her strongest warriors to Liyue Harbor. But just when Rex Lapis was almost defeated, he escaped to another vessel, that of a powerless baby, and was swept away to a hidden tower for his protection.

Many years after the great fight, the young and ambitious Harbinger, Childe, arrives in Liyue to grant the Tsaritsa’s desire, but, on his search for the Geo Archon’s gnosis, he ends up tangled in a mysterious man’s dreams to see Liyue Harbor’s Lantern Rite.

This chapter can also be found on Ao3 here. Without further ado, please enjoy!

Childe yawned. He had been keeping guard by the window while Zhongli pulled himself together. True to Zhongli's words, not a soul passed through the area. How boring.

The true object of Childe's curiosity was, of course, Zhongli himself—although Childe dared not watch him directly while he was so on edge. He had made thousands of laps around his tiny tower home, futzing around with every little thing.

What little information Childe did know about Zhongli painted a strange picture. Most notably, the man had never had a haircut in his lifetime. Although Childe was certainly not an expert in hair care, letting it grow out indefinitely had to have more downsides than up. Underneath all the hair, though, was even weirder. Zhongli had let slip that he had never encountered another person since he came to the tower, which was starting to seem like a very long time. Given the virtual non-existence of passersby and Zhongli’s paranoia, his outrageous statement appeared like a plausible fact. Unfortunately, due to their contract, Childe could no longer ask about either of these mysteries.

But they were, nevertheless, exploitable. If Zhongli distrusted the entire world, all the better for Childe, his only ally. In pernicious Liyue, even Childe could be a hero, and ultimately, that feeling of gratitude and indebtedness would be paid back with critical information.

Well, at the end of the day, Childe did not expect Zhongli to have any pertinent information on his target, so perhaps forging trust with him was not necessary. Even still, Zhongli’s fearfulness worked to Childe’s advantage in yet another way: he could be free of him sooner. After all, how hard could it be to scare this man into wanting to turn back? Whether or not Zhongli could tell him something of value was insignificant compared to the pressing need to recommence his search for Rex Lapis.

“Hey, you almost ready to go?” Childe, reminded of his impatience, called out.

“Not yet.” Zhongli was standing by a chair he had already revisited 20 times.

“At this rate, you’re never going to wanna leave!”

“You’re right. Sorry.” Zhongli came slightly closer, still armed with his pan.

If there was one thing Childe couldn’t handle about Zhongli, it was his aura. Despite the absurdity of his paranoia and weapon choice, under his demeanor, there was a vague, latent power that kept Childe on his toes. This man’s a potential threat.

“You’re going to bring that?” Childe asked.

“I don’t know what else to bring.”

“Right.” Childe sighed into his palm. “Let’s just get going then. Oh yeah, where are we going exactly? You didn’t say.”

“Liyue Harbor.”

Childe’s hands dropped to his side. His stomach capsized in its own digestive juices.

“I want to see the annual lanterns.”

As all his thoughts jammed in his skull, not a single one made it to Childe’s lips. It’s okay. It’ll be fine. This is just a special challenge to see how fast you can get him to turn around. “Yeah.” Finally, Childe snapped to his senses. “Great, so where’s the exit?”

“I’m unsure.”

“What do you mean?” Asking that question was not unlike juggling a bomb before it explodes, hoping to lessen the impact.

“I’ve never left this tower before.”

BOOM

Luckily, Childe had time to dig his feet in the ground, lest the explosion bowl him over. Another statement that provided no real answers, only more questions—too many questions to be worth pondering over—and he couldn’t even ask for the answers. At the core, however, one overarching question throbbed in his mind: how did Zhongli even survive?

Not one to show his weakness, Childe posed a joke instead. “So, you couldn’t even find one during your many laps around?”

“No, unfortunately, but I did have an idea. If I hook it up here, by the window, we can use my hair to climb down.”

Childe’s brain overheated and shut down. That was fine. Thinking only seemed like a detriment in this situation. Much like a fight, it was time to rely solely on instincts.

Although it was Zhongli’s idea, he appeared reluctant to let Childe hold his hair, but finally he handed him a section with a wince. Conversely, after all that had happened in the day, Childe didn’t even hesitate to tie himself up in a hair harness and jump out of a high-up window. While Zhongli mustered the courage to jump down, Childe inhaled the crisp air surrounding him. This was his last moment of freedom.

***

Zhongli was surprised at the speed with which the mysterious man, Childe, freed himself from his hair; Zhongli hadn’t even the chance to jump down yet (although, he was aware that he was taking a long time). Finally, he took a breath, closed his eyes, and jumped. He was less afraid of death and more afraid of betraying his obligations, his deal with that woman: his mother.

As far as he could possibly remember, Zhongli had always lived in that tower. He spent most of his time in complete solitude, but it wasn’t a lonely existence. He enjoyed immersing himself into books, absorbing all the information they had to give him. Whenever he was reading, he was always filled with a slight nostalgia, which his mother once simply explained, “Maybe you’ve just read too many books. Aren’t they all starting to blend together?” But that wasn’t remotely true. Each book stood out vividly in his mind.

This, however, was the first time he would physically step foot out of his tower. The gentle compression of the earth under his feet set his heart aflutter with excitement and trepidation. Although tiny particles of dirt were displaced in a cloud by his movement, the ground beneath was an unbudging solid. Yet, despite its sturdiness, the ground had already powdered a thin veneer of dirt on the soles of Zhongli's shoes.

As Zhongli stared at his feet, the residual dirt morphed into evidence of a crime; there was no way this dirt wouldn't leave a trail when he returned to the tower. Then, his mother would undeniably know that he had broken the "contract" of their living conditions.

While Zhongli and his mother had never officiated the terms of their coexistence, they had abided by them in mutual understanding since Zhongli could remember: so long as Zhongli was obedient and never left the tower, his mother would provide for and protect him. It was only natural.

If Zhongli's mother were to discover he had left, she would have every right to be angered by his unjustifiable betrayal. She had cared for him all these years without fault. To leave was an act of ingratitude, a suggestion that she had not been good enough, when she, in fact, had. But worse still, what if she returned before Zhongli? How much would she fret and worry over his selfish decision? A display of lanterns he could distantly make out from his window was not worth her suffering. Maybe it was better if he went back and pretended this little exit never happened.

But it was already too late to completely erase the evidence of his departure, in which case, Zhongli had no choice but to look forward. Besides, he was probably old enough to make this decision. The contract, although unofficial, had no end term, but it surely couldn't last this long. Zhongli had already reached a maturity where he could take care of himself. As it was, as he grew older, the length and frequency of his mother's trips had grown incrementally. She trusted him on his own. The only difference was that now he would also be taking an excursion.

Zhongli’s own journey started on the other shore of the lake. While he was in his tower, Zhongl had not appreciated the movements of the water: the gentle lapping against the sand and the harsh crashes against the small cliffs. At the center of these interactions was the same lake with the same calm waves. Near the shore, the crystalline blue water refracted shallow shadow patterns on the sand, but as the water grew deeper and murkier, the ground disappeared altogether. As short a distance as the lake seemed to span, it was nevertheless insurmountable.

Zhongli couldn’t swim. As he stared across the waters to the other shore where plants and slimes coexisted, he realized that swimming was just a small obstacle. On the other side, there would be creatures and people that Zhongli wouldn’t be able to handle. He could hardly imagine what was out there. Zhongli was trapped by the dirt which soiled his shoes and the water which would engulf him.

But, it wasn’t all hopeless nor unknown. There was one factor Zhongli had not yet factored in: Childe. Unlike Zhongli, Childe was experienced in travelling and in society as a whole. Zhongli was not exploring on his own; Childe would guide him. From that perspective, most of Zhongli’s fears were trivial.

However, Zhongli’s greatest fear was Childe himself. The man’s entire presence was a mystery. Both his arrival and motivations were dubious. Although he carried himself casually (probably a pretense to make Zhongli lower his guard), Childe seemed dangerous and unpredictable. Zhongli questioned the intentions of every move he made as he tried to stay ahead. In fact, the contract was the only thing which made their cooperation possible. The contract not only assured that Zhongli would achieve his goal, but also that when it was all over, he would be safe from Childe. The contract was written in such a way that even if Childe were to ask about his hair for his treasure, Zhongli could escape without worrying about his secrets being spilled nor Childe coming after him.

Well, it couldn’t hurt to ask about Childe’s target before they set off. “Childe,” Zhongli called to him as he fidgeted with the mask in his hair. “What exactly are you looking for?”

"Do you have to ask that already? Let's save some of the fun for later, shall we?"

So he's employing the privacy clause for a matter as simple as this?

Childe's constructed smile quickly vanished. "Well, I suppose I should tell you something. I'm looking for a treasure beyond human imagination, something worthy of a goddess."

Just as Zhongli thought, he could not trust Childe at all. Though Childe wouldn't say, Zhongli knew what he was after, and he wouldn't let him have it.

Childe must have noticed Zhongli's scowl because he quickly forced another laugh. "Hey, don't worry about it for now. Your job right now is to keep your eyes open and enjoy the world!"

If that's all there was to it, Zhongli could certainly manage this journey, but he'd be keeping his eyes on Childe first and foremost.

#Genshin Impact #Chili #Childe #Zhongli

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imaginedanganronpa · 5 years

Note

Can I please get a scenario where Shuichi is in love w/ the reader, but he doesn't think they like him back because he thinks they have feelings for one of the other boys in the class (your choice of who). Some angst to fluff??

The Requester specified in another ask that this is about jealousy as well! And I love me some good angst to fluff action, but wow I did not realize how long this one is. I hope you like it!! This one was a lot of fun :)

Saihara Shuichi Gets Jealous When He Thinks His Crush Has Feelings For Someone Else!

Saihara bitterly pressed his beading forehead into the palm of his hand, clenching his other into a tight fist at his side. Hiscold, trembling hands soothed the burning flesh on his skin, hot with anger andfrustration.

His mind was a tangled mess of emotions, too much for the Detective to handle.Why did you have to be so incredibly wonderful? So beautiful? So enthralling?Why did you have to run through his mind all day, why wouldn’t you leave hisconscious?

The questions swirled around his mind as his legs folded beneath the tinycafeteria seat. Kaede, whom was sitting directly beside him, noticed this andsensed that something was wrong – in fact, the blonde has already worked outSaihara’s feelings for you. She was helpless, though, and unable to say or do anything to put his wandering mind to rest.

Could someone as bright as you ever fall for someone like him? He wasn’t sosure.

You were like sunlight after weeks of rain. Every time Saihara sees you, his heartbeats against his chest, a cruel orchestra of feelings rushing through his veinslike adrenaline. All he ever wanted to do was bask in your presence, tell youhow much he cared for you and press his body against yours. And after all theseyears, he could still barely hold a conversation with you.

It was torture – pure heart-wrenching torture.

A vacant memory flashed in Saihara’s mind – of when you attended a summerfestival together, and the way you tugged on his hand while guiding him to aphoto-booth. He remembered how the sun was setting and the neon glow of the carnival rides and booths at the festival made you look heavenly, and his hand shook sohard cupped inside of yours.

Of course, it wasn’t just the two of you. A group of your close friends all went together to the festival – Kaede was there, and so were Kaito and Maki… and him.

He made Saihara want to disappear. The Detective was nothing in comparison andhe made the miserable boy want to escape from these feelings; of course thatwould also mean escaping from you, despite everything…

Kaede tapped on his shoulder, trying to comfort him, but Saihara just wanted tobe alone. He stood and trudged out of the cafeteria – he’d much rather endurethis torture than be away from you, even if you didn’t reciprocate hisfeelings.

But he was stopped in his tracks at the sight before him – in the entrance ofthe cafeteria. You were standing there, your face bright and smiling, with hisdamned arm wrapped around you. Him being Rantaro Amami, the man that most ofthe people in your class fawned over. The man who could get anyone he wantedwith his good looks and charm, and you were no exception.

He couldn’t hear what you two were talking about, but the blood rushed toSaihara’s cheeks faster than he could comprehend. His heart began to ache andhe felt his stomach flip, suddenly feeling nauseous. Jealously bloomed in hischest and he gripped his heart tightly, his knuckles turning a pale white.

He wanted Rantaro to get the Hell away from you, to stop touching you so much.His hands formed fists again and he fought the animalistic, instinctual urge toforcibly remove you from the taller man. The green-haired man was moving closerand closer to you as you talked, and Saihara wished he could gain the courage to throw the firstpunch, gritting his teeth angrily.

Then, a feeling of… shame washed over him. This was Rantaro he was directinghis hostility towards – one of the greatest friends he has ever known, and one of the kindest people in his class. He was friendly towards most people and wouldflirt without realizing or intending to. His arm around you and your closeness didn’tnecessarily mean romance!

And what right did Saihara have to feel this way? You weren’t his, probablynever would be. Even though that fact pained him.

He quickly turned on his heels and made his way towards the other exit, keepinghis head down so no one saw the tears gathering on his lash-line. He has neverbeen a jealous person so why did he feel this way now? So envious and inferiortowards one of his friends.

Fuck. Saihara hated feeling like this! Despised it! Tears were starting to flowfreely down his cheeks because he hated the constant ache in his chest,longing to be in Rantaro’s place, hated the utter jealously he felt and couldn’t containtowards one of his best friends. More than anything, he hated that he wasn’t goodenough for you, and that he could pine after you all he wanted but nothing wouldchange the way he felt – like you deserved so much better than him, and the wayyou looked at Rantaro spoke volumes.

“Shu-Shuichi?” A familiar shaky voice called his name and he froze. What didthe universe or whatever-higher-power have against him?

Standing just a few feet away, watching him cry whilst radiating concern, wasthe unattainable object of his affections – you.

Saihara’s tormented eyes met yours and you rushed forward, falling to your knees.To make matters worse, he noticed a worried-looking Rantaro still standing inthe doorway, watching you in a tantalizing way with crossed arms. Still, you cupped his face andstared at him with nothing but love and concern. His heart was breaking knowingthat you saw him like this, and that he did, too.

Little did either of you know that you were indirectly responsible for hisfeelings and tears.

“Shuichi, are you hurt? Did someone hurt you?” He couldn’t handle it, why did you carefor him so deeply? Why did he have to fall so madly in love with you?

Biting his lip, Saihara finally came to terms with his emotions and the factthat he was desperately in love with you. He finally accepted it, although that still wouldn’t changea thing nor give him any peace of mind.

“I’m what’s wrong, (Y/N). I’m so in love with you, I have been for years, and Ifeel so jealous when I see you with Ran- other guys, and it hurts to know thatI’m not good enough for you!” Heavy silence fell between the two of you, andthat combined with his sudden outburst and confession made Saihara want to pullhis knees into his chest and disappear.

He shut his eyes tightly and prepared himself for the inevitable moment that he’s beenputting off for so long now – the moment when you would finally reject him andbreak off all ties.

Instead, he felt a wet, warm pressure against his forehead and his eyes shot open.Your gentle, loving face was smiling back at him, very faintly, after you just kissed his skin. “Who said you weren’tgood enough for me? That just… isn’t true,” your fingers wipe away his stillfalling tears and then helped Saihara to his feet once again.

“Is that why you left the cafeteria without a word?” You continue, “were youjealous of Rantaro? Oh, Shuichi, there’s nothing to worry about. He’s just afriend! Please, believe me when I say that you’re more than enough for me.”

He was… dazed and confused, and unsure of how to react. This wasn’t rejection?Your words about Rantaro only eased Saihara’s mind a little, and he was startingto feel as though he over-thought everything.

Your embrace caused all his thoughts to cease and he felt a moment of comfort,for the first time in so long. For the first time, the thoughts and concernsabout you that danced around in his mind were put to rest, even just for a fleeting moment.

“Don’t you see how wonderful you are? Don’t you see everything I fell in lovewith and want to be with?” Now your voice was breaking and Saihara’s heartjumped into his throat. He shakes his head and steps out of your arms, “You… loveme?” He was almost afraid to ask.

But your gentle smile tugged at his heart-strings and caused him to relax.Nodding, you confirm, “I do love you, Shuichi, no one else, but I didn’t think you felt thesame way.” Then, you step closer and pull his head down so that you can pressyour forehead against his, gazing into his beautiful eyes. Your sparkling gazemeets his tenderly and he couldn’t help but to let a single tear fall, but thistime it was a tear of relief.

There was still some lingering doubt, but it started making sense. The way yougrabbed his hand at the festival, the way you looked at him even right now, andthe way Rantaro treated not only you but everyone else around you… after fearingthe worst for so long, Saihara internally pinched himself for not taking hischance sooner.

And for letting his jealously get the best of him. After all, that’s completelyout of his character.

Throwing his fears and doubts to the wind, the Detective leaned forward andsoftly pressed his lips against yours tentatively, feeling you smile into thekiss. You reciprocate enthusiastically and wrapped your arms around Saihara’s neckas his hands find your waist, pulling you closer until there was hardly any spacebetween your bodies.

He was happier in this moment than he has been in months, and his insecuritiesand jealously disappeared into your warmth and love.

Yours and Saihara’srelationship was reborn into something new, exciting, and beautiful.

- Mod Rantaro

#danganronpa #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa v3 #ndrv3 #ndrv3 imagines #killing harmony #shuichi saihara #saihara shuichi #saihara shuuichi

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modreduscycle · 5 years

Text

Uther and Merlin Pt. 8

Aka The Final Battle or JESUS CHRIST, UTHER!

The secondary title there is really not a joke. Uther + Vortigern = Nothing good. Warning for violence, death, and a bit of torture.

“Come out and fight, Vortigern!” Aurelius yelled, Merlin using magic to amplify his voice so it echoed up to the castle towers. “Face the consequences of your actions! Face your own karma as if you actually had honor!”

Damn, if Merlin didn’t know better, he would’ve thought Aurelius had actually gotten more than four hours of sleep last night with a speech like that.

Beside him, Uther bounced on his heels impatiently, clad entirely in armor. Merlin just stared in fear and wonder at the grand city of Camelot. Vortigern presumably hadn’t taken good care of it, for the stories of grandeur Aurelius and Uther had told him were vastly different than the run down, spike-laden walls he saw now, but the majesty was still there. With a little work, it wouldn’t take much to restore it to its former glory. That is, if they survived the day. It had taken so long to get to this point, so many deaths, but now, the final battle was at their feet.

The response to Aurelius’s challenge was a barrage of arrows, which Merlin had to guard against as the army rushed forward, with battering rams and weapons and fury. Even though he knew it was all in his head, the stench of fresh blood already filled his nostrils, making him gag.

A hand grabbed his and started to pull him toward the fighting. He looked up with wide, scared eyes into excited blue ones. “Come on! It’s finally time!” The expression on Uther’s face was almost manic, to the point where Merlin felt a little relief when he turned around to see where he was running to. That feeling managed to scare him more than the battle, if he was being honest.

It didn’t take long to break down the gates. Vortigern’s forces were scattered across the land, dealing with peasant revolts as the common folk realized that the time had come where they didn’t have to deal with his shit anymore. The ones that were here had been consolidated inside the city rather than meeting Aurelius’s forces on a proper battlefield, thus putting the populous at risk. Aurelius had given the order that no civilians were to be harmed, but in the heat of battle, such an order could be hard to follow, or ignored by some completely. Merlin trusted that Ulfius would obey, and he hoped Uther would as well, but honestly, he wasn’t entirely sure. Uther could get a little ruthless in combat.

Case in point, Merlin thought as a splatter of blood coated his front as Uther decapitated an enemy soldier. The manic laughing of the prince rang out across the screams and anguished final yells as soldiers fell to the ground, dead seconds after their bodies hit the dirt. The dust that was kicked up in the chaos seemed to have a slight red hue to it and so many awful smells surrounded the fighting. Rank sweat, metallic blood, grainy dust swirled around the air, stabbing into his nostrils, pooling into his lungs, even worse than how he had imagined it.

Uther just kept pulling him along and if it wasn’t for the warmth of his blood-soaked hand, Merlin would’ve broken down, covering his ears, right then and there to drown out all the commotion, all the death, all the destruction.

Anytime a blade lashed out at them, Merlin shielded them from the attack while Uther retaliated. They ran up to the castle, doors shut tight. Uther slammed at it with a closed fist, then turned to Merlin, eyes cold and deadly. “Destroy it.”

For once, Merlin had no objection to this request. Lightning crackling at his fingertips, he held out both hands and let the power flow through him, blasting down the door and sending it rocketing inside. The heavy wood mowed down many guards stationed inside, and the rest were quickly taken care of by Uther. His viciousness, his blade slicing through the enemy, all of it seemed more ruthless, more angry than usual. He was so close, so close to having Vortigern on his knees before him, one of his greatest desires. Merlin knew all of this, but the sight of Uther no longer smiling, his face hardened into something primal, hateful, scared him infinitely more than when the prince had been maniacally laughing while cutting down his enemies.

Uther stormed over and grabbed Merlin’s hand. “Come on, I know where he’d be.” Without waiting, he pulled the wizard behind him, climbing stairs and taking advantage of Merlin’s shields to kill without fear any soldiers that got in their way. Merlin wanted to tell Uther to stop, to let him use some magic to incapacitate rather than decapitate, but something stopped him. He could feel his hands shaking and tried to tell himself he was only afraid of the battle, not his friend. Uther wouldn’t hurt him, Uther would never hurt him. But it didn’t stop the fear from creeping into his veins. He blasted down a door at the top of the staircase when Uther ordered him to, despite wanting his friend to wait and think for a second.

Merlin’s first impression of Vortigern was… anticlimactic. He wasn’t big, muscled, or brawny. He was actually quite thin, as if he hadn’t been eating well. He had bright blond hair, stringy and slightly graying. He didn’t look like a personification of evil, but when he turned to face them, his eyes told a different story. Merlin saw spite, cruelty, cowardice, and everything in him said that this man was a lowdown rat. He smiled when he saw Uther, actually smiled, a crescent-moon shaped lecherous grin, that froze the prince in place. “Is that little Uther all grown up? You and your brother are hard to pin down. And who’s this? A servant? One of your vassals? A friend?”

His voice was surprisingly amicable, throwing Merlin off for a second, but he knew this was all a ruse. No one was this genuinely friendly when faced with the boy whose father they killed and paraded in front of his children. Uther gritted his teeth. “You’re going to die, you son of a bitch.”

Vortigern sighed and shook his head. “I really don’t think I will. Remember? I knew you growing up. I babysat you, and your brother. Aurelius? I suppose he might have it in him to kill me, unarmed and in cold blood, if he had to, but you?” Vortigern shook his head. “You were such a cute kid, running around, catching butterflies, falling into hysterics when you saw a dead bird. It took ages to calm you down and afterward, you insisted on a grand funeral for that little robin.”

He took a fearless step forward and Merlin saw something glinting up his sleeve, but knew Uther didn’t, the prince’s hateful gaze was focused on Vortigern’s face. “Uther, I know you’re a kind boy. You don’t know what hate really is, so I know you can’t, and won’t, kill—” He was cut off mid-word by Uther’s sword running through his chest, a little off from his heart or lungs. The dagger hidden up his sleeve clattered to the floor and Uther only showed a little surprise by its existence.

“Let me explain something to you.” Uther’s voice was cold as he shoved Vortigern to the floor. “You don’t know me. You knew what I was like, but you don’t know how much I want to make you suffer, and how little I give a shit about whether it is ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ to end your pathetic existence. I know you can’t see the literal wagonload of corpses I created to get up here, but know they’re there, so believe me, I’m absolutely killing you, and I’m absolutely making it painful.”

Vortigern was gasping on the floor, holding the stab wound with one hand and shaking, staring up at Uther with wide eyes, shock and fear in them. Uther smiled, then stomped on his twitching hand with an armored boot. The crunch resounded throughout the room and made Merlin cover his ears just in time for Vortigern’s anguished scream to come bursting out of the man’s lungs. The smile on the prince’s face widened, and he proceeded to do the same thing with the other hand, only this time he dug in with his heel for a few seconds, grinding the bones.

“You killed my father. You murdered my mother. You have tried to kill my brother and me for basically our entire. Goddamned. Lives.” As Uther spoke, he callously and oh-so-casually stepped on Vortigern’s wrist, at one point standing on just that foot, then twirled his sword around in a circle. “You really think I give a single shit about your life, other than how painfully I can end it? Speaking of which, Merlin?” Uther glanced over his shoulder, taking the opportunity to stomp on the other wrist. “Got any suggestions?”

“W- what?” Merlin could hardly believe the man in front of him was the same one who had offered him a home, friends, a purpose only a couple years ago.

“Is it possible to boil someone’s blood in their veins? Rip their muscles apart slowly? Make them vomit up their own digestive tract? Anything along those lines,” Uther asked.

“U- Uther, your father wouldn’t want—” Merlin somehow knew that was the exact wrong thing for Vortigern to say even before Uther reacted. The blue eyes flashed with anger before Uther turned around and impaled his sword directly into Vortigern’s knee. The scream this time was even worse than the others, which only increased in pain and volume as Uther wiggled the blade around, dislodging the kneecap beyond repair.

Shaking with fear, but unable to take any more, Merlin whispered, “Uther.” The prince paid no attention, but simply focused his gaze on the other knee. The world spinning from his own fear, the noise, and all the smells, Merlin managed to find his voice. “Uther!”

“Did you remember something?” asked Uther, only sounding vaguely interested, but more annoyed by the interruption.

“Stop. Just stop. You’ve won, he’s suffered, let him die,” Merlin begged.

Uther rounded on him, hand still on his sword. “Did you forget the shit he’s done to you, too? He gave those psychopathic bastards who would make you into nothing more than a breeding cow more power and permission to do whatever the hell they wanted! Why the hell shouldn’t I take my glorious time making sure every second of the life he has left is agony?”

“It- Uther this is wrong!” Merlin had no idea how else to say it, how else to convince him. How on earth could Uther not understand this? “This is torture for the sake of torture! You’re not getting anything out of this! Let him die!”

“I’m getting a deep sense of euphoria from this,” Uther retorted.

“I- I- I…” The words left Merlin and he quickly found himself unable to speak. Uther turned his attention back to Vortigern and continued in the same vein as he had before. Magic tingled at his fingertips, and before he was even aware of what he had done, Merlin sent out a quick, but powerful shock. The lightning hit Vortigern’s body, unnoticed by Uther, and Vortigern’s scream stopped, his body going limp.

Uther took a step back and spat on the floor. “Weak son of a…” His hands shook and he stormed back over to the corpse, grabbing it angrily as he sheathed his sword. He dragged it over to the balcony and kicked open the doors. Merlin quickly put up a shield around him and followed as Uther threw the body over the railing, holding it by one arm. “Your false king is dead!” he yelled. Somehow, even without Merlin doing anything to amplify his voice, the cry rang out across the city. The sounds of fighting slowed and finally almost stopped entirely. A crowd soon started to gather, staring up at the dead, mutilated body hanging from the balcony. “He’s dead like the dog he is! Long live King Aurelius!”

“Long live King Aurelius!”

The cry started among only their own soldiers, but soon the common townsfolk took up the cheer, and eventually even many of the enemy soldiers, some probably just in a desperate attempt to save their own hides. Merlin couldn’t see Aurelius from here, but knew he had to hear the oath of fealty ringing up to the heavens.

The war was over.

#arthuriana #Uther and Merlin #arthurian #Arthurian legend #arthurian literature #Arthurian Mythology #merlin #tw violence #tw torture

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ronniesqueen · 5 years

Text

A Journey To Find True Love

We start off with Archie as the bachelor, Ronnie is in his season. The story progresses, and she becomes the next bachelorette after he finishes his season. Both of them go on their journey to find true love.

I will be writing this AU in the form of a tv show. Since, we all know that “The Bachelor” and “The Bachelorette” are reality tv shows.

Previously on “The Bachelor”

Archie sends Ethel and Valerie home at the rose ceremony, knowing he has deeper feelings for the other women.

Ethel had no hard feelings whatsoever, and she wished Archie the best as they parted ways

Valerie, on the other hand, called him out on making “easier choices” with the other women.

She also told him to not get distracted by the “shiny objects”

Leaving everyone shook.

Ronnie, Josie, Betty, and Cheryl remain.

Archie is meeting their families this week!!!!

Archie and Betty went on their hometown date

When Alice gave Archie a hard time

Would you expect her not to? LMAO

Archie and Veronica went on their hometown date too

Hiram gave Archie an even worse time

But...he came around, after pondering what Archie could bring the table, if he were to be a part of their “family“ ….

I know these last two episodes have been really light hearted and every ship has had really sweet moments so far,

Which is what I wanted, because I’m a multi-shipper.

BUT....

Are ya’ll ready for some tea?

Today’s episode will bring some drama and tea ;D

Okay.

Without further ado,

Buckle up, buckaroos!!!

Week Four.

Archosie’s Hometown Date

(setting: Confessional Booth)

Archie sat down, and sighed. “This morning I was at Pops. And, Valerie walked in. She apologized to me for what she said to me, after I sent her home last rose ceremony. So we’re good now. No hard feelings. But....she did tell me something else. And I have no idea what to make of it.”

He buried his face in his hands. “I don’t know what to do. And I’m scared. I just... want to be able to enjoy this day with Josie. But I have so much just knawing at my brain. I don’t know what to do. I really don’t.”

(setting: Andrews Household)

“What should I do?” Archie asked Fred, sitting at the breakfast table.

“Well,” Fred said, sighing. “There’s no way of knowing who’s telling you the truth. But also keep in mind that next week is fantasy suites. Whoever you decide to believe, whoever you decide to trust, needs to make it through.”

Mary entered the room. “I would say call up the exes. Every girl you sent home already, and ask them what they think. They have no reason to lie to you. What would they gain from lying? You already dumped them.”

“Or you can just ask Valerie who she was talking about instead of having those awkward conversations with girls who probably aren’t too thrilled with you,” Jughead smirked, taking a bite from his pancake.

Archie, Fred, and Mary gave Jughead a look.

“Just putting that out there,” Jughead chuckled nervously.

Archie pulled out his phone, and dialed Ethel.

(setting: Pops)

“Thank you for meeting me,” Archie said. “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve actually been doing really well,” Ethel said, with a genuine smile.

“I’m so glad to hear that,” Archie responded.

“Have you been, reaching out to every girl? Or just me?” Ethel laughed.

Archie leaned forward. “Just you. Because, when we had our one-on-one, you showed me that you have a really genuine heart. I don’t believe that you’d ever lie, Ethel. I don’t think being malicious or deceitful is part of who you are.”

She smiled. “Thank you for that.”

“So, I have something I want to ask you. And, I want you to be as honest as I know you really are,” Archie said, getting choked up.

“Aww,” Ethel said sympathetically, rubbing his shoulders. “What’s wrong Archie?”

He took a deep breath. “I was told, by Valerie, that there is someone, or multiple women, who...”

“Aren’t here for the right reasons,” she finished his sentence.

“My greatest fear going into this, was falling in love with someone who is just going through the motions and isn’t ready. I don’t want to get down on one knee and propose to someone who...who..” he said, when his voice cracked, and a tear fell from his eye.

Ethel took his hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“Do you...?” He began.

She sighed. “I heard some things. I saw some things. It was a little bit, disheartening. But I never told you because I didn’t think it was my place. I wanted you to figure out on your own whether or not someone is who they say they are.”

He briefly smiled. “Thank you for respecting me enough to do that. But honestly, I had no idea. If Valerie hadn’t said anything, I never would’ve known.”

(setting: Confessional Booth)

“I don’t believe in tearing other women down. But Archie’s heart is on the line. As well as his fucking sanity. So yes, I am going to spill the tea...” Ethel said to the camera.

(setting: Pops)

Ethel shut her eyes. Took a deep breath. Then she met his eyes.

“I don’t think Cheryl and Josie are genuine.”

Archie’s eyes grew wide.

“I overheard them having a conversation during the first group date. They were making fun of Melody, Valerie, and Betty. And when were in the limo on our way to the cocktail party, I overheard them having an even worse conversation....”

Archie stared at her, taking everything in.

“The terms “winning” and “playing the game” were said. But Archie....” she whispered. “They were already talking about being the next bachelorette.”

Archie’s jaw dropped, and he immediately put his face in hands.

“Well, you.... you would have no reason to lie. So, I will, um...” Archie said, still in shock. Unable to meet her eyes. He sighed. “I’m not upset with you. It’s just that....this sucks, you know?”

“I know. And I’m so sorry. I’m also really sorry that you had to find out like this.”

He finally looked up at her. He smiled. “Thank you, Ethel. I really appreciate you.”

She hugged him. “You were there for me. I’m here for you, too. Good luck with everything. I know this sucks but you really just need to trust your heart.”

“I don’t know how at this point.”

“Sure you do!” Ethel said cheerfully. “Just talk to them. Hear them out. Maybe they have a logical explanation. Or maybe they don’t. But whether they are genuine or they aren’t, what happens next is really just up to you Archie.”

(setting: Riverdale Town Hall)

Archie lead Josie, as she was wearing a blindfold.

“Okay,” he said, hugging her from behind. “Take off your blindfold.” Josie removed her blindfold to see a large beautiful stage with white flowers all over it, and twinkly blue lights.

She gasped. “You did this for me?”

“I’m sorry that it’s at the town hall. I would’ve loved to build you a stage at the park, but I didn’t have much time, and-”

Josie kissed him. “I love it.”

“I’m glad,” Archie said. Grabbing a microphone. “Called you for the first time yesterday. Finally found the missing part of me,” he sang.

Josie playfully took the microphone away from him. “Felt so close but you were far away,” she sang. “Left me without anything to say.”

They leaned towards each other, sharing the microphone. “Now I’m speechless, over the edge, I’m just breathless, I never thought I could catch this lovebug again. Hopeless, head over heels in the moment, I never thought I could get hit by this lovebug again.”

They kissed briefly when he pulled away. “Josie, I’m sorry. I don’t think it’s fair to you that we’re doing this while I have a lot of stuff on my mind.”

She was taken aback. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, this isn’t your fault. Believe me, I really want to enjoy this day with you. But...I need to get something off my chest.”

“I kinda felt like you weren’t saying something,” she commented.

They sat down on the stage.

“I had some conversations with some of the women who I’ve eliminated. And they told me...” he began. “Well, you already know serious I am about wanting an engagement out of this, more than anything.”

“Right,” she said, nodding.

“So you understand then, why it would...really feel like I got punched in the gut, if I were to find out someone I’m crazy about, isn’t here for the right reasons.”

She closed her eyes. “They said it was me. Didn’t they?”

Archie just stared at her.

“Well,” Josie said, standing up. “If you even believe that for a second, then how much do you really trust me, Archie?”

“Of course I trust you Josie,” Archie said, standing up as well. “But I just want to know why multiple women would say this about you if there wasn’t a reason behind it.”

She sighed. “What exactly did they say?”

“They said that you were already talking about being the next bachelorette.”

“Okay,” she said calmly. “I’ve never in my life actually thought about being the next bachelorette. I did mention it to Cheryl, but only because I was telling her that, if you and I get engaged at the end of this, then I pray that she’s the next bachelorette so that she can have her happy ending too.”

Archie smiled. “I can...actually picture you saying that.”

“Cheryl and I got really close. And, she said the same thing back to me. That if you were to choose her at the end of this, then she hopes I become the next bachelorette so that I can find my person too.”

He grinned. “That sounds more like the Josie I know.”

She kissed him. “I don’t know who told you about that conversation but honestly, they took it out of context. I was never saying that I only came to be the next bachelorette. I came here for you. Because I do see something in you.”

“I wish I would’ve just gone to you directly.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But honestly, I just thought it was an innocent conversation between girl friends. I never thought it would be used against me.”

He put his arms around her, kissing her some more. “That’s part of the reason I was so shocked. When Valerie told me she knew someone wasn’t here for the right reasons, I thought to myself, “she can’t be talking about Josie””

Josie’s eyes narrowed. “Valerie, huh?”

“Oh shoot,” Archie said, realizing his mistake. “I don’t want any tension between you guys, which was why I didn’t plan on saying any names. But..that was an accident.”

She smiled. “No, it’s okay. I actually really like that we’re talking about this. Shows how strong our connection is.”

He kissed her hand. “Tell me about your family. Who am I meeting tonight?”

“Just my mom. My dad is still on the road. He sent his apologies. But he does know how much I care for you, and how happy we are when we’re together. So...” she giggled. “IF you were to meet him in person someday down the road, he’d give you his blessing.”

He smiled wide. “That’s amazing!”

She bit her lip. “It’s my mom you’ll have to convince.”

(setting: McCoy Household)

Archie and Josie stood, outside the house.

“Are you nervous, lover boy?” she giggled.

“I am,” he admitted. “I’m meeting the mayor.”

She laughed. “Just be yourself. And she’ll probably approve.”

He smiled.

She opened the door.

“Josie!” her mother cheered as she ran to her and greeted her with a hug. She smiled at Archie. “You must be the bachelor himself.”

“Mayor McCoy, it's truly an honor to meet you.”

She shook his hand. “You can call me Sierra.”

“Everything’s been going really well so far,” Josie said. “He’s been such a gem.”

“I would hope so. You deserve nothing but the best.”

Archie glanced at the piano. “Do you play, Sierra?”

Sierra laughed. “Of course not, I bought it for Josie.”

“My mom’s always been really supportive of my singing career. She’s never missed a single show, and always helped me with everything I needed.”

Archie smiled. “That’s truly heartwarming.”

“And I always will,” Sierra said. “Archie, can you give us a minute?”

“Absolutely.”

Josie and Sierra went upstairs to Josie’s bedroom, and sat down on the bed. “What’d you think?” Josie asked, giggling.

“You two seem really happy,” Sierra said. She sighed. “Can you honestly tell me that this is what you want? To be engaged?”

Josie sat there for a moment. She felt as if the moment was finally hitting her. “This ends with an engagement..” she whispered.

“Hasn’t Archie said that to you before?”

“Of course he has, all the time. And I really thought I was ready for that. When I first came on the show, and I met him, I really felt like this could happen. Like, I saw it. Mom, I really saw it. But now...”

“What is it?”

“We still have so much we need to figure out before we can even get there. What if my career takes off and I need to travel on the road? He can’t just put his life on hold to come with me. And, long distance wouldn’t work for months at a time...”

“Your father and I dealt with that. But it was more-so because we had simply fallen out of love. These feelings you have for Archie, can you see them lasting for a lifetime? Or do you see it possibly fading away with time apart from being on the road?”

“I....” Josie said. “I don’t know. I’ve been so optimistic about our relationship that I guess I haven’t.....looked at it from every angle. I’m not afraid of commitment, I’m just...thinking that we don’t want the same type of commitment.”

(setting: Downstairs.)

Sierra came down stairs. She sat down across from Archie. “I’m not rooting against you by any means. I simply want to know...can you see yourself with Josie long term?”

He grinned. “I absolutely can.”

“You know how seriously she takes her singing career.”

“I will support that in every way I possibly can.”

She leaned forward. “I think you two need to dig deep into what you want. What you really, truly want. And, if everything aligns, then I completely will give you my blessing to marry her.”

Archie pondered that for a moment.

(setting: Outside the house.)

Archie and Josie stood, making out by the sidewalk.

“You know how much I appreciate you,” Josie said.

“You know I’m crazy about you,” Archie responded.

“I’m crazy about you too,” she giggled.

He softly touched her cheek. “I want you to know that I will always support you. Anything you decide with your singing career. And I’m so proud of you for really pursuing your dreams..”

She kissed him. “Archie..” she paused. Then smiled. “I’m falling in love with you.”

“I’m falling in love with you, Josie.”

They kissed for a few more minutes when Archie’s limo arrived. “I’ll see you at the rose ceremony.”

“Yes you will.”

He got inside the limo, she watched, smiling, as it drove away.

-------------------END CREDITS-------------------

#archosie

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davethepantless · 5 years

Text

The Coffee Shop - Part 5

"I swear if I do this any longer I'm gonna go fucking crazy!"

The thought echoed through John's brain as he lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Since he had no plans for this Saturday, he tried to convince himself that he had no real reason to get out of bed. Some days it was just easier to ignore the world, than it was to take part.

John thought back to his conversation with Ann the waitress the previous night. It had gone nothing like what he expected. John had expected to either face a towering storm of righteous anger or a series of meaningless platitudes on how "nice" people are supposed act. Instead he found in Ann a most intriguing mind. Although he disagreed with several of her arguments, John had to reluctantly admit that they were well thought out and carefully reasoned. In a world driven by simple "paint by numbers" thinking, it was refreshing to meet someone who could hold up their end of a conversation.

Feeling a more intrigued by her than he'd been by anyone for a long while, John decided slowly got out of bed and went in search of some clothes. While putting on his shoes, John attempted to come up with some sort of reasonable explanation as to why he should go down to the coffee shop by his work rather than just hit the one in his apartment building.

Lost in thought for several moments, John finally gave up trying to resist. Although he had no valid reason, at least not one that he was willing to admit to himself at this point, John decided that he was going anyway. Ann might not even be working today, but John knew he needed to get out of the apartment regardless. Being alone with his thoughts for too long had never been a good thing.

As he locked the door to his apartment, John noticed the fellow who lived across from him coming down the hall. Although they'd lived directly across the hall from each other for over 3 years now, John always struggled to remember the man's name. It seemed like everyone in the building did their best to ignore the fact that there were other people living there. Eye contact was to be avoided at all costs, but if by some fluke chance you did make eye contact with one of your neighbours, then a polite nod would be the only acknowledgment given.

Walking down to the bus stop, John thought about yesterday's revelation that Ann was psychology student. "What sort of person signs up for something like that?", he idly wondered, "Who would volunteer to dive into another person's dark twisted mess of a psyche?"

He deftly avoided thinking about the real question which was why had Ann been studying him in the first place. That question raised too many other questions.

A quick fifteen minute bus ride later and John was a few blocks from the coffee shop. It surprised him how many times he tried to talk himself out of going to the shop in the 3 minutes it took him to walk there. We wondered briefly if anyone else struggled with something as simple as this.

The disappointment John felt when he walked through the door of the coffee shop and saw another waitress behind the counter surprised him. "Why the hell do I even care?", he thought to himself, "It's not like I even really know her."

Well since he was here, John figured he might as well grab something. Going back to the deafening silence of his apartment held no appeal to him. In a paradox that puzzled him to this day, John found that while he was uncomfortable being around people, he also hated to be alone. Thus he often ended up sitting at his own table in crowded coffee shops and pubs, giving him the illusion of company, without the demands on his attention that other person would require.

Ordering his coffee from yet another overly cheerful waitress, John sat down at a table in the corner and wondered what to do with the rest of his day. He always felt like he should be doing something, yet nothing really appealed to him. Gazing out the window John watched the traffic drive by and idly wondered where everyone was rushing off to. It seemed like a lot of people spent their days off in the same manner in which they spent their time at work, hurriedly scurrying off to complete some obscure task.

"This is a surprise. I've never seen you here on a weekend."

Startled from his thoughts, John looked up and saw Ann staring down at him with the beginnings of a smile on her face. Her sudden appearance left him struggling to find words. John had been so lost in his thoughts, that he hadn't even seen her come through the door.

"I guess I just got tired of laying in bed and staring at the ceiling.", John replied, "I didn't know you worked here on the weekends".

"I don't." Ann answered, "I just forgot to grab my purse when I left yesterday".

John felt a twinge of disappointment, but refused to acknowledge it. "Well I'm sure like these other fine people you have a million things you'd like to do today.", John said keeping his eyes down on his coffee, "Don't let me keep you from it".

Ann stared at him for a minute before responding. "Why do you do that?" she asked sitting down across from him, "Why do you attempt isolate yourself from every other person around you"

John pondered the question for a moment before replying, "I guess for the same reason everyone else does it. Fear and stupidity."

"How so?", Ann asked, her question echoing in her eyes.

"Don't you have anything better to do than listen to me prattle on?" John said, not really feeling comfortable with the turn the conversation had taken. Although he had come to the shop in hopes of talking with her, John was starting to feel some concern about having a psychology major poking around his brain.

"I've got a few minutes left." Ann replied. She gave him a rather peculiar smile before adding "You're not getting off that easy!".

John paused to collect his thoughts for a moment before beginning. "Most people in this world cannot even deal with their own emotions, let alone the emotions of the people around them.", John started to explain, "As a result they try to put up walls isolate themselves from feelings in general, as a way of protecting themselves from future emotional trauma."

"There you go with that 'most' word.", Ann replied, "I think you are oversimplifying things once again."

"Take love for example.", John continued in spite of Ann's objections, "Love should be the greatest of all emotions, as it's one of the few things in the world that can inspire someone to put the needs of another person ahead of their own."

"Ok", Ann nodded, "I can agree with that."

"But people today have no real understanding of love, and you cannot truly value what you do not know.", John argued, "The typical person when faced with the opportunity for a real relationship with the possibility of love will turn away."

"Not that I agree with you", Ann replied, "because I don't, but please tell me why you think that is.".

John leaned forward, as he tried to make his point. "To truly love someone means you must drop the walls we all use to protect ourselves and open yourself up completely to this other person.", he said keeping his eyes locked on hers, "It's a dichotomy of strength and vulnerability that is at least partially based on chance. No matter how slowly or carefully you go, there is still a risk of either person getting hurt. Falling in love is like jumping off a cliff. You only find out what's at the bottom after you've leaped off the edge."

"Go on", Ann replied intently.

"The problem is that people are inherently cowards. Most would rather endure a grey comfortable existence rather than take the chance on something that could bring a splash of color into their lives. ", John argued, "As such your typical person would rather stay in a situation that they are unhappy with, than take a chance on something that could potentially make their lives complete, but could also possibly leave them dealing with a broken heart. "

A hint of a smile appeared on Ann's face as she remarked, "I see that Dr. Phil has some competition."

"To make matters worse, many people have already come to this exact same conclusion, which makes the whole situation that much more fucking hopeless. Assuming you manage to overcome your own fear and doubts and you actually work up the courage to take that jump off lovers leap, you could still end up heartbroken just because the other person didn't want to risk you doing it to them first. ", John said, his voice underscoring the intensity of his beliefs, "It's a vicious cycle of risk and little reward, in which the few people who are actually brave enough to take the risk have by the nature of their reward already removed themselves from the game."

Ann stared at John for several moments. When she replied, her words took him by surprise.

"Some girl really did a number on you, didn't she?"

The question was unexpected. "What possible bearing does that have on anything?" John fired back while attempting to regain his internal equilibrium, "Why would you even say that?"

"Relax John, I'm not going to ask you about it.", Ann replied with a measure of sympathy showing in her eyes, "By the way you're talking, I'm guessing you're not ready for the Band-Aids to be pulled off just yet."

"Gee … thanks", John said sarcastically.

"You keep talking about most people.", Ann started to explain, "Most people do this. Most people believe in that. But you haven't realized that most people don't matter. What matters is what you think, and what you do."

John rolled his eyes as he responded "That's because what I think and want I do has virtually no impact on the word around me".

"Perhaps, but what you think and what you do does have a significant impact on your world", Ann argued, "You can't choose how people will treat you, but you can choose how you will react to it"

"So you're saying the next time my heart gets ripped out of my chest, I can choose to be happy about it?", John asked with a look of disbelief on his face, "That I should just ignore the pain I'm feeling and wear a painted smile on my face?"

"You're twisting what I've said.", Ann said shaking her head, "We should never ignore our true feelings. At the same time, you have the choice of how to deal with every traumatic event in your life. You can either work through the emotions you are experiencing, no matter how painful they are, until you feel like you're ready to move on. Or you can obsess over it, and allow it to dictate your mood and your actions for years to come." Ann's gaze held John intently as she continued, "Only you can make that choice in your life. In the end, things only have the power that you give them."

"This time I think it's you who's guilty of greatly oversimplify things with this Hallmark card philosophy of yours.", John responded, "Real life isn't quite so neat and tidy. If human beings were solitary creatures then perhaps we wouldn't be so dependent on each other for our emotionally stability, but the fact of the matter is that all of us to a greater or lesser extent do depend on the people around us for comfort and acceptance. Given this and the natural tendency of your typical person not to risk themselves in a real relationship, it's seems most of us are doomed to a perpetual cycle of risking ourselves and then being burned for it."

"And once again you miss the obvious solution to being trapped in this perpetual cycle of yours." Ann replied sounding a little exasperated. She grabbed her purse and quickly stood up as she said "Look I've got to go, but perhaps we can continue this conversation some other day."

"Wait a minute.", John protested as Ann turned to leave, "You can't just up and leave after a statement like that. At the very least, tell me what this 'obvious' solution of yours is".

Ann walked over to his side of the table. As she leaned down to whisper in his ear, John attempted to suppress a shiver as her hair lightly cascaded over his shoulder.

"The solution is this:", Ann said in a voice John had to strain to hear, "Don't become involved with typical people."

John barely had a chance to register these words before Ann turned and walked out of the coffee shop, leaving him alone with his thoughts once more.

#creative #shortstory #writing #yyc

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imagine-loki · 7 years

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House of Cards in the Wind

TITLE: House of Cards in the Wind CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter Three AUTHOR: wolfpawn ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you were a powerful villain who was captured by S.H.I.E.L.D. and put in Cryogenic storage because there was no other way to deal with you. After doing some research, Loki learned about you and became obsessed. So much, that he looked for you and woke you up, knowing that you’d seek revenge and he would be more than willing to help. RATING: Teen and Up

NOTES/WARNINGS: This story is the result of an imagine I saw on another blog theartofimagining13. The credit for the imagine goes to the author on that page.

Warning death of minor characters and violence in this fic

“I’ve got bad news, and I’ve got really bad news.” Tony declared as he walked into the room.

“I am not sure what I want first, there are so many great options,” Barton replied sarcastically.

“Loki is back on Earth and there is no way to contact Thor.”

“Wait, which did you consider the worse news?” Banner asked.

“I thought I would start with the Loki part, what with that not being the best news I will receive today.” “Being told you had a week to live is better news than finding out Loki is here,” Romanov commented. “What does he want?” Rogers asked.

Tony pointed to the Super Soldier. “That is the question, and that is where we come in.” “Loki is dangerous, twisted and all out crazy, we only defeated him last time because he pissed off Banner enough to turn him into a rag doll.” Barton pointed out.

“Well, if it comes to that.” “Tony, no. I can’t risk…” “Look, Banner, Loki wants trouble, without Thor and the magic BDSM kit he latched onto Loki before, we need to do what we know works, and that is the other guy thrashing him.” Tony pointed out. The others were forced to agree.

“What are the Avengers exactly?”

Loki turned to see Rebecca behind him. “A group of misfits that S.H.I.E.L.D. use as attack dogs to do their bidding. A few assassins, a super soldier, and a man in a tin suit.”

“Captain America, the guy from the forties that they sent to Europe in hopes of beating Hitler and Tony Stark, a man best known for downing whiskey and getting naked with Playboy bunnies I can deal with, but assassins and what the hell is the Hulk doing with them?” Rebecca asked having scanned Loki’s mind for the information she needed.

“Why bother asking if you are only going to scan my mind regardless?” Loki asked curiously.

“Makes it easier, besides, it is rude to look into someone’s head if they are supposed to be your ally without asking first.” “I take pride in your consideration for me,” Loki stated.

Rebecca gave him a bemused look. “They are being sent to search for you.” “Let them look.” Loki scoffed.

“You are not worried?” “They battle themselves more than they battle any other.” “And the Hulk?”

Loki’s calm exterior faltered for a second. “I underestimated the beast last time, it will not happen again.” He paraphrased her own words.

“I am to assist I take it if he cannot see you, he cannot harm you. That is why me?” “You have your own score to settle with S.H.I.E.L.D.” Loki stated, “That is your duty here.” without another word, he turned and left, leaving Rebecca to contemplate his words, seeing in his mind that they were true, and that he was not demanding she help him with the Hulk, but that he would not object should she elect to.

Rebecca watched from above as the Avengers entered the building, smiling that they were blissfully unaware of what they were about to endure, knowing that Fury would be nearby, wanting to make sure everything went to instruction, she concentrated on finding the S.H.I.E.L.D. commander as she kept tabs on them.

“There’s no one here,” Rogers stated, lowering his shield slightly.

“Loki tricked us.” Stark scoffed, “Tricked by the Trickster God, that’s original.” “Sir, if I may?” The female voice within his suit interjected. “Hit me, Friday.”

“There is a bogey on the perimeter.”

“We’re being watched,” Stark informed the others. “Where is he?” He asked the machine.

“That is the thing, sir, it is not Loki, it is a female.” “What sort of havoc is he after bringing?” Barton asked fearfully, Stark having made it so they could all hear Friday through their ear pieces.

“And it is definitely a bogey?” Stark double checked.

“It would appear so, sir. She is currently circling the build…” The computer silenced.

“Friday? Okay, we have trouble, I...Why is it gone dark?” “Dark?” Rogers stared at Stark. “Tony, everything is perfectly fine.” “Then why can I not see anything?” “She is toying with you.” The Avengers looked to Wanda, “I can sense her, she is doing…” Wanda collapsed to the ground and started crying like a baby.

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” Barton drew an arrow back. “Where is she?” He looked around frantically before aiming his arrow at his target. “Got you.” “Clint.” Romanov stared at her friend fearfully as he pointed the arrow directly at her.

“Barton, stop stalling and loose,” Rogers ordered.

“Steve, AH!” Romanov gasped as though she moved last moment, the arrow shot through her shoulder. “Damn it, you are supposed to be an assassin, kill her, Barton.” Rogers bellowed.

“What is going on?” Stark demanded.

“Mr Stark.” “Wait, who said that?” Tony looked around.

“You know, out of all of these fools, I am actually going to be somewhat disappointed when the time comes to kill you, I liked you, a little.”

“How are you talking inside my head?”

“Shut up Tony,” Rogers growled.

“I am just having some fun, now, quick question, where is Fury?” “Fury? Nick Fury?” “Obviously.” “In hiding.” “That’s a lie and we both know it. What is your greatest memory?” “My….what?” “Ah, there it is, building your first invention, a water purifier, at four, that is very impressive.” “Wait, how are you able to do this?” “Your little friend, the girl that tried to see in my head, there is a big difference between her and I, sort of like the difference between the soldier and Thor, Thor was born to his strength, Rogers was nothing but a pipe cleaner until your daddy and his friends decided to start America off on a fine start with its abuse of steroids.”

“So, Wanda is just a pale imitation of you, because she was made to be like that, and you are au naturale.” “Perhaps, I suppose we will never find out.” “And why is that, too scared to take her?” “No, I fear your friend Captain Rogers has already taken care of her enough, for today.”

With that Tony was given the ability to see again, but in truth, he wished the voice had left him as he was. “What…” Natasha was gasping for breathe, three arrows in her abdomen, one in her shoulder, Barton standing over her sneering, Rogers standing over Wanda, who had clearly been thrown across the room from her previous position, blood trickling out of her ear as the soldier reeled abuse at her, and he stood there, unable to move as the door at the end of the room opened and Loki walked in chuckling.

#loki #other #Submission #Submitted fic #wolfpawn #chapter 3 #house of cards in the wind #villain #S.H.I.E.L.D.#cryogenic storage #research #obsessed #revenge

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theoscarotto · 7 years

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Blood Is Thicker // Self Para

For weeks now, the fighting had ben constant and spreading throughout all of District Eleven, even what Poppy hoped would be the sanctity of the Victor’s Village not immune to becoming a field of battle. It was a tight living situation, her mother, her sisters, their husbands and children, as well as her own children, but never before had she been more grateful for having won the Games and having a place to harbor her family. Food was rationed and some beds were shared by more than two, but they were safe. Most folks knew Poppy, knew she was abstaining from the fight. For that reason, many had taken their own measures to ensure her home would go untouched if they had any say in it.

It seemed like things were drawing to a close. Constant gunfire and the occasional explosion signaled things weren’t quite yet over, but it was apparent to anyone with two eyes in their skull that the Peacekeepers were exhausted and outnumbered. Things were on the cusp of hostile in the Robinson home, most of the family sick of bumping elbows, Cypress particularly. He had been amongst the thousands as the riots began, but a bullet wound to his calf had been the end of that allowance. Poppy had kept a close eye on the boy since then, assigning others to do the same. He was lucky to have escaped with his leg and his life still intact.

Another night drew closer, the fighting seemingly worse during the hours when fear escalated with no light to abolish it. Everyone was settling in for the night while the woman cleaned dishes from the dinner she had served using the last bit of potatoes in the house. Her ears were alerted to a presence by the creaking of the wooden floor and the quietest uttering of a curse word. She turned, hands still soapy, to see her son mere feet from the door dressed in what she knew weren’t his pajamas. “Where do you think you’re going, huh?” she demanded of him. The young man averted her gaze and sighed heavily, clutching his back pocket every few seconds. “I just have to fight mom,” he whispered at last. “I have to do my part to help win this for us. To take back Eleven.” Poppy wiped her hands clean of the suds before walking to be face to face with her son. “You tried that, member? Ya got shot, Cypress. Could have been your chest or your head, but it wasn’t. Why take that risk again? You’re staying here, end of discussion.”

Cypress groaned, attempting to stare a hole through his mother. Again, his hand shifted from his front to the back of his pants. One time too many apparently, because this time caused Poppy to reach around him in haste. He attempted to pull away, but a quick slap to the face caused him to withdraw. Gasping as she realized what she grabbed from his back pocket, she pulled it out slowly and with absolute shock. A pistol was the mystery object, loaded and a black that matched the night outside. “Where the hell did you get this Cypress? You betta start talkin’ right now!” she screamed.

“They’re watching the house!” he screamed back. Placing his hands to his forehead, he groaned again. “My friends came by a few days ago. A group of Peacekeepers have been getting closer to the house every night. Anderson gave me this for protection. You think we’re safe, but we’re not!” He opened his palms, waiting for a response from her, but instead received one from the sound of glass shattering from the living room. Poppy and her son sprinted towards the sound, smashing the glass with their shoes as they did. An enormous rock sat where the coffee table used to sit. There was little time to focus on this as the unmistakable sound of numerous feet scuffled outside before a loud boom from the front door emitted through the house.

“Come out with your hands up!” demanded an unknown male voice. Slowly, Poppy and Cypress opened the door, quickly being shoved outside by no less than five Peacekeepers whose uniforms were shreds of their former selves. Soon, the had the entire house out on the lawn, more than two dozen hands raised into the air. “We ain’t had anythin’ to do with this,” Poppy stated to the man seemingly in charge. “That’s not what we’ve heard, you old bitch. Someone in this house is in possession of a weapon meant only for Capitol law enforcement.” Marigold’s husband had shifted forward in defense of Poppy’s honor, but she signaled for him to stay still. One of the men held up what looked to be an amateur sketch of four boys, holding it up to each person’s face despite most of the home being female. Cypress, at the end of the line next to Poppy was shaking in his boots despite no longer having the gun on him. The weapon was tucked into Poppy’s belt line where she thought it would be safe. “Up, boy,” muttered the peackeeper, shoving him forward and onto his knees in front of the family, deciding he looked enough like one of the sketches to be guilty. “We have entail that states the boy’s pictured disarmed a peacekeeper. Possession of an illegal firearms and assault of law enforcement is reason enough to be tried for treason. Which the punishment for now is death.” He took aim at the back of Cypress’ head, eliciting screams of panic from his onlooking family. All except Poppy, whose adrenaline soared as she remembered everything she could about the countless times she had seen trainers describe the elements of combat.

Pushing off the ground, she withdrew the gun from where it was hidden and took aim at the man ready to assassinate her son. When he glanced over at her, she panicked, the trigger sounding first, then the sound of a bullet hitting it’s fleshy target. The peacekeeper fell to the ground, dead instantly, while Cypress rolled back to his family, pulling a dagger from his shoe that Poppy hadn’t known about either. “Now I’ll be suggestin’ that the rest of y’all run off before I’m made to do the same to ya,” Poppy demanded, a tear resting on the cusp of her eyelid. “Take your dead, I don’t want him. GO.” The remaining four men picked up their dead fellow officer and scurried away with him, all the while Poppy trailing them with the barrel of the gun she had scolded her son for having in the first place. The gun that had ultimately saved the boy’s life, even if not in the way he had expected.

The woman ordered her family inside, Cypress insisting she needed to talk to someone, but she ignored his opinions. She stood outside her front door, the gun still between her trembling fingers. For a moment earlier, she thought she might cry for having taken a life. It was a silly thing for a victor to cry over, but no death had been directly her doing until now. But the grief lasted only a moment. In an instant, it was replaced by a sort of pride. A feeling like she had control of her life once more for having taken one away. Like a epiphany that seemed so clear, she knew she was the one responsible for her family’s safety, and doing them justice was her greatest responsibility. Even the puddle of blood left behind on the dead grass wasn’t enough to deter her. A predator had attacked her young. And a momma protects her young.

#self para #this got long

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