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#please come wreak havoc I’m so so so dreading works
sunshineler · 5 months
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I have cum to wreck havoc in your inbox /j -🌩
oh no whatever shall I do!
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kittyball23 · 2 years
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Facing Reality (a Hotel Transylvania fanfiction)
“Wha - ?”
It was obvious that Count Dracula was confused. She pictured his face now, furrowed brows staring up at the strange stone object that her great-grandfather held in his aged hands. Then, she heard as he became aware of just what it was.
“Oh, that’s just Ericka’s family heirloom!”
Van Helsing sputtered a laugh, and she stifled a snicker under her breath as well at the vampire’s stupidity. “Good one, Ericka!”
“It was pretty good, wasn’t it?” she agreed, coming up to stand next to him. She saw Dracula’s face turn from recognition to confusion. “Ericka?” he asked.
“You fool,” Van Helsing said. “Not only is she the ship’s captain. But she also happens to be - “ he laughed, interrupting himself and turning to her. “Wait, you tell him!”
"Don’t mind if I do, great-grandfather," she sneered, stepping up the shell's edge. “I’m his great-granddaughter…. I’m Ericka Van Helsing!”
Dracula’s face fell in dismay and shock. “Wh-what? But… but… we, I-I mean... us…”
Ericka scoffed dismissively. “Oh please, did you really think I’d ever love a monster? Your so-called ‘Zing’ means nothing to me!” She stepped closer to the edge of the DJ’s clam shell and took the object from Van Helsing’s hands, holding it out so everyone could see.
“Now, behold, the key to the destruction of ALL monsters! And your beloved 'Lord of Darkness' helped me retrieve it!”
She heard gasps and saw dozens of monster eyes zero in on Drac with looks of confusion and hurt. The vampire seemed to shrink on the spot.
Ericka paid no mind.
Reaching forward, she pulled out the yellowed scrap of paper tucked safely inside the gray stone and laid it so it stood upright on the electric keyboard. Van Helsing wheeled over, cracking his knuckles as he observed the musical notes on the sheet and then assessed the keys.
Everyone stood very still as he began to play a techno-sounding beat from the piano, Ericka turning the knob on the keyboard’s dial to add a backing beat. And then, out of the ocean behind them, the Kraken arose menacingly, hypnotized by the melodic sound, and with his large eyes glowing a strange orange. It gave a terrifying screech as he proceeded to attack all monsters on the dance floor, making quick work to eliminate the escape bridge and trapping everyone at its mercy.
Or rather, she and her great-grandfather’s mercy.
For the Kraken would never take it upon himself to cause this trouble under normal circumstances - he was also a monster after all - and it was the work of the instrument of destruction that aided in bringing the wretched titan under control.
Now, Ericka and Van Helsing witnessed with much glee at the fleeing beasts on the dance floor below, soaking in the screams and relishing in the sight of their panicked expressions.
“Listen to the melody of your destruction!” Van Helsing called out, just as the Kraken’s tentacles swiped out once more and wreaked havoc.
Just then, Ericka caught sight of a dark figure swooping up above the chaos and toward the sea monster. It was Dracula!
“Great-grandfather!” she called, in a tone not much unlike that of a tattle-taling child.
“No, you don’t!” Van Helsing growled, furiously continuing to play the melody as he made the Kraken envelope Dracula in a crushing grip.
“I say it’s time for the immortal Dracula to die!” Van Helsing declared.
“I couldn’t agree more,” Ericka concurred with a maniacal grin. The tentacle gripped more tightly, the Kraken wrapping the other seven arms in a cocoon-type hold. Dracula’s breath hitched, blue eyes wide with terror as he realized what exactly was happening as his lungs were squeezed tighter and tighter. He was suffocating and, slowly but surely, being killed.
Yes!
Her grandfather cackled in delight alongside her. “Just like we always planned, ey Ericka?” he shouted out.
But her focus wasn’t on him. It was on the Kraken’s tentacles, wrapping ever more tightly around the dreaded vampire that she loathed. She couldn’t see him trying to struggle anymore, and his hideous monstrous companions were of no help to him, trapped at the mighty destruction of the Kraken.
“Ericka?” Van Helsing called out again.
This is it! The vampire will die, and our legacy will live on! I am a true Van Helsing through and -
“ERICKA!”
She was suddenly snapped out of her thoughts, looking down as her great-grandfather nudged her in the ribs with his elbow. They were still at the bottom of the DJ booth. The mayhem with the Kraken hadn’t occurred yet.
“Get your head out of the clouds! We’re about to go on!” Van Helsing scolded, holding up the tentacle-shaped stone ‘heirloom’ with pride. “Now you recall what we are supposed to do now, right?”
Ericka nodded glumly. “Up the stairs. Kick out the DJ. Begin playing the melody of destruction.”
He nodded gleefully, oblivious to her downcast mood. “That’s my girl! A natural monster-killer!” He began rolling his wheels up the steps with much difficulty. “Now, hurry along!” he said. “I don’t want to wait a minute more to exact my revenge on those ghoulish fiends!”
She followed him up with a heavy sigh, the DJ distracted by the loud rave of the music that he was playing. This was the moment she’d been waiting for, the time when everything she’d worked for her whole life would pay off. And yet, it didn’t feel as fulfilling or exciting as she had once hoped. It was obvious to her now that she wasn’t going to be the person she had just envisioned - the vengeance-driven monster hunter that her great-grandfather wanted her to be. Her heart simply wasn't into it anymore… not after everything that had happened between her and the Count. But, she also knew that her alliance didn’t fully lie with the monsters - or even Dracula - quite yet.
Ericka didn’t know just how the night’s events would turn out, but somehow, in some way, she hoped it would all work out for the better.
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do you think that L MC, A MC AND M MC would say to their other parent about wanting to stay with their dads? and what would the dads think???? Love your work
Ooooo I’ve actually been meaning to do something for this! Also thank youuuuuuuu!!!!!
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So all three kiddos are technically living with their dads, it’s generally... safer for them than living in the human world where they could accidentally wreak havoc. But the three do visit their other parents a whole bunch! It’s only fair for the people who had to go through raising a demon baby all on their own.
L!MC’s parent, I like to think they’re just SICKENINGLY sweet. Literally the perfect friend and neighbour, they bring over cookies, make you feel good about yourself, etc. Etc.
They don’t have any super strong magic or anything but they are aware of the Devildom, the Celestial Realm and all the shennaniganery. Though... L!MC’s dear ren is very, how do I put this..? Mind numbingly terrifying when they want to be?
Their glare could make even the most powerful demons shiver in fear...
To answer the question for L!MC’s ren, they’d be very happy to let their baby stay in the Devildom after being assured that L!MC is absolutely positive that’s what they want, and as long at they got regular visits and phone calls.
Lucifer probably had on his smug douche (tm) smile when L!MC said they wanted to stay in the Devildom with him, but in his head he was going “oh thank fuck my kid actually likes me...”
It’s a good thing Lucifer and L!MC’s ren actually have a very good co-parenting relationship.
“So, how is your cursed music collection coming along?”
“Quite well actually, I’ve added a few more actually cursed pieces in recent years.”
“Wait, ren, you know about the cursed music?”
“We met when I was playing a cursed piece on stage, your father assured me I would die in a terrible accident in the next fifteen minutes if the music was actually cursed.”
“As you can see, the music was not cursed because we’re having this conversation long after the fifteen minutes passed.”
“Wow... how romantic.”
M!MC’s ren! Okay, I think that Mammon got summoned into the human world randomly by someone he owed money too, and Lucifer just... forgot to let Mammon back into the Devildom. Luci probably had a killer hangover and didn’t notice Mammon was gone for like, a week.
So in the week Mammon had free reign of the human world, he got his flirt on and probably definitely stole a few things from M!MC’s parent before bidding his goodbye. So uh... M!MC’s ren does NOT think very positively of Mammon.
They love M!MC with all their heart and soul though, no bad parenting in MY self indulgent headcanon series. All the bad parenting is saved for Himiko’s parents.
M!MC’s parent probably got the hint that their kid was a tad... different when their head started spinning around like Reagan from the Exorcist.
Is there a support group for single parents with demon children?
So when M!MC says that they want to stay in the Devildom, their ren is very hesitant to give their permission and also very mad that Diavolo and Lucifer picked their preteen kid for an exchange program without consulting them first! M!MC had to swear up and down that this was a good thing and that everything would be fine, it still took a while, but eventually M!MC was given permission to stay in the Devildom.
It’d be no secret that Mammon would have been DREADING the end of the year when his kid would have to leave... he really loves that little brat okay?! So when M!MC said they wanted to stay, Mammon was practically over the moon, he was totally willing to play servant to M!MC’s other ren to help convince them to let their kid stay with him.
“I’ll do anything! Literally anything in the whole damn world!”
“Give me back my Rolex.”
“I can do literally anything but give you back your stuff!”
“Dad...”
M!MC visits and calls their ren as much as they can, because they’re a good kid god dammit! They love their ren!
A!MC! A!MC! A!MC’s ren! I’m torn between having them be a loud extrovert and having them being a nervous wreck, but either way...
I don’t think they’d know about the Devildom beforehand, so when a half demon baby is suddenly eating every cookie in the house just because they asked for them, A!MC’s ren was worried their kid was either a very charismatic manipulative two year old OR demonspawn...
It’s a blessing and a miracle that A!MC grew up with their powers of persuasion and didn’t end up as a cult leader or something by the time they were ten...
A!MC’s ren was probably ecstatic to find out that A!MC had met their dad and there was an explanation for all the weirdness. They were probably hesitant to give their permission for their kid to stay full time, but after seeing how much A!MC had grown they couldn’t say no...
A!MC goes up to the human world almost every single weekend and holiday to give their ren souvenirs and tell them about all the cool stuff they did that week.
Asmo gave A!MC a hug that could rival Beel’s in terms of bone crushing strength when A!MC told him they wanted to stay. He also probably visits A!MC’s ren with them, just to hang out.
“Hey babe, how’ve you been~?” *seductive eyebrow wiggle*
“Dad please-”
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chaoticallysapphic · 4 years
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Oh my heart
Summary: Lin never expected to have a soulmate, in a world where your mark appears whenever your soulmate is born she grew up completely blank. So when she’s thirty and it finally etches itself around her arm, she vows to never be with the one meant only for her. 
A/N: there is an age gap so if that's not your thing, then please don’t read. This will be a two, maybe three parter and the reader is Korra’s older sister who is also a waterbender, besides that I’ve tried to keep any physical descriptions of her as vague as possible.
Word count: 4k
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Lin was terrified. Something she had longed for her entire life had finally appeared but at the worst possible time, those strange words etched onto her forearm stared back at her in a taunting manner, making fun of her new attempt at happiness. You wished for me all your life, aren’t you pleased? The voice in the back of her head taunted, but she wasn’t. A moment meant to be filled with joy was one drenched in dread. Lin had finally accepted her feelings for Tenzin, despite him having had his soulmate mark since he was sixteen. Her glances grew longer, her smile seemed reserved only for him, and she finally felt happy, until now of course. Thirty, that’s how old Lin was, which meant she was thirty years older than her soulmate which seemed wrong, disgusting even, so Lin did what she thought best, she burnt it off. She blamed it on a work-related incident when asked, a pesky firebending criminal got a little to close and she paid the price. No one knew she did it to herself in the darkness of her apartment with tears on her face, a hint of regret gnawing at her heart.
Two months later, Tenzin asked Lin out on a date and despite that nagging feeling that this was so wrong, she accepted. After a few months Tenzin made her forget about the burnt skin on her forearm, the shameful secret she’d take to the grave. She felt happy, so happy, she felt loved and accepted, like maybe she had a shot at a happily ever after despite his mark and her own. Lin knew he’d choose her, knew he loved her, and had nothing to worry about, so she laid her head on his chest as they basked in the sun on Air Temple Island.
                                                            -----
“You can’t force me into wanting kids!” Lin shouted, her hands waving around as she glared at Tenzin, his usual calm demeanor seemed to crack, his voice rising as he shouted back “I’m the last air bender there is! I have to keep the line going, I have to repopulate my kind!”
“I would be a terrible mother, I hate kids and I’d have to leave my job for at least nine months, I just made Chief!” Tenzin pinched the bridge of his nose, his pale complexion turning red with frustration, he loved how dedicated she was to her job, but it seemed to be all she cared about since getting promoted.
“I think we need a break from each other, maybe a week or t-”. Her eyes widened in horror at his words, her hand's grip at her hair in frustration as she cuts him off “fine, but I am coming back in a week and we are working this out for good, I’m tired of this argument.” Without letting him say another word, she stormed out and made her way back to republic city.
As the week dragged on, Lin put her colleagues through hell. Slamming doors so hard the glass on them shattered, an even shorter fuse than normal, she even fired two of her best detectives for trying to ask her what was wrong. Her apartment seemed cold, her nights seemed never-ending and an undeniable sense of dread clawed its way into her heart like she knew he was slipping away. Maybe she could have one kid, to make him happy and keep the air benders going. If it was an earth bender then fine, she’d have another, but she wouldn’t quit her job, wouldn’t loosen up on the hours and Tenzin would understand, right? He’d just be so happy to be a father that he wouldn’t care, he’d always respected her work before, what was to stop him after a kid or two?
She caved, she decided to go back to air temple island on the fifth day, a sense of determination to fix their relationship fueled each step and she tried to dismiss any fear she had of becoming a mother as she made her way up the steps to where she’d known Tenzin would be. In her state, she didn’t notice the pitying looks the acolytes sent her way, all she cared about was finding him. When she found him in the courtyard, she thought nothing of the young woman speaking to Tenzin with a wide grin but when she put her hand on his shoulder mid-laugh, Lin paused. Tenzin noticed her then, a million emotions flashed through his eyes before his shoulders sagged and a sorrowful expression settled on his face, and somehow, she knew.
Who could blame her when she wreaked havoc on a place she once called her sanctuary, when she wished misery on him before leaving her destruction behind, her fists clenched tight as the best thing she ever had slipped through her fingers.
                                                           -----
“Korra!” a feminine voice shouted from behind Tenzin, you pushed past him and ran forward to hug the avatar in the interrogation room, murmuring something to her in a furious tone. Lin rolled her eyes as she looked over at Tenzin who said smoothly “Lin, you are looking radiant as usual.”
“Cut the garbage Tenzin” she replied in an annoyed tone “why is the avatar in republic city? I thought you were supposed to be moving down to the south pole to train her.” you, who came in with Tenzin let go of Korra and walked over to stand by him, your arms crossed over your chest.
“It was too cold for his bald head” you answered right as Tenzin opened his mouth to speak “now why is my sister in so much trou-”. Lin tuned the rest of her words out as shock slammed into her like a rock wall. No. This wasn’t meant to happen, she’d scorched off any chance with her soulmate twenty years ago, or so she thought. But this… this twenty? Yes, a twenty-year-old water tribe girl with brows furrowed, and an expectant look on her face was it. You were what sometimes kept her up at night when she was so lonely it felt like the feeling would surely eat her up as Lin imagined some faceless figure who loved Lin with all their heart, someone who would never leave her.
“Lin?” Tenzin asked, putting his hand on her shoulder which successfully pulled her out of the raging ocean that was her thoughts, no not ocean, definitely nothing water-related. Lin looked into Tenzin's eyes, completely ignoring her one chance at happiness.
“Just get her out of my sight and keep her out of trouble” she practically growled out before storming off. Her heart was racing so fast she’d thought it’d surely give up any second now, maybe she should have known that her hasty decisions from her past would one day come back to sucker punch her in the gut.
“Well that was weird” Lin heard you say behind her as she continued to rush away from you before she accidentally said something. Lin vowed then that she would never say a single word to you. It was better this way anyway, who would want her? Bitter, old, scarred Lin who was practically married to her job and hated all things romantic ever since Tenzin crushed her heart beneath his shoe.
                                                           -----
She learned that your name was y/n a few days later, she heard Korra call out to you at the gala and when Lin followed Korra’s excited figure and her eyes landed on her soulmate, the wind was successfully knocked out of her for the second time since meeting y/n. You were wearing a deep blue satin dress that went down to the floor with a blue sheer shoulder shawl that had silver snowflakes embroidered onto it. Your hair was down instead of up, and you had a small amount of makeup on, just a bit of rouge and red lipstick. Lin thought it was the perfect amount, any more and it might distract someone from your beautiful eyes, or your enchanting smile. Her heart began to pound despite her desperate attempt at keeping her emotions in check. A large part of her hated this, hated you, and what this feeling blooming in her chest meant.
When Bolin came up to you and threw an arm over your shoulder, which caused you to laugh, Lin remembered that it would never happen. She shoved her feelings down and turned away from you as her thoughts went from how beautiful you were to how you would never love her.
Later on in the evening, Tarlock calls Lin over and she sees you peek around Korra to eye her curiously, a look of intrigue settles on your features as Lin pushes down any feelings she has at the fact that you’re looking at her and it feels like her whole body is on fire under your stare. “I believe you and avatar Korra have already met” Tarlock looks over at her with that sly look of his that she’s already determined means he’s up to no good.
“Just because the city is throwing you this big to do, don’t think you’re something special. You’ve done absolutely nothing to deserve this” she says to Korra, leaning down a bit to glare at the young avatar. Your curious gaze turns to one of annoyance as you glare at Lin. “Hey! Who gave you the right to be mean to my little sister,” you step in front of Korra almost protectively, as you stare her down. Don’t speak to her, look away, don’t reply, she tells herself. Lin turns on her feet and walks off, trying to seem as if she doesn’t care about what you said. “Why does she always ignore me?” she hears you say in an exasperated tone before she loses your voice over the loud music playing nearby.
                                                           -----
When Tenzin stands next to Lin at the pro-bending arena with you by his side, she’s not surprised. It seems the universe has decided to continuously throw you in her face, dangling you teasingly despite knowing her decision regarding your bond. You're holding a bag of fire flakes as you eagerly watch your sisters match, but soon your once excited expression turns to annoyance once the game starts. The Wolf Bats tipped the referee off. Lin wants to go beat the referee up until he starts being fair, just to see you smile once more.
“C’mon! This is bullshit” you shout as the Wolf Bats gain another point. Lin can’t help but notice the way your nose scrunches up as you continue to shout at the referee or how your hair which originally was pushed behind your ears has come loose and is framing your face so beautifully. Her left hand unconsciously grazes over her armor where her burn mark is as she watches you, completely tuning the game out. As Tenzin goes to shout something alongside you, his eyes catch Lin staring at you with a look of longing, he takes a step closer to Lin causing her to tear her eyes away from you and back to the match.
“Lin....” Tenzin begins but she clears her throat and mutters out a sharp “drop it.” To which Tenzin does, for now. Later on, as the match intensifies, Lin says “I can’t believe your sweet-tempered father was reincarnated into that girl, she’s tough as nails.” Lin doesn’t see it, but you smile at her words before deciding to tune out the rest of the conversation between the two, too focused on your sister to care.
You're practically seething at the outcome of this botched game, fire flakes are flying out of the bag as you shout in anger, not noticing the figure approaching with sinister intentions. By the time you do, it's because you're in excruciating pain as something electrifies you, your vision blurs and you make out Lin dropping onto the floor. The figure who electrocuted you steps over your body, you reach out to the Airbender, trying to warn him but nothing comes out of your mouth as he falls to the floor beside you. Soon your eyes droop closed due to the pain despite trying your hardest to stay awake.
When Lin awakens her muscles feel like they're about to give out and she lets out a weak groan as she slowly goes to stand up. Her eyes land on you the second her vision is no longer a blur and her heart fills with panic as she sees an equalist take you into their arms. She stumbles forward, not fully awake, and catches the attention of your capture. You let out a pained groan, in your unconscious state, the sound tugs at her heart and she’s suddenly filled with boiling rage. The equalist is shaking as he continues to stumble backward, another appears to help him take you away and without a second thought Lin shoots out her wires and wraps them around both of their ankles, she gives them a harsh yank which causes them to fall to the ground with a loud thud, for good measure she cuffs them to the floor, warping the metal of the floor beneath them around their wrists and ankles. You land on top of your capture, your eyes begin to flutter behind your lids and you finally stir awake. Pain wraps around your muscles, in your head you think maybe it's best to just lay still, momentarily forgetting about your situation.
You let out a whimper, knocking Lin out of her frozen state as she had gazed at you. Lin rushes forward and wraps an arm around your waist as she pulls you up onto your feet, you open your eyes, blinking the blurriness out of your eyesight. Lin takes you over to the railing as Tenzin also begins to regain consciousness and she props you up against the metal railing. You stare up at her in confusion, your mind is buzzing a mile a minute, not only at the situation at hand but at how her arms felt wrapped around you. “Uhm… Thanks for that.”
“Amon probably ordered them to kidnap you to hurt Korra” she replies, not realizing what she’s just done. Your eyes widen in shock at her words but before she can even notice your shocked state an explosion sets off behind you, sheets of metal from the bending platform go flying and she wraps her arms around you, forcing you to duck down so she can shield you with her body. You pull up a wave of water to protect you from oncoming flames. The heat of the steam from the water causes you both to begin sweating before the flames from the explosion recede only seconds later. You let go of the water, suddenly the discovery of Lin’s secret doesn’t seem so important as you think of your sister. When you passed out she was in the water below, surely she’s somewhere safe, right?
As if to answer your question, Korra appears as she hurtles herself up into the air with a large twisting waterspout. As it begins to falter and then completely goes out you let out a shout filled with terror “Korra!” Lin quickly gets up and shoots her metal wire out towards the roof to send her flying across the arena towards the avatar, before Korra can hit the fiery platform below, she shoots out a second wire to her waist and with all her might yanks her up into the air.
You stand beside Tenzin with wide eyes and bated breath, suddenly the two most important women in your life, I mean Lin has been ignoring you and you’ll have to figure out why later but she is your soulmate which does make her incredibly important to you, are out of your sight and dangerously fighting above as you uselessly stand there with your water bending abilities that won’t get you up there to help fight off equalists. Not being able to just stand by you summon water from below and create an ice bridge to the platform, if you can’t fight, you can try to put out the raging fire caused by the explosion.
“Y/n, wait!” Tenzin calls after but you're long gone. If you just stand there you’ll go insane and you have powers that can help, even if you don't get to kick some equalist ass.  Up above Lin finally lands on the glass dome and immediately sets out to take down as many people as she can at once, Korra watches in amazement for a moment as she wraps her wire at some guys foot and slams him into the roof before she gets knocked off the rope and lands onto the dome with a loud thud and the crackling of the glass starting to break below her.
It’s a collision of fire and electricity with metal wires flying towards the men and from below where you are using all your strength to put out the fire, it looks almost beautiful with the sparks of blue and flashes of red if not for the current circumstances. Tenzin has taken to help you with the fire by trying to use air to snuff it out. Suddenly glass from above sprinkles around them and you look up to see your little sister free falling once more.
“Tenzin can you do something with your air?!” You shout and he goes to try and send a force of air to help slow her down but she's going too fast, she’s flailing and if she doesn’t do something soon she’ll most likely die from the impact. As you run to the edge of the platform to try and save her yourself, Lin appears from above Korra and shoots a small wire to her so she can hold onto it like a rope.
Your shoulders sag in relief as you stumble away from the edge and use everything you’ve got to summon a massive wave to once and for all put out the fire. It works and the force of the water has it crashing into the stands taking with it some of the seats and any trash left behind in the frenzy. When you see Lin and Korra land  you race off towards the now soaking wet stands, using the water below as a set of frozen stairs to reach them. When you do, Lin has her hand on Korra’s shoulder and is saying something but you don’t make it out before you crush them both in a hug. Some sort of strangled sound of relief bubbles up through your throat as your hold on them tightens.
Korra wraps her arms around you, softly saying “thank the spirits you're okay” as Lin stays perfectly still. As her adrenaline slowly leaves her body and she realizes you aren’t in danger, she suddenly can’t be touched by you. She remains frozen until you pull away, you know it's not the time to bombard her so instead you offer Lin a thankful smile, too worried about how she’d react if you did anything else.
                                                           -----
A few days later you finally let Korra out of your sight, letting her run off to deal with her boy problems as you head towards the main police station. You tried to casually ask Tenzin what kind of tea Lin liked best, to which he’d furrowed his brows and said “why?” You simply shrugged and repeated your question. Apparently, it was jasmine, which was a favorite of yours as well so you stopped by your favorite tea shop and grabbed two to-go cups. As you enter the station you square your shoulders and give yourself a little pep talk “You can do this, you just need to march in and figure out why, maybe butter her up with the tea first of course, and then ask why, that’s if she lets you into the office…” you trail off once your eyes land on the door of Lin’s office, the words “Chief Beifong” are written in gold on the glass door which has a blind pulled down so you can’t see inside, which your slightly grateful for.
“Chief Beifong doesn’t want anyone to disturb her” one of the cops called out, but you ignore him and open the door, who cares, you deserve answers.
“I said I wanted to be alone, how brain dead are yo-” her words cut off as you walk in, balancing two cups in one hand so you can shut the door. You swallow, suddenly being in front of her has made most of your bravado slip away, along with your original plan, leaving you speechless. She doesn’t say anything, seeming to forget that she already spoke to you in the arena. You set the cups down and lift your shirt, which causes Lin to blush but you don’t stop until she can see her own words.
“I used to hate them… y’know,” you say quietly before dropping your shirt back down, Lin glares at her desk. “I used to be jealous of Korra and all the attention she got, so imagine growing up with her name etched onto your skin.”
She goes to open her mouth to speak, most likely to spew out some lie so you beat her to it. “I don’t know why, exactly, you kept it to yourself, I asked Tenzin the other day and he said you didn’t have a mark which is odd seeing as you are my soulmate." You pause, your voice softening, "you could have just told me straight away that you didn’t want me, didn’t want this instead of ignoring my existence and leaving me to wonder what I'd done to offend you.” Finally, she looks up from the desk and you make eye contact with her. You're trying so hard not to cry as you try to figure out what's going through her head, will she kick you out? Is your soulmate going to reject you?
“I thought…” Lin begins, she looks away from you, not being able to look you in the eyes anymore. “I thought I was doing you a favor, I’m old, and I’m not the most personable or charismatic person, I thought maybe you’d want someone your own age, maybe someone like your sisters' teammates.”
“So someone who is young and a guy? Did you think that maybe you should let me decide what I wanted instead of just assuming?”
“Look I gave up on the idea of having a soulmate years ago!” Lin shouts and you flinch away in surprise, “thirty years is a long time, do you know how I felt when those words suddenly appeared on me at thirty?”
“Oh, so you do have a mark!” You let out a disbelieving, angry laugh. “So you just went around telling everyone you didn’t have one, pretending the idea of me, of us, didn’t exist.” Tears cloud your vision and you let out a frustrated groan as you quickly gaze up at the ceiling in an attempt to keep them from falling. Lin’s gaze softens and she slowly stands from her desk.
“Y/n… I thought about it every day, but… We can’t be together, I’m far too old and I’ll just hold you back.” You scoff and aggressively wipe at the tears falling down your cheeks, your heart feels like it's beginning to crack.
“Your mark?” You croak out and cringe at how you sound. Lin hesitated before using her bending to take off the armor on her right arm. On her arm is a massive burn scar, you keep staring at it, not knowing what to say. Did someone else do that to her? As if she can read your thoughts, Lin says softly “I did it to myself a few days after it appeared.”
Oh. So this is what it's like to have your heart cleaved into two, what you felt just minutes before seems like nothing compared to the pain wrapping so tightly around you that it seems hard to breathe. She hated the idea of you so much she'd rather hurt herself and lie to everyone in her life. Without another word you turn your back on your soulmate, despite the sound of calling out to you, just like she did to you twenty years ago.
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Text
Fluffy Undertaker Headcanons
Request: Can I get some fluffy undertaker head cannons to make my day :) please have a good day and stay safe
Title: Fluffy Undertaker Headcanons
Genre: prepare thyself for an overabundance of FLOOF
Pairing: Undertaker x Reader
Notes: This request just hit me and I- ooh, I’m gushing at the thought of writing this. Some odd comfort fluff for the properly named Undertaker was just perfect to slide around. (Also, super sorry for this being a little late - my job’s got me busy!) 
That being said, thanks for the wishes! I hope all of you are healthy and safe in this time, and that if you aren’t that you are going about it properly. 
Below the cut! 
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Part 1: Friends
you have to have a weird sense of humor combined with dread to become this guys friend
or even develop something generally close to friendship
either way, when it happens, it (metaphorically) smacks you in the face. 
seriously, you’ve probably gotten hit by something flying in that shop if someone were to pass by
(we don’t know if something is laying on the coffins when he pops out of one, so watch your back.)
but to cover the overall basics? 
yeah, undertaker will be a hoot and a half
expect there to be an influx of jokes (from your end or his, it doesn’t matter)
they will most likely revolve around vulgar topics or death, maybe a combination of both (though that might come from him on the rare occasion).
otherwise, there will be a lot of helping at the shop. 
which is when you will catch the jokes.
and possibly an ornament of some kind. 
you never know :)
on bad days, though, when you can’t crack a joke with him or you don’t feel like you could help out
he’d try to help you.
you trudged through the pit it took to become friends with him, so of course he’d try to help you.
and by being friends with him, like written above, you would most likely have a darker sense of humor.
seeing as that is also the way he seems to deal with things, yeah, he’d crack a few dark jokes.
if that worked? great, now let’s terrorize the queen’s watchdog and his butler together! 
if not? well, that’s when things would get awkward. 
he’d crack even more jokes and, honestly, it would work at that point.
seriously, this guy takes pleasure in humor. 
(my god, i sound like a broken record holy shit-)
you two also take an immense amount of pride when it comes to annoying phantomhive
tag team taunting? hell yeah! 
sometimes your jokes get sebastian laughing, which only makes ciel even more annoyed. 
it’s great, walking a thin line between life and death with him.
on certain days, you two would go out on the town. 
at night, of course, but just finding an underground pub somewhere is perfect for the two of you.
after a drink or two (of whatever you two chose, or course), you’d probably go back to his shop and lay low. 
play some card games on coffins or make up some stupid alternative game until midnight.
just some really fun times. 
depending on your status, too - or even your workplace in general - he’d help you with what you needed.
Part 2: Relationship 
(spoiler alert for non-manga readers, even if this point was decently far back at this point- nEWAY)
so, at this point, trust has been developed to a level that is enviable on all levels
you two have shared multiple secrets between each other that you wouldn’t tell anyone else. 
yours was one that could destroy any trace of a reputation that you held if it were to get out 
his was his elaborate plan that would come into play on the atlantic
yeah, you were also a person that had a part in that, though that was mostly done for experimental purposes.
undertaker had decided to let you in on his experiments after you two had started the courting process 
and through the awkwardness of it all, you became accustomed to his antics. 
so when the time came, you two would just do what slightly deranged people would do when the experiments worked:
make dark jokes and slow dance around the plethora of undead people walking around and gnawing on people from a farther distance while hoping that you two wouldn’t get caught by the demon butler
yeah, fun times. 
you can include the moment when you hid and undertaker went head to head with the reapers and demon. 
(you heard all of that and were worried senseless, but you had faith in him.)
either way, when this is all done and over and you inevitably gtfo of there, you two resort to cuddling at your abode
at this point, the two of you are hitting a point where you both say ‘screw it, they can’t see us’ and just - cuddle. 
he’d be big spoon, you’d be on his chest, or you and him would be tangled together chest-to-chest
(you have cuddled in a coffin ffs, how else would two people fit in a regular-sized one?) 
those would be times when there would be an odd combination of dark humor and praises to the other.
one minute, you may be playing with his hair and making small braids in it, uttering how it is so soft and smooth 
the next, you’d be pulling on it (the braid) just the slightest because undertaker made a death joke and you got a whiff of his breath
you both avoid typical mannerisms of the times, and take pride in it :)
the most you two would do, most likely, would be cuddling, joking, and short kisses on the cheek or forehead (sometimes on the crown of your head)
in short? you better be able to handle this death-obsessed, experimental weirdo that can’t stop himself from cracking a joke and wreaking havoc at every corner.
you also better be prepared to fight anyone that may target you because of his doings. 
(it’s honestly kind of funny to see how this develops lol)
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jacks-jester · 4 years
Text
Napier
 [Ledger!Joker x Reader]
Words: 3,123
Warnings: None?
Requested: Yes / No
Summary: You’re given the opportunity to reunite with your childhood sweetheart Jack, who now goes by the Joker. Is he the same mischievous boy you left behind, or is he the sadistic mass murderer the media portrays him as.
A/N~ This is sort of a sequel to my fic Longing? I will try getting to all my amazing requests soon, however I can’t promise anything. I’ve had some health complications due to my mental health and am trying to become healthy again. I’m getting back to where I need to be but some outside occurrence's are hindering that. I apologize to anyone I may have let down.
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Your life had been fairly mellow since the last time you’d seen Jack on the television, though the shock was still just as present. Jack was the person you had always considered to be the love of your life, he was always sweet and thoughtful when you two were together. He never raised his voice, never raised a hand, and never made you feel unloved. The person you had seen on that television was not the same person you had left in Gotham, Jack seemed somewhat deranged now, wreaking havoc on the entire city. Part of you understood his grievance, his actions mostly costing those in wealthy position, it was clear what he wanted - tear down the corrupt city and take down those in power. He risked innocent lives in the process however, and that was enough to scare you of the man you had once loved with your whole heart. You doubted he cared, doubted he even knew you were here in Gotham, why would he? You left him years ago- but that made you ask yourself, what if you got caught in one his schemes? What if you were in one of the ferries last week when he decided to have his own social experiment play out just to prove his point.
You were conflicted and confused to say the absolute least after you caught the last glimpse of the man you loved so much. From the brief snippets of gossip you’d overheard at work, he was now back in Arkham Asylum- though your coworkers argued that he most likely would be broken out before the week is out. Hearing about where he was had sparked something in you, the need to see Jack. You had hoped you’d bump into him after moving back, but seeing as he was the most wanted criminal in Gotham, it seemed beyond unlikely. With him being locked up, you had the chance to possibly see him again, get the urge out of your system before it consumed you entirely. You were unsure whether or not Arkham would let you see him, but you knew internally how upset you’d be if you didn’t at least try.
You had finished your typical 9 hour shift at The Gotham Zoo, working as the head of the exotic mammals department- the last being killed in an apparent incident with Killer Croc. You let out a shaky sigh as you took in the large gates standing in front of you, the words Arkham Asylum written atop in meticulous metalwork. Your head swiveled to the side when a buzzing sounded through the air, a voice emitting from a small intercom to the left of the large doors. “What can I help you with ma’am?” You turned to face the small camera and speaker, a soft yet nervous smile appearing across your lips as you responded, “I’m here to visit a patient. Are visiting hours still open?” You knew for certain hours of the day the asylum was on lower security, allowing visitors to certain inmates though deep down you knew the chances of seeing Jack were slim considering how high-class of a criminal he was.
“One hour left before visiting ours are over. I’ll open the gate now, enter to the first building on your left and they’ll sort out your visitation at the desk. If you have any weapons or contraband on your person, security will take the force needed to remove you from the premises, am I clear?”
Your eyes widened at the idea of sneaking in anything dangerous and you nodded in respond, “Yes sir. Thank you.” You turned away from the camera, instead focusing on the large metal gates that were now opening before you, giving you a clear view of the entire asylum. You walked nervously through the gates, several armed guards lining the courtyard as you headed towards the visitation desk. Once in the building you relaxed slightly, the security having frisked and questioned you at the door, all that was left was to attempt to get a visitation in for Jack. A kind looking elderly woman sat behind the bulky and outdated white computer that sat upon her desk, her acrylics tapping quickly upon the keys of her keyboard. It wasn’t until you cleared your throat to gain her attention that she finally looked up to you, readjusting her glasses before speaking up. 
“Good afternoon, what can I do for you?”
You smiled softly at her before forcing you words out, “I was hoping to visit an inmate today if possible? I’m not sure how your visitations work here so I’m kind of unprepared.”
She looked at you as if this was a regular occurrence for her, simply nodding with a smile, “Of course, is your inmate new? Seems like we get more and more everyday.”
“Um, no. From my understanding he’s been in here quite a few times, at least that's what I’ve heard.” 
“Alright dearie, and what’s the patients name?”
You in all honesty weren’t sure what name he was under in their systems, so you went with the one you’d been hearing the most recently. “The Joker?”
The woman stopped everything she was doing and looked at you with a perplexed expression. “The Joker?” She took a moment to recollect herself before shaking her head, “We can’t let anyone in unless they are someone personal to the Joker, family only I’m afraid. He’s too high risk to let anyone but family see him.” You looked at her with confusion for a moment before replying with an unwavering voice, “I’m his fiancé, please.” She looked you up and down for a second before flicking her eyes to her computer screen. She knew nobody but someone truly close to the Joker would know his name, even his closest henchman didn’t know his name from what the GCPD had said. The hospital however, had his blood work and files from his youth at Gotham general, his name was in their files. “What’s the patients name?” 
You looked at her with a soft smile and replied quickly and short, “Jack. Jack Napier. Please, I just recently moved back here and just learned of this whole Joker business. I need to see him.” She let out a sigh and nodded, “You pass the routine check for relatives and associates, I have to give you a warning though. You’ll have to sign this contract, it means no matter what happens between you and the patient during visitation, Arkham Asylum is not responsible for what happens. This includes bodily harm, serious injuries, trauma, and death.” You only nodded and signed the form, “Can I see him now?”
Your heart was racing at the thought of seeing him again, though you couldn’t deny the dread that bubbled up inside of you at the prospect of coming face to face with someone unrecognizable. You wanted to maintain your positive image of Jack, the image of that charming school boy who never failed to sweep you off your feet, the boy who got into fights when he saw someone even look at you off, who never failed to make you fall deeper into love with him every time his lips met yours. The daunting reality that the boy you had fallen in love with all those years ago could be a thing of the past, a new darkness enveloping the person you cherished so deeply.
After the woman had made a phone call notifying guards of the visitation, you were escorted by two security men to one of the higher levels in the institution. The higher you rose, the more loud and prominent the screams of patients became- it was as though you were ascending into the madness itself as the elevator rose higher and higher. You ended up getting off at level 5 of the large building, the security taking you to a large metal door with a closed peep slot. The larger of the two guards turns to you while the other works on unlocked the door, “You have 30 minutes before we come in to get you. The door will remain locked for the entirety of those thirty minutes. Do you understand?” You nodded shakily in response before turning to enter the room as the door was swung open, creaking eerily as it shut behind you.
You remained silent as you took in the sight in front of you, it was him, no doubt about it. His head was bowed, looking down at his cuffed hands, completely ignoring your presence in the room. He was exactly the same as when you had left, well almost with a few exceptions. His hair was wavy and shoulder length, freshly washed, and the almond brown color you remembered so distinctly, though a few blotchy patches of green remained- long nights spent in each others arms as your fingers combed through that exact head of hair. You couldn’t see his eyes due to his gaze facing downwards but you could only guess they were the same honey color as before, green specks littering the dark brown ring on the outside of his iris, though you had to wonder if they held the same kindness, love, and mischief as before. He occupied one of the two chairs inside the room, a table dividing the two seats, and his body was in the typical white uniform you had seen the other patients wearing around the hospital.
You were taken out of your own mind when you heard a breathy laugh escape the man sitting before you, his head still bowed. “I have to give it to you, a lot of people have tried to get past security to see me and so far you’re the only one to have done it without shooting a few people along the way. So what do you want? Money? Power? Everything comes with a price, nothing comes for free.” You made your way slowly towards him, pulling out the chair and taking a seat opposite of his larger figure. “I was just hoping to see you.” You could hear the almost silent intake of breath he made before raising his head, those all too familiar brown eyes meeting you e/c ones. He silently stared at you, and as much as you hated to admit it, for the first time ever you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “Long time no see Jack.”
You watched as his eyes darkened ever so slightly, his lips twisting into a deep-set frown as he took in your words. “What are you doing here?” His words surprised you, they were laced with what seemed to frustration and disbelief. You weren’t expecting a warm reception after learning of his new career, but you expected him to at least show some sliver of recognition. “I’m sorry?” His voice growled out his words again, his words a low tone as if biting back anger. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you. I missed you Jack. I heard you were in Arkham while at work and figured I was most likely to see you if I came in for visitation, it didn’t seem likely for me to just bump into you like I’d hoped I would.” Joker looked you up and down and clicked his tongue in annoyance, “You shouldn’t have come bac to Gotham doll, it’s not safe anymore. I told you not to come back after you moved away.” You rolled your eyes at his words, he was talking to you like you were a child. “Yeah, well you also said you would get out of here soon after me. Looks that means we both didn’t hold up to each others expectations.” Your gaze flicked from looking at him to your hands which were fiddling nervously in your lap. “What are you doing Jack?” 
The man sitting before you let out one of his signature cackles at your question, “What do you mean?” You let out a sigh, your eyebrows knitting together in frustration. “You’re killing people, destroying the city, wreaking havoc. What is it all for? What do you gain?” Jack shrugged his shoulder lightly, his gaze meeting yours silently. “Because it’s not boring, and those I despise are being taken down like flies.” Your hand subconsciously reached across the table, interlocking tightly with Jacks own handcuffed one. “Why not leave? You clearly have the opportunity and funds to, why not build a life away from here. I know you probably already have a plan to escape from here given your history. Why not start a new life away from all this devastation and death? Like we had planned? Away from the violence and corruption.”
Jacks thumb had subconsciously began running soothingly across the top of your hand, an old habit he had when you two were together in your youth. “I have mission here doll, the chaos is fair and that's what Gotham deserves.” You let out a sigh and gazed into the honey pools that were his eyes. ��Gotham deserves to burn, but you don’t need to be a part of it. I came back here hoping to find you, start where we left off, get back the years I lost when I moved. Run away, please Jack.”
Jacks hand released from your and beckoned you over to where he was sitting, and without a second thought you complied, standing to walk over to him. He raised his cuffs into the air, allowing you to take a seat on top of his lap, the cuffs lowering, trapping your body near his. You instinctively leant against his strong form, your head hidden in the crook of his neck while his arms held you tightly against him. He smelt the same as odd as that was: vanilla, greasepaint, fir, and the slightest scent of cigarettes and gunpowder. “I can’t leave, I have a lot of big plans and unfinished business to attend to doll.” You could feel a small piece of you shatter at his words. You were so close to him, so close to the future you’d be dreaming of, a one where you and Jack could go back to the way things were all those years ago. 
“Please don’t hurt me like this- not again. Please Jack. I’ve missed you, more than you could even begin to comprehend. I need you in my life.” You felt a hum pass through his throat as he soaked in your words. This was the side of him you knew, the side you remembered so fondly. He was caring, a bit rough around the edges, and loyal beyond measure- this was the side of him most people wouldn’t believe existed due to his public history of violence and insanity. But to you, this wasn’t the Joker. This was Jack Napier, the boy you grew up with, your first relationship, your first, your first heartbreak, your first everything. To you, Jack had always been everything. He was your past, present, and future. The idea of having a future without him absolutely devastated you, you wanting nothing more than love him completely. 
You felt a rumbling groan escape from Jacks throat as he soaked in your words. “The things you do to me doll.” He licked his lips quickly, his teeth chewing on the inside of his scars afterwards as if thinking through what he was going to say. You pulled back from his neck and instead rested your hand on his shoulder, your eyes looking deeply into his. “Please Jack, don’t leave me alone again.” His eyes seemed stoic as he looked to you, “Doll, I’m not the Jack you knew anymore you have to realize that.” You nodded in response, your eyes not leaving his, “But you are, your actions and words are proving that to me. If you were cold, sadistic, and blood thirsty like the news makes you out to be, then why did you welcome me into your arms so easily. Why haven’t you attacked me? Yelled at me? Why haven’t you pushed me away? Why do I see the same spark mischief in your eyes that I did when we first met in third grade. Why do you still show the same compassion and care you’ve always showed me. You held my hand the way you always did late nights when we’d stargaze on your apartment roof. You’re changed but you’re still my Jack, even if nobody else sees it. Sure you have a few more scars than when I left, and your eyes hold a new darkness to them, but that hasn’t changed you, not where it counts.” Your hand made its way up to his cheeks, your fingers carefully brushing against his mangled cheeks, your eyes holding all the love in the world as you gazed upon the all to familiar man who sat in front of you.
“When you break out, please find me. I live on South 102nd street in the old Bowers building, third floor, fourth window to right from the street, right near the fire escape. Please just come home, even if it’s just for a little. I need you Jack.” He didn’t respond, only leaned forward and captured your lips with his own, your eyes immediately closing instinctually as your body pressed flush against his. He never had been one to profess his love, even when he was younger. You’d come to learn his love language was that of physical reaffirmation, showing you rather than telling. Jack always did feel that actions spoke louder than words, the physical aspect reaffirming his feelings more than words ever could. You knew this was his way of agreeing, of reciprocating your words. He needed you, he missed you, he loved you. You didn’t need him to say those words aloud for you to know- the kiss told you everything you needed to know. 
The two of you parted just as the door creaked open signaling that your visitation was over. A voice boomed from across the room, the voice of one of the security guards from earlier. “Times up, come on.” You laid a quick kiss to Jacks lips before whispering quickly in his ear, “I’ll see you soon love.” He hummed in response, showing you he heard you and acknowledged your parting words. You cast one final glance at him as you were lead out of the room by the guard. For the first time since moving to Gotham, you felt some hope for the future, your future with Jack. It wasn’t going to be the one you’d imagined, but any future with him in it was worth it in your eyes. He was yours, and you were his. That's all you need to feel secure.
End
Time: 2 hours 2 minutes 26
This was not grammar checked or proof read before posting.
Final Note: I’m not very happy with how I portrayed Jack in this or how it turned out. But hey, at least I wrote something down. Maybe I’ll rewrite it at some point, maybe not.
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passable-talent · 4 years
Note
Hi! Could you write “Was it necessary to tackle me on sight?” With Zuko please?
that’s something he would say... beautiful... eloquent... perfect.... thank u anon
it’s been a while. I apologize. I planned on catching up over spring break but then ! quarantine. I’m writing this at 2 AM. when inspiration strikes, ig
also? I have no understanding of how line breaks work on tumblr. why are some two pixels and some eighty
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Sure, you were friends with Zuko when you and he were children, but that wasn’t what got you here.
You were an honorary trainee of the Order of the White Lotus, living at their camp, outside of the walls of Ba Sing Se. This was very different, for you, though a welcome change. After all, you’d hated your job as a guard in the high-security prison of the fire nation, you’d hated living under the thumb of your mother, as she pushed you to be better than your late father, you’d hated everything about where you’d been, especially after you’d gotten the hint that Azula wanted to manipulate you into her little group.
So when Iroh broke out, you all but begged him to take you with him. And doesn’t he have a weakness for teenagers scorned by the fire nation?
Regardless, you’ve been living in this camp for a few weeks now, meditating and practicing not only your martial arts with Master Piandao, but learning to strengthen your bending with the styles of other elements, with Master Pakku and Master Bumi. They often commented that you had an ‘old soul’- or, in Master Bumi’s words, “they just hang out with us old farts too much!”
You’d learned so much, and felt as though your bending was much stronger than it had ever been before. Master Iroh often talked about the importance of the unity of the elements, but using traditional bending techniques from elements not your own seemed to make your power even stronger. Though you did not want Sozin’s comet, did not want to see what havoc Ozai would wreak upon the world with it, you were interested in seeing what it would feel like.
You were prepared to spend the day of the comet assisting the Order in the liberation of Ba Sing Se, though you also assumed you may at any point be given some other mission. Who knows- with Zuko’s involvement and Azula’s power lust, any number of your old friends might appear to whisk you away. You hoped it wouldn’t be Azula. She was okay when you were kids, as she was younger than you and so felt just a bit happier, but you looked back and recognized the manipulative traits that manifested into her current state of sociopathy. Zuko, on the other hand, you missed him dearly. He had been one of your closest friends, though you were sure he didn’t feel the same, and the only thing that broke your heart deeper than his banishment was that you hadn’t gotten to see him again between his return and the day of Black Sun. You missed him more than you could rationalize, and found him invading your thoughts at all times.
He was handsome when you were both twelve and attending school together. And you couldn’t really tell, as he was so far away on that podium on the announcement of his return, but you could feel in your gut that he had only grown moreso with age. And okay, sure, maybe you had an eensie-teensie crush on the fire prince, but who in their right mind didn’t?
It wasn’t that that made you want to see him again, majorly. You just missed your old friend.
Meditating was a good way to spend your time, especially since it was one of the main activities in this camp full of old men (though you were sure that sometimes Bumi just napped). You were deep in meditation for a few hours, not much on your mind beyond your breath cycle and your connection to the elements. When you found yourself prepared to get going again, you walked from your tent and saw a few other teenagers you’d never seen before, chatting with a few of the Order members. This confused you, and you glanced around in the direction of some of the other tents.
A few paces from Iroh’s tent was Zuko, taking meaningful strides back toward his friends and trying to hide the tears he’d finished crying just moments ago.
Zuko.
Within instants you’d bolted to him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders but overall slamming into him, knocking you both to the ground. You had a smile as bright as the sun on pulling on your lips.
“Was it necessary to tackle me on sight?” He asked, hugging back with a small laugh that broke through the slight shaking in his chest left over from his emotions.
“Yes,” you insisted, giving him one further squeeze before moving to your feet and holding your hand out to him. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you.”
“Three years isn’t that long,” he said, his smile fading as he regained control of his expression, but you could still see the happiness in his eyes. You recognized it, from when he was seven, and you used to challenge him to game like “who can eat the most spice without dying” at lunchtime.
“Tell that to how different you look,” you countered, crossing your arms over your chest, play-defensively.
“How different I am? You apparently aged forty years, living here with the white lotus.” You shook your head with a laugh, and wished for a moment that it could just stay like this, banter between old friends. With that wish came the dreaded realization, like cold water running down your spine, that both of you faced separate battles tomorrow, and either one of you may not come back.
“Zuko!” Called one of his friends, drawing both yours and the prince’s attention. “We better go!”
“They’re right,” Zuko said, looking back at you. You nodded in silence for a moment before slowly stepping forward and hugging him tightly again, laying your chin on his shoulder. He hugged back just as tight, fingers just briefly knotting into the fabric of your shirt. “I’ll see you again soon,” he said before he let go and jogged away, leaving you with a pounding heart and what seemed like an unkeepable promise.
And just like that, you had a whole new reason to stay alive.
-🦌 Roe
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sunburstbacchae · 3 years
Text
People of Divine Inspiration
Retelling of Aesop’s Fable 517 by KJ Denisen
Many have asked over the centuries why Queer people exist, lots of cultures having different myths on the topic, and many are similarly shocked to hear an answer has been told in ancient Greek folklore. They didn’t have all the words for trans and gay people, but the fabulist Aesop still managed to spin a tale about the origins of their existence. While some mythologies have stories of two-spirit people and some have stories Mesopotamian heroes, the Hellenics have the myth of Prometheus & Dionysos.
Long ago, during the new age of humanity and from the clay of Gaia the Great Mother Earth, the latest designs of the human body were being sculpted by the Titan Prometheus, titan of forethought and crafty console. Many ages had been led by the design of Prometheus, from the last age which ended in the great flood, to the age of women with the creation of Pandora, to the very first age of men that ended with him stealing fire from Olympus to save humanity from the cold and wild. Such lengths he goes for humanity have gotten him in a bit of trouble with the Theoi. After stealing the hearth-fire for many years he was shackled to Mount Kaukasos by King Zeus, subject to having his liver torn out each morning by a hawk only to have it grow back again in the night for the cycle to continue. He was liberated from his fate by the hero Herakles and now lives his life with a shackle around his ankle, carrying a piece of that mountain so Zeus could boast he’s still shackled to it to this day. Even now, dragging that stone with him, Prometheus still sculpts humanity, age by age, for the project of humanity and our lives thereof is still and forever dearest to his heart.
The newest age he intended to make with practicality in mind, having become wise by the three ages that proceeded. The first age of humanity created creatures with all the parts they needed; four legs, four arms, two heads and two sets of genitals. Before the age of women these people were split in half, creating beings with one or two of each part that now wander around spending their life trying to reconnect to their other half. Prometheus intended to make reconnection easy and for both spirits to compliment one another nicely. Men would have the phallus, the bodies for action and a heart for women while the women had the yonic, the minds for planning and a heart for men. The spirit of all was the same to facilitate this desire, an attraction to complementary opposites. This would create pairs that not only helped the other survive but fulfilled and enabled the humans to thrive with their other half. Such specific design was a labor of love, but a labor nonetheless. Never before had Prometheus put so much time and attention to detail into a project of his and he trekked restlessly to its completion.
Such a tired fate, however, was never unnoticed by Dionysos, the great Olympian of wine, theater, divine madness and festivities. Dionysos was a son of one of Prometheus’ very creations, the mortal princess Semele. He ascended from demigod to godhood like his half brother Herakles, though the two are rather opposites in persona with Herakles ascending to divine status through the pursuit of virtue and Dionysos ascending because he took rules as a light suggestion. He was worshipped by humanity, befriended by daemons & gods alike not only as the blurrer of lines, but for being the soother of worries, the liberator from stress and my goodness did it seem to him like Prometheus needed to be liberated from his workload. To a being older than the Olympian rule, the very youngest of the Olympians called to him.
“Great Prometheus, you’re going to keel over if you don’t take a break from your work. How long has this project been going on? You create humans and release them as they are made, but have trekked forward so long the new age of men has been going on for centuries. Your creations have had children, their children have had children. Europa has won the heart of Zeus and founded continents. Herakles has risen and fallen and ascended to Olympus. One of your earliest creations was the very woman Semele who gave birth to me and I’ve been wreaking havoc and shaking up the lives of mortals and spirits so long I hardly remember my own age! If you’re going to continue for even a fraction of this frankly ridiculous amount of time, the least you can do is allow me to show my gratitude for creating my wonderful mother and the many mortal women and men I’ve pursued romantically. Come now, put down your sculpting tools and rest your aching hands to have dinner with me. I’ve many fountains of wine to help ease that tension in your shoulders and mind and banquets to go with it from the harvest of lovely Demeter.”
Prometheus was shocked at the bold young Olympian and his invitation; most simply left him to his work thankless.
“Has it really been so long? My hands seem calloused and arms almost numb, yet unsure what to make of motions that do no work. Perhaps you’re right, little Olympian. I still have a long way to go until I’m complete, but I keep trying to make the perfect human, keep thinking the right one will be just after this load, but still there’s always something to improve upon. It feels like I’m stuck in a loop, so focused on making it perfect I just can’t finish it. Perhaps a break and some wine will clear my head. Maybe then the exact piece I’m missing will come to me, if only I relax and let it come. Lead the way, Dionysos.”
Dionysos led Prometheus away and brought him to one of the many banquets the cult of the Eleusinian Mysteries set forth in honor of his friend, Demeter, and Kore-Persephone, Dionysos’s mother of a past life. Trailed on by his retune of Maenad Nymphs and lustful Satyrs, accompanied by the god Pan and Titaness Rhea, gods of the wild nature, Dionysos became a good host to Prometheus, crowned him in wreaths of ivy and gifted all the wine and fresh food one could ask for. The band of Bacchae danced and sang of riots and revels until Helios the sun peeked over the horizon and it was time for Theoi to be sent back to their duties. After the party, Prometheus came home on an unsteady foot from all the wine he had drunk, giggling to jokes he had told himself and scarcely trying to remove the ivy still wound up in his hair.
As much as the night still lingered, he was still much more of a workaholic than an alcoholic and attempted to get back to work straight away after coming home. Unsteadily and with broad strokes he continued his work with the humans, growing increasingly frustrated that his hands refused to cooperate with where his eyes wanted them to go, knocking over glaze and brushes, staining blueprints and notes willy-nilly, bringing the poor titan to such frustration he was afraid he was going to weep.
At some point in his haze, he accidentally put a phallus on one of the women he created. When he caught this, he stopped and stared for a moment and found it so amusing he began mixing up the parts of all the humans he was working on. Women with phalluses and men with yonis and even some unlabeled bodies with either or both. Men with the gentle mind of wise Athena, women with the active mind of Ares and some with both or neither. The gentle hearts modeled after Aphrodite mixed up every which way so some had hearts for men, some for women, some for both. Some had more than one heart within them and found themselves to have too much love for just one person and some with blank hearts unable to be struck by the bow of Eros at all. In such a chaotic stupor he didn’t have the forethought he usually would to wait until he sobered up and brought these humans to life immediately, sending them off into the world. Still laughing, face red, he collapsed over his desk into a strange yet peaceful slumber.
When he awoke and saw the mess over his desk he recoiled and dread whatever he had done the night before. Going out to see his creations he found the batch of mixed-up humans and panicked, knowing he had just brought to life a bit of a chaotic mess and worried how well they’d fare in the world. As he lamented his fate, Dionysos reappeared, coming to check on his most likely hungover new friend and saw what he was fretting over. Dionysos’ eyes grew starry for these interesting humans and the still distraught (and now a little confused) Prometheus explained what happened the night before, lamenting that he may have to take them apart and fix them all. Dionysos stopped him in his tracks.
“Oh please Prometheus don’t take them apart! These humans of my divine inspiration are such delightful creatures, all so different and intriguing, they may all be let into my retune. Those with minds so different they can bend the fate of people and make room for new grounds in society. Those with hearts so full they match my Polyamrous spirit or so unmarked as to have more room for family and friends. As for those mismatched between the legs, they will Patroned by me especially for I remember being raised in the guise of a girl under one of my many foster mothers, Ino. Those women in the bodies of men, those men in the bodies of women, and those of either or neither I will guide to let humanity delight in the act of creating themselves. The way we grow grapes and not wine, the way we gift milk and not cheese, I will show them how to mix themselves, change themselves and even tear themselves apart to be put back together a more true version of their soul. I have seen them, and soon they will see me.”
Prometheus found inspiration in the young Theoi’s words. Perhaps he’d been so caught up in making them perfect he hadn't been able to accept them as they were. With this in mind he completed the last and biggest group of humans. All spirits still call for their complementary, but now each in ways the other cannot. Every pair or group brought together by Aphrodite now had a unique relationship, more than the sum of its parts. Pairs of smart and strong men, pairs of yonic and phallic women, groups of balanced hearts and souls and single humans complete within themselves. Even within that batch creating the strong and cunning woman Ariadne, who’d go on to wed Dionysos and ascend to the status of goddess by his side. While Prometheus made the simple pieces of common society, it was always Dionysos who specialized in thinking & creating outside the box.
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jenomark · 4 years
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Part 3
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➔Pairing: Idol!Haechan x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: Johnny ➔Genre: Smut (but with a plot!) ➔Warnings: vaginal penetration ➔Word count: 6,500
➔Summary: He’s an idol, a friend, and you took his virginity. Beginning your friends-with-benefits relationship with Haechan wasn’t the best idea, but you just can’t help yourself when it comes to him.
↞ Part 1 ↞ Part 2 
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  You needed a soft place to land when you fell. He pretended like he wasn’t the right kind of landing, his Gemini lips razor sharp, the words pouring from his mouth meant to bewitch you. Though he’d never admit it, the boy was a soft caramel candy that melted between your lips, his chocolate center all over your tongue. Emotional unavailability turned into him showing up when you were sad, when you could feel nothing at all. He walked aimlessly until he found himself at your door. He always answered your calls. All the promises and needs in the world began to feel like commitment, his belongings placed strategically all over your apartment, the roof of his mouth hiding the dreaded B word. Boyfriend. Best friend.  In the darkness, he would feel you, notice you, make you real again. He would unwrap you like a piece of candy, moving you around in his fingers until he wanted a taste. In the light, you were free falling.
11:46 a.m.
You:  What do you mean Johnny is on his way?
11:52 a.m.
You: He’s here! What should I do? I’m not ready for this.
11:53 a.m.
You:  I am going to kill you, Donghyuck.
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                          24 Hours before Haechan sent the texts
  Haechan let himself into your apartment. He never walked up your stairs unannounced. He told you he respected the line between privacy and whatever you were doing together, but you thought he was just too scared to see you in your natural habitat. Standing outside in the daylight made him nervous, and hiding behind doors had become so natural with his profession. You didn’t mind, even if it brought up a ton of questions you weren’t ready to answer. Secretly, you liked going to the top of your stairs and seeing him standing there, only his eyes visible underneath his Balenciaga hat. There were days he barely made it up the stairs before you jumped on him, your mouth and hands full of longing. 
“You’re late.” you said.
“Wrong,” he said. “It’s exactly ten in the morning. If I’m late, it’s because your clocks are wrong.”
  He trudged up the steps with his face looking down. In one of his hands was a gift bag, and in the the other, flowers so vibrantly red that you could see them in the darkness of the stairwell. When he reached the top of the steps, he pulled his mask down and pecked you on the lips. Watching him walk through your apartment felt natural. He knew exactly where to put the flowers. He padded around in your slippers, his movements so comfortable you would think he was shifting his mail from the table. He sat in his favorite chair facing you, his hands rummaging around in the bag he brought. There was something about his ease of existing that made you remember how you felt about him. He wasn’t quiet in the slightest. He yelled in your space, his lungs expanding to fill the room with a confident breath. You wheezed.  More and more, you were realizing he was everything you wanted to be, everything you wanted to be with. He won.
“You look handsome.” you said.
  Haechan’s hair was faded, and it matched his skin tone even better than his natural hair color did. Dark hair, you had come to realize, made him look more like a child. The Haechan before you was a man, the veins in his arm ropy and thick, like he had worked every day for the last ten years. You had looked at him many times before, but each time was more eye-opening than the last. You began to notice the little scars on his face without the shift of light. You could draw every mole on his body without a map, knew the faces he made when he was annoyed with menial things, and it was getting easier to spot all of the signs that you were falling for. 
“I know.” he said without his usual lack of enthusiasm. 
 Out from the bag came a box. You didn’t have to hear him say it to know what it was. He smiled when he pulled it out, ripping off the plastic like he was tearing into a present he had always wanted. Haechan got up from his chair to present you with his gift: a brand new phone to replace the one he had broken. You were a little taken aback, your eyes darting over the face of the box, and your hands not knowing what to do with themselves. 
“You know,” you said. “Most girls would expect jewelry.”
  He wasn’t listening. He unearthed the phone from its box and held it in his hands. You felt the weight of your own slightly damaged phone in your pocket. He once called you stubborn because you refused to upgrade to a better model, but you were never one to burn money on things you didn’t need. Your phone still worked. Besides, the ridiculous attachment you had to it was difficult to explain. 
“What do you think?” he asked, holding out the phone for you to inspect. “Do you like it?”
  Haechan had peeled away the plastic to reveal the phones shiny facade. It was the same model as his, but he held it differently in the palm of his hand. You could tell that he wanted you to be pleased by his act of generosity. You made eye contact with him and smiled. You didn’t want a new phone, and he knew that.
“It’s nice,” you said. “You didn’t have to buy me a new phone. I thought you were joking when you said that.”
  Again, Haechan wasn’t listening to you. He looked down at the phone and turned it on. He sat back down in the chair to fidget with it, his fingers smudging the screen. You sat on the edge of the couch and tucked your hands between your legs. 
“We can get everything properly set up tomorrow,” he said. “Until then, you’ll have to use your old phone.”
“Why tomorrow?” you asked. “Why not today?”
“I have a date today,” he said.  He checked the expensive watch on his wrist. “I really shouldn’t be here right now. “
“Oh,” you said. “A date?”
  Your voice sounded too high, too sad. You cleared your throat. You opened your mouth to say something else, but the message was marked for deletion. You blinked a few times, the make-up you wore last night making your eyes stick together. You felt like a robot waiting for someone to program the right things for you to say. Speak now. Tell him you’re not bothered. You stood up, wishing desperately that you could retract the emotion from your voice. You took the phone from his hands and thanked him quietly, dragging the bag out from between his legs. You felt awkward and silly for ever thinking that you could be more than just friends. You moved around the room, cleaning up things that were already clean. You needed to keep busy, needed to keep your mind distracted. You could feel Haechan watching you spiral, but you didn’t dare turn to look at him. You wanted to keep just a little bit more of your dignity. 
“Johnny set me up with another idol,” he said.  “ I’m sorry. I didn’t know about it until I came home last night. I was going to tell you, but I wanted to tell you in person.”
“No,” you said, still moving. “It’s okay. You don’t need to tell me anything, Donghyuck. You have your life, and I have mine. We’re adults.”
  Haechan stood up. His slippered feet were loud on your floor. Each step he took felt like a stab to your heart. You didn’t stop moving. You pushed a chair in. You shifted an empty box onto another table. You caressed a plant in passing, its leaves already dead. You wiped invisible dust from a table top. You stared at the clock on your wall a little too long, as if you too were expecting suitors to come knocking on your door. He was right. Your clock was running too fast. Haechan followed you as you moved, the sound of him making you nervous. He was trying to get your attention, but you were avoiding him. There was a speck of dirt across the room that you needed to attend to. You were going to rid it from this earth until he moved in front of you, blocking your path.
“Talk to me,” he said. “I want to be honest with you.”
“What should I say?”
  You dropped your arms to your side. You stared at him directly, your eyes so wide, your back ramrod straight. You wanted to give the appearance of confidence but you feared that you just looked unhinged. You took a deep breath and waited for him to talk, but he didn’t.
Even though you knew it was a mistake, you continued, “ I’m happy for you. I’m sure she’s a lovely girl.”
“It’s just a date,” he said. “I’m not getting married.”
“That’s good to hear,” you said. “Who knows? Maybe you will marry her and you’ll live happily ever after.” 
 The sarcasm was too thick to strain from your voice. You could feel the conversation turning sour, in real time. You looked at him and he looked at you, his beautiful face full of sun. You turned around and closed the blinds, in a huff. You didn’t want the outside world to see what kind of person you could become when you were backed into a corner. In your short time being with him, you both managed to keep the real world out of your relationship. You never fought with him. If you bickered, the make-up sex saved you from destruction. You never found an issue with anything he did.  For you, everything he did was a preface to the love story you sometimes fantasize about having with him. He was always the one person in your life whose relationship to you was well defined.  You were the one in the wrong. Even though you knew it well, you couldn’t stop your emotions from wreaking havoc on what you had built in your little apartment. Haechan didn’t just take the steps up to you all on his own. You were the one who met him halfway, and you walked the rest of the way up together.
“What’s wrong? You look sad, ” he asked. “Talk to me.”
 You tried moving past him, but he held you by your arms. You couldn’t look him in the eyes without crying, so he took your chin and forced you to. You didn’t know how to tell him that the thought of him being with someone else made you feel sick. It didn’t seem right to ask him not to go on the date. 
“Nothing is wrong,” you said. “Everything is okay, on my end.” 
  Haechan dropped your head. You could see the annoyance on his face. Though he tried to be patient, he was physically tired.  He looked away from you and looked at the blinds you had closed. You took a step back from him. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was sadness you read on his face, too.
“Are we friends?” he asked.
You were surprised by the question. “Of course we’re friends. Donghyuck, I’ve never wanted to be someone's friend as badly as I wanted to be yours. ”
 He looked back at you. He was searching your eyes for the truth, the real truth. He never quite trusted you with his thoughts, his fears, or his concerns. You hoped for profound conversations with him, but he was a wall full of locks.  Reading him was even more difficult than you thought it’d be. The sadness you thought you saw looked a little like humiliation when you opened the box to look inside. Were you the one who had read too much into the relationship? Did he show up at all hours of the night only because he felt sorry for you?
“Go on the date,” you said. “Live your life.” 
“Is that what you want?”
No. “ I want you to be happy.” 
  Haechan laughed. There was no joy in his laugh, only sorrow. “You frustrate me,” he said. He walked forward, and you walked backward until your back was up against the blinds. “Tell me what you want from me.”
“I want you to go on the date.” you said. 
  Your automatic responses returned. You sounded dead inside, a hollow, metal body without any feeling. The moment he interlocked your fingers with his and looked down at the way your hands fit together, you could feel yourself becoming real. You had feelings, a heart, and thoughts in the shape of him. He touched his free hand to your cheek, warming your skin with his. He removed his hat and moved forward enough so that you could kiss his forehead. 
“If that’s what you want,” he said softly.
  Haechan picked you up and set you delicately on top of the table in front of the window. Your ass barely balanced on its edge, but with your legs wrapped around his waist, you kept yourself steady. As he kissed you, your head hit the window. You pulled the shirt tucked into his pants, but you didn’t let go of his hand. He lifted your arms together and pushed them against the blinds. You could hear them snapping in half, but you didn’t care. You could feel his tongue in your mouth. You could feel his devotion to you covering all your wounds, like a band-aid. 
“Not here,” you whispered.
  He lifted you up into his arms and tried carrying you to the bedroom, but you didn’t make it. You both capsized, sinking down onto the floor amidst boxes that didn’t belong to you, and a heart that didn’t, too. You looked up at him and brushed his hair from his face. He smiled, but the smile never reached his eyes.
  When you felt him move inside of you for what you promised yourself should be the last time, you lost yourself in the heat. You pushed him off of your body until he was on his back. You held his arms down so he couldn’t touch you, and you rode him until you were sure you had fucked him out of your system.
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  You tormented yourself with thoughts of him meeting a woman without a face. Underneath the pixelations, she must have been pretty, but it didn’t matter. Around 3 p.m, you imagined him picking her up for the date. He would avoid the public's attention and roll up in a managers car, his window rolled down a little so she would know it was him. Maybe she was a singer, and when she got in the car, she sang him a song that made him fall in love with her. Those thoughts chased you through your day, even after you tried sleeping them away. Your hands felt full of his body, long after he left. Around 5 p.m,  you touched yourself, imagining it was his hand drawing up your inner thigh.
 When Haechan left, he looked back at you from the bottom of the stairs. You leaned against the wall and let your hair fall in front of your face. He left the new phone with you. As always, he was going to leave his jacket on the hook. You were angry with him for not actualizing how his date would affect you. You couldn’t continue to fuck someone else’s man, even if it was after something as harmless as a first date. You would give him space to figure out what he wanted.
“I’ll see you,” he said. 
  You knew he meant later, or tomorrow. He didn’t find much of a problem with dating someone casually and then coming over to your apartment to fuck you. You excused him because of his age, but you didn’t think it was that valid of an excuse. After you fucked, you asked him politely to get dressed and leave. Haechan dressed silently, looking at you the whole time he was buckling his belt. If you returned his gaze, you knew you’d never let him walk out of your life.
“Yeah.” you said.
“Is that all you’re going to say to me?” he asked.
  Haechan placed the hat back on his head. You fought the urge to bowling ball yourself down your stairs and knock that hat right from his head. You didn’t own him. You didn’t want to own him. You didn’t want to be upset, and you didn’t want to keep so damn silent about how you really felt. Deep down, you convinced yourself that maybe it was for the best. Your relationship might never have worked if you brought it beyond sex, and if it did, you weren’t sure the rest of the world would accept you. It was natural for Haechan to date another idol, to avoid the press for as long as possible before making an announcement on some shitty tabloid website. It was natural for you to shut people out, holding yourself up in your apartment and only caring about work and the five hundred boxes that crowded your space.
“We’ll talk later.” you said.
 You decided to smile, to hide behind the pain that both of you could see standing at the top of the stairs, your heart bleeding down into your shoe. He turned his back on you and walked out of your door, slamming it shut behind him. 
  Since he left, you’d been moping around. You cried a few times, throwing the tissues onto the floor once you were done with them. You kept the blind shuts and watched movies all day, your legs folded haphazardly underneath you. Around half past seven at night, your phone pinged. You reached for it underneath all the tissues. The cracks in the phone let the light shine dully, but it was so bright in the dark apartment that it hurt your eyes. 
“What do you want?” you asked out loud.
  You saw Haechan’s text on your lock screen, a picture of him smiling behind it. Ignoring it would have been the wise choice, but you were too nosy for that. You took your phone and slid the lock open, your eyes squinting to read the texts. 
Haechan: Hope you’re doing well, y/n! I’m having coffee in this cold weather. It doesn’t taste too great. Dress warmly and stay healthy. Remember to take care of yourself.  I love you.
  When you noticed it was an automated text, you dropped your phone on the couch. As a joke, Haechan had set you up with an account weeks ago. “This way, “ he said. “Even when I’m not with you, I’m with you.” The texts he sent sometimes made you laugh. You could always tell when he wrote something with you in mind. Thousands of girls saw it every day, but the message was always meant just for you. You picked up your phone again and looked at the message. As you did, a selfie came through. In it, he was barely smiling, and his finger was poking his cheek. Looking closely at the background, you could see that he was at home. You had never been at his dorms, but he had sent you many graphic pictures from his bed. 
 You sat up and looked around your apartment. He was home. You stood up, your legs asleep, the pins and needles stabbing all the way down to your feet. You started at a run, but the pain was so great that you stumbled into a few boxes, knocking them over with a loud crash. You couldn’t move fast enough. You ran down your steps, stuffed your angry feet into your shoes, grabbed his jacket from the hook and wrapped it around your body. Flinging open your front door, you were immediately met with wind and rain. You went out anyway, holding your face away from the spray. You called an Uber and waited too long, your body shivering. When the car came, you didn’t make pleasantries with the driver. You tapped your hands on your knees the whole time and looked out of the window, asking yourself a million times what you were doing.
“Here!” you shouted when the Uber driver didn’t stop immediately.
“Let me pull over.” he said gruffly, his hand turning the wheel. 
 You waited impatiently, looking over your shoulder to see if anyone was walking down the street. In his neighborhood, it was easy to get caught, which is why you always avoided his dorm. Walking into the members on accident was extra dynamite in your path. You wouldn’t know how to explain why you were standing outside of their building in Haechan’s jacket, and with a scared shitless expression on your face.
“Please hurry,” you whispered, biting your knuckles. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
  You didn’t want to be too late. The whole ride over, you imagined how there was a possibility that he didn’t go home alone. You were the only person he had ever slept with. You didn’t know if he would take everything he learned from you and pass it onto someone else. You didn’t know if that was what he wanted.
  When the car pulled into the spot, you flung yourself out of it with only a thank you as a parting gift. You stood on the sidewalk and looked up at the building, breaking eye contact only as a couple passed you on the pavement. It had started snowing, the flakes falling from the sky so beautifully before they melted on the ground. You looked down at them landing on Haechan’s jacket, its beauty perfectly captured before it sunk down into the fabric. You looked back up at the building and thought about turning back when your phone pinged.
Haechan: Are you dressed warmly?
  At first, you thought it was another automated message. It wasn’t. You rubbed your thumb over his name, your fingernail getting stuck in the crack. You loved the phone so much, because every bit of him was all over it. You could transfer photos and keep them in clouds and drives, but his fingers were all over the buttons, and the memories of your smile were trapped behind the screen.  You ran your finger over the crack again, before replying:
You: I am. 
Haechan: Liar
  You looked down at your phone. Reading the word Liar made you feel emotional. You wiped a tear that had fallen on your cheek, with the back of your hand. You kept remembering how,  in the beginning,  you asked him if he was brave enough. You believed that you were the one prepared for him, but you weren’t. You were the coward. 
You: I’m very warm. You didn’t like the coffee?
Haechan: No
You: What was wrong with it?
Haechan: It wasn’t made by you
You: Oh.
Haechan: Are you going to tell me the truth now?”
You: About what?
  Your heart was hammering in your chest. You lifted your head up to the sky and felt the snow softening on your face. When you looked back down at your phone, he had already written back: 
Haechan: About being dressed warmly. I’ve worn that jacket, and it’s always made me cold.
 You smiled, because he was right. It took you too long to grasp what he had said. When you did, you looked up and there he was. Haechan put his phone back into his jacket and looked you up and down. The way you both stood mimicked the night you decided you couldn’t wait to have him any longer. This time, it was him who closed the gap between you. There were no thoughts, no words, no long, drawn out sighs. Haechan took a step toward you and pulled you against his chest. 
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“Don’t worry, “ he said. “They won’t be back until midnight. We’re alone. ” 
  You clung to his arm in the elevator, your cheek taking a rest on his shoulder. The ride up to his dorms was mostly silent. Haechan hummed a song and you just listened, the warmth of the building making you feel sleepy. There was so much you wanted to confess, but it didn’t feel like the right time to talk. When the elevator stopped at his floor, he took your hands and moved you forward. 
“Are you ready to see where I live?” he asked. “Where I think about you every single night?”
 Your heart had been beating against your rib cage the entire time, and it wasn’t getting any quieter. You kept waiting for a manager to meet you at the door, for one of his members to catch you in the act of holding hands. When Haechan swung his front door open, you had to stop yourself from closing your eyes to shield yourself from any impending doom. 
“Ta-da.” he said, his voice sounding so small. 
  Haechan was right. You were alone. The living space was empty and dark, the only light coming from a source over the stove. You took a step inside and removed your shoes. He offered you his slippers which were too big for you, but you liked having a part of him in the way he had you.
“What do you think?” he asked.
  There was no girl waiting on the couch, her small face confused by your presence. There wasn’t anyone coming to pull the rug from underneath your feet. Haechan led you further inside, his hands never releasing yours. You didn’t want to pry too much into their private lives, so you swept your eyes over a few things before searching his face. He looked content with having you there, albeit, a little bit nervous. 
“I like it,” you said. “It’s much nicer than my place.”
“Obviously,” he said. 
  You nudged him, playfully. Haechan pulled you in the direction of a door. You could feel a sickness growing in your stomach. You didn’t think you were ready to see his bedroom, the life he led beyond your world. Though you worked for the same man, your lives couldn’t be any more different. Haechan put his hand on his doorknob. At the same time, you felt something tug harder on your insides.
“Wait,” you said, pulling his arm. “Are you sure you want me to see this? There is no going back, if we do.”
“It’s just my bedroom,” he said. “You don’t have to be so scared. You let me in. Now, let me. “
You nodded. “Okay.” 
  Haechan opened the door to reveal a bedroom that could have existed anywhere. His blankets and sheets were blue and plain. His white furniture was from IKEA, a wireless charger and a packet of make-up wipes resting on top. There was a speaker, a computer, and a bathroom off to the side. You kept expecting some kind of secret to jump out at you from behind the curtain, but when you looked at the window, you only saw your reflection staring back at you.
“Come in, “ he said. “ It’s really okay, I promise.”
 You walked further inside. Haechan shut and locked the door behind him. You stood awkwardly, your eyes taking in the symmetry of the room. You knew Johnny was his roommate and could figure out which things belonged to him. You didn’t love being among Johnny’s personal things when he didn’t know. You thought you could smell his cologne haunting you, but then you turned around to see a table with expensive bottles on top. Relax.
“It’s nice, “ you said. “This isn’t how I imagined it. I thought it would be messier.”
“Me?” he asked. “Messy?  You know me. I’m not messy.”
“Do I know you?” you asked.
  It was meant to be taken lightly, but Haechan’s face looked sad. You felt bad for saying it. You were going to apologize but then he took off his jacket and threw it in a corner of the room. You looked to where it fell, the lump it had become looking even more somber. When you turned back to him, he was pulling his shirt from his torso. You watched him strip until he was fully naked and standing at the end of his bed, his body for you to witness.
“This is me,” he said. “Your tongue knows me. Your hands, they’ve touched me in more places than this body. You find your way back to me when you’re sad. We try to fight it, but we’re not strong. You and I, we’re gutless. But I have a heart. I thought I could make it go away easily, but that isn’t true. You said I was intelligent once, and that isn’t true either. If I were intelligent, I would have told you a long time ago how I felt. I would have been brave. I accepted that date from Johnny because I was scared. “
“It doesn’t matter,” you said, shaking your head. 
“It does to me,” he said. “I wanted you to fight for me. If I couldn’t do it, I wanted it to be you. I’ve always wanted it to be you. When I finally got you, I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want it to ever end, but I knew we couldn’t keep going like that. “
  You stood in his room, and you removed your clothes, too. Piece by piece, they fell at your feet, each wrapping plunging to the floor. Being naked was easy, with him. You had sex so many times that you’d lost count. Being exposed to him felt different. You could feel that there was nothing left blocking the path between you. 
“So, we stop,” you said, stripping the last piece of clothing. “ Donghyuck, let's please stop. I’m tired.”
  He breached the space, his mouth on yours, his tongue melting like snowflakes on yours. You wrapped your arms around his middle and kept your body pressed tightly to his. He fell backwards onto his bed, with you on top of him. His hands were tangled in your hair before wandering all down your back. The noises coming from his throat as he kissed you were desperate. You moved your kisses down his body, from the tip of his chin, down his throat, over his chest, and on the sides of his hips. He was quiet and still, his fists clenching and unclenching. 
“I love you.” he whispered.
  You looked up. You kissed his mouth and asked him to say it again. Each time he did, you swallowed the words to keep them safe. Haechan gripped your waist and flipped you over until you were on your back. You hit the bed hard, your head bouncing back up. You had bitten your lip and tasted metallic on your tongue, but the pain made you laugh. You felt so happy, even when he looked distressed. Haechan held you close like he had damaged you, his head obscured by your neck.
“It’s okay, “ you whispered. “That’s not the first time you made me bleed.”
  As if remembering how roughly he had fucked you before, Haechan’s lust woke up from a deep sleep. He used his arms to raise himself above you. He looked like he was lost in a daze of happiness, his hair already a mess, his eyes already gleaming. Though it wasn’t the first time you had sex that day, it was the first time you felt fully in one piece. There would be time for more honest talks, but right then, it was time to make love to him.  You touched his chest before moving your hand down his belly to play with the fine hair there. His strength was minimal, so his arms shook as he held himself in that position. You wrapped your hands around his cock, the softness of it welcoming you home. 
“Baby, the things you do to me.” he whimpered, his words from before summoning so many feelings within you.
  You let him take the lead. He had learned enough from you, heard enough from you. He let you get him hard before taking over, his cock primed for your body. He kissed you again, his lips so soft and wet. You pulled him down so that you could hug him as he entered you, his body filling you up with so much love. Knowing that it wasn’t going to be the last time made it feel better than you could have imagined. Getting to be with him in a place so personal as the bed he slept in every day, progressed your relationship further than you ever would have thought.
  When all was finished, you wanted to fall asleep in his arms. You didn’t want to remember that it wasn’t over yet, that you were still a secret tucked safely underneath his bed sheets. You held onto him for a little bit longer before you had to let go.
“What happens now?” you asked, getting dressed.
  Haechan smiled. He was sheepish, his body folding like an accordion, back and neck bent, his throat so full of the most magical music. He put on his clothes inside out and brushed the hair nervously from his forehead. 
“We do what normal couples do,” he said. “We keep moving forward.”
“But we’re not a normal couple.” you said.
  You were fully dressed and ready to go. When he was finished, he brought you out into the living room so that you could put on your shoes. While you did that, he went back into his bedroom to erase every trace of you. You didn’t know if his members would be able to hear your moans as soon as they stepped foot in the dorm, your voice clinging like static electricity onto the curtains. To you, the smell of fresh sex stuck to everything. It wasn’t difficult to take one look at Haechan’s bedroom and know that love lived there. 
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Yes. “ 
  Before he opened the front door, he kissed you one last time. You wanted him to sleep over at your place, but he had a schedule tomorrow. When one issue was moved from the path, a few more tumbled down. 
“But I will talk to you when I can,” he said. “And I will send you pictures of me so you don’t forget me.”
“I could never forget you.” you said. 
  You held him as you walked all the way to the elevator. He tried tickling you by slipping his fingers underneath your jacket, but you squirmed away. When you brought yourself back to him, you were both laughing and playing around. When the elevator signaled that it was getting ready to open, you parted naturally, but your hands were still moving towards each other like magnets.  When the elevator doors opened, Johnny stood there with headphones in his ears and his eyes looking from Haechan, to you. 
“Hello.” Johnny greeted you, pulling the headphones from his ears and letting them rest around his neck.
  You nodded in greeting, your brain trying to remember how you must have looked to him. You were dressed. Check. Your hair was not a mess. Check. Both of your shoes were on the right feet. Check. You were too scared to look at Haechan. You didn’t want your look to betray anything you did in his bedroom. Johnny was very intelligent, and you knew it wouldn’t take much to make him suspicious. A second passed while you were thinking all of this. You thought you were out of the clear before Haechan stepped away from you, widening the already wide gap between you. You looked over at him at the same time as Johnny. The guilt on Haechan’s face was printed in red all across his cheeks. 
“You’re back early.” Haechan said.
Johnny smiled. “Yeah. Were you not expecting me back?”
  When Johnny looked at you, you knew it was over. You expected him to question both of you on the spot, but he just raised his eyebrows at Haechan and walked past him. When the door to the dorm shut behind Johnny, Haechan breathed a sigh of relief, but you weren’t so relaxed.
“He knows.” you said.
“Johnny?” Haechan asked. “He doesn’t know anything. I think he’s oblivious.”
  You really tried to hold onto that belief for as long as you possibly could. For a moment, as night turned to day, you pretended like you had fooled everyone. 
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                                                Present Day
11:54 a.m.
You: Donghyuck!!
  Your phone slipped out of your hands and onto the floor as a fist hammered at your front door. You didn’t care about having another crack in your screen. After all, what was one more crack in your mess of a life? Quietly, you walked down your stairs. You waited at the bottom and hoped that he would stop knocking, that Johnny would disappear altogether.
“I can hear you breathing.” Johnny said through the door.
  You smoothed out the clothes you wore last night. When you got home, you fell into bed emotionally exhausted, without bothering to change. You liked to think you fell asleep with a smile on your face, but you were worried sick about how much Johnny knew. Waking up to Haechan’s texts was a nasty but unsurprising shock. 
“Sorry.” you muttered.
  You opened up the front door and gave Johnny your best “I’m innocent!” smile. He wasn’t wearing the clothes from the night before. In fact, he looked almost too perfect: his clothes pressed and his hair and make-up done. 
“Hi,” he said. “Can I come in?”
“I’m kind of busy right now,” you said. “Maybe come back later?”
“I think you’ll want to let me in for this.” he said.
  Johnny took his phone out of his pocket. You looked at the way his fingers worked to pull up a screen. You held onto the door to brace yourself, which was smart of you do. Johnny lifted up his phone to show you a picture of Haechan holding you outside of the 127 dorm, his arms wrapped tightly around you. 
“Someone saw you and Haechan last night,“ he said. “ They pulled out their phone, took pictures, and then sold those pictures. The owner of those pictures now wants you to make an announcement through them, or they’re threatening to release a bunch of them today. So, can I come in now?”
  You took Johnny’s phone out of his hand and thumbed through a gallery of pictures taken outside of the building and what looked like pictures of the security footage from inside of the elevator. You handed the phone back to Johnny. You tried to work through the tornado of feelings swirling inside of you, but all that could come out of your mouth was a resounding “ Fuck.” 
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ready-to-obeyme · 4 years
Text
[OM!] Amaranthine (Lucifer/MC)
Summary: To open his heart up to someone again and love someone unconditionally, without abandon-- a mortal nonetheless-- Lucifer has never understood Lilith more or been more afraid. There will never be enough time to love you, just as there was nothing he could do to change that.
So he must let you go.
Alternatively: Is it better to have loved and lost or to have never loved at all?
Word Count: ~1700
Notes: gn!MC, fluffy beginning but mainly angst, unhappy ending
amaranthine (adj): of an imaginary flower than never fades
--
Lucifer doesn’t remember the last time he’s ever felt content. Satisfaction comes close, but that feeling stems from pride in oneself, in one’s work. (Lucifer is familiar with satisfaction.) But when he wakes up on a quiet, weekend morning with his arm around your waist, the smell of the shampoo in your hair, and the gentle beating of his heart, he finally knows what it means to be content. To be so at ease that all he needs is to bury his face into the crook of your neck to fall asleep again; to be so untroubled that he need not worry about whether or not you’ll be there when he wakes up, because you will-- without a doubt.
When the rubble settled and the dust cleared and the drama dissipated from the House of Lamentations, Lucifer finds himself tripping over himself falling in love with you (as embarrassing as it is for him to admit that). It makes sense, now that he thinks upon it, that his heart would choose someone that had played the pivotal role in resolving the conflict within his family and mending the fraying bonds between him and his brothers. Exceedingly helpful as you were, he knows he was falling for you before you had any hand in assisting any of his brothers. Your heart was golden and your courage (though often he would call it recklessness) when it comes to protecting those you loved knew no bounds.
Lucifer walked you home and you held his hands. You stayed by his side while he worked and he gave you his attention. He kissed you good night and then you said, “I love you.”
Six months after you came down to the Devildom and wreaked havoc on the brothers’ lives (and brought them infinite joy), you no longer had to ask if you could wake up next to him.  
Things were never perfect, but they were happier times. It was almost dream-like; he lived in a haze with you, taking whatever you would give him and giving whatever he could.
(And for you there was never a good time to bring up something that was potentially upsetting. Perhaps it was because you were mortal and time was intrinsically more precious, but the time that you had left in the Devildom loomed over your head like a guillotine.
Perhaps another time, you would tell yourself as you fell asleep in his arms. Another day, when the time is right, you say to yourself firmly when you see Lucifer smiling with his brothers, watching Mammon throw popcorn in the air and Beel catch them in his mouth. Another night, you think as you lie in bed, brushing your hand through Lucifer’s hair as he barely keeps his eyes open after a long night of work. This conversation can wait another day.
You hear his breathing even, but even after hours pass, you lie awake, wondering how you could find the courage to possibly break his heart.)
Months pass and Diavolo-- with dreams larger than life, than all three realms put together-- reminds him that all dreams do end eventually.
“Do you think we should have a party, Lucifer,” Diavolo says to him as the meeting ends, “when the exchange program ends?”
And Lucifer can only look at him, barely controlling the tremble of his lips as he recalls the days that have passed, and the days he has left.
There is never enough.
.
.
.
The problem with being content, ultimately, is that you are complacent. And when the world catches you unaware, it slits your throat without hesitation.
Lucifer walks into the House of Lamentation and climbs the stairs to his bedroom with a calm he does not feel. He dreads finding you, knowing full well what he must say as the final month of the exchange program comes to a close. Was there a way he could have prevented this? He thought to himself, some way to avoid the hurt that inevitably would come?
Lucifer opens the door to see you waiting for him, curled up in bed reading a book. The smile you give him, for once, does not ease his heart.
“Hey, Lucifer,” you start to say, “meeting with Diavolo?”
“Yes,” he says, clearing his throat. It is dry no matter how many times he swallows. He turns away from you and shrugs off his coat. "The meeting went… a little long." Lucifer places his hands on the vanity and looks into the mirror to see his face that will never age.
"...Lucifer?" You ask cautiously, having sensed something in the way he spoke or the way he moved. Lucifer sees you set down the book on the bedside table in the mirror and look at him in concern.
(He should have known better. A demon cannot resist temptation, cannot deny himself something that he wants, and he wishes you were not so tempting, not so loving that he couldn’t resist wanting to be with you.)
"Lucifer--”
“I think it’s best for the both of us if we break up.”
Lucifer hears your voice, high and strained in the background, accompanied by the ringing in his ears. It helps to hear the range of emotions from you as you traverse past shock, to disbelief, before settling on a horrified anger, because he can feel himself becoming your antithesis: calm, separated, and stoic.
“Where is this coming from?” You demand, standing up from the bed, silk sheets strowned haphazardly. He doesn't need to turn to know your eyes are blazing with a righteous fury and fear. "Lucifer, please,” you say, “talk to me."
Lucifer has a list in his mind, of excuses that roll off the tongue easier, that are better to swallow than the truth.
"When you leave the Devildom," he tells you, "I will return to the life I had before you came. I will not be able to visit you in the human realm nor have time to converse with you as we do now as I will return to Diavolo’s service."
Lucifer falters for a moment before continuing, tugging off his tie violently and tossing it onto the vanity. "Our relationship will become inconvenient and cumbersome,” he tells you. From the corner of his eyes, he sees your face reflected on the mirror: frightened and pale. He covers your reflection with a step to the right and looks away.
"If we want to conserve the good memories we've made here… then it is best if we did not continue this relationship.”
The room was quiet, save for the murmuring outside the walls as the brothers moved about in the House preparing for supper. When you finally speak, your voice is quiet, “Did I do something wrong?”
“No!” Lucifer spoke fervently, turning his head to convince you as much. But when he turns and sees you flinch, he turns away again and softens his tone. “No, that’s not it,” he says, glancing down at the vanity. “You haven’t done anything wrong. You’ve…” He feels his shoulders slump tiredly, relieved he could speak truthfully, “You’ve been good to me, to all of us-- more than I could ever ask for.”
“Then why?”
Lucifer opens his mouth, and the lies tumble out like sand through his clenched teeth, “You won’t be happy with me.”
“Why do you get to decide what makes me happy?" He hears you retort, approaching him but never quite within arm’s reach, "What if being with you makes me happy?”
"I don’t mind the long-distance, or- or waiting for the exchange program to start again or have you visit sometimes…" The more you speak, the less sure you sound, as if you’re trying to convince yourself, and the knowing must have shown on his face because you sigh and go silent for a moment.
“Look, I’m sorry. I-- we should have talked about this earlier,” you say, and he believes you. “But I mean it. I want--" a slight pause, "I want this relationship to work, Lucifer.”
“But we-- but we can make it work.” You grow quiet. “We can try to, can’t we? I know I want to... Don’t you feel the same?”
(Is there anything he could want more? If there was a wish he could make selfishly for his own happiness, is this not what he would have wished for?)
“I just believe,” Lucifer continues, clenching his fists, “that it is in our best interest if we ended things now before either of us gets hurt."
“Lucifer--”
"You will die," he says plainly, "and I never will." He looks at you and your face is pained. "You know that."
(To open his heart up to someone again and love someone unconditionally, without abandon-- a mortal nonetheless-- Lucifer has never understood Lilith more or been more afraid. There will never be enough time to love you, just as there was nothing he could do to change that.
How similar are you to Lilith, anyhow? You are not her-- not even remotely alike in any way. And Lucifer does not love you the way he loved his late sister. But it turns out that you are similar to her in the only ways that matters: you will die and Lucifer will lose you.)
You whisper his name like it is a lifeline.
But his mouth is dry and the words come from his mouth like blades on his tongue. “I can’t do it.”
(You will never understand the loneliness of watching the people you love die over and over and leave you. Perhaps you understand that; love him enough to know some parts of him that he still has a hard time understanding. Lucifer loves you, but he will never be able to be there when you need him most-- he is not brave enough.
So he must let you go.
Why does it seem that in every step he takes to protect himself and those he loves, he ends up hurting them anyways?)
“Okay,” you say, your voice barely a whisper. Lucifer watches you close your eyes and press your hands against your tears. You open your mouth in a wordless cry. “Let’s break up.”
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fabulousarminsimp · 3 years
Text
Name of love || Bertholdt x reader || Okay... This one will be sentimental. So prepare your tissue box. *sigh* ---------------------------------------------------- The world you always been so happy and proud of were shattered in this dreadful day. The day where chaos came for the 2nd time. Once, your world was so bright and so colorful with love, light, and hope. Now... all of those life you had before shattered into pieces with the truth of this chaos. He promised to show you the truth and finally revealed it on this day. The promise was he will show you who he truly is... The one who caused the destruction in Shiganshina – Colossal Titan. You thought he was just faking it because he’s a great storyteller. But, a great storyteller has a story that intertwines with his life that was never a fake. He apologized to you before this happened. He never wish to hurt you and the life with you before was a genuine escape from the dark mask he always wore. He felt free when he revealed the truth to you... but of course, at a cost. Here you are, standing right on top of the roof, gazing up at the wall where the smoke and the Colossal Titan showed. The titan kicked the gate open – letting mindless titans crawled into the district and wreaked havoc as well as deaths. The terror happened again and he showed it to you his true self. You believed him now... and your feelings conflicted. There was nothing you could do but stare. Even as your comrades shook you to wake, your mind was at a blank state. You don’t remember what transpire after he kicked the gate open, but remember you woke up reunited with everyone on one roof... including him. “{F/N}...” Bertholdt kneel down in front of you. You look up to him with hopelessness and tear stricken face. His face was pained when he saw you like this -confused and in fear. He saw your lips quiver and squeak his name in a stutter. All he could do was embrace you gently, whispering profusely “I’m sorry...” over and over to calm you down. “Is she alright, Bert?” Reiner walked over to him hugging you in a blank state. Bertholdt shook his head lightly. “Give me time, Reiner... Please.” Reiner stares at him with stoic face for a moment before turning around – eyeing him before completely walking away, heading towards Annie. Bertholdt stays there, still holding you gently with firm arms. He then lean closer to your ear and whisper “{F/N}, there is one chance where we can be free from this... I want you to trust me on this.”. You listen to him with half collected mind. Deep down you are still so madly in love with him, you couldn’t say no. Part of you still wish what transpired was a dream... All you could do was cling to him and give him the trust completely. Thus, you responded by grasping his jacket tightly with claws digging through to scratch his back. “I swear i’ll take care of you. Whatever it takes to be with you, i’ll gladly betray my fellow warriors... Neither of us deserve this... Even if i wish to come back home with them... I never thought finding you could change me this way... So, please listen closely...” he whispered. “There is only one chance we can be together... We’ll escape this place and find somewhere else to live. We’ll have to cross a sea of titans, but believe me... I’ll protect you. Whatever it takes...” “B-Bert...” you finally squeaked, “Tell me... is this a dream...?”. Bertholdt wanted to say no, but he doesn’t want to hurt the already pained you. “It’s a dream...” he lied, “But in this dream, we can be together the way we want... Free.”. Your eyes lit up from the answer and found the strength to pull away... and look him in the eye with glimmering hope. “Let’s build a future together...” you told him with sobbing voice. He forced a smile whilst gently wiping the tears from your face. “Let’s see the world and be free... Just the two of us...” “Yeah.” he nodded,
“Let’s make that happen.”. “Promise...?” “Not just promise.” he shook his head, “I vow and will definitely realize that. You’ll know it.”. You smiled back, then press your head to his chest. He stroke your hair in reassurance. He was planning on escaping and betraying Reiner and Annie. This was his plan all along. All the ideals he was taught from his homeland contradicts in this world. He no longer wish to live in the darkness that shadows his mind. He doesn’t want to become some tool for the benefit of those who hated this kind of world. He wishes to live like a normal person. Even if it cost the family’s life beyond the sea... At the very least, he saw the light of what the world suppose to be. In the name of love, he changed his path. ---------------------------------------------------- << Several days later >> You and Bertholdt survived the chaos in Trost. Most of your comrades you know did survive... but some didn’t. Your mind and sense return to your body, thus allowing you to think clearly for several days after. You chose to become a scout in the Survey Corps so you and Bertholdt could realize this plan to escape the world and live freely somewhere else. The only chance to escape was during the expedition. Bertholdt secretly planned rations and equipment necessary for the long travel, while you tried befriend the seniors so you could study the expedition formation. For several days, both of you worked under their noses (including Bertholdt under Reiner’s nose all along), conveying each other’s reports under the guise of ‘going out for a date’. They never suspect a thing... Not even Reiner who was always suspicious of Bertholdt’s behavior towards you. On the day before the expedition, you and Bertholdt took a day off and stroll to the outskirts with a basket for picnic. It was sweet moment, but serious at the same time. Both of you found a place perfect for a picnic, and thus began to relay the plans for the escape. “Here is the formation.” you showed him the plan you drew on the notebook, “Your position is right on the far edge while i’m right behind you. Perfect vantage for you to signal me whenever the time is right.”. He nodded with serious expression. “The only chance we have is when we encounter titans. I hate to say this, but... it’ll cost the seniors and comrades in the formation.” he explained. You pursed your lips – feeling guilty that you have to sacrifice lives for own selfish good. He saw your expression and patted your shoulder for reassurance. “I’ll find another way around. Maybe i can persuade the seniors to come to you for supply reasons.” “They might get suspicious, but... i don’t think there’s another way to evade them.” you told him. “I’ll have to fight to survive, but... i don’t know...” “Then run.” he responded, “All you need to do is run with your horse. Titans won’t catch up to you as long as you focus on escaping.”. “You mean... When titans come, i have to run and let the others be a distraction?” you asked and his eyes immediately went wide. “...I guess i don’t have any other choice...” Seeing you so quiet and anxious – compared to your quirky and bubbly self before – saddened him. Maybe once both of you finally escaped and found the perfect place, your mood will uplift. “This world is cruel no matter how you try to look at it... But i want to make that chance happen. Even if this plan fails, i still want to be with you. Only you...” he then held your hand and press it gently with his palm. You always feel reassured whenever his giant hand held you so gently. “Let’s make this happen!” you told him, “We’ve come this far. I don’t want to lose hope just yet!”. He nodded with a smile, “Definitely! We’ll make this happen for sure.”. Together you pressed your temple to his. The warmth and sense of hope surging into each other’s soul – making you believe that this plan will surely be a
reality. In the name of love, this future will be in our hands. ---------------------------------------------------- << The expedition >> The expedition was commenced. Commander Erwin shout the ‘forward’, thus leading his soldiers towards the field of swarming titans. So far, there are no titans in sight. But your heart is pounding so hard, it fills your entire body with anxiety. The vast open field that was supposed to be relaxing to see, only made it more eerie to gaze at. The horrific green... yet it challenges you to obtain your future with Bertholdt through this plan. In this expedition, you managed to bring half of the long travel supplies under the guise of medical equipment. None of the seniors nor your comrades suspects anything about the supply bag that rests on your horse’s back. After all, you are assigned as a medic in this expedition. “Titans sighted!” one of your senior shouted, “{L/N}! Fire the signal!”. “Y-Yes, ma’am!” You immediately grab your flare pistol, put in the round and shoots it up to the air. After the flare shot, you watched the titan eyed your team with that mindless hungry look, to which instills fear in you. Deep down, you prayed for Bertholdt to come... but he won’t be running here as fast like a lightning bolt for sure... “It’s targeting us! Prepare for combat!” “Junior! Keep your eye on the formation! We’ll handle this one and regroup once we’re done! Don’t forget to avoid abnormals!” “But, sir!” you tried to protest, but the two seniors had jumped from their horses. You are left alone to continue the road. The two seniors began to fight against the titan and swiftly cuts through the tendons with teamwork. It was surprising to see them in action as you ride your horse within the course. However, the amazing sight soon changed when a titan that walks on four appeared out of nowhere – cutting through the teamwork and obliterated the seniors within seconds. “No...! No, no, no, no, no!!” You slammed your feet to the horse’s belly – encouraging him to run faster as the titan noticed you. Even on top of the horse, you could feel the giant thumping rushing closer, and closer, then the shadow looms over you. “BERTHOLDT!!” you screamed from the top of your lungs, calling his name to rescue you. The thumping stops, but the shadow grew darker. You look back and saw the titan was in mid leap. It’s jaw open with dripping saliva... Only seconds left and your life is gone. But time stops as you watched the titan lunged towards you. You felt suffocated in the slow motion. Heart beats painfully slow as you saw the angel of death is beckoning right in front of you... ... ... ... “Rrraaaaaaaaaaaaagh!!” Time seemingly move in a blitzing pace. Once, you saw the dark angel looming over you, but now you see red droplets flew as the nape was cut by someone none other than your savior. You turn your gaze up and saw him in mid air – blade glisten by the dawn light and spread like an angel itself. He finally arrived... ... *THUMP!!* “Gyaaah!!” The titan fell jaw first right to your horse’s back leg and send you leap forward, then roll multiple times on the ground. Your gear fallen apart and scattered around upon impact, but luckily you got off with a bruise and cut. “{F/N}!!” Bertholdt rushed to you. He knelt and slides to reach you. “Are you alright?! {F/N}, talk to me!” he panicked and you groan in response. You lift your head and he quickly grabs you up. “B-Bert... Gghh...!” “I’m here for you – hang in there!” “You... finally came... *sob*” His panicked face eased when you gripped his sleeve and began to cry. The anxiety, the fear, the looming death was enough to bring all your courage to zero. That one second before death reaped all your hopes away... but it all regained when he arrived just in
time to the rescue. “It’s alright... You’re safe now...” he hugged you tightly – comforting you from the fear. “But we don’t have time to rest. We must leave before the titans swarms us.” Even though you still need time to cope, what he said was true. There’s no time for comfort as long both of you are in the red zone of swarming titans. Thus, you nodded with head hung low, and then he let you go and went to check on your horse. He saw the horse managed to get himself free from the dead titan. However, due to being struck on the leg, the horse is limping. There’s nothing he can do to the horse except take the supply bag and left it alone. Titans doesn’t chase horses so he can live free. “{F/N}, can you stand?” he asks. You lift your head – showing him your tear stricken face – then nods lightly. “I need you to do me a favor and don your gears. I’ll handle the supply bag and horse.” he instructed. “Okay... *sniffle*” With exhaustion and trembling body, you lift yourself up and jog to collect your gear. While you do that, he goes to your horse – grab the things needed before taking off the saddle and bridle to set the horse free. He then transferred the supply bag over to his horse after whistling him to approach. By the time he is in the middle of transferring the bag, you already donned your gear and test it out. “H-Huh...?! It’s not working...!” no matter how you press your grip, the hooks won’t shoot. “B-Bert, the hooks are broken...!” you told him in a panic. He spun and rush to you. Then, checks on your gear and saw that the fan was heavily dented. “It’s a no go...” he implies. “W-What are we gonna do...?! Without the gear, i can’t fight...!” “Leave it then.” “W-What?!” Without saying anything, Bertholdt took off your gears. “Wait! Bert, you can’t!” you tried to protest, but he doesn’t listen. He managed to take off all your gears and drag you to his horse. “Bert! Please, i can’t fight without it!” “Don’t worry!” he firmly told you, “Don’t worry...” his voice changed afterwards. “Bert...” “I’ll protect you. No matter what.” “But, what if there’s a swarm them?” you asked him – concerned if he fights an entire swarm alone. But, he turn to you with a gentle smile like he always show you whenever he wants you to trust him. A smile like the early dawn with soft breeze soothingly blowing from the horizon. “Everything’s gonna be alright... I swear. We’ll make it through this. Since i have the power, i can take them all in one blow, remember?” he assured you. He has the Colossal Titan powers to which the transformation could blow an entire land wipe clean. However, it comes at a risk of being known by those who are searching for them. Still, he would use it at dire times... and he honestly will protect you no matter what. “Come on. Get up on the horse.” he lean down and puts his hands together to help you up the horse. Without any words needed to be said, you put one foot to his hand and he lift you up so you can reach to the horse. After you are settled, he goes up and sat behind you – protecting you from any sort of danger. Both of you are ready to leave, but before he could do so, he spun towards the east and gaze the distance. His eyes glimmer with sorrow as he watch the sun slowly rising up to the sky. It is a farewell to the world he was born, grown and learn, then dove to the place he never expected to become. He is reborn as a new person, and now he’s on a mission for the greatest escape he had mustered. “Annie... Reiner... I’m sorry. Goodbye.” He said his goodbyes, then rode the horse with you towards the south. There is no going back now. Both of you decided to leave and challenge the extreme for an uncertain future. But, no matter what happens, in the name of love... he will be by your side. Always. Goodbye world. Our lined up silhouettes extends, but won’t meet. The wish and the
light I was searching for the scenery that i have not seen yet... The vast valley that was once supposed to be fearful and sorrow, now to you it gives you a sense of hope underneath the dust and sparse grass. There is always a light of hope within darkness when you look at it the right way. Could this be the right path you suppose to choose? There is no guarantee. However, you feel guaranteed by giving him your complete trust and heart knowing he will choose you over anything that he once stood up for. He was fed up by living in a lie. No more he will be forced to fake a smile when his heart says other. He sacrificed so much that it’s worth fighting for now. It was all because of you who woke him from a dream. A dream of which it was called a false world full of war and accusations. No longer he will be led and be toyed around... He took the courage, and now he is a free man. “Bert?” you call to him. “Yes?” You grip his hand and he switch sides so he’s the one who holds your hand. “Now that we set on this path... there’s no guarantee what will happen in the future as we go.” you told him. “I know...” “But, i know something now... I think everyone deserves a chance of life. Deserve a choice to choose. Even though we don’t know what the future holds, i want to cherish the time i have with you.” “I feel the same, {F/N}.” he pursed his lips – holding in the emotions inside him from welling up his eyes. His attempt to holding it in, however, was met with trembling voice. “We made the world into our enemy... We don’t know what will happen to us next, but...” Let’s make one promise “Promise that you will stay by my side till the end. I will do the same...” Bertholdt lips were quivering and the tears had fallen by now. Every emotions he had held from way before up till now, overflows like the river struck by the storm. “I p-promise. I’ll stay by your side... forever.” You heard his trembling voice and the droplets of his tear falling to your head, made you silently cry. “We will find a true place for us... We’ll meet again... Fall in love again... over and over...” you told him. Let’s call each other’s name that only belong to us Let's share the joys that only mean something to us Let’s make sure that our words meant only makes sense to us Let’s embrace each other’s pain that only we can feel If we can meet again in the future wherever in this world Please don’t forget About the truth and me
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hysterialevi · 3 years
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Eitr | Chapter 11
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Fanfic summary: In an alternate universe where the Raven Clan is wiped out, Sigurd ends up being rescued by the son of a Saxon ealdorman, and is tasked with being the boy’s new bodyguard. Upon meeting the boy’s father however, Sigurd soon realizes that the ealdorman is responsible for his clan’s destruction, and secretly plans for revenge while hiding behind the guise of a Norse pagan turned Christian.
Point of view: third-person
Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male OC
Author’s note: Hoo boy, this one’s a long one! Hope you like it!
This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter
THE NEXT DAY
FORANGAL CASTLE, THE DUNGEONS
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
That was all Sigurd could hear as he sat alone in his cell, watching droplets of water trickle down from the ceiling. 
It was dead silent in this part of the castle, despite the havoc Algar had wreaked, and even though there was a hurricane of commotion whirling around upstairs, the stone walls of the dungeon had completely blocked off the outside world, trapping the Sigurd in a pit of blackness.
There was hardly even any light in here. The only reason the viking hadn’t entirely lost his sense of sight just yet was due to a distant torch flickering in the nearby corridor, which sent a very faint glow seeping into his cell.
Pillars of darkness could be seen fanning out from where the iron bars stood, and in the absence of any other prisoners, Sigurd was suddenly beginning to realize how horrified he truly was.
He had no idea if he’d even live to see the end of this week. For all he knew, he could’ve already been living his final moments in this world. Based on the way the guards were speaking, it sounded like Aegenwulf was planning to pass judgement on him today, and he had no doubts that Algar would do everything in his power to influence the ealdorman.
As for Edric... Sigurd hadn’t heard from him yet. No one in the castle had paid him a visit ever since his arrest, and Gjuki remained to be unseen.
Hell, he didn’t even know if the bard was still alive. It was no secret that Aegenwulf despised the Danes, and considering the fact that his housecarl was the one steering this whole ship, it was most-likely that Gjuki had already been killed.
Sigurd just wished he knew what the man was doing before he got caught. Did he actually manage to find Algar’s crypt? Did he learn something about him that he shouldn’t have? How did he get captured in the first place?
He supposed it was too late to receive an answer for any of these questions now. Their entire plan had been ruined because of one simple mistake, and now, Sigurd was just starting to come to terms with the fact that he was probably never going to see Eivor again.
In spite of all his effort to reunite with his brother and bring the people behind Ravensthorpe to justice, everything they had worked for was now falling apart. 
Such was the way of war. They could fight for as long as they wanted to, but sometimes, the battle was just never meant to be won.
It was what fate intended, and now, Sigurd was beginning to realize that.
“--My lord,” the guard standing outside suddenly said, “you’re not supposed to be here.”
The visitor ignored the man’s statement, focusing entirely on the task at hand.
“Where’s Sigurd?” He asked. “He’s in there, isn’t he? Let me in. I need to speak with him.”
“Lord Edric, please,” the guard repeated. “Your father has given me strict orders not to let anyone through. That includes you. I can’t let you see him.”
Still, the young man persisted. “He’s my friend. I won’t just leave him in there. I only need a moment. Then I’ll leave.”
The guard held a hand up. “The ealdorman will be livid if he learns I’ve granted anyone entry.”
“Then I’ll take the blame,” Edric insisted. “Just let me talk to him. Please. All I ask is a few minutes. I won’t be any trouble.”
The other man stuttered out of hesitance. “I... I don’t know, my lord.”
“I understand your reluctance,” the nobleman replied, “but this could be the last chance I’ll ever get to see Sigurd. You’re the one guarding him. You must know what he’s done. It’s most-likely my father will execute him immediately. Please. Just give me a few moments to speak with him. I’ll tell the ealdorman it wasn’t your fault.”
The guard sighed in defeat, finally giving in to Edric’s pleas. “...V-Very well, my lord. You may see him. But for both our sakes, make it quick. Algar will have my balls on a spit if he learns what I’ve done. And I don’t fancy facing Aegenwulf’s wrath either.”
Edric gave him a reassuring nod. “No harm will come to you. I promise. Thank you.”
Stepping off to the side, the guard opened the door behind him with a metallic screech and removed himself from the entrance, allowing the nobleman to walk in.
As for Sigurd, the man was dreading having to face Edric after everything that happened. He knew the Saxon already had his doubts about the vikings due to the whole incident with Gareth, but now that he had betrayed the boy’s trust after spending weeks just to earn it, he didn’t know what on earth he was going to say.
How was he going to explain all this to the man? Would he even believe the truth? What would happen to him after today’s events? 
There was no telling how Edric would react to the things Sigurd had on his mind, but if their relationship these past few weeks was anything to go by, he hoped that the man would at least be willing to hear him out. 
He was the last ally Sigurd had within these walls, and if the viking couldn’t convince him to give him another chance, then there was no hope for him at all.
“Sigurd?” Edric said quietly, approaching the cell. “There you are. Algar told me you were down here, but I wanted to see it for myself.” He gripped one of the bars, trying to get a better view of the viking. “...What the hell is going on? Are you alright?”
Sigurd remained seated on the floor, unable to even look him in the eye.
“I thought you already knew. Did Algar not say anything?”
The young man scowled. “Oh, he said plenty, but I didn’t believe a word of it. You know how that man is. His lips twist anything that comes out of them. He claimed you were a traitor, and said that you were planning to assault the castle behind our backs. But... surely that can’t be true.”
A tinge of doubt gripped Edric’s voice. “...Can it?”
Sigurd closed his eyes in shame, sighing deeply out of regret.
“Despite... certain reservations I held about the plan, yes. I’m afraid it’s true. Algar has lied to you about many things, but this is not one of them.”
The nobleman fell completely silent at the answer, totally taken aback by the confession. A sense of betrayal had grown in his lost gaze, and in the emptiness that followed Sigurd’s unexpected response, the viking could practically hear Edric’s brow furrowing.
“You mean... you really were going to attack the fortress? Even after all this? Y-You actually...”
The Saxon took a moment to gather his thoughts, bewildered by this turn of events.
“But why, Sigurd? Why would you do that? I know not everyone here has given you the respect you deserve, but... we saved you. We nursed you back to health. We gave you a place to stay. We...” Edric paused briefly, trying to keep himself together, “...I thought there was something between us.”
Sigurd glanced up at him, his tone heavy with remorse. “I care for you Edric, but this had nothing to do with you. This was solely between me and your father.”
The young man tilted his head in confusion. “My father? What are you talking about? What’s going on? What isn’t he telling me?”
The viking steadily rose from the floor, his figure moving like a shadow in the night.
“When we first met,” Sigurd explained, “you asked me what happened to my clan; why I was traveling alone. I told you they were all killed.”
“Yes, I remember.” Edric replied. “Was that a lie?”
Sigurd shook his head. “No, but I didn’t tell you the full truth either. The reality is... Algar was responsible for wiping them out. And your father gave the order.”
Edric tightened his grip on the bar, reluctant to believe what he was hearing. 
“...What? No. Surely, you’re mistaken. What reason would my father have to attack you like that? What could he have against your clan? Why would he do something so extreme?” A sudden thought crossed his mind, causing a dark sense of suspicion to cloud his eyes. “...Who are you, exactly?”
Sigurd peered at Edric through the darkness, finally deciding to come clean about everything.
“Your people call me Lone Wolf,” he said, “but my real name is Sigurd Styrbjornson. I am the son of a Norse king, and the jarl of the Raven Clan. I originally come from a place called Ravensthorpe, but was forced into these lands after Algar launched an ambush on our village. That is how I ended up on your shores.”
The Saxon’s voice fell to a shaky whisper. “W-Wait. The Raven Clan? You mean... your people killed Gareth? You were the ones who took him away from me...? Why... why would you...?”
Sigurd grasped Edric’s hand through the bars, eager to clear his name.
“No, Edric. It wasn’t us.”
The man scoffed bitterly. “You honestly expect me to believe that after everything you’ve just told me? You admitted to plotting revenge behind our backs, and now you’re claiming that you had nothing to do with Gareth’s death? How do I know you speak the truth? What reason do I have to trust you anymore?”
Sigurd shook the bar in his grip. “I was the jarl, Edric. Nothing happened in our clan without me knowing. If we really killed your brother, I would’ve heard of it. But I swear to you... I knew nothing about Gareth until I met you. My clan had no quarrel with your family. We had no reason to go after him.”
The nobleman sighed in frustration. “Well, if not you, then who?”
The viking stammered. “I... I don’t know, Edric. Truly. I’m doing my best to find out, but Algar stopped me before I could make anymore progress.”
That piqued Edric’s interest. “You mean... you actually had a lead?”
Sigurd nodded. “Yes. Well, my ally did. His name is Gjuki. He was helping me investigate the assault on Ravensthorpe, and ended up discovering that Algar had a secret crypt hidden somewhere. He spent this past week just trying to find it... and my gut tells me he learned something. Something that could ruin Algar completely.”
“You don’t know what it was, though?”
“No. Algar seized me before we could venture any further. He trapped me in the woods outside of Forangal last night, and Gjuki was already long gone by the time I arrived. Now, I’m not even certain if the man still lives.”
Edric let out a deep breath in response to the explanation and hung his head low, unsure of whom to believe. 
He trusted his father with his life, and saw no reason for Aegenwulf to keep secrets from him... but there was a strange type of sincerity in Sigurd’s voice that led him to wonder if he was telling the truth.
After all, it didn’t take a genius to see that Algar was far from what most people would consider to be an honorable man. He clung onto the ealdorman’s ear like a serpent in the Garden of Eden, and carried an ominous shadow to him that always made it feel like he was hiding behind some sort of pretense.
It wasn’t that difficult to assume that Algar was overseeing a covert operation behind Aegenwulf’s back. Edric thought it was rather clear that the man always had his own agenda, and if Sigurd truly did have an idea as to what was going on with Gareth’s death, he wondered if, perhaps, it was worth giving the viking a second chance.
The only problem was -- he doubted Aegenwulf would feel the same way.
“O-Okay, Sigurd...” Edric finally said, his tone still sharp with conflict, “I... I believe you.”
The other man’s eyes widened in surprise. “You do?”
“I think so. Lord knows it’s going to take me some time to wrap my head around all this, but I’d trust you over Algar any day. There is one issue, though.”
Sigurd shrugged. “What is it?”
“I’m not the ealdorman.” Edric replied plainly. “My word means next to nothing in the court. I may have been able to save you once, but normally, the only people my father listens to are Bishop Hundwerth and Algar himself -- neither of which are very fond of you. There’s also the fact that Thegn Raedan will be joining us as well. So even if I try to sway the trial today, I’m not sure what influence I’ll have.”
“You must try,” the Norseman insisted. “If there’s one person who can shift Aegenwulf’s mind, it’s you.”
The Saxon remained unconvinced. “Perhaps. Though, I fear my father’s mind is not always his own these days. He is often controlled by grief, and with Algar at his side, that grief can turn into spite. I’ll... I’ll do what I can to save you, Sigurd, but...”
Edric’s stern expression cracked under the weight of his final words, revealing the vulnerability hiding beneath. “...I can’t guarantee that you’ll make it out alive.”
The viking reflected his friend’s sullen mood, forcing himself to accept that today could have been his last. “...I understand, Edric. I know the odds are stacked against me here. But in spite of what may occur in the future, I appreciate your support.”
The young man seemed to relax somewhat upon hearing that. “I’m glad. I wish it didn’t have to end this way, but... for what it’s worth, I’m grateful that we could at least have this final conversation together.”
Edric’s eyes lit up with affection. “Oh, and Sigurd? In case my efforts to change the ealdorman’s mind don’t work...” He leaned closer to the bars, caressing Sigurd’s cheek through the gap. “Thank you. For everything.”
Without any hesitation, the Saxon placed a loving kiss on the viking’s lips and held him close, trying to hide the fact that he was devastated inside. Even though Edric knew there was a small chance of him ever seeing Sigurd again, he couldn’t fight against the part of him that was slowly falling for the man.
Sigurd was the only one who knew his secret; the only one who still accepted him for it. He had been there for him every step of the way, and treated him with compassion in spite of the hostility thrown against him.
He was the one blessing that Edric never even knew he needed, and now... the nobleman had to let him go.
“...I-I’m sorry,” Edric suddenly apologized, breaking the kiss. “I shouldn’t have done that. You’ve made it quite clear that you don’t want to take this any further, and I just--”
Sigurd shook his head. “Don’t be. I may have distanced myself from you in the past, but the truth is, I’ve always felt the same way. My only regret is that I didn’t act on it sooner.”
The nobleman nodded in agreement. “Aye. Who knows, in an ideal world, perhaps we could’ve thrived from a relationship such as this.”
Sigurd’s face dimmed with heartache. “But not in this one.”
“...Not in this one.” Edric repeated.
Stepping away from the cell, the Saxon perked his head up towards the ceiling when he heard a mob of muffled arguments cluttering in the throne room, signaling the start of the trial. 
“Forgive me,” Edric said, “but I’m afraid I must leave you now. My father doesn’t know I’m here, and I’d rather not have Algar discover the subject of our conversation.”
“Go do what you must. I shall see you in the throne room later.”
“And God willing, after the trial as well. If not...” the nobleman cleared his throat, attempting to keep his composure, “...then it was a pleasure to know you, Sigurd. We may not meet again after this, but I promise, I’ll carry on the investigation in your stead. Both you and my brother deserve justice, and I’ll do anything I can to deliver it. Until then...” Edric turned on his heel, reluctantly making his way out of the dungeon, “...may your gods protect you.”
~~~~~~~~~~
A WHILE LATER
THE THRONE ROOM
Slipping through the large crowd that was gathering in the throne room, Edlynne took her place amongst the other nobles as they awaited Sigurd’s arrival, anxious to see what the ealdorman had in mind for him.
At the moment, Aegenwulf was currently sitting in his throne with Hundwerth and Algar at his side, followed by Thegn Raedan who was spectating the trial from the lower levels of the hall.
As for the rest of his family, they too were attending the trial, and were silently standing by as the guards prepared for the judgement.
Edric, on the other hand, didn’t look nearly as eager as his fellow noblemen. A look of panic had plastered itself onto his face, and with Sigurd’s life hanging so loosely by a thread, he was honestly terrified of how this day could unfold.
With the Lord’s blessing, everyone’s heads would still be attached to their shoulders when the trial was done. If not, he dreaded to see what would come next.
“I can’t believe it...” Joseph murmured, “Sigurd, a bloody jarl. And the son of a king, too. I never would have guessed.”
Edlynne shared her brother’s shock. “Indeed. It frightens me to imagine what could’ve happened to him before he washed up on our shores. I always assumed it was a simple conflict that had been bred by this war, but if Sigurd truly is a prince, then it must have been something grievous to target a man of his standing.”
The boy let out a groan. “I don’t even want to think about the political chaos this will sow. The Danes aren’t just going to ignore the fact that we’re holding one of their jarls prisoner. For everyone’s sake, I pray to God that father spares him. Otherwise, we’ll be doomed.”
Edlynne gazed at the floor, knotting her hands together out of nervousness. “...Do you think this is my fault?”
The question took Joseph by surprise. “What? What are you on about? How could this be your fault?”
The girl recalled their time in Agenbury. “I was the one who insisted that we bring Sigurd back to Forangal. I wanted to help him, and yet... I’m wondering if I just made things worse. Had he survived his wounds, Sigurd could’ve simply left Wedenscire. He could’ve gone home. He could’ve been free. But now, he’s bound to the service of an ealdorman, and waiting to meet his demise... all because I couldn’t walk away.”
Joseph looked his sister in the eye, quick to defend her. “You can’t blame yourself for this, Edlynne. I know Sigurd doesn’t.”
“But what if he’s just hiding that from me? What if he doesn’t have the heart to tell me that this is my doing?”
The boy put a firm hand on her shoulder. “Listen to me, Edlynne. Even if your actions may have led to this, you did what you did out of compassion. You saved Sigurd because you didn’t want to let an innocent man die. No one can fault you for that.”
Edlynne let out a sigh. “...Perhaps you’re right. Still, I can’t shake the feeling that if I left this whole matter alone, things would’ve turned out for the better. Sigurd’s here because of me, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to bear it if he dies today.” 
She pushed her thoughts aside for the moment, returning to the trial at hand. “I suppose it’s too late for regrets now. What happens to Sigurd is up to father... and I can only pray that he’ll see the good in him just like I do.”
Bringing their conversation to a halt, one of the guards standing at the entrance suddenly bellowed over all the commotion in the throne room, announcing the arrival of their infamous prisoner.
“My lord, Ealdorman Aegenwulf!” He called out, causing everyone to go completely silent. “...We bring you Sigurd Styrbjornson.”
Stepping off to the side, the guard returned to his post as a pair of Algar’s men came marching down the center, weaving their way through the middle of enormous crowd that had gathered in the hall.
In their arms, Aegenwulf saw none other than Sigurd himself being dragged along in chains, his head drooping low in despondency. His body was littered with bruises and scars that he had received from Algar’s brutal arrest the previous night, and much like the first time they met, he was dressed in nothing but a ragged set of trousers, exposed for all the world to see.
It was a satisfying change of pace to greet the man like this, Aegenwulf thought. Despite the pain he still cradled inside his heart for his late son, he couldn’t deny that he felt a wave of relief washing over him now that he had the Raven Clan’s jarl in his grasp.
Without even realizing it, he had captured the man responsible for Gareth’s death, and prepared him for the judgement that was long overdue. The people guilty of taking his eldest child away from him would finally face punishment, and Aegenwulf would at last find the peace he had fought so hard to maintain.
It was an event he wished on no parent out there, but one that he had dreamt of for countless nights.
“Sigurd. Styrbjornson.” The ealdorman said firmly, watching as the guards plopped the Norseman down on the floor. “Nearly two months have passed since your people erased my son from this world, and yet, even after all the effort I’ve put into ensuring that such an event never repeats itself -- I find the very jarl of the clan responsible on my own doorstep. God certainly has a unique sense of humor, wouldn’t you agree?”
Aegenwulf traced the ornament on the throne’s armrest, throwing a glare at the viking. “Well, in spite of all the havoc you’ve wreaked, I can promise you this. Your judgement will be as lethal as it will be swift. You may have managed to evade the consequences of your identity for a few weeks now, but no more. Your deception ends today.”
The Saxon rose from his seat, declaring his decided punishment for the prisoner.
“Sigurd Styrbjornson, I hereby charge you with treason. There is evidence that you sought aid from the enemy, and plotted an assault behind our backs. You concealed your true nature from us, and even had the gall to feign innocence in subjects pertaining to Gareth’s murder. As punishment, you are to have your head cut off immediately after this trial. Your body will promptly be disposed of, and your head will be displayed on a pike.”
Edric felt his heart skip at the announcement, causing him to step forward from the crowd.
“Father! Wait!” He blurted out.
Aegenwulf jolted his head towards him, quirking a brow out of curiosity. “Edric? You have something to add, my son?”
“...I-I do.” The young man replied. “If I may speak?”
The ealdorman gave him a permissive nod. “Carry on.”
Edric took a deep breath, admittedly frightened to see the reaction Aegenwulf would have to his pleas.
“I realize you have no reason to trust him, father. But I know Sigurd. I know he’s a good man. He doesn’t deserve death.”
Bishop Hundwerth almost laughed at the statement. “Doesn’t deserve death? Have you taken leave of your senses, Lord Edric? This man would have launched an assault on the castle given enough time, and you wish to pardon him?”
Edric grew more adamant in his temperament. “He lied to us, yes, but he only did so in order to survive.”
“Sigurd already had everything he required under our care. We gave him food, shelter, clothes, arms, weapons. What more could one need?”
“Safety.” The young man countered. “Ever since Sigurd first arrived at Forangal, he has been met with nothing but contempt. Our people have treated him as an outsider -- and even worse -- a slave. He has been abused, humiliated, and ostracized time and time again. With such a precarious sense of security, is it any wonder that he felt the need to plan an escape? We may have given Sigurd a place to lay his head, but what good is that when you constantly need to sleep with one eye open?”
Aegenwulf listened to his son’s words intently. “So, what do you propose we do then?”
Edric hesitated for a moment. “...Give him a second chance. But this time, regard him as an equal.”
Hundwerth scoffed. “An equal...!”
“Let him stay within our walls,” the nobleman continued, raising his voice slightly, “but instead of treating him with scorn and suspicion, treat him with the same respect we would offer to any fellow Saxon. Perhaps then, Sigurd will see no need to arm himself with lies.”
Still, the bishop pushed back against him. “This is preposterous! This heathen would have seen us dead if offered the chance, and your solution is to reward him with even more liberty? What kind of message will this send to the Danes in Wedenscire? That they may do and say as they please without any consequence? No. We must remind them who the authority is in these lands.”
Aegenwulf nodded in agreement. “The bishop raises a fair point, Edric. After all the crimes Sigurd has committed, why should I grant him the privilege of roaming our halls as an equal?”
“Because you will never earn someone’s true loyalty if you keep them in chains. Sigurd is a man of honor, but even he won’t fight for someone who always has their boot on his neck.”
The ealdorman turned to Algar, interested to hear his opinion. “...And you, Algar? What are your thoughts on this?”
The housecarl’s stance was rather obvious. “I say it’s not worth the risk, my lord. We should kill him now and be done with it. He’s already taken advantage of our hospitality once. What’s to prevent him from doing it again?”
“Another valid point to consider.” Aegenwulf remarked.
Edric gazed apologetically at Sigurd upon hearing the ealdorman’s response, unsure of what else he could do to save him. He had already attempted to reason with his father multiple times, but with every argument he made to deter Aegenwulf’s train of thought, it only seemed that two others were thrown back at him.
It was evident that the majority of the court shared a certain distrust for the Norseman, and in the absence of anyone else to support him in his claims, the young lord had no idea how he was going to pull Sigurd out of this mess.
He was heavily outnumbered in this trial, and it didn’t look like there was much chance of him winning over the crowd.
...Thankfully, he wasn’t alone.
“Ealdorman Aegenwulf,” Raedan suddenly called, stepping out into the open. “If I may add my own thoughts?”
Aegenwulf found himself intrigued. “Speak your mind, Thegn Raedan.”
The grizzled man rested a hand on the hilt of his sword, pacing around the hall.
“...I believe there is merit to what your son says.”
“Is that so?”
“Aye.” Raedan answered, coming to a stop. “Sigurd is a jarl, my lord. And a prince on top of that. You and I know better than anyone how strong the Northmen’s sense of honor is. They are bound by it. If we execute one of their own without giving him the chance to defend himself, or the chance to enter Valhalla... it will not bode well with the Danes in this shire.”
He paused for a second, allowing his words to sink in. “Perhaps, for now, the best course of action would be to spare him. If we permit Sigurd to live among us as an equal, it will prove to the Danes that coexistence is possible. Tensions are high enough as it is here. Sigurd’s death would accomplish nothing except starting a war that we are not equipped to win. I say we let him live.”
Aegenwulf wasn’t fully convinced just yet. “And what assurance do we have that he won’t repeat his actions? He has just been caught consorting with the enemy, and you wish for me to loosen his chains? What guarantee is there that he won’t abuse his freedom?”
A solemn expression spread across Raedan’s face. “I mean no disrespect, ealdorman, but I’ve witnessed Sigurd’s behavior firsthand. He is capable of being civil. If he has treated anyone here with hostility, it’s most-likely because they deserved it. Don’t give him a reason to fight, and he won’t. It’s as simple as that. No man chooses to live in shackles.”
The ealdorman let out a deep sigh and lowered himself into the throne once again, furrowing his brow in thought. He wanted nothing more than to bring Gareth’s killers to justice, but he could not deny that Raedan had a point.
The political situation in Wedenscire was unstable, to say the least. Every single day, his scouts reported altercations between the Saxons and the Danes, and if Sigurd were to die here in their home, he imagined it would spark a fire that they could not afford to put out.
On the other hand, though... how much was he willing to risk? How many chances would Aegenwulf grant Sigurd before finally sending the man to be judged before God? He had already been foolish enough to spare him once, and he did not wish to see the damage that would be dealt if Sigurd betrayed him a second time.
Still... maybe there was an alternate solution to all this. Aegenwulf had no intentions of letting Sigurd entirely off the hook, but he wondered if some sort of compromise could be made in the stead of an execution.
He did not wish to endanger the safety of his people, after all. And he imagined Gareth wouldn’t have wanted that either.
“Perhaps... there is another way forward.” Aegenwulf pondered aloud, earning an alarmed look from Algar.
The ealdorman turned to his guardsmen, giving them a simple command. “Guards! Bring out the bard.”
Sigurd perked his head up at that, uncertain of whether or not he misheard the man.
Did he just say “bard?”
...Was Gjuki alive?
Approaching the center of the throne room with Gjuki in tow, Aegenwulf’s guards hurled the battered Dane to the floor and left him to writhe on the stone, watching idly as the man wheezed in pain.
Meanwhile, the nobles of the court gasped in unison upon seeing the mutilated prisoner and began murmuring quietly amongst themselves, admittedly perturbed by the injuries he sustained. 
It was no secret that Algar treated his prisoners with severe cruelty, but even then, they couldn’t hide their shock. Gjuki’s current condition bordered on inhumane, and frankly, Sigurd shared the Saxons’ horror.
He could hardly recognize the man anymore.
Gjuki’s hair had been cut short as an act of humiliation, his feet had been burned on the soles, two of his fingers had been removed, and on his back, Sigurd spotted the fresh lacerations of a flogging.
His face was stained with the trails of dried tears, and in the fear that clouded his eyes, Sigurd found nothing but fragments of the man he once knew.
He had been completely broken. Algar had obliterated Gjuki’s spirit, and reduced the man to nothing but a hollow shell.
The only thing that confused Sigurd... was why the housecarl bothered keeping him alive.
“...I’m sorry, Sigurd...” Gjuki whispered weakly. “...They... caught me...”
The other man examined his flesh, frightened to the core. “Gods above, Gjuki... what did Algar do to you?”
But the bard didn’t respond. Instead, he simply remained on the floor and silently awaited Aegenwulf’s next move, doing his best to stay conscious as the ealdorman revealed his solution.
“Guards,” Aegenwulf ordered, “lend them your blades, and free Sigurd of his binds.”
Exchanging glances with one another, the soldiers at Gjuki’s side hesitated for a second before unsheathing their weapons and sliding them across the floor, ensuring that both of them were armed.
Meanwhile, another guard approached Sigurd from behind and unlocked the chains biting into his wrist, allowing him to escape their sharp clutch.
“You wish to prove your allegiance to me, Sigurd?” Aegenwulf questioned. “Then I give you this task: kill Gjuki in my name, and yours shall be cleared.”
Edric spoke up once again, feeling the urge to intervene. “Father, please. This is not the way--”
“--Enough, Edric.” The ealdorman snapped back, tired of his son’s protests. “I have indulged you enough for one day. You asked that I spare Sigurd’s life, and now I am giving him the chance to save it. Do not push your luck.”
The boy backed down reluctantly, clearly upset with his father’s methods. “...As you wish, father.”
Bringing his attention back to Sigurd, Aegenwulf leaned forward in his throne and gestured to the swords, signaling him to do as he was commanded.
“Go on, then, Lone Wolf. If you are truly as loyal as my son claims, then this should be no problem for you. Otherwise, two heads will roll today.”
Sigurd glanced at the weapon, unwilling to go through with the task. “Ealdorman, with all due respect, I... I don’t think I...”
“It’s either this or death,” Aegenwulf stated plainly. “I am offering you a way out. I suggest you use it. The choice is yours.”
Freezing out of desperation, the Norseman gazed hopelessly at Gjuki’s frail body and hovered his hand above the sword’s hilt, incredibly torn by the impossible dilemma.
There was no honor in killing a man who had already been beaten. Thanks to Algar’s harsh treatment, Gjuki was now at a point where he could barely even walk, and the fact that he had become a friend of Sigurd’s over these past few weeks certainly didn’t help make matters easier.
He felt nothing but shame at the thought of killing Gjuki in exchange for his own life, but... what about Eivor? That man was counting on him to return. Surely, giving up both of their lives now would be a waste.
Well, regardless of what happened, Sigurd had to admit that he was concerned about Aegenwulf’s morality. He always assumed that the ealdorman was more rational than Algar, but now... he wondered if he should’ve just let Eivor do whatever he wished. There were men and women of honor residing at Forangal, but sadly, none of them were the ones in power.
A force of true reckoning would have to strike Aegenwulf if they ever hoped to make a change, and after witnessing today’s events, Sigurd didn’t plan on dying before that happened.
He only hoped Eivor would be able to forgive him.
Reaching for the blade, Sigurd finally decided to comply with the ealdorman’s orders and took the weapon into his grasp, steadily rising from the floor.
In the meantime, a shaky breath escaped Gjuki’s lips in response to the action, and the bard gazed at him with a pitied stare.
“...Oh, Sigurd,” he lamented in defeat, “...they’ve finally gotten to you...”
The jarl clenched his jaw out of sorrow. “I’m sorry, Gjuki.”
The man nodded empathetically. “...We do what we must to survive. You... you have a brother to return to. I understand. I would do the same for Valdis. ...And I have.”
Gjuki extended an arm out, grabbing onto the sword. “...Very well, then. Let us fight to the death, drengr. But I will not die empty-handed.”
He forced himself up from the ground and slowly rose to his feet, wincing in agony as blood trickled from his wounds. He was already halfway to death in his current state, but it was quite clear to Sigurd that the man had no intentions of surrendering.
He may have been a slave at one point, but he had a warrior’s heart just like any other Dane. There was a fire in him that refused to be put out, and even Algar hadn’t been able to stifle it.
Gjuki brandished his blade, whispering one final phrase. “Til Valhöll.”
Limping towards Sigurd, the bard weakly raised his sword and brought it down in a firm strike, only to collapse to the floor when the weight of the iron threw him off balance.
His opponent had a wide window to land the killing blow as a result of the attack, and yet, despite what was at stake, Sigurd couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he merely stood by and waited for Gjuki to recover, wishing desperately that this was all just some bad dream.
“Fight me, Lone Wolf...!” The bard barked, picking up on Sigurd’s hesitance. “Don’t let me go to Helheim.”
Leaning on his sword for support, Gjuki stood up from the floor once again and lunged at his opponent a second time, swinging the weapon at Sigurd’s chest. Just like before however, the blade cut through nothing except thin air and left him stumbling forward, allowing the other man to throw a punch at him.
Gjuki fell to the ground and landed on his knees, trembling from the pain that was now throbbing in his bones. He barely had enough strength to hold onto his sword anymore, and yet, he refused to give up. He knew what awaited him on the other side, and the last thing Gjuki wanted was for the half-rotten goddess to enslave his soul.
And so, with one final attack, the man let out a rough battlecry and whirled around in a frenzy, attempting to plant the sword into Sigurd’s neck.
Just before the blade could make contact though, the other man swiftly swerved out of the way and gripped Gjuki by the shoulder, pausing for a minute before ultimately driving his own sword through the bard’s abdomen.
The two of them immediately came to a halt, freezing in each other’s embrace.
“...G-Gjuki?” Sigurd murmured in disbelief, still in the midst of processing what he’d just done.
The Dane returned his words with an empty stare, rendered completely silent by the finalizing sensation that was now overtaking him. There was a blankness in his eyes that made it look as if part of him had already transcended to the Corpse Hall, and with each passing second, Sigurd could feel his heartbeat dwindling more and more.
Before Gjuki could go to greet the Valkyries however, he leaned into the jarl’s ear and whispered one last thing, finally revealing what he had discovered in Algar’s secret crypt.
“...The Order... of the Ancients...” he unveiled. “He’s... one of them. The... Colossus.”
Unable to hold on any longer, Gjuki’s body fell limp in Sigurd’s arms as the life drained from him at last, leaving nothing but an empty corpse in its wake. 
Meanwhile, the other man found himself at a loss for words and simply stayed in place, utterly bewildered by what just happened. He felt as if the world around him had suddenly stopped turning, and in the deafening silence that followed Gjuki’s death, he heard the echoes of everything the bard said to him in the past, forcing him to come face-to-face with a blood-boiling revelation.
Algar... was with The Order. He was one of the people Basim and Hytham had been targeting. He was at the heart of all this.
But why go after the Raven Clan? Why go after Sigurd? What was it about them that was so troublesome that the Order felt the need to intervene? Did they know they had Hidden Ones walking among them? Or was there something else going on?
Sigurd didn’t know what to believe anymore. Within a single day, his entire life had been flipped upside-down, and his moral compass had been shifted towards a direction he never expected to follow. He was stained with the blood of a fellow Dane, and armed with the weapon of a Saxon.
He had been forced to slay one of his own allies in the name of survival, and now, Sigurd couldn’t help but question if Gjuki had been right all along. In the past, he refused to believe that he was being indoctrinated, but after today’s events, he wondered if he was even in control of his own mind.
What sort of monster killed his own people? What on earth had he become? Did he even remember who he was anymore?
Snapping out of his thoughts, Sigurd finally removed the sword from Gjuki’s chest and let him collapse to the floor, admittedly still in shock.
Everywhere around him, he saw people gaping at him in fear and whispering in hushed tones, undeniably terrified of what was going to happen after this. Not only were they afraid of the conflict that would arise from such a mess, they were also scared to see their ealdorman’s sanity deteriorating so rapidly.
Despite his stern nature, Aegenwulf had never done anything like this before. His judgements were typically as firm as they were fair, but now... it was clear that Algar had corrupted his mind beyond redemption. His grief had been twisted into malice, and the death of his son served as no more than the seeds to an even greater war.
Well, unlike before, Sigurd wasn’t willing to back down from this one. He didn’t care how long it would take, or how hard he’d have to fight. He was going to ensure that Algar fell to his blade, and that his order never claimed any innocent lives again. He was just starting to scratch the surface with the information Gjuki had given him, and now, he only prayed that Eivor’s army would arrive in time.
The Gods were calling for blood to be spilled, and Sigurd was more than willing to deliver. No matter the cost.
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xxbyimm · 4 years
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The knight and the princess - Fíli x reader - Modern AU
Link to my Masterlist.
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This was a prompt I originally received from @saviorsong​ yesterday: next-door neighbor trope with the line ‘That won’t work, Try again’. As I wrote down most of this in bed last night, this piece expanded from a short drabble into a short fic of more or less 1500 words. I don’t know what happened and I don’t regret it. As I try to be less brutal about the level of perfection my work has to achieve to be worthy, I try to NOT edit my oneshots endlessly. So bear with me on that, and I hope y’all enjoy.
The knight and the princess - Fíli x Reader
Summary: Friday night. The reader tries to set up her new surround sound system, but it turns out to be harder than expected. Luckily friday night also means her favorite next-door neighbor comes over. MODERN AU.
Warnings: Fluff, bit of cursing.
Taglist: @soradragon​ @pistachiozombie​ @legolaslovely​ @tomisbaeholland​ @swoopswishsward​ @fizzyxcustard​ @deepestfirefun​ @ruthoakenshield​ @mariannetora​ @thequeenoferebor​  If you don’t wish to be tagged anymore, please let me know! Or if you’re not on the list and want to be tagged: check out my lists and I’d like to hear which list you want in on!
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It shouldn’t be this hard. Literally anyone could do it. At least, that was what the people at the store had told you. And the delivery girl. Even the helpdesk guy had told you the same, though he even had the nerves to inquire ‘if you had read the instruction manual’.
Of course you did! You weren’t stupid, you were an grown-ass woman -damn it- and you could take care of yourself.
‘It’s not hard, ma’am.’ The guy repeated for the zillionth time. ‘Just put the red cable-’ ‘And I told you there is NO RED CABLE!’ you hissed back, exasperated by the fact that this person refused to listen. ‘There has to be.’ He mumbled. ‘Because otherwise you won’t be able to connect the tv with the left box.’ ’Okay, you know what…’ you grumbled. ‘I think this doesn’t get me any further than it already did.’ ‘But have you checked the package the system came in?’ You let out a strangled groan. ‘Of course I checked it!’ ‘You sure?’ the guy pressed. ‘Because more than often, our clients-’
You ended the call, just before you would have battered those poor worker’s ears with the most vile curses in the English vocabulary. It wasn’t his fault, you knew that. He probably had to stick to a protocol anyway and you were too impatient to follow such bureaucratic nonsense. But still, he wasn’t the proud owner of a surround sound system that was nowhere to near to be connected with the rest of your setup.
You heaved a sigh and eyed the chaos around you. There were cables everywhere and the manual lay crumpled on the couch. Six sound boxes were scattered across the room, waiting patiently to be put in their new place. Oh, and you weren’t even talking about all of the packaging it had arrived in! Ugh. You were ready to give up, even if it meant you couldn’t enjoy your favorite movie with some proper sound effects tonight. Whatever that meant anyway. This hadn’t been your idea.
Defeated, you strolled towards the kitchen. The least you could do, was reward yourself with a glass of wine. You opened the fridge and nearly jumped when someone knocked on the kitchen window. When you quickly turned your head to see who was disturbing you, your eyes met the dreamy blue ones of your next-door neighbor, Fíli. He was holding a bottle of wine and winked at you. His golden locks radiated in the sun and for a moment, you once again appreciated how handsome the bastard was. He obviously liked to take care of himself, as his blonde, shoulder length hair was almost more soft than yours and his beard was trimmed into perfection. Normally you weren’t into mustache braids, but the way this guy sported those made your legs weak. Fíli was wearing a simple, blue t-shirt with a V-neck that showed off some of his chest hair. You sincerely hoped that he had not paired it with his favorite jeans, because otherwise you’d spent all night gawking that fine ass.
‘Hey, Y/N!’ Fíli called, his eyes twinkling mischievously. ‘You’re going to let me stand here all night?’ You smiled and moved to the door to let him in. Because of all the hassle, you almost had forgotten it was Friday night. A few months ago, when you were new in this neighborhood, Fíli had swung by to say hello. In hindsight, you had lost your heart that night on your doorstep, though you had denied it for months after. It wasn’t a coincidence that the two of you had developed a habit of spending Friday nights together, since both of you highly enjoyed each other’s company over going out in search of love. In addition, Fíli was one hell of a chef in his spare time.
‘How are you faring, love?’ Fíli inquired while kissing your cheek. ‘How was work?’ ‘Ah. It was fine.’ You replied, closing the fridge and reaching for your fancy wine glasses in the cabinet. ‘My boss was a total pain in the ass, though that’s nothing new.’ Fíli smirked. ‘What’s the old toad up to now?’ A giggle escaped you and you shot him a glance. ‘You know you can’t call her that! What if I say that while at work? She will have my head!’ ‘Ah, but then all you have to do is to call upon your knight to save you.’ He told you while opening the bottle and pouring some wine. ‘I have a knight?’ you wondered. ‘Why hasn’t he informed me yet? I would spare me loads of trouble.’ Fíli shrugged, his eyes flashing briefly over your face. ‘Maybe he’s been a coward and doesn’t know how to show it’s him.’ ‘Selfish bastard.’ You muttered, too engrossed in the red liquid pouring into your glass to notice. ‘Anyway, no matter. I don’t need a knight.’ ‘Not even in shiny armor?’ ‘No.’ You groaned. The last guy you had gone on a date with a few months ago, had those ridiculous old-fashioned standards that you possibly couldn’t and wouldn’t meet. Naturally, the date had been a disaster when you straight up told him you refused to settle for a ‘woman’s place is in the kitchen’ kind of relationship.
Fíli took a sip and leaned against the counter. ‘I don’t get why the women get the knights, and us men have to settle for the princesses.’ ‘You want a knight, eh?’ you grinned, grateful for the fact that your friend hadn’t noticed you mentally had visited the dreadful topic of your dating life. ‘Exactly.’ He nodded vigorously. ‘Someone who can battle dragons, command legions.’ ‘And take over the world?’ you filled in. ‘Bend every civilization to your will?’ Fíli laughed and lazily moved towards the living room. His blue eyes burned through yours and you bit your lip. ‘Those are your words, milady, not mine.’ He purred as he disappeared in the hallway.
You winced when you discovered that he was, in fact, wearing his (and your) favorite pair of jeans. Damn that fine ass!
‘I said I wanted a knight.’ Fíli went on, obliviously to your appreciative glances. ‘A knight, Y/N, not a- Mahal’s hairy balls! What happened here?’
Oh Mahal’s hairy balls indeed. You had forgotten about the ground zero in your living room. You turned the corner. Fíli was eyeing the chaos with an amused smirk. ‘Is that the surround sound system I recommended to you?’ he asked. ‘Yeah.’ You said. ‘But I wasn’t finished just yet. I merely went to the kitchen to get myself some wine.’ ‘Finished with what?!’ Fíli grinned. ‘Wreaking havoc?’ ‘Oh, you ass! I was getting there!’ ‘Yeah?’ Fíli gestured at the pile of cables on the carpet. ‘That won’t work. Try again.’ ‘Hmmm.’ You mused while draining your wine in one go and putting the glass aside. ‘If I do that, I will lose my sanity. The helpdesk guy said it was easy, but I beg to differ.’ ‘You even called the helpdesk?’ Fíli chuckled as he grabbed the manual from the couch. ‘You must have been quite desperate.’ ‘I wanted to do this by myself!’ you said fiercely. ‘And I know I can, it’s just…’ ‘It’s not that complicated, once you know what to do.’ Fíli told you. ‘Shall I walk you through it?’ You narrowed your eyes. ‘Are you going to make fun of me in the process?’ He laughed. ‘Maybe a little. But in the end you’re a bloody amazing person and I’m sure you can do anything, if you set your mind to it.’ ‘Don’t mock me.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m not. You’re the proverbial whole package, and I don’t mean that in a patronizing way.’ You lifted a brow. ‘Then in what way?’ He took a step closer. His wineglass still holding in one hand, he gently stroked your cheek with the other. A fond smile was displayed on his face. ‘In a brilliant, I rather spend my free nights with you than going out, because what I want is right there, way.’ Your cheeks were on fire and you lowered your gaze. Your teeth sunk in your lower lip and slowly turned into a mumbling, flushed mess. ‘What? But I’m-’ ‘Y/N.’ Fíli whispered and a soft thud informed you he put his glass on the floor. You didn’t dare to look up, because you knew this moment would turn out to be a) a dream, or b) a cruel joke. So instead, your gaze was fixed on the carpet.
‘Y/N.’ Two sturdy hands cupped your cheeks and gently tilted your head. A pair of dreamy blue eyes came into view and your heart skipped a beat. ‘You have asked me countless times why I had zero interest in dating.’ Fíli began with a faint smile. ‘Now let me answer that one for you: from the moment we met, I haven’t been interested in any other woman, but you.’ ‘Why didn’t you say so?’ you managed to blurt out. ‘Because you’re quite independent.’ Fíli confessed. ‘And it’s one of the things I like that about you.’ ‘Independent doesn’t mean-’ ‘I know that.’ He told you. ‘But I wanted to make sure that you and I match in all the right ways, rather dragging out our worst qualities like some couples tend to do.’ ‘Oh Fíli… Why would you think that?’ ‘I just...’ He heaved a sigh. ‘Fell in love with the wrong person one time, I suppose. After that you get careful.’ You pulled him against you and placed a gentle kiss on his jaw. ‘Sounds like you’re in need of a knight.’ Fíli chuckled. ‘And a damn brave one, I daresay.’ ‘That settles it. I am forever in your service, good sir.’ You grinned. ‘Do you happen to know a princess with technical proficiency?’ Fíli laughed and you reveled in the sound. ‘Oh, Y/N.’ he murmured, his lips ghosting over yours.
And then he kissed you.
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Thank you so much for reading my humble story. Feedback is always welcome.  Did you like my work? Spread the love and reblog! :) And here’s my Masterlist.
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oldshrewsburyian · 4 years
Note
Remember Me, Sam and Andrew Foyle either during the war (aircraft Crash/Bombing maybe) or post canon. Anything you please... either fluffy funny or 'shreds my heart and glues it together again.
Well, er... what happened was that I ended up responding to this prompt late at night and emboldened by vodka. I nabbed half a premise from James Hilton and ended up with... a series 6 canon-divergent scenario that is, in fic parlance, crack, and more specifically, something that would not be out of place in 1940s melodrama. Look, I’ve watched far too many 1940s melodramas. This turned into a 1k effusion, so I’ve put most of it below the cut. (Ask thing here.)
*
Sam is late for her work at the Ministry. She stands on the pavement with what feels like half the population of London, elbows tucked into her sides, umbrella held obstinately aloft, hat brim drawn down. She squints miserably through the curtain of rain that had descended so suddenly, wreaking havoc on already unreliable bus schedules. Sam sniffs. She picks her feet up out of the wet, one after the other, trying to keep her shoes from getting sodden. She will not be able to replace them this winter.
The accident happens on the other side of the street. Sam hears it before she sees anything: the almost-musical protest of brakes, the sudden shouting of too many people, the belated blaring of a horn.
“He fell — he was pushed — there was a woman — should never have taken the corner that fast — ” The crowd around her is full of comment. Sam winces, and holds very still while the policeman at the intersection blows his whistle. With sobering swiftness, the morning moves on. The pedestrians are allowed to cross. Motor traffic navigates carefully around the taxi whose driver stands beside it, twisting his cap in his hands. Sam catches her breath before starting across the road. Her father’s response to accidents had always been the same, whether  they were paragraphs in the paper, incidents in the street, or wireless bulletins about the other side of the world. Dear me, those poor people. Let us say a prayer. Sam gives a careful berth to the men who are forming a stretcher-hold. Dear me, she thinks, that poor man. I must say a prayer. And then she sees his face.
Sam continues crossing; she has no desire to waken the ire of her fellow Londoners. Then, when she has reached the pavement, she turns around and marches back across the street. Mud splashes over her shoes.
She is very aware of her own pulse, the blood rushing in her ears, her heart unruly in her chest. The Ministry seems a very distant duty. She follows the little procession into the chemist’s shop. As the bell jangles after her, she realizes that she has no plan for what she is going to say.
“We’re closed,” says the chemist.
“It weren’t my fault,” says the taxi driver to the policeman.
“There’s been an accident,” intones the policeman discouragingly, with a glance in her direction.
“It’s all right,” says Sam, clutching her handbag in both hands. “I know him.”
There is a moment’s uncertain pause, and then the policeman and driver resume their tense colloquy, while the chemist turns back to his work. Sam sidles closer to the little group, her eyes on the man recumbent in the chair, who is so alarmingly still and pale.
“Easy,” says the chemist, holding sal volatile a few inches from his patient’s face. “You’ve had a shock.”
“Stepped right in front of me,” says the driver, half-wailing.
“Knocked down in the street,” says the chemist soothingly. “But no appearance of serious injury, I’m happy to say.”
“I…” says Andrew, and then his eyes meet hers. “Sam, thank God!”
She ignores the driver and the policeman; she ignores the chemist; she ignores the fact that her handbag will collect dust on the floor and that she’s probably torn a stocking in going to her knees. She puts out her hand, and Andrew grips it. Sam is very conscious of the movement of his thumb over her knuckles, the seam of her glove that is giving way, the wedding ring that sits cold against her finger.
“Wasn’t sure you’d recognize me,” says Sam softly. She is very conscious of having aged since she first knew him, of being an anxious housewife in a shabby coat, a very different person from the girl who drove and mended cars and fearlessly teased an RAF pilot.
“Know you anywhere,” says Andrew, sounding impossibly fond. His eyes seem too large in his face.
“Are you sure he’s all right?” demands Sam.
“As I can be.” The chemist is regarding them both with an indulgent eye. “How are you feeling, sir?”
“I…” says Andrew, still looking at Sam. “I had an unlucky knock, I expect. Head aches. I’ve had worse.”
Oh, Andrew, thinks Sam.
“It weren’t my fault,” says the driver again.
“Yes, all right,” says Andrew, before the policeman can interpose; “I’m sure he’s right. I’ll be all right in a minute.” As if to assure the assembled company of this, he sits up, begins to stretch and brush off his sleeves. And then he stops. “Sam,” says Andrew, suddenly very earnest, “why am I in civvies?”
She can feel the blood drain from her face, even before she feels the silence in the chemist’s shop change. Outside, the rain still beats against the windows. Sam moistens her lips, and swallows. “Andrew,” she says very quietly, “the war’s over. It’s 1946.”
“Oh,” says Andrew, a little blankly. “Oh, that’s… well, we clearly aren’t living under the Nazi yoke, so that’s all right.” No one laughs. “Look,” says Andrew, “I’m sure that’ll come right, I was just…”
“Are you quite sure of yourself, sir?” asks the policeman gently.
“Oh, far too sure of myself,” says Andrew, with false briskness. “Just ask her.” Sam blinks away tears. “Andrew Foyle, sometime poet, sometime pilot, ex-student, future something-or-other.”
“In the City,” whispers Sam.
“Ah,” says Andrew. “Eminently plausible. You see, she’ll have me right in no time. We haven’t got two adorable children that I’ve inexcusably forgotten, by any chance?”
Sam drops his hand and scrambles to her feet, as though that would help her confront this astonishing suggestion. “No.” The word emerges almost soundlessly.
“Ah,” says Andrew again, and something in his tone makes her think that he is, as usual, seeing far too much in her face. “Tactless of me. Look — ” he stands up, and sways only slightly on his feet — “we’ll go, and I’ll make my apologies, and we’ll have tea and buns, and she’ll forgive me far too quickly because she always does, and I promise on my honor that I will trot dutifully round to Harley Street if I haven’t recovered complete awareness of the date and year by this time tomorrow morning. All right?”
“If you say so, sir,” says the policeman. “Madam.” The chemist, still frowning, hands Andrew an attaché case that shows evidence of its recent acquaintance with a London gutter.
“Hm,” says Andrew, taking it. “Lends an air of artistic verisimilitude to an otherwise bald and unconvincing narrative.”
Well, thinks Sam, it can’t be so bad as all that, not if he’s quoting The Mikado. Because she knows he will not ask for her support, she goes to his side and slips her arm firmly through his.
“That’s better,” says Andrew. He smiles down at her, and Sam thinks it is unfair, that he should still look at her like that. “Marvelous feeling of security. Sam, that is a truly unfortunate umbrella; is it the only one we have? Well, never mind, come along. Don’t worry, gentlemen,” he says, and Sam’s heart skips at the dreadful familiarity of Andrew being airy and brave and still transparent to her. “Omnia vincit amor. And the rain’s letting up.”
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makeste · 4 years
Text
BnHA Chapter 261: Wakey Wakey
Previously on BnHA: The heroes decided that the only way to beat the villains was with an insane winner-takes-all gambit involving two simultaneous attacks, one on the Pliff base in Gunga Mountain, and the other on a quaint little hospital in Jakku that just so happens to be where Ujiko is keeping his Noumuraki in cold storage along with all his other evil science junk. We still don’t know what the fuck is going on in Gunga, but over in Jakku things are shockingly not really going according to plan! First Ujiko was stabbed by a Noumu space slug and melted away into nothing because HE’S A FAAAAAAAKE. Then a bunch of other Noumu came running out of the morgue to distract everyone while the real Ujiko scuttled about his lab in a panic in his lab and literally called the heroes “THOSE MEDDLESOME HEROES” because he is literally a cartoon villain, only with the evilness cranked up to 11. Thankfully before he could warp away and escape, Miruko, a.k.a. the queen of this entire arc, busted down the door and crushed John-chan like a bug (RIP JOHN-CHAN) and took hold of my heart and was all “THIS IS MINE NOW” and I was like “okay” and now she’s gonna kick Ujiko’s ass????! Or so we can hope anyway?
Today on BnHA: Well Miruko almost kicks Ujiko’s ass, and he almost doesn’t manage to punch in the activation code for his High End Noumus, and we almost manage to be spared the chaotic scene where they all come to life and wreak havoc. But unfortunately “almost” is as close as we get, mainly because every single other character decides to hang back in the hospital entrance fighting a bunch of nobodies rather than bothering to help Miruko out. Everyone that is, except Crust, who provides some assistance by (a) not mentioning to anyone how there’s a whole other tunnel that leads out of the lab and goes DIRECTLY OUTSIDE TO WHERE MY CHILDREN PRESUMABLY ARE, and (b) arriving at the lab and then not really doing anything else at all except shouting a bit. So apparently this is what we’re working with. Thankfully Miruko is somehow still alive, because it looks like she’s about to have to fight these guys pretty much on her own. Unfortunately Ujiko takes advantage of all the chaos to abscond the fuck out of there. And so the chapter leaves off with one of those “record scratch, freeze frame, yep that’s me you’re probably wondering how I ended up in this situation” moments. Fun times.
so Ujiko got a new name last week; he is now Garaki Kyuudai. you can read all about the meaning of the name on Caleb’s twitter if you feel so inclined. so we are now moving on, and we’ll see how many times I forget this new name and have to go back and look it up (ETA: at least twice so far)
so hopefully today will be the day when we finally discover just how and why everything is going to go terribly wrong, because it’s getting stressful bracing myself for that shoe to drop every damn week. if you’re going to put my kids in terrible danger than GO AHEAD AND PUT THEM IN DANGER ALREADY THEN. please. I can’t go on like this
holy shit you guys
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see, now this is the kind of fanservice I can get behind. too bad I can’t really focus on that at all right now because
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well then. it’s only the thing I’ve been simultaneously anticipating and dreading ever since the start of the My Villain Academia arc! don’t mind me guys. I’m just gonna. sit here nearly frozen but also kind of vibrating/pulsing ever so slightly
OH NO MIRUKO WHAT DID YOU DO
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holy shit you guys. I RECOGNIZE THAT BIG BLACK DOOR FROM BACK IN MY KHR DAYS. ONLY BACK THEN IT WASN’T A DOOR AT ALL, BUT A WALL. A GLORIOUS AND TERRIBLE WALL WHICH SINGLEHANDEDLY BROUGHT ONE OF THE STRONGEST CHARACTERS TO HIS KNEES DURING A DO-OR-DIE “HEROES INVADE THE VILLAINS’ LAIR” ARC VERY MUCH LIKE THIS. oh my god. and now he has returned, after all these years, to once again fuck up the heroes’ plans at a critical and devastating moment. curse you wall
also did we really need to see this
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Horikoshi: “you know what I haven’t drawn yet that I’d really like to draw. brains. just some brains splattered around all messily. children love that almost as much as they love dead dogs”
ffsdsdlfkjl YOU KNOW WHAT WE ALSO DIDN’T NEED TO SEE, HOLY CHRIST
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A FLASHBACK TO UJIKO “COMFORTING” A BLOODIED JOHN-CHAN AFTER A SUCCESSFUL TEST RUN OF HIS NOUMU CAPABILITIES, OR WHATEVER THE HELL THIS IS. DID YOU GUYS ASK FOR THIS? I SURE AS HELL DIDN’T. I HAVE NO REAL WAY OF KNOWING THIS FOR SURE, BUT I’M GONNA GO OUT ON A LIMB AND SAY THAT ABSOLUTELY NO ONE WANTED TO SEE THIS. LIKE, I CAN’T SAY THAT WITH CERTAINTY, BUT ACTUALLY I CAN THOUGH
ugh. anyway. “just Noumu Arc things,” Horikoshi says with a shrug. listen you son of a --
meanwhile if Ujiko gets all angry and tearfully sics all of the High Ends on Miruko in his rage, I will... actually I’ll sit here not being even remotely surprised at all, but still freaking out though. damn it, this is why I need that freaking shoe to drop already like I said. that thing is just sitting there like a loose snack in a malfunctioning vending machine and I’m standing here cursing and thumping on the glass and asking if anybody has a quarter
GODDAMMIT I DON’T NEED TO HEAR HIS FUCKING EULOGY FOR HIS PET MONSTER WHICH USED TO BE AN INNOCENT LITTLE CHILD UNTIL HE MAIMED AND TORTURED THE HUMANITY OUT OF IT
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is that freaking All for One in the top right panel. YOU’RE ON MY SHITLIST TOO MISTER
looooooooool :’)
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lol I think we finally got that shoe loose folks. sob. go ahead and activate them you crusty old fuck
also are these things in the little tubes... quirks??? like what the hell
so now Ujiko’s screaming (I guess if he’s upset we can take that as a good sign?), and meanwhile Miruko is all
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still smiling even now. god how I love her. “I’LL FIND OUT IF I KICK HIM” GOD MIRUKO WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL MY LIFE. IS THERE SUCH A THING AS A FEMALE HIMBO. LIKE WITH LESS PEJORATIVE CONNOTATIONS THAN THE ORIGINAL “BIMBO” AND WITH MORE OF A “SOMEONE WHO’S REALLY HOT AND COULD CRUSH YOU WITH HER PINKY AND IS ALSO A FEW ICE BRICKS SHORT OF AN IGLOO” KIND OF VIBE TO IT. HERBO??? OR WHAT ABOUT... SHIMBO
anyway Endeavor is all “catch him” which is some great fucking advice coming from someone that hasn’t even made it inside the morgue entrance yet. what fucking good are you. at least he fried the space slug
but unfortunately that hasn’t quite solved all their problems yet
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honestly though, he should still go after her. like, screw all the rest of this. get your priorities in order!! she just said there were a ton of REALLY STRONG-LOOKING!! Noumus over there too, and meanwhile she’s the only one there because none of these other dinguses seem to realize that if you want to stop the fucking Noumus you need to stop the guy in charge. otherwise they’ll just keep on coming!!
you know what, forget what I implied a couple paragraphs ago about Miruko being a few twists short of a slinky. she may have a straightforward “hit first and ask questions later” approach to things, but it’s increasingly clear that she’s still in possession of this team’s one shared brain cell right now
(ETA: the more that I think about this the madder I get. I count at least seven heroes in this shot. you’re telling me you couldn’t spare a single one??)
ooh we’re cutting to Mandalay!
she says the last of the civilians have just been evacuated from the hospital! I don’t know why she’s yelling this to them out loud and not thinking it at them like in the forest arc but whatever. the evacuation part got me thinking about the kids and now I desperately want to see how they’re doing but first we have to wait for this High End situation to finish spiraling out of control I guess
-- holy shit holy shit holy shit
okay so this guy, who was the closest behind Miruko -- I forget who he is but I remember he was one of the top ten... goddammit let me look it up... okay yeah, he’s Crust, the number six hero, whose quirk I don’t think we know yet -- anyway so he’s running down the corridor and, well...
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first of all he says hmmm way too much. but more importantly he just confirmed that at least one of these corridors leads directly outside. without passing through the hospital at all. implying that the Noumus can bypass the squad of heroes entirely and escape to rampage out on the mountainside
so the one job that the heroes had today, which was to make sure that none of the villains escaped, has already proven a failure. there are Noumus outside. and who else is outside in the mountains of Jakku right now, you guys? EXACTLY
meanwhile this fucking boomer hasn’t even bothered to say this part out loud so that the other heroes can hear and realize that there are potentially escaped Noumus on the lam! like it would be nice to maybe mention that so that they know their plan has sprung a leak and also so that Endeavor can WARN HIS FUCKING INTERNS JESUS CHRIST
anyway so Crust has stumbled upon a group of Noumus and is attacking them and still not revealing a thing to his pals, thanks so much!!!
and now Miruko is leaping at Ujiko so that means ladies and gentlemen it’s finally TIME FOR SOMETHING BAD TO HAPPEN!
WHY IS THIS TAKING A WHOLE FUCKING PAGE
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no fucking duh?? holy shit. he may be an evil genius but he’s really not that great at thinking on his feet
-- oh shit?!
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A WILD RAY OF HOPE APPEARS?? looooool are you serious? that must mean that they’re so fucking powerful the heroes wouldn’t stand a chance if they were activated. so despite all appearances, Horikoshi is actually not throwing them to the wolves just yet and there is still a thin layer of plot armor surrounding them!
--but what the hell IS HE TURNING THEM ON ANYWAY?!
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sob, he is. holy shit he’s gonna sic a High End on my wife and it’ll be the strongest fucking thing we’ve ever seen and meanwhile Ujiko will be watching all “hur hur it’s not even using 10% of its power” fucking fuck me
WHAT THE FUCK
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ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME THERE’S ANOTHER WARPING NOUMU JESUS
so he just left?? but turned the Noumus on first?? so now they have ten fucking hours before these things get strong enough to level the whole fucking planet are you shitting meeeee. and did he just leave Tomura there too or did he also warp him out?
wait a sec no he’s still there. lol what the fuck. so did Mocha-chan create a duplicate of him then and that’s what Miruko kicked?
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I’m so confused lmao
(ETA: still confused tbh. but we have bigger fish to fry!)
but anyway. this is what we came for though
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wakey wakey. hey can someone go slap Endeavor and all those other heroes for me for deciding it was more important to battle the “small fries” out in front rather than give Miruko some fucking backup so it wouldn’t be all on her to stop this shitclown from remote activating his unstoppable army of death? fucking Mic could have ended this whole show with one shouted “YODELAYHEEHOO~” down this echo-y corridor for fuck’s sake!! Aizawa could have stopped Mocha from using her quirk! god damn! I hope you’re all happy!!
LMAO HOLY FUCKING SHIT
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THAT’S THE SCARIEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN?! HAHAHA MY HEART IS GENUINELY RACING, I’M DEFAULTING TO MY “HAUNTED HOUSE LAUGHTER” INSTINCT IN WHICH I KEEP LAUGHING BECAUSE EVERYTHING IS TOO FUCKING TENSE AND I DON’T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO DO
LIKE, THE ONE NEARLY BIT HER FUCKING FACE OFF BEFORE SHE KICKED ITS BITEY HAND IN HALF, BUT MEANWHILE THE OTHER ONE IS TRYING TO GRAB HER ENTIRE HEAD WITH ITS MASSIVE FUCKING HAND ATTACHED TO AN ARM THAT’S LITERALLY AS LONG AS MIRUKO IS TALL, AND THAT HAND IS BIG ENOUGH THAT IF IT CLOSED ITS FIST HER HEAD WOULD LITERALLY POP LIKE A GRAPE HOLY SHIT?!?!
NO THANK YOU I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING BUT THAT’S ALL RIGHT I DON’T WANT IT TAKE IT BACK PLEASE
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oh thank fuck I think Miruko escaped?? or they just threw her into that wall, at least. well still better then getting your head crushed
and now these two are trying to talk because fuck me I forgot high ends can fucking talk
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“h...hero...” took me a second to figure out what they were saying there but damned if that didn’t send a chill down my spine!
also Miruko really did kick its hand right the fuck off, god I love her. even if it is instantly growing back
you guys I literally can’t stop laughing lol
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HAHAHA WE’RE SO FUCKED!?!
ALSO IS THAT ONE GUY CRIMSON RIOT?!!
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hmm lol maybe not. idk though he just gave me that vibe
LOOK HOW HAPPY THEY ALL ARE LOL
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THEY JUST WANT TO KILL THEM ALL THAT’S SO GREAT. THIS IS ALL SO WONDERFUL THEY KO’D MIRUKO IN 0.4 SECONDS AND NOW THEY WANT TO “GO BERSERK” WHAT A GRAND TIME WE’RE IN FOR
LMAO ARE YOU SERIOUS
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FUCKING CRUST OUT HERE LIKE TROY WITH THE PIZZA BOXES. DO YOU WANT TO JUST TURN THE FUCK AROUND RIGHT NOW BOY. NGL IF THEY RIP YOUR HEAD OFF I’M NOT EVEN GONNA DO ANYTHING EXCEPT ROLL MY EYES. WATCH HIM NOT SHOUT A WARNING TO THE OTHERS EVEN NOW
(ETA: I s2g though. hello?! is your headset broken???)
and he’s being greeted by this big guy with a gear head and a weird lumpy spine
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somehow at first I thought that first lump on his back was an “R” symbol because I’m bad at interpreting images, so now I want to call him Rusty because I’m also bad at coming up with nicknames on the spot. I’m sorry Rusty
anyway so Rusty and Crust are immediately getting into an argument and meanwhile Ujiko is just SITTING THERE BECAUSE HE CAN, NOW
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because Endeavor, Aizawa, Mic, and the others all decided it was more important to abandon their most important target in favor of trying to contain the comparatively harmless redshirt Noumus in the lobby. which is also pointless, because they’re not actually containing shit, because there are other exits besides for just the hospital! which they would fucking know if Crust was capable of relaying vital information instead of strategically saving his breath for more important things like sarcastically calling this Rusty guy “clever”
in conclusion the heroes have all picked the absolute worst time to collectively shit the bed and I’ve had it with them and they all need to retire, except for Miruko. and the kids. who are now soon to be directly in the line of fire thanks to this shitshow
LMAO HORIKOSHI YOU PIECE OF SHIT SOMEHOW I FUCKING KNEW YOU WERE GOING TO PICK THIS WEEK TO ANNOUNCE A BREAK YOU GLEEFUL LITTLE TROLL
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and two weeks from now is when I’ll finally be watching the new movie though, so I don’t even know how that’s gonna work lol. guess that’s why they put the extra day in February this year. ah well
anyway! so Miruko is still alive and more reminiscent of Katsuki now than ever, which is fucking great because Crust so far has been exactly as useful as you would expect some stupid old guy with the name “crust” to be, sigh. anyway I’m glad to see my girl’s spirits haven’t been dampened
meanwhile Ujiko straight up did leave Tomura there, which is interesting lol. and so now it looks to be Miruko and Crust (with the latter’s contribution extremely in doubt) versus Rusty, Jester, Max Rebo, Girl!Noumu, and Noumu!Riot. I’m strangely not worried for Miruko because I have decided that she’s invincible, and because Horikoshi has graciously nerfed these guys a bit (please accept my dripping-with-sarcasm “gee thanks”, Horikoshi)
but I am however worried about my three sons over on the edge of town who are about to be waylaid by god knows what. not to mention all my other kids 80km away! how will their day be ruined? we shall see!
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flamingo-writes · 5 years
Text
Setting Up The Prank — Corazon x Reader
Request by @attack-on-onepiece:  Not sure if this qualifies as fluff, but since you wanted something for Corazon ^_^. Could I ask for a scenario where Corazon and his s/o, who's also part of the crew, keep their relationship a secret from Doffy and co. But then one of Doffy’s men (your choice who) starts hitting on/flirting with her, like in a really creepy way with stalking and so on. So they decide to make it clear that they are taken.
Fluffvember Post
A/N: I swear to god, I’ll fling myself into the sun if I can’t post this on my 6th attempt. If you guys see this, then I’m okay, if not, I’m already crisping myself in the sun. Also, this turned longer than expected. 
Word Count: 1.6K
Warnings: swearing, stalking. 
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It didn't come as a surprise to anyone that you two eventually became close friends. Corazon, the clumsy man prone to accidents, always followed by the only one who can treat them. Whether if he was your second shadow, or you were his, people could not tell. You two were always together. 
Doffy once accidentally saw you two going at it. You on top of his brother rocking your hips back and forth, low grunts and soft escaping the passionate kiss you were sharing. 
However, he didn't think much of it at first. Thinking, maybe you two were dealing with some sort of dry spell, and dealing with it.
It wasn't until other occurrences in which he found you two asleep, cuddling next to each other. Bodies tangled in such a way that only lovers did. That's when he started suspecting about the affair Corazon and you kept secret from the rest of the family. 
Not that Doflamingo minded, he certainly did not care who his brother slept with, or whether he told him something or not. Yet, Doffy wanted to have his share of fun. 
One morning, Doflamingo was ready to wreak havoc and see the length Corazon would let things go before admitting your secret affair. 
"Hey, Trebol, look at that" Doflamingo gestured with his hand, his cup of coffee in his hand. "Don't you think [Name] looks particularly fine lately?" From the corner of his eye he could see how Corazon shot his eyes open, drinking from his coffee, no particular look in his eyes. 
"She does look sexy, doesn't she?" Trebol smirked, his usual gross smile reflecting the not so good thoughts he just had. 
At this, Corazon clenched his jaw, knowing the kind of dirty guy he was and hating that he was talking about you. 
Doflamingo noticed the way his brother's knuckles were turning white from how firmly he was holding his mug. 
"Doffy, you think she'd go out with me if I asked her out?" 
Several things happened within the seconds following Trebol's question. 
For starters, Doflamingo smirked, pleased with what Trebol had just said, thinking he didn't have to work his way there and instead Trebol did it on his own. 
Secondly, such question made Corazon almost choke on his coffee. Coughing, he accidentally knocked over his mug, not really minding the hot coffee pouring on his leg, or his unstoppable coughing, as his entire mind was focused on the idea of Trebol thinking about making a move on you. You were  Corazón's girl and no one else's.
Unfortunately for you, the next week was horrific. There was a reason why you usually avoided all the high ranks in the family, most of them either creeped you put or you were slightly afraid of them. But Trebol, holy shit, Trebol.
The man simply disgusted you. He was creepy and physically he was also repulsive. Ever since he started chasing after you, it all became a living nightmare. 
And needless to say, Corazon was pissed. Very annoyed. And since Trebol started his hunt, Rocinante would hardly leave your side, and would always be defensive, standing up for you. 
One day, the highest ranks were simply hanging out in the dining table, everyone else had just finished having breakfast and went to attend their respective duties. 
"Oi, Corazon, how the fuck am I supposed to ask her out if you're always with her!" Trebol complained. 
Blowing smoke out of his mouth and nose, Corazon wrote on a small notebook he usually carried around. 
"Leave her the fuck alone, you're creeping the hell out of her" it read in long stylized handwriting. 
"Aren't you just jealous of Trebol, Roci?" Doflamingo joked poking his brother's buttons. Corazon, however, scoffed sarcastically. "Aren't you afraid he'll steal your precious little friend?" 
Corazon kept writing. 
"As if!" Doffy laughed loudly as Corazon once more wrote in his notebook. "Stay away from her"
"Are you reading this shit, Trebol?" Joker smirked. 
Corazon's attitude annoyed Trebol, very much to Doflamingo's attitude. And driven by said annoyance, Trebol was more careful to hunt you down, more silently, more carefully. Creeping from the shadows and the corners like a worm or a ghost. 
While you were cleaning the many drawers with all sorts of medication, you heard the infirmary's door slide open. Your first thought, sparking flutters in your stomach and missed beats, you thought maybe it was your lover. 
Such was your disappointed, only surpassed by your fear when you saw Trebol's wide smile lurking from the entrance. The coldest of shivers running down your spine as your.mind quickly entered fight or flight mode. 
"You're not busy, are you, [Name]?" It was hard to hear what he'd just said from your strong heartbeat pounding blood to your lumps, the adrenaline spiking the hairs on your neck, as unconsciously you scanned the room for the quickest escape route. "You don't seem very busy" he hissed walking closer to you. 
You stepped back, still paralyzed by the fear
 Tripping on the bed behind you falling flat on your bum on it. 
"You're looking a little pale, [Name]-chan. Let me take care of you" his voice was sour, tainted with malice as one of his slippery wet hands stretched, reaching slowly towards your face. 
As much as you wanted to stop him, you couldn't. As much as you desired to hurt him, you'd be dead before you even knew it. And as much as you wanted to scream, you didn't have any control over your body.
Before Trebol could lay one of his sticky gross hands on you, another hand stopped him. 
A strong grip, menacingly stopping him. And before Trebol could complain, knowing perfectly well who it was who stopped him, he still felt an ice cold shiver wash over him when he met Corazon's dreadful stare. 
He'd never seen such a look in Corazon before. The look alone was enough to remind him who his brother was, making him realize that if Doflamingo was unstoppable, his brother should be too. After all, psychopathy was a genetic trait, thought Trebol.
A low gasp echoed inside the infirmary, as you noticed a few more members of the family poking inside, curious, confused, alarmed. 
“What is going on here?” Diamante aked, walking inside. 
“I was about to ask the same thing” Doflamingo followed, gazing into the scene. “Everyone, out. Except you three. You need some explaining to do” 
Just as commanded, everyone else dissipated, fearful of Doffy’s low frightening voice. 
“What is going on?” 
“Co-Corazon intervened with…” 
Rocinante glared at Trebol, feeling the same cold shiver run down his spine, he shut up immediately. As Corazon pointed at you with his index finger, motioning his arm, now pointing at his chest with his thumb. 
The silence was dense, almost palpable. A cold consuming silence until Doflamingo spoke. 
“What the fuck do you mean by ‘she’s mine’?” He hissed, comprehending what Corazon tried to say. 
Corazon pulled out the small notebook he usually used to communicate and quickly wrote in it. 
“She is my girlfriend” It read in Corazon’s handwriting, his eyes glued to his brother’s sunglasses.
“Is that so?” Doffy murmured. “You, nurse, what exactly do you have with my brother?” 
“I-I’m in love with him…” Nervously, you felt your heart in your throat. 
Corazon turned around and looked into your eyes, a special kind of warmth showing in them as he smiled gently,happy to hear those words coming from your mouth. He mouthed, not a single sound coming out of it, but you could clearly read his lips. 
“I love you” He mouthed. 
“How long?” Doflamingo interrupted the sweet little stare exchange you two had
“Two...years now?” You said exchanging stares with Corazon, not really sure of how long it had been, yet Rocinante’s nod confirmed your answer. 
“Corazon, why keep your relationship a secret?” Doffy asked.
“Because of the rank difference” Corazon wrote, to which Doffy nodded as it made sense. The highest rank with a lower rank. 
“Oi, lady” Doflamingo addressed you defiantly as you felt a slight sense of fear. “You hurt my brother, you better leave this island before I find out, otherwise, you’re dead. Understand?” 
“Yessir” You nodded. “Don’t worry, I don’t think I’d ever hurt Corazon, he’s far too dear to me” Suddenly you were feeling confident while talking. And felt slightly shy since you could feel Corazon’s stare on you.
“You better be telling the truth” Doffy hissed in a lower voice before turning towards the other commander “Trebol, leave, now”
“Bu-but Young Master…” He whimpered, however, Doflamingo interruted hi, not really caring about what he was going to say.
“Stop creeping on my brother’s girlfriend. If he hurts because you were messing with his girl, I won’t interfere and let him beat the shit out of you, understand?”
“But...Master…” Trebol’s voice shook nervously, however, Doflamingo interrupted him once more.
“Did I make myself clear?”
“Y-yes ir” Trebol’s voice shook slightly nervous, as you were looking at the scene fascinated by how intimidating Doflamingo could be. Corzon, however, was still looking at you lovingly, not minding the mess happening before him.
“Good, now get your sticky ass away from her... “ Doflamingo said leaving the infirmary. 
Trebol followed him soon after, leaving you and Corazon alone. You sighed loudly and sat on the bed. You felt a slight change in the atmosphere and looked around, recognizing the slight faint bubble surrounding you and Corazon. 
I’m sorry about that…” Rocinandte said, sure that only you could hear him. 
“It’s okay, thank you for standing up to me. Especially in front of your brother….” Grateful, you smiled at him, while he sat on the bed next to you. 
“Don’t thank me, darling…” Wrapping his arm around your shoulders, he kissed the top of or head “I love you” He purred.
Looking up, you smiled back at him, leaning closer and placing the softest of kisses on his lips, and brushing your nose lightly against his.
“I love you too” You whispered before Corazon leaned closer, kissing you with a wide smile on his face. 
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