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restlessfandoming · 3 years

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"you, my enemy" (chilumi oneshot)

Lumine must assassinate the cruel king of Snezhnaya, Ajax.

i could see this being turned into a full fledged fic? but for now, here is the dollar store version LOL

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"you, my enemy"

“I want you to kill the king of Snezhnaya.”

Lumine’s eyes flickered to her client. “King Ajax?”

“There is only one, is there not?” the hooded man responded.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You must have the wrong person,” she said. “I do run-of-the-mill jobs. I don’t murder kings.”

“I was told you were the only mercenary who could do it.”

Lumine slid out of the bar booth. “Find someone else who is insane enough to do that. I value my life.”

The man’s arm shot out, grabbing Lumine by the wrist. She would have sliced it clean off, had the man not taken off his hood.

He had an unmistakable hue of scarlet red hair, with equally fiery eyes to match.

“You’re Diluc,” Lumine said. “The son of the slain King Ragvindr.” It’s never a good idea to get involved with royals.

His face wavered at the mention of his father. “And who was the one who murdered him?”

“King Ajax,” she answered. “That sounds like your own quest for vengeance. Not mine.”

Diluc pulled her closer. “Magic,” he whispered.

Lumine’s blood ran cold. “Magic?” she echoed hollowly.

“I’ve been trying to find the right person to do this for a long time,” he told her. “I had to do my research.”

“What does magic have to do with this?” Lumine asked, trying to keep her voice even.

“You use magic,” Diluc stated. “That’s how you’ve completed every single one of your assignments perfectly.”

Magic had been banished long ago, a witch hunt massacring any and all magic users within the land of Teyvat. Each of the seven kingdoms had decreed it, agreeing that those with magic were too powerful—a threat to the people, all people.

Ever since, the rare few born with magical powers were forced to hide away their abilities for survival. I thought Aether and I hid it well enough.

“You do this, I won’t report you to the authorities,” Diluc continued.

“What about you?” Lumine hissed. “You’re supposed to be dead with the rest of your family.” She shook off his grip. “If I report you to King Ajax, there’s no doubt I’d get a hefty reward, more than you could ever give me for murdering him.”

He pursed his lips into a thin line. “If there’s any suspicion of a magic user, what sort of action do the authorities take?”

You’re killed on the spot—no questions asked. The kingdoms didn’t want to run any risk of magic users rising up, no matter how small of a threat.

“We would be executed at the same time,” Diluc said lowly.

Shit.

Lumine sat back down in the booth, sinking into the seat, gnawing on the side of her cheek. Then, she took a deep breath in.

“You’ll give me every single piece of Mora you have,” she demanded.

Diluc’s face visibly relaxed. “Of course.” He crossed his arms. “The hidden vaults of my family are all yours: every single jewel, Mora, artifact—when you complete the job.”

Lumine’s mouth nearly watered at the prospect of all the riches.

No, she wasn’t greedy. That amount of Mora meant she and her twin brother Aether could retire from this life, this life of scraping by with the money they made from bloody bounties and assassinations. It was the only job they could do, being abandoned as children, having to learn to fend for themselves.

This one job meant she and Aether could have quiet peace until the end of their days.

She held out her hand to Diluc.

“You have a deal.”

* * *

When Lumine arrives in Snezhnaya, she expects impoverished villages, famished citizens, and cold, desecrated lands—all while this merciless, vile king sat on his throne of bones and riches.

However, what she finds are bustling streets of business and cheerful citizens. Children played freely on the streets. The kingdom was thriving.

Is this king truly as evil as the stories say?

It hadn’t been long since King Ajax had begun his crusade of conquering the entirety of Teyvat. It had started with his brutal assassination of his own ruler at the time, the slaying of the late Tsaritsa, quickly followed by his claim to the throne. Then, he had taken over the small country of Mondstadt, and Liyue fell shortly after.

Any who opposed him would face the sharp end of a blade. The stories of him on the battlefield were whispers of blood soaked garments and a wicked smile as he slaughtered soldier after soldier with no remorse.

The image of this bloodthirsty monster faded as Lumine watched these citizens move around care free, as if they were unaware of the atrocities laying under their feet committed by their dear King Ajax.

Glancing up, she could see the distant looming monument, the grandiose castle of the king, looking over the land with a watchful stone eye.

She listened intently to the conversations around her, seeking any information about this Ajax, about how to get close enough to do her job.

She always wanted the most covert way, and now even more so. This was very much her highest profile case, and if she wasn’t careful, she could potentially start wars, with her murder being the first blood.

Perhaps the best way was to become some nondescript maid, someone’s whose presence and subsequent disappearance wouldn’t be questioned by any of the king’s allies. Perhaps as a chef? She could easily poison his food and silently slip away.

How she wished Aether was here with her. He was much more a strategist than she. Unfortunately, he had taken on a different job, far away in Inazuma. They would not see each other until both of their assignments were completed.

Lumine sighed, moving down the street, in search of a bar. Drunk bastards were always the best source of information: they didn’t know how to shut their mouths. In a bar, there were no figures too suspicious, and if there were, they would quickly be forgotten within a few pints of ale.

She pushed past vendors, until she was stopped by a brunette woman in a lavender robe.

“You are not from here,” she said with a breathy smile.

Singled out already? “I’ve only just recently moved here,” Lumine lied.

“Oh? For what reasons?” the woman pressed, her long eyelashes batting as she assessed Lumine head to toe. “Work?”

“No.” What was this woman’s motive? “I’ve heard Snezhnaya is a great country to live in.”

A content, pitched sigh. “Well, since you’ve just moved here, why don’t you come work for me? Outsiders earn a pretty penny.”

Lumine stared at her. “Who are you?”

The woman smiled. “I am Ying’er. I’m in charge of a local performance troupe.” She stepped closer, and Lumine could smell her flowery perfume. “I would love to have you join us.”

“No, thank you,” Lumine told her, inching away. Sounds like a cheap cover for a brothel. “I’m not in need of a job right now.”

Ying’er pouted, but stepped back. “Alright then, sweetie.” She leaned on the doorway of her shop. “I’ll be right here if you decide to come back,” she finished with a wink.

Lumine gave a curt nod before slinking away, back to her search for a bar. She pulled the hood of her cape over her head, sticking to the shadowed walls on her walk. Do I really stick out that much here?

In the distance, she heard the subtle pounding of a drum, and watched, astonished, as the crowded streets parted straight down the middle. An eerie silence filled the previously buzzing plaza. Something was coming.

All the citizens had their heads bowed—Lumine quickly followed suit.

The booming of the drums came closer, and she heard the thunderous marching of armored boots layered into the sound. She glanced up.

There was an entourage of armored soldiers, an assortment of glistening weapons at their sides, escorting a decorated golden carriage.

King Ajax.

What was this? Was there some sort of special occasion taking place?

Much easier to find than expected.

The carriage rolled past. Lumine strained to look at the window while still keeping her head bowed.

Unfortunately, the window was curtained, a velvety red cloth obscuring any view of the king. Lumine wrinkled her nose in disappointment; she had wanted to see what she was up against.

The terrifying rumors of King Ajax never told of what he looked like. Lumine imagined a beastly figure, one with dark shaggy hair and sharp teeth, bones all jutting out in the wrong directions, filleted with raw scars all over.

The carriage continued to move past.

Could she do it? Could she use her magic to take him out right now? There certainly was a large number of people around, and all of them would be suspects; all the easier for her to get away.

However, the guards could easily murder everyone in the plaza if a perpetrator wasn’t found. And, as Ying’er so blatantly pointed out, Lumine didn’t exactly fit in with the Snezhayan citizens.

She would just have to wait. Wait for a better opportunity. Wait to learn more about King Ajax. Wait to plan the best way to kill him.

There was a rustle of murmurs as the citizens returned to their activities, the royal carriage and its guards wheeling out of sight—the air more tense than before.

Taking in a deep breath, she resumed her search.

I need a drink.

* * *

Lumine sat in the corner booth as always, the seat in the bar that could overlook the entire establishment, the place where she could easily see who entered and exited the building.

She sipped at her mug of ale: not enough to become inebriated, but just enough to take some of her stress away. She still listened intently for any utterances about King Ajax.

She kept her eye on a man who was chugging pint after pint of alcohol, complaining about his job, his kids, his wife.

Maybe he’ll complain about his king as well.

“God, I miss Mondstadt,” the man sighed.

Lumine raised a brow. Someone from the conquered land of Mondstadt? He should definitely harbor some resentment for King Ajax.

“Careful there,” the bartender muttered. “The king will have your tongue if you speak ill of him.”

The drunkard scoffed. “The king ain’t here, is he? Too busy with his parties and parades to ever come to a hole-in-the-wall bar.”

The bartender shrugged, silently wiping a glass.

“C’mon,” the man continued. “You don’t think it’s weird how he always invites those performers to the castle? What a dramatic man.” A hiccup. “You think he beds all of them?”

“Probably. Lots of women would want to sleep with the king”

“See, King Ragvindr never did things like that.” He laid his head on the counter. “A modest man. Genuinely cared about his people.”

“King Ajax cares for us. He provides—he’s made Snezhnaya wealthier than ever.”

“Hmph. Is that why he murders people in cold blood? Remember that man that got executed in the street for not bowing to him?”

“Just listen to him, and you’ll be fine.”

Lumine slid out of her booth, making her way to the exit, to a certain brunette woman with a lavender robe.

He likes performers.

A plan started to bubble in her mind as she walked the streets to Ying’er’s shop.

She would slip into the castle with the performance troupe. She would feign illness, seemingly leaving early, when in actuality, she would hide until all the guests had left. King Ajax would retire for the night, alone—and that’s when she would strike.

Lumine smiled, just a bit, confidence coming to her now that she knew what to do.

Her and Aether’s life of freedom felt like a breath away.

* * *

“You’ve certainly improved quite a lot,” Ying’er said, sauntering into Lumine’s quarters.

Lumine set her lyre down. “Guess I’m a quick learner.”

It had been a few weeks since Lumine had arrived in Snezhnaya, and became one of Ying’er performers. She had decided to learn an instrument—the lyre—while staying with Ying’er and the rest of the performers at the hostess’ establishment. She preferred it over becoming a poet or dancer.

Ying’er was right: many people came to watch Lumine sit prettily on stage and play her lyre—her face painted with make-up, and her body adorned with beautiful robes and gowns.

All the while, Lumine anxiously awaited the king’s invitation to their performance troupe. He had invited different groups all over town, though not Ying’er’s yet.

Was this plan a failure? Where was that damned man’s invitation—

“Is that what I think it is?” Lumine asked, eyeing the embellished envelope in her boss’ hand.

Ying’er hummed in affirmation. “The king has finally invited our group to perform at a party tonight.”

Finally. “What an honor,” Lumine said with a smile.

“Very much so.” Ying’er put her hand under Lumine’s chin, examining her face. “Yes...I will have you dressed in our best garments and make-up.”

The woman smiled. “After all, you are our pretty little star.”

* * *

The carriage ride to the castle was filled with the girls’ giggles and whispers, how they wished for the king to whisk them away into a life of riches and royalty, to be his beloved first wife. Lumine kept a hand pressed against her leg—ensuring the dagger hidden under her heavy robes wouldn’t fall out.

She didn’t like to get messy with such a close ranged weapon—she would usually just use her magic from a distance—but she wasn’t going to take a chance if something were to go awry.

As they neared the castle, everyone burst into gasps, admiring the massive stone structure. The excitement doubled as the dozens of other carriages came into view as well.

This is going to be one very extravagant party.

Before she knew it, Lumine was sitting in the great hall, along with the rest of the party goers, awaiting the king’s arrival. She saw the empty throne at the very front of the room, raised on a marble platform, his rightful place above his subjects.

A fanfare of brass instruments blared. The king is here.

The room collectively stood, bowing their heads as the king’s personal guards filed in. Lumine quirked her head to look for King Ajax.

Oh.

The king was not a hideous looking beast at all.

In fact, he was quite the opposite.

He walked in, tall stature carrying an air of importance (and arrogance) on his shoulders with a billowing crimson red cloak, a broad grin plastered on his face. He was young, exactly around Lumine’s age.

He had reddish-brown hair framing his face, locks that glittered like gold in the light of the room, and his eyes were like vortexes—deep whirlpools of the bluest ocean water. All his features were sharp, upturned, like a cunning fox waiting contently to trap its prey.

She watched as he made his way up to his throne, a sickening anxiety spreading through her limbs.

Lumine had never killed anyone so close in age to her—it had always been older men and women. And, of course, she had never found herself attracted to her target.

“Please,” the king spoke, still grinning. “Have a seat.” As he sat on his throne, the rest of the room sat as well.

Lumine swallowed the lump in her throat. His voice was light, playful even.

Was that truly the murderous king of Snezhnaya?

“A toast, to you, my people,” he said, raising a golden goblet. “Let the festivities begin.”

Lumine gulped down her own glass of wine, then shook her head.

I’m here for a job. Not romance.

The room filled with chatter, and Ying’er motioned to Lumine and the rest of the musicians to the corner where they would be performing their music for the night.

Lumine gathered her lyre, shuffling towards her spot in her heavily layered robes. Her mouth was set in a taut line.

A momentary lapse in judgement.

As she played the first few notes, her eyes flickered to the king, who was busy greeting various nobles at his throne. She narrowed her eyes at him, at that sly, sly smile on his face.

It won’t happen again.

* * *

The night seemed to drag on forever. After what seemed like an eternity of playing music for the room—as other patrons ate and danced and conversed—the musicians were finally taking a break.

Lumine delightfully chewed through expensive meats and breads as various actors, dancers, and poets took the floor in front of King Ajax to present their pieces.

The king seemed to be entertained, joining on some of the performances himself.

That drunkard from the bar was right. King Ajax was quite dramatic, inserting himself into the spotlight whenever he so pleased. How pretentious.

The crowd clapped and cheered as another performance was brought to an end, an air of boisterous chatter resuming. Lumine swallowed her last piece of food, making her way to Ying’er.

Time to get started.

“Ying’er,” Lumine called to her boss, clenching her side. “I feel a bit sick.”

The brunette woman raised a brow. “You were looking quite well before.”

“Yes, it was very sudden,” Lumine responded, turning to the exit. “I think I will just head back now.”

“So soon, dear? We haven’t even introduced ourselves to the king yet.”

Lumine was already on her way out. “I’ll see you back at the shop.”

She slipped past the guards patrolling the halls, ducking into the nearest empty room, a storage closet of sorts. Perfect.

She hiked her long robes up, unsheathing her dagger, cutting away at the garments. Sorry, Ying’er. But I can’t fight in this. She threw the discarded fabric in a dark corner, where they would be forgotten about.

She slid the knife back into its sheath, and cracked the door open the tiniest bit—enough to watch the entrance into the great hall.

Now, all she had to do was wait.

* * *

Lumine would have fallen asleep had it not been for the two guards who stopped to converse right outside her door. Within a matter of seconds, Lumine had gone from sleepily nodding off to firmly clenching her weapon in her hand, nerves buzzing on high alert.

“That party dragged on forever,” one of the guards said. “I don’t know how King Ajax does it. Isn’t he exhausted every night?”

“Not sure. He seems to enjoy it.”

“He’s been gone a while now. Should we check on him?”

Lumine tightened her grasp on her dagger. He was gone?

“No. He likes to be alone at night. He’ll kill you if you interrupt him.”

“Oh...Should we just go to the other side of the castle then? So we don’t...interrupt him?”

“...Sounds like a good idea.”

The sound of their footsteps faded, and Lumine dared a peek out the door to scope out the hallway.

There were no other guards, and the boisterous sounds of the party were long gone.

Lumine slid out of the closet, sneaking down the hall, starting her search for King Ajax.

Sounds like he’s still here somewhere. Alone.

This job was getting easier and easier.

Too easy.

* * *

Please be in this room.

There was a great stone door before her, one she had come to after a mind-numbingly exhaustive search through the entirety of the large castle. She pushed on the door, as slowly and as quietly as possible, then looked in.

She nearly cried out in relief.

Sitting in the middle of the room was King Ajax, his back turned to her.

He was completely silent, unmoving, in this empty stone room. Was he asleep? No, it looked more like meditation.

Lumine slinked in, silently, conjuring the elemental energy of the wind in the room.

She would take every bit of air out of his body. Quick, quiet, no mess. It was the method she had always used.

She closed her eyes to focus, feeling the pull of air from his lungs.

He was going to die, and she was going to be free, free with her brother—

WHOOSH!

Lumine opened her eyes just in time to see Ajax rush towards her.

His hand wrapped around her throat, and he slammed her into the ground. All of the breath in her body hissed out of her, and she clawed at his hand.

“Who are you?” he growled.

She stopped prying at his hold, quickly yanking out her dagger, and slashing at his face.

He dodged, forcing him to loosen his grip on her.

She slashed again at his hand, throwing herself away from him as he recoiled in pain. She rubbed at her neck, gasping for breath. The king was looking at the gash across his fingers.

Shitshitshit.

Lumine quickly focused her energy on the earth below, trying to create shackles out of stone to hold him in place, or to just bury him alive.

The ropes of earth sprang out of the ground. His eyes flickered to the coils as they rushed for him.

Yes!

But then a swirling mass of water appeared, engulfing him, destroying the chains in the process.

What—?!

A sharp stream of water shot out from the bubble, coiling around Lumine before she could react. She was pulled to the ground, bound, and unable to move.

The bubble of water dissipated, and Ajax stepped out, eyes ablaze. He approached Lumine.

“Who are you?” he asked again, less angry, more inquisitive.

She strained against the chains of water, her elemental energy unable to rid them. She locked eyes with him. “You’re a magic user.”

He squatted next to her. “You are too,” he responded, the smallest ghost of a smile on his lips. He took her dagger into his hands, weighing it. “Now, why were you trying to kill me?”

Lumine bit her cheek. No, she couldn’t sell Diluc out; he could still get Aether killed.

“That’s how you conquered Mondstadt and Liyue so easily. You used magic,” she pushed, ignoring his question. “That’s forbidden.”

He barked out a laugh, wiping his bloodied hand on her robes. “And yet, here we are, two magic users in one room.” He pointed the dagger at Lumine’s neck. “Tell me why you were trying to kill me, before I make it only one. I won’t ask again.”

“You’re going to kill me anyway,” Lumine said. “I’m a magic user. That threatens your power, doesn’t it?”

Ajax studied her for a second, pulling the dagger back, just a bit. “True.” He tilted his head. “But I’ve never actually met another magic user before.”

She averted his intense gaze. “So what are you going to do? Keep me alive and experiment on me?”

“No.” He stood. “How about this...in exchange for sparing your life, you become my student.”

…

What?

“You mean learn magic from you?” Lumine glared at him. “How do you know I won’t kill you in the future?”

“You won’t,” he said. “This murder attempt? Wasn’t personal—you tried to kill me from a distance. Someone must have sent you.” He closed his eyes, squeezing the hilt of the dagger. After some shaking, it disintegrated into dust.

“Also, you can’t kill me,” he continued, opening his eyes. “You’re severely untrained. You saw how easily I subdued you.” A small smile. “All the more reason to learn from me.”

Maybe this was the gods taking mercy on Lumine. Ajax didn’t kill her right away; she had a chance to live, to get back home to Aether.

“What’s in it for you? This only seems to benefit me,” she said to Ajax.

He hummed, thinking. “A potentially powerful weapon,” he responded, eyes glinting.

Maybe, once she learned more magic, she could overtake him, and complete her job.

She locked eyes with him.

“You have a deal.”

The ghost of those words burned bitter on her tongue.

* * *

Lumine nearly died the next morning.

“You did what?!” she gasped out, after deathly choking on a part of her breakfast.

She was currently sitting across from Ajax in his elegant dining room, who had just informed her that he had announced their marriage.

He leaned back in his chair. “A random new woman living in the king’s castle? Bound to raise many rumors,” he said, nonchalant. “This way, there are no rumors, and we can train without being questioned.”

Lumine worried her lip. He has a point.

“I don’t—We don’t have to...do anything in public, do we?” she asked.

“No.” He smirked. “Unless you want to, pretty girl.”

She grimaced. “No, thank you.” Here for a job, not romance, she reminded herself, no matter how handsome this cocky bastard is. Not to mention, she still planned to kill him.

And so, Lumine’s days were filled with training, pretending to the servants and maids she was King Ajax’s fiancée. She was trapped, as Ajax reminded her many times that if she tried to leave, he would swiftly execute her.

She learned more about him, as much as she didn’t want to. She saw that he did really care for his people, and provided for them as best he could—though he wasn’t above using his power to strike down those in his way, whether it was an enemy or a citizen who simply disrespected his reign.

And that was ultimately what he wanted: power. To have power over everyone in the land of Teyvat. He had endless ambition—Lumine could credit him that much.

Some days, she caught herself imagining it as well: a world she could rule over, have everyone bend to her will, set the laws so people like her and Aether could live without fear, and be provided for. In some ways, she could relate to Ajax’s desires. In some ways, she could justify his methods.

It very much disgusted her, at first. But then, it was liberating. To have someone who could understand the darker sides to her being, understand the blood on her hands.

Even Aether could never fully understand her. How part of her was always glad to be given magical powers to defend herself and those she cared about. How part of her enjoyed her current situation.

After all, she was living lavishly, compared to the impoverished life she had before. She had every meal provided for, luxuriously, and a soft bed to lay in every night. No threat of the authorities finding out about her powers and murdering her.

Could she perhaps bring Aether here?

Ajax had spared her—was it too much of a stretch to believe he would spare her twin as well?

If Aether could be brought here, she wouldn’t have to kill Ajax. She wouldn’t have to kill perhaps the only person in Teyvat that knew who she truly was.

* * *

“If you found another magic user,” she asked Ajax over dinner, “would you train them as well?”

Ajax took a sip of wine from his goblet. “No.”

“...No?”

A small smile, a slight flash of his canines. “I can’t have my weapons outnumbering me, now can I?”

Lumine’s mouth went dry. “If you won’t train them...what would you do with them?”

“Kill them.” He set the cup down. “They would be a threat.”

“I’m not a threat?”

Ajax barked out a laugh. “No, Lumine. No, you are not.”

Ah.

So she and Aether couldn’t be together here. Aether was still in danger of being outed by Diluc.

“Why?” Ajax questioned. “Are you lonely here?”

“I’m trapped in your castle. What do you think?”

He rested his head on his hand. “My bed is open at night, if you’d like.”

Lumine drove her knife through her food. “You’re insufferable.”

“Oh, Lumine, it’s just banter,” he said, chuckling. “You don’t think we’re friends? I quite like your company.”

She pursed her lips, staying silent.

“You don’t have to lie to me.” Ajax stared right at her. “I see you while we train. You like it here. You like becoming more and more powerful.”

He leaned over the table. “You and I are very similar.” He smiled. “There’s a hunger in your eyes. You want exactly what I have.”

Lumine stood abruptly. “We are nothing alike,” she spat uselessly. He sees right through me.

“I told you, you don’t have to lie to me,” Ajax responded, sitting back in his chair. “We are already married. We could rule together—as partners.”

...What?

“I thought I was your weapon.” Her knuckles were white from clutching the edge of the table.

“Partner if you so choose.” His blue eyes narrowed slightly. “Weapon if not.”

What game is he playing? “There has to be some sort of catch.” He was essentially offering her his power as king, even if it was just partially.

“No catch,” he said. “Like I said, if you refuse, you’ll just continue your little life of entrapment, as my weapon.”

“One of these options is obviously better than the other.”

Ajax laughed, genuinely, his expression softening, just a bit. “I guess one is.”

She gave him a look, quizzical, before swiftly leaving the room, his proposal still hanging in the night.

As the guards escorted her back to her room, she played the conversation over and over again in her mind.

Would it be so bad? Would it be so bad as King Ajax’s consort, his companion through his crusade of Teyvat?

He was right: part of her deep down ached for that kind of power.

But joining Ajax meant sacrificing her dear brother.

The aching desire hissed, Is that a sacrifice you are going to make?

* * *

The castle’s stone floors were freezing on Lumine’s feet as she traversed through the halls barefoot. No shoes meant no sound. No sound meant she could surprise the guards, getting the upper hand to take them out. Already, there was a trail of dead guards behind her as she passed through the corridors, the air stripped from their lungs.

Her sheer white nightgown fluttered around her as she dashed about, and in the dim moonlight waning through the windows, she thought herself a ghost, an angel of death. She was on a path she could not stop.

She knew exactly where he was. After spending so many days trapped here, of course she knew where the king’s quarters were.

She knew him like clockwork: what days he would stay up in his study, what days he would retire to his chambers and when. She knew where his guards were, when they would switch patrols, when their protection would be the weakest.

And when it came time, she stood outside of his door, wavering on the spot slightly.

She shook her head, trying the door. Locked.

Taking a breath in, she rapped her knuckles on the hardwood.

She heard rustling beyond the heavy oak door, her heartbeat picking up. She would have to get in there quick, before he looked behind her and saw his guards missing.

The door swung open, a flash of anger on Ajax’s face until he saw who it was.

He gave her a closed-eye smile. “Ah, Lumine, to what do I owe the pleasure—”

Lumine stood on the tips of her toes, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him in for a kiss.

She could feel him go rigid under her touch. She walked him backwards, further into the room, closing the door behind her with her foot.

As the door shut, he broke away from her. “Are you accepting my proposal?” he whispered, his hands clutched around her arms.

Lumine nodded, going for another kiss, arms slinking around his shoulders. This time, he melted into her touch, pulling until he was under her on his bed.

He fell for it.

Pity crept into her heart. From the way he breathed her in, the way he held her in his arms, there was a softness she had never seen from him.

He loved her.

She was his weapon, and now, his greatest weakness.

“I’m sorry,” she said against his lips.

His eyes opened, those ocean eyes on her as she pulled the air from his lungs with ease.

You shouldn’t have trained me.

His hand reached for her throat, but went to his own as he gasped and choked.

She wrapped her own hands around his, pressing down. She slammed her eyes shut. She didn’t want to see his face.

He thrashed wildly, and she repeated I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’msorryimsorry over and over again until he went still under her.

…

...

She opened her eyes, the world blurry around her. She wiped away the tears pooling in her vision, and looked down at Ajax.

He was unmoving, eyes glazed over, arms limp at his side.

Lumine reached for his throat, hand shaking, fingers checking for a pulse.

He’s dead.

She scrambled off of him, crumbling into a ball on the floor.

I killed him.

Her breathing was uneven—she was the one gasping for breath now as uncontrollable sobs racked through her body.

I am so sorry, Ajax.

* * *

“Lumi?”

Lumine turned to see Aether looking at her with worry.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

A breeze rustled by. Lumine turned back to look over green fields that stretched as far as she could see.

“I’m okay,” she responded.

“Okay,” he repeated. He smiled a bit, pulling an envelope from his pocket. “Diluc’s hawk came this morning. He sends warm wishes to us both.”

After the assassination of King Ajax, Lumine decreed Snezhnaya a freed country, a country with no ruler, and returned the lands of Mondstadt and Liyue back to their rightful heirs. Diluc, now the restored king of Mondstadt, gave Lumine and Aether the riches he promised, and a home deep in the countryside for the peaceful life they so desperately wanted.

But sometimes Lumine had nightmares of Ajax.

She would be sitting next to him, on their thrones as the King and Queen of Snezhnaya. Sometimes, little princes and princesses of theirs would be running around as well.

They would have conjured all of Teyvat together.

They would have loved each other.

Lumine would wake up, tears in her eyes, heart heavy with desire for that life.

And then she would cry because her life would never be peaceful ever again.

#genshin impact #genshin childe #genshin lumine #chilumi #fanfiction #fanfic #me

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write-r-die · 3 years

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Prisoner - Part 14

February, 1067

Henry Cavill is a respected Norman baron who has been tasked with finding Lady Thomasin, an ill-tempered Saxon noblewoman, and returning her to London so the king can marry her off to a cruel Norman invader. The two grow close during the long journey, and Henry puts his own life in danger (more than once) to protect the woman he loves.

Masterlist

This chapter sucks but it’s about to get super good!

Thomasin went straight to church in the morning to confess. She liked and trusted Elaine, but she wasn’t comfortable sharing her innermost thoughts with her yet, especially since her daughter was likely to eavesdrop.

Not that she particularly trusted William’s priest to keep her confidence, especially considering what she planned to confess.

Her conversation with Charlie pricked at her mind like a sewing needle hidden in a bed might prick at her body.

Thomasin lowered herself to her knees and made the sign of the cross. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been three months since my last confession.” It was the custom to confess at least once a month, but the past year’s events had altered everyone’s routines.

“What are your sins, daughter?”

“I have been unkind. I have blasphemed. I have not loved my neighbors. I have not kept the Sabbath day. I have been . . . amorous.” These were mostly the same sins as usual, but the amorousness was a new addition thanks to that week she spent in Henry’s lap. “That’s all I can remember.”

“Are you sure of that?” asked the priest.

Thomasin took a deep breath. “No. I have not yet - that is, I’m considering another sin. You won’t betray my confidence, Father, will you? That must surely be a sin. Is it not?”

“It is. No, child, I won’t betray your confidence and share your secrets. What is this sin you consider?”

“I’m thinking of . . . lying . . . to the king.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the curtain. “Explain.”

All at once, Thomasin’s story came rushing out starting with the night the Cavills took her prisoner to Charlie’s idea that she lie to the king about her virginity. “And I know I mustn’t bear false witness against my neighbor, but I am not bearing false witness against my neighbor, only myself. You see?”

The priest was silent for a long time. “Would it truly be so bad to marry Lawrence?”

“Yes!” He drove his wife to commit self-murder. Didn’t he? He didn’t seem actively cruel. Did he truly become so angry that he beat his wife until she lost the child in her belly? It seemed to Thomasin that he couldn’t be bothered to do such a thing, that he didn’t feel anything strongly enough to act in such a way – to act at all, really.

“I think so,” Thomasin amended. “I can’t be sure. But it cannot be good.” Of that, she was quite certain.

“Is that the only reason you don’t wish to marry him?” asked the priest.

“There’s Henry, too, of course.” She swallowed hard. “I cannot bear the thought of Henry being with someone else.” The words stuck in her dry throat like fish bones. Lord. That was the first time she’d admitted it. It was painfully true. The idea of Henry bedding another woman, her bearing his children – it made her sick to her stomach.

The priest sighed. “It is never easy to follow God’s laws. We all must make sacrifices to enter His Kingdom, for the road to Heaven is narrow and steep.”

“You think I ought to marry Lawrence? Don’t you know what happened to his last wife?”

“Seek solace in the spiritual world. Devote yourself to God. It is through Him that you will find comfort and joy.”

Thomasin had to literally bite her tongue to keep from lashing out. Wouldn’t God want His children to be happy? Didn’t He want Lawrence to be punished?

The priest told her to recite certain prayers to atone for her sins. She thanked him as graciously as possible and nearly stomped out of the chapel.

She was being childish, she knew, but she could not help it. Most girls were married off at fourteen to men they did not know. She was some twenty years old and unwed. She spent her life being coddled and guarded by her father. And now she was a piece of chattel to be traded by men who did not know her or care for her wellbeing.

She knew in her heart that Henry wouldn’t let that happen. He’d give his arm for her if she asked him to. But it might not be enough.

She believed that he was a finer swordsman that Lawrence – better than even King William, perhaps – but she also believed his honor made him vulnerable. Henry might be the finer warrior, but she suspected Lawrence had a great and dark mind. That could be just as dangerous. Sometimes more so.

Henry ordered her to let him deal with the matter. It was the only thing he ever truly asked of the woman he held so dearly and treated with such generosity and respect. But if it was in her power to preserve the life and limb of the man to whom she owed her own, how could she not? Surely he would understand. He must.

***

The next few days numbered among the most difficult in Thomasin’s life. She felt sick even after her courses passed; she’d worked herself into a fine state. She had an episode like this when she was young, around the time of her mother’s death. The healer, a monk, called it hysteria. She’d been blessedly free of it since then – it didn’t even happen when her father got sick – but now it was back, and it would not go away.

One of the Saxon prisoners died – of what, Thomasin did not know – and two more pledged their loyalty to William, even though it meant giving up everything they owned, including their dignity. They made their pledge in front of the entire court just before supper.

Thomasin and Henry were seated at the table at opposite sides, one chair over from each other. They could steal glances at one another during the meal, but they could not speak. Thomasin supposed that was the point.

Lawrence had taken to sitting next to her most nights. They didn’t speak. Lawrence had ceased with the pleasantries after her comment about his last wife. He ignored her as much as possible, but he sneered whenever she spoke.

Thomasin understood that he didn’t want this any more than she did, but he needed a wife to produce heirs and Thomasin was a gift from the king. He couldn’t refuse. He did still get pleasure out of the arrangement, for seeing him with Thomasin upset Henry to the point where he could hardly hold back his anger. Between Henry’s jealousy and Thomasin’s feistiness, conquering her was sure to be excellent sport.

The Saxon knights came forward and fell to their knees before the king and his wife and made their pledges. The other Saxons in attendance – mostly women, but a handful of warriors and former nobles that pledged themselves to the Normans early on – showed a range of emotions. Some of the men applauded their brothers for being sensible; others appeared to be ashamed. Most of the women looked like the wanted the whole thing over and done with, especially Elaine, who knew most of the Saxon prisoners either from tending their wounds or meeting them at court before the Norman invasion.

Henry’s reaction was surprising. He glared at the trencher of food in front of him, nostrils flared and jaw clenched as though he were the one being forced to swallow his pride. Thomasin made no effort to hide her concern, and neither did Charlie.

He, of course, knew about Cerdic’s presence in the dungeon, and he worried that Henry would allow his emotions to get the best of him. Frankly, he didn’t understand why Henry was so upset. He thought Cerdic was dead already; soon enough he would be. Perhaps he was feeling guilty for his part in the conquest. Thomasin had his head in knots.

During the applause that followed the oaths, Henry shoved away from the table and made a beeline for the main doors without offering any excuse or explanation.

Thomasin looked quizzically at Charlie, who sat directly across from her. He shook his head. She stood up and went after him anyway.

The large corridor was mostly empty, except for a young couple kissing deeply in a shadowed corner and a handful of female servants walking back and forth between the hall and the kitchens. They gossiped as they walked, paying no attention to those around them.

“Henry,” Thomasin called, scurrying over to him. He had his shoulder leaned against the wall and he was rubbing his face with his hand.

He looked up at the sound of Thomasin’s voice and gave a weary smile. “You should not have followed me,” Henry said, trying to sound stern; he just sounded tired. He caught sight of his ring hanging from the chain around Thomasin’s neck. He held it in his hand, still hanging from her neck, and smiled slightly.

“You followed me when I ran off in the woods,” she said. “I’m only returning the favor.”

“Or exacting your revenge,” Henry teased.

Thomasin shrugged her narrow shoulders and repeated Henry’s earlier words back to him. “It’s a matter of perspective.”

“This looks very fine on you,” Henry said of the ring.

“Will you have a pendant made for me like your brothers’ wives and your mother?”

“Patience,” he said teasingly. In fact, he had commissioned a jeweler shortly after arriving in London, though the piece’s production was delayed because Henry didn’t have his ring to show the jeweler. Instead, he had to provide the man with his shield so he could study the symbols painted on it. It wouldn’t be very pretty, he thought, but as long as it was recognizable it didn’t matter.

He knew better than to seek to borrow Charlie’s ring when he arrived. He would lend it to Henry if he asked him to, but he’d certainly put up a fuss about it.

And then he remembered the Saxon awaiting his death three floors below them.

Henry’s smile faltered.

“What’s wrong?” Thomasin murmured.

Seeing Cerdic, simply knowing that he was alive and nearby, upset Henry. As far as he could tell, the man was a boar, and it would be no great loss to the world for him to die. But it still bothered him.

Cerdic didn’t know about Henry’s relationship with Thomasin, her betrothal to Lawrence, or even that she was at court. He had no fondness for Thomasin, it seemed, and he would certainly not treat her with respect if they were wed, but he was still a living reminder of the life the Normans stole from her. That Henry stole from her. He sometimes felt that Thomasin was as much a prisoner as her former intended.

She cared for Henry, of course, but he wondered how much of her affection was true – true, in that it would still be there if she were free of Norman rule – if she had the option to return home to her father and go on living as she did before.

More than that, he worried how Thomasin would feel if she knew Cerdic was here. He swore Roger and Charlie to secrecy, of course. Lawrence didn’t know of his intended’s former relationship with the red-bearded prisoner – if he did, he would surely use that information to inflict pain.

“The Saxons . . .” Henry shook his head. “I’m so tired of all this fighting.”

Thomasin took a deep breath knowing she was about to start a fight. “Then why do you insist on fighting Lawrence?”

Henry’s nostrils flared in anger; he let the ring fall back into place. “Don’t start.”

“I’m not trying to start anything,” she said apologetically. She stepped closer as he started pacing in a circle, one hand on his hip as he rubbed his brow with the other. His hair, still short by Saxon standards, was a small pile of tumbling curls stacked atop his head. But he still looked so handsome. “I just . . . I’m just . . .”

“Just what?”

“I’m frightened! All right?!” How dare he make her say it out loud?

Henry stopped pacing. He tried to soften his features, but he was still stiff with nervousness. “It will be all right, Tom. Nothing will happen to you.”

“I don’t care about me!” she hissed. “I want to protect you just as much as you wish to protect me. Why won’t you let me?”

Henry was lost. “How?”

Kal let loose a warning bark that nearly made Thomasin jump. She hadn’t even realized he was in the hall with them. “Go,” she said to Henry. “I need a moment to compose myself.”

Henry slipped past her just as Lawrence came into view, carrying a goblet of wine in one hand and holding the other behind his back. Henry tensed his muscles so hard he nearly shook. Thomasin nodded silently to assure him that she was all right. Henry stomped back into the hall as Lawrence took a long drink from his goblet of wine.

“Would you like some?” he asked Thomasin.

“No, thank you.”

“Very well.” He tapped his fingernail against the rim of the glass. “You remember the nobleman’s family that I put to death?” he asked, lifting the cup to his lips again.

What sort of a question was that? “Yes.”

“Do you think they would’ve been better off alive, surrounded by lustful soldiers?” Lawrence asked calmly. “Do you think the baroness would be pleased to see her young daughters beaten and defiled in the same home where she was once mistress? It was a mercy killing in some ways.”

Thomasin was silent. She’d considered such questions for months after the Normans landed up until the night Henry lifted her out of her hiding place. She always concluded that she would rather be dead than passed around like a brood mare.

“You’d never have been so lucky. That would’ve been your fate if the king weren’t so set on bringing your brother to heel, which he clearly cannot, and if anyone but the Cavills had come for you, you would’ve been tied and beaten into submission and raped nightly, not carried about like a babe with your virtue intact.”

“I know that,” Thomasin snapped. What was his point? “Are you truly surprised that I might wish to marry someone who would treat me well? Someone I know would never raise a hand to me?”

“I won’t deny that I struck my wife on more than one occasion,” Lawrence said. “She came to me when she was fifteen years old. Still a child in need of discipline. You’re more intelligent, more mature, and I think you will know better than she did. I was not the source of all her troubles, as much as you might like to think so.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I dislike the way that you fawn over Henry and regard me as the most heinous of villains. You should be grateful for your good fortune. You’re betrothed to a man capable of mercy toward women.”

Beating his wife was mercy? He likely just meant that he wouldn’t take her against her will, and that was a great mercy indeed for women. Beating wasn’t so heinous, Thomasin supposed, but that didn’t mean she was all right with it.

“What do you care what I think?”

“I don’t. I care about whether or not my peers perceive me as weak, though, and I won’t have a wife who runs after another man anytime he frowns.” His voice remained even but his whole face had gone bright red with anger. “We’re to be wed next week. Once you are mine, I won’t tolerate such behavior. A wife obeys her husband in all things; you will not embarrass me by fawning over a weakling. Should you continue to do so, I won’t hesitate to show you my displeasure. Am I clear?”

The calm with which he spoke was unsettling. God’s truth, Thomasin would have felt better if he shouted.

Thomasin dipped her head. “I understand, my lord.”

Lawrence’s face returned to its normal color and a smile bloomed across his face. “Good.” He gave Thomasin a peck on the cheek. “Sleep well, my beloved.”

She didn’t notice Elaine and her daughter standing nearby until Elaine called out to her. “Thomasin?” She scurried over to her friend. “Are you all right?” Thomasin swallowed back the lump in her throat and nodded. “Here. Come with me.” She released her grip on Mercia to pull Thomasin around a corner for greater privacy, squeezing her hands reassuringly. “What’s happened?”

Thomasin didn’t realize all the color was gone from her face or that she was quaking like a leaf. “I’m fine.”

“Mamma?” Mercia said.

“A moment, my love,” her mother told her. “She was falling asleep at the table; I was leaving to put her to bed,” she explained to Thomasin. “I didn’t mean to listen in on your conversation.”

“I don’t care about that,” Thomasin said, shaking her head.

“I didn’t hear anything clearly,” Elaine said over her. “I only saw that he was talking to you and the look on your face.”

Mercia wasn’t paying attention to what the women were saying, she only saw the sadness in Thomasin’s eyes. “Why you crying?” she asked, eyebrows knit together. Thomasin noticed for the first time how cherubic the child appeared.

“I’m not crying.” Thomasin honestly didn’t think she was. And she wasn’t really, in that there were no tears, but she certainly looked distressed.

The child wouldn’t accept the non-explanation. “Mamma, why she crying?”

Elaine released her friend’s hands and crouched to look her daughter in the eye. “Go back inside, please. Lady Thomasin and I are speaking. I’ll take you to bed just as soon as we’ve finished.”

“But she sad!” Mercia objected. She looked around. “Where Bear? Bear make you happy. I go find!” She was still upset with Kal for assaulting Batty, but she trusted in his ability to bring joy to others.

“No, no, that’s all right,” Thomasin said with a sniffle. “I don’t want to bother him.” The last thing she needed was for Henry to be involved.

Mercia frowned for a moment before thrusting her doll up toward Thomasin’s face. “Take,” she commanded. “Batty make you feel better.”

Thomasin swallowed again and reached out numb fingers. She couldn’t remember the last time she held a doll. “Thank you.”

“Not for always,” Mercia said, holding up a finger. “You keep just until you feel better.”

“I understand. Thank you.”

Elaine and Mercia walked Thomasin back to her room. Elaine gave Etheldreda some instructions. “Mercia, can Lady Thomasin borrow some of Batty’s magic?”

“Just a little bit,” Mercia agreed.

Elaine smiled in thanks. She tore the doll open just enough to pull out some of the dried lavender, which she instructed Etheldreda to put in hot water for Thomasin to drink. “It will keep you from getting upset. I’ll send along some more herbs to help you rest. And more of Batty’s magic,” she assured her daughter. She turned back to Thomasin. “It won’t seem so bad in the morning. A good night’s sleep always helps.”

“I don’t think I can shut my eyes,” Thomasin said.

Elaine smirked. “Sleeping drafts are my specialty.” She didn’t mention that the drafts were the only thing that kept her from going mad when the Normans arrived. Without them, she’d spend all night staring up at the ceiling, clutching her daughter to her chest, praying for mercy from God and the invaders both.

She slipped away to put Mercia to sleep while Etheldreda prepared Thomasin for bed she sent a servant back with a pack of herbs for Etheldreda to make a sleeping draft and a handful of lavender to replace Batty’s stuffing.

Thomasin watched the fire flicker until the draft was ready. Etheldreda watched her drink, ensuring she drained every drop. Thomasin wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist.

“Lie down,” said Etheldreda.

Thomasin shuffled down in the bed as her maid drew the covers over her. “Etheldreda, have you ever been married?”

She nodded. “Twice.”

“Did you love your husbands?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Did they ever beat you?”

The old woman frowned. “Peasant women can be lucky on occasion. Sometimes we get to choose our husbands.” She tucked Batty under the covers beside Thomasin. “Shut your eyes and rest.”

“I don’t feel tired,” Thomasin said skeptically. She was asleep moments later.

Thomasin woke around noon the following day. She was still in a daze, so she decided to keep to her rooms for the day. She’d go visit Henry once she was feeling better.

Etheldreda drew her a steaming bath to ease her into the waking world. She washed and brushed her mistress’s hair, as there was too much of it for Thomasin to manage on her own. She told little stories about her daughters and granddaughters. She had sons, too, Thomasin thought, but she didn’t talk about them. Thomasin guessed they were killed in the war.

A servant dropped off some bread and cheese so Etheldreda and Thomasin did not need to leave the room for their nooning meal. Thomasin did feel better, she thought as Etheldreda laced the back of her simple gown.

The servant had only just finished when someone pounded on the door so hard that it shook. “Thomasin!” It was Charlie’s voice.

She pulled the door open, knowing immediately that something bad had happened. “What is it?”

Charlie’s shoulders heaved as he breathed heavily; he’d clearly run from wherever he had been to Thomasin’s room. “Henry’s challenging Lawrence.”

“Today?”

“Now!” Charlie said. “If you want to help him, we must go.”

Thomasin didn’t even stop to put on her slippers. She ran alongside Charlie, damp hair loose and whipping around her. The people they passed looked at her like she’d gone mad. Maybe they thought she was drunk for presenting herself in public like that. Or a strumpet.

They finally reached the throne room.

Charlie shoved the doors open and Thomasin rushed inside. Henry had removed his glove and prepared to throw it down; Thomasin surged forward and managed to grab it out of his hand before he could and careened toward the dais and the king.

She fell so heavily on her knees that she scraped the skin. She’d have awful bruises tomorrow. It didn’t matter. She stared up at the king with enormous eyes. “Your grace, they can’t fight,” she gasped. “Please don’t let them fight.”

“Thomasin,” Henry snarled.

“There’s no need for them to fight,” Thomasin said over him. She refused to turn and look at him.

William raised an eyebrow. “No need? Does this mean you’ll marry Lawrence willingly?”

“Absolutely not.” Her tone was far too harsh but she prayed William would excuse her given the circumstances. “But – I cannot be his wife. Not truly.”

William asked, “Why?”

Oh, God help her. This stupid, stupid girl. Charlie’s plan might not work but she at least had to try.

“Because. Because I’m not – I’m – I’m not a virgin!”

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blrush · 3 years

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If Nobleman Ryu’s Wedding was a serious drama with hour long episodes. Part 4: Everything Is Torn Apart.

[The final part of my fic, enjoy! It gets dark but has a happy ending]

As Ki Wan looked at Ho Seon’s open and trusting face, fragments of a scene play out in his mind like a dream …

… Ki Wan is in beautiful robes, he can feel the weight of jewels in his hair, just like on his wedding day. He is in the palace grounds, splendour and opulence engulf him, women in bright gowns, stairs with gold and red carpets lead up to the king and queen who sit atop their pedestal like gods on a mountain. Hundreds of lords and ladies watch him with beady eyes. Tae Hyung is holding him, parading him in front of the king, his nails digging into Ki Wan’s forearm. Ho Seon watches on, held by palace guards. The crowd sneers and jeers, Tae Hyung’s voice echoes through across the forecourt, lecturing, accusing … then he rips at Ki Wan’s robes, jewels and silks cascade to the floor, and Ki Wan is standing naked – the crowd is gasping, Ho Seon is yelling for his wife, the guards beat him into submission …

No. That won’t happen. He won’t let that happen.

“Ho Seon, I have to tell you. I …. I’m not really your wife. What I mean is … I’m not a woman. I’m a man. And Tae Hyung knows...”

~~~

“I don’t understand.”

Hwa Jin was looking at Ho Seon with such earnestness in his face, that Ho Seon knew he must pay attention, he must take this seriously. But he couldn’t understand, he couldn’t comprehend the words forming on Hwa Jin’s lips. After everything that had happened that afternoon, he was still pre-occupied with Tae Hyung’s order that he join the palace court. Now his head was spinning!

“I don’t understand” he fumbled again. “You’re my wife. I mean, you were betrothed to me by my uncle – why would my uncle marry me to a man? …Oh. Oh I see!” his voice began to raise in anger and derision. “Is this some sort of joke?! To teach me a lesson? Who knew? Did my mother tell him? Are you all playing a trick on me!?” He withdrew his hands from where Hwa Jin was still grasping them in his lap.

He brought his hands up to face, shaking his head in dismay. This was all too much to bare. He trusted his wife implicitly, completely. Had she betrayed him? No, HE had HE betrayed him?

~  Ki Wan was taken a back, he had predicted anger, but Ho Seon’s reaction was totally unexpected, this defensiveness and barrage of self-pity. What was he talking about, and why was his anger not directed at Ki Wan? Whilst he knew, rationally, that any attempt at physical contact in such a moment was unwise, and may invite a violent reaction from Ho Seon, Ki Wan felt pity swelling in him – the man before him was hurt and confused, his friend and companion, who needed comfort. So, he reached out and gently put his hands over Ho Seons’, softly guiding them down, away from his face and back to his lap, where he held them tight once again.

“Ho Seon. Please” he begged. “Listen to me. No one knew of this. No one! I don’t know what kind of plot of ploy you think has been concocted here, but believe me it was all my doing. You were betrothed to my sister, Hwa Jin, and when she ran away, I decided that I must take her place – it was the only way to save our families name and to save my father from dept. And …” Oh no, it was all tumbling out now, everything he had bottled up so tightly all these months. “I had to leave. There was nothing for me at home, I had no one, and I thought maybe I could have a better life here … with you…And I was going to tell you and I kept waiting for the right moment but it never came, and the longer I stayed with you and the more I got to know you the more hurt I knew you would be and I couldn’t bear the thought of you hating me, and I know I was selfish and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Ki Wan was crying now, how abysmal. All these months of effort and lying and torment, for what? So that he could fall to pieces at the mercy of Ho Seon, just as he feared he would on his wedding night in the first place.

They were both sitting still, looking down at their clenched hands between them. Neither one pulling away. The only sound Ki Wan could hear was Ho Seon’s breath and his own pathetic sniffling.

“I don’t hate you.” Ho Seon broke the silence. “I hate myself.”

“Hm?” Ki Wan looked up at Ho Seon, who was still miserably staring down.

“I hate myself for being so stupid. For not knowing. For not realising what was right in front of me. I hate myself for hiding from you, for not telling you the truth. We could have been honest with each other so long ago. I’m sorry you had to go through all of this, because of me.”

“It’s not your fault!” Ki Wan was appalled, how could sweet Ho Seon be blaming himself for anything in this mess? He was completely blameless, the victim in all of this – surely?

“The only reason my mother was so desperate to marry me off, the only reason my uncle was involved – and I suspect, the reason your family was paid off – was because of me. Because I would never marry. If I had been less stubborn, or maybe if my mother was less stubborn – this could have all been avoided. I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry! I’m sorry for lying to you, to your mother, to everyone. I’m sorry for taking the place of someone else – you should have married a beautiful and accomplished noble-woman like my sister. I’m sorry.”

They sat in stilted silence once again, until Ho Seon’s face began to change, and to Ki Wan’s surprise, was smiling.

“It’s ironic really.” He scoffed. Ki Wan knew Ho Seon to be good natured, but to find humour in this situation was beyond reason!

“What is?”

“That I couldn’t marry because I like men, and that – without my knowledge – I then married a man.”

“You… like…. Men?” Ki Wan was stunned. Though it made sense, given Ho Seon’s disinterest in ever consummating their marriage, he had never heard someone state such a secret in this matter of fact manner.

“Yes, well I suppose since we are sharing secrets, it shouldn’t matter if you are the first to know mine and I am the first to know yours? We’re even I guess!” He was smiling broadly.

“You’re not the first” Ki Wan remembered with a sinking heart. Just when he thought he had avoided disaster thanks to Ho Seon’s implausibly open heart, reality struck.

“Tae Hyung knows.” He continued. “That’s why I had to tell you. He caught me this afternoon, bathing – remember?”

“Oh.” Ho Seon began seriously, “I see. Well – I mean, I suppose we could speak with him? He’s and old friend. I’m sure he would understand.”

“NO!” Ki Wan startled them both in the quiet space.

“No.” He began again, whispering. “Ho Seon, this afternoon he … I don’t think he’s such a good man. I don’t think we can trust him.”

“Why not? He seemed to like you, he told me himself how jealous he was of my wife. Wait, but you said he saw you at the baths – are you sure he saw that you are a man, he seemed convinced that you were a woman when we spoke over dinner. He said how pretty you are…”

“He knows, Ho Seon, believe me – he was toying with you.”

“Don’t be paranoid! He is an important man – I doubt he has time to worry about such matters. He was here on business anyway, and why would he ask me to come to the capital as his confidant if he thought I was harbouring a secret male-bride?”

“HO SEON!” Ki Wan ripped his hands away and sat up on his haunches. “You are not listening to me! He is a cruel and power-hungry man. You may have been friends as children, but you do not know this man. He has worked his way up in the royal courts, he is ambitious and cunning. You have lived a cloistered world with your mother in the country, Ho Seon, you have no idea what kind of man you are dealing with!”

He knew he was sounding harsh. Perhaps if he were still pretending to be Hwa Jin, he would have been forced to take a softer approach to persuade Ho Seon – but now that he was speaking as Ki Wan, he felt free to speak his mind, and this onslaught of truth was more than he had spoken in months. He felt drained and his head was pounding. Sweet, sheltered Ho Seon was going to get them both in deep trouble, and Ki Wan felt like he was throwing pebbles at a stone wall. He sat back down, exhausted in a heap.

“It doesn’t matter much anyway.” Ho Seon sighed. “He is my senior, and has given me an order. So, we will move to the capital, and we will have to take each day as it comes. Together.”

“I cannot go Ho Seon. Don’t you see? There is no way I could show my face in court, it is liking walking into a bear trap. Ho Seon. We cannot leave.”

Ho Seon sat for a moment, and Ki Wan could see he was thinking deeply.

“No, I must go. It is my duty, and if I don’t – he will pester us. Perhaps if I leave, it will be enough to keep good standing, and no one will question you remaining here with my mother.”

He spoke in such a finite manner, Ki Wan knew there was no more discussion to be had. They had reached an impasse and they both knew there was no other choice. Ki Wan, suspected that Tae Hyung was playing some larger game they could not see, and who was using his old friend Ho Seon as a pawn. But he knew this was the only compromise that might save them from Tae Hyung’s curiosity or meddling. Whilst Ho Seon, believed with his naïve noble spirit, that following his superior’s orders and abandoning his family was the right thing for a gentleman to do.

It was late into the night by the time they went to bed. Ki Wan had begrudgingly helped Ho Seon pack a trunk of clothes and necessities. They spoke very little, as Ki Wan folded Ho Seon’s robes into neat little bundles and Ho Seon pored over his books, deciding which he might need to take with him to the city.

“I am leaving all these behind” he motioned to his shelves of books, “you can read as many as much as you like whilst I’m away.” He smiled warmly. He radiated his usual positive outlook, as if he was simply going on a short holiday. Whilst Ki Wan could not shake the sickening feeling of dread and fear that Ho Seon would never return.

They silently fell back into their nightly routine, almost as if the revelations of the evening had not occurred, and that they were once again just ‘husband and wife’. They changed their robes, doused the candles and tucked themselves under the covers.

Lying on their backs, staring at the ceiling, neither of them fell asleep. Ki Wan was too exhausted to speak or move, and he could feel Ho Seon lying tense beside him. He moved his hand under the blanket slightly, and felt Ho Seon shift too. Soon, the back of their hands were touching under the blankets. Ki Wan closed his eyes, and focused on the single point of connection between his skin and Ho Seon’s. Ho Seon’s skin was warm and smooth, and if he focused harder he could imagine warmth radiating from that single point outwards throughout his own body. Ho Seon’s hand moved slightly, and he carefully laced his fingers with Ki Wan’s. Ki Wan wondered, if he turned his head slightly, would Ho Seon be looking at him too? Would their eyes meet? What would happen if he leaned closer…? But they remained still and silent, holding hands under the covers, and Ki Wan felt his own breathing begin to match Ho Seon’s until he slowly drifted off to sleep.

~ ~ ~

Early in the morning, at the news of Ho Seon’s imminent departure, his mother kicked up a fuss over breakfast. Demanding to know when this decision had been made, and by whom – she was quickly silenced by the notion of a “royal decree” and Tae Hyung’s position as Defence Minister.

“I’m sorry Eomma,” Ho Seon pleaded, “I didn’t want to leave but I must, it’s my duty. I will come home soon I promise!”

“And what of your wife?!” She interrupted. “You’re going to leave your wife here all alone! How are you going to have children if you don’t even live with your wife Ho Seon! You fool!”

“Eomeoni,” Ki Wan placated, “It’s okay, I want to stay here and look after you. I don’t want to move to court, it sounds scary and besides, I like it here with you. Please.”

Unsatisfied but suitably calmed, Ho Seon’s mother agreed to stay home with Hwa Jin. The servants took away the breakfast that had barely been touched, and all that was left was for them to see Ho Seon off at the gates.

Tae Hyung was waiting with the horses saddled up, a cart with Ho Seon’s luggage affixed behind one of them. Ho Seon went ahead to check on his horse, and Ki Wan stood in the courtyard, supporting Ho Seon’s mother on his arm. The picture of a perfect filial daughter in law. It was all too surreal, like a scene from a play that Ki Wan was watching from the crowd, rather than partaking in.

Tae Hyung came over and gave Ho Seon’s mother a formal greeting, followed by a swift farewell and a joking apology about stealing away her son. He charmed her over easily, before addressing Ki Wan beside her.

“Lady Hwa Jin. It is such a shame you couldn’t be persuaded to join your husband at court. I was so hoping to get to know you better.” Again, his charming voice was undercut with a threatening gaze in his eyes. Ki Wan did not curtsey or offer his hand, but clung to his mother-in-law stubbornly, as if completely subject to the weight of holding her up, and Tae Hyung walked away – seemingly unbothered and above it all, to mount his horse.

Ho Seon approached them, head hung low, holding his hat in his hands – as if putting it on would be too final.

“Eomma,” he pulled his mother in for a hug, her shrinking stature swallowed up in his mammoth embrace. “I’ll see you soon.”

His mother, for once, was quiet. Her pride overpowering her emotion, she pushed him away toward Ki Wan, though still clutching the robes at his waist with one hand – whether to steady herself from falling, or to stop him from leaving.

Ho Seon turned to Ki Wan, looked briefly into his face, and though it seemed at first like he was hesitating – Ho Seon suddenly dropped his hat to the ground and Ki Wan was hauled into his arms.

Ho Seon clung to him, his hands on Ki Wan’s back were grasping at the material of his dress, and he buried his face into the crook of Ki Wan’s neck. Ki Wan barely had time to respond, he reached his arms up - hooked them over the top of Ho Seon’s shoulders, let his fingers slide into Ho Seon’s hair, messing up his tight top not, and held his face against Ho Seon’s.

In that moment, he saw an alternate life before him; Their life if Tae Hyung had never arrived, if he had told Ho Seon the truth earlier, they were happy and laughing in this alternate life - two men holding each other, reading together, swimming, sleeping…

“Please.” He whispered desperately into Ho Seon’s ear. “Please come home.”

With that, Ho Seon peeled himself away, clenching his jaw and looking more serious than Ki Wan had ever seen him.

Ki Wan bent down to pick up Ho Seon’s hat. He dusted it off, and placed it carefully on Ho Seon’s head. He neatly tucked away some stray hairs, and tied the ribbons under Ho Seon’s chin – allowing his hands to linger a moment longer than necessary on Ho Seon’s chin. Ho Seon was watching him steadily, and he looked - for the first time since Ki Wan had married him – not like a boy, but like a grown man, a serious man with burdens and pain and a sense of honour – like a fire was burning behind his eyes. He leaned closer, and softly touched his lips to Ki Wan’s forehead.

Then he was gone. The horses disappeared out of the gates in a plume of dust and dirt. And Ki Wan was left standing with his mother-in-law in the empty courtyard.

~ ~ ~

At first, life in the home remained steady – Ki Wan cared for his mother-in-law and they kept each other company. He kept himself busy reading, or helping the maids with the chores. Though Ki Wan was free of his lie, and the fear of Ho Seon finding out his gender – he was filled with a new fear, that Ho Seon was lost to them forever. He could never shake the feeling of unease in his stomach, and at night, he tossed and turned, without the warmth of Ho Seon’s body beside him, or the sound of his low snoring. He lay awake imaging all sort of ill fates that could befall Ho Seon in the city. He imagined the plots of every play and story he had read, of bandits, and court intrigue, of war, poison, treason, fire.

But every fortnight a messenger arrived with a letter and a large sum of money.

“To my dear mother and my darling wife, all is well.”

It always began with this same refrain.

He would then go on to briefly update them on his work and something novel to tell them about the city, such as;

“I continue with my work with Tae Hyung on the defence of the northern border, and today I saw acrobats performing in the streets of the city! I wish you had seen them!” or “I have been tasked with a new administrative job in council, to do with military funding, it’s very dull, but last week I tried crab meat for the first time – very stringy, I would not recommend.”

It would always end the same way.

“I hope to return home soon. Your adoring son and doting husband, Ho Seon.”

And so, Ki Wan would sleep more soundly for a night, until the anxieties returned.

Seasons came and went, and the garden looked more splendid than ever as Ki Wan threw himself into its care, as his mother-in-law shouted instructions from the balcony, as she could no longer manage the physical labour herself.

The funds from Ho Seon’s new position were enough to keep the family in good food and other than Ho Seon’s sorely felt absence, life at Ryu manor was tranquil.

Then one day, the messenger stopped arriving. Perhaps there had been bad weather, his mother-in-law suggested - a landslide acorss the road perhaps?

Another fortnight passed and still no messenger. Perhaps Ho Seon had been held up at work, overrun with important court business and didn’t have a chance to write? Impossible.

Ho Seon tried to be patient, and on one evening, he half convinced himself this was some sort of cosmic sign – perhaps this was his way out? Perhaps his life as Hwa Jin was over, and he should move on? Finally, he could be free of this mundane country life, and he himself could move to the city as a nobleman – why should he wait around moping like some forlorn housewife?

But he knew he was only trying to trick himself into feeling less afraid. Somehow, without intending to – he had bound himself to this place and to Ho Seon. There was no turning back, and for all the pain he had suffered working so hard, pretending to be Ho Seon’s wife there was no way he going to let anyone else to take Ho Seon from him.

One morning, he announced to his mother-in-law that he was going to the imperial city to find Ho Seon. Though she did not seem against the idea, she was fearful for Hwa Jin’s safety.

“It’s alright Eomeoni” Ki Wan said. “I will not go as a noble-woman, but as a man. I will disguise myself as a man and no one will pay me any attention. Don’t worry, I can take care of myself.” His mother-in-law demanded that the maids pack him some food, and that he be gone for no more than a week – otherwise she herself would send out a search party.

A week gave Ki Wan very little time to find Ho Seon, as the journey itself took 2 days. But, as his mother-in-law had said, if Hwa Jin arrived to find Ho Seon in fine health, there was no reason to linger – and, alternatively, if there was a problem, and Ho Seon could not be found, or the city proved dangerous, Hwa Jin was to return immediately and they would send word to Ho Seon’s great-uncle instead.

Ki Wan wore the plainest clothes of Ho Seon’s he could find, so as not to draw attention to himself and the ride to the city was uneventful. No bandits or landslides, just other travellers and tradesmen selling their wears along the imperial road.

The city was as Ki Wan had remembered it from his childhood, busy, messy, loud, confusing and full of a horrible odour. He wasted no time, a headed directly for the palace.

On the road leading toward the imposing palace gates, beggars and dogs lined the street, stopping wealthy gentry on their way past, begging for food or money, and usually getting a slap for their efforts, or an occasional coin tossed at their feet.

Ki Wan felt sorry for them, and felt the weight of his money purse at his hip. A boisterous man with very few teeth bounded up to Ki Wan’s horse.

“Good sir! Are you feeling generous today? My friends and I are starving, a warm cup of tea would do us good – it’s cold out here at night you know Sir!?”

“Here,” Ki Wan, reached into his purse and pulled out several copper coins. “I don’t have time to treat you to a meal or tea, but I hope this will help. Please share it among your companions.”

“Oh Sir! How generous! How wonderful! What a kind fellow!” He exclaimed, and bounded back to his friends sitting by the side of the road. For beggars, Ki Wan thought, some of them looked rather well dressed – perhaps they were con artists – he thought. Though, even if they were, Ki Wan could spare the coins, and who was he to judge them – he himself was a con after-all.

He made his way up to the guards at the gates and introduced himself as a “Nobleman Ryu” who was looking for his cousin, Ryu Ho Seon who worked under the Minister of Defence, Kim Tae Hyung.” He tried to sound relaxed, yet formal and assertive, but he suspected it came across as arrogant.

The guards sent off a messenger, and Ki Wan waited patiently. Soon, the messenger returned followed by a court official – a young man in fine robes and military hat.

“Lord Ryu,” he bowed, “I’m afraid no one of your family name works or lives in the palace at this time, you must be confused.”

“And what of Lord Kim Tae Hyung, is he here?”

“I’m afraid I am not at liberty to give out such sensitive information.”

He was getting the brush off and he knew it. This was bad. Something was definitely going on. He knew he would get nowhere with these men, so headed back into the town centre.

He checked himself in to an inn, and put his horse to water before heading inside.

Sitting downstairs to eat, he tried to concoct a plan. But he knew too little. Had there been some sort of political strife, was Ho Seon caught up in some imperial controversy? Or had Tae Hyung simply done away with him? Had he ever made it to the city in the first place? Had the letters been real? His mind was racing and he began panic. He couldn’t return home like this without answers!

At the table beside him, a group of men were drinking and huddled around, talking in low tones about “royal” this and “imperial” that. Ki Wan began to listen closely.

“I heard he’s in the King’s favour. That’s why he has been promoted so many times.”

“I heard he’s sleeping with the queen, THAT’s why he’s so favoured!”

“Well that’s one way to get into the good royal graces, by getting INTO her royal graces!” They chortled together.

“My cousin said the king was so furious he demanded a purge of the imperial staff. That’s why my cousin got dismissed.”

“But wasn’t your cousin just a cook?”

“Well exactly! They just decided who was in and who was out, no trial, no reasons. At least he got out with his life! Others weren’t so lucky, I heard he beheaded half a dozen eunuchs!”

Ki Wan was trying his best to keep up with the conversation, but it was hard to hear, and he had no context for the topic of their discussion.

“But if it was Lord Kim that was in charge, how did he end up with a promotion and not punished?”

KIM TAE HYUNG?! Ki Wan tried to remain calm and listen.

“Like I said, it seems he can do no wrong by the king and queen, so he just picked some scape goats to take the fall, and the king turned a blind eye as he always does.”

This was it! Ki Wan knew there had to be a reason Tae Hyung had gone to all the trouble of riding into the country to recruit an old friend into a government position. He needed pawns he could play with and toss around. Ho Seon could be rotting away in some dungeon!

“You know what the mad king’s like, he has favourites who he treats like princesses, and everybody else is just cannon fodder.”

“What, so Lord Kim just names names and the king has them executed?”

“Not all of them, just some eunuchs. I guess the higher up people were in the court, the worse their punishment was. The lower staff like my cousin were dismissed, and some ministers and lords were tortured. Whipped, burnt, blinded, or drawn in front of the king and queen - then turned out of the palace, like old scraps.”

“All I can say is, I’ve never been so glad to be a carpenter!” They laughed nervously, and downed their drinks, before an old man a table over told them to mind their tongues unless they themselves wanted a lashing.

Ki Wan felt sick, like the world was spinning around him. Ho Seon could be anywhere! With lashings on his back! or dying of a fever, left in the gutter on the street…. Oh! OH!

He was up with a jolt, sending the contents of his table flying, the innkeeper yelling at him as he raced out the door. He ran through the city, retracing his path back to the palace. It was dusk now, and there were less carriages and horses, though he nearly got run over twice in his haste through the streets. The beggars were still there, huddled by the sides of the road like stone plinths marking the path the palace.

Ki Wan was floundering, but he stopped running, slowed to a walk, and tried to catch his breath. The man who he had given copper coins to earlier approached him excitedly.

“My friend! How nice of you to visit again! Have you come to drink with us!”

“Please” Ki Wan choked out, “I’m looking for someone.”

“Well you’re in luck my good sir, as I know everyone!”

“His name is Ryu, Ryu Ho Seon ... he’s young – my age, and tall. He used to work in the palace. Please, do you know him.”

“I don’t know any Ryu” The man scratched at his stubble, and Ki Wan’s heart sank. “But I know a Ho Seon! Maybe that’s him?!”

“Oh please! Yes, please take me to him.”

The man lead Ki Wan further down the road, chatting away merrily, whilst Ki Wan felt like he might be sick from fear and nerves. What if it wasn’t his Ho Seon? What if his Ho Seon was dead? What if it was him but he wasn’t himself, how badly injured might he be?

Down the road a way, a man was seated alone, his back against a wall, his face turned up into the setting sunlight. His eyes were covered in bandages, yellowed with dirt and brown with dried blood. The man called out to him “Hey Ho Seon!” and he turned his head toward them. It was him!

“There’s someone looking for you.”

Ki Wan could barely move. He had stopped in his tracks at the sight of Ho Seon and couldn’t make his feet move any further. The man motioned Ki Wan to go ahead, and he left them.

Ki Wan forced himself forward, shuffling slowly and Ho Seon turned his head slightly to hear better.

Ki Wan crouched down in front of Ho Seon.

“Hello.” Was all he could say.

“Hello.” Ho Seon replied, his ever-present dimples still there, playing at the corners of his lips. Even in this state, he was able to smile a little.

Ki Wan’s voice was trapped in this throat.

“My friend says you know me, Sir?” Ho Seon asked.

“Yes.” Ki Wan wanted to speak, but could barely form words around the lump in his throat.

“And how do you know me?” Ho Seon was leaning forward, reaching out his hands to find the figure in front of him.

“It’s me.” Ki Wan barely whispered, trying to hold back tears.

Ho Seon’s hands found Ki Wan’s face and he began to feel his features, delicately tracing the shape of his nose, his cheeks, his lips…

“I’m your wife.” He finally managed to choke out.

“HWA JIN!” Ho Seon hauled him in violently, Ki Wan almost fell onto Ho Seon. Ho Seon pulled Ki Wan’s face toward his, so that their foreheads were touching. All the while he moved his hands over Ki Wan, tracing his face, hugging at his shoulders.

Ki Wan was crying, and was aware of all the people watching them. But he didn’t care. He held Ho Seon tightly until the sun had set. Then he began to pull him to his feet, careful to steady him, and checking that he wasn’t injured anywhere else.

“Can you walk?”

“Of course I can walk! I have legs don’t I!?” Ho Seon laughed.

“Well sorry for asking!” Ki Wan berated, sarcastically.

“Although… I can’t read now. So, I’ll be needing those bed-time stories from now on.” He grinned, boyishly, and held onto Ki Wan’s arm for guidance.

“Come on.” Ki Wan rolled his eyes, “Let’s go home.”

...

The End

Or maybe not... if I have time to come back to it maybe I’ll write some more or fill in some blanks, because this was very rushed, today was my only day off and I was waiting for the finale to air before I wrote it haha Hope you guys enjoyed it! as you can tell The King and the Clown is my favourite movie of all time and no I will not be taking criticism for using blindness as a plot device, because this is a melodramatic historical fanfic, thank you. Hope you enjoyed the angst, sorry I couldn’t make it longer!

#nobleman ryu's wedding #nobleman ryus wedding #korean bl #bl series #bl fanfic #fanfic #kang in soo #lee sejin #choi ki wan #ryu ho seon #wetv

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pinkykitten · 4 years

Text

everything stays

chapter 1 - blood on her hands :: gisela klein [ an aot oc story ]

note: hey guys i know its been a rlly long time since ive posted anything and u may be rlly let down and underwhelmed that ive chosen to write a aot oc instead of fanfic but its what i want to write and i rlly love my oc and wanna give her some love and some praise and let u a little in how i see her. im sorry i havent posted a lot im going to try to write more and who knows i may or may not finish this but its ok imma try lol but life sometimes is a butthole. i hope you love her as much as i do an tysm for taking time out of ur day to read this story. enjoy!

Even though she knew that this day would have to come and that it was near, it still was a surprise for her. She was taken aback. It didn’t make sense and add up to her; she was trained for this since she was little; preparing mentally and physically for phase one of the plan; and the day appeared through the trees; past the wall; the opportunity was present; the fate of the people were waiting in their hands; and yet she felt a sense of evilness within her heart. Was this right? But there was no time.

The day was written down in history. The stories were spread around like a disease. Heights, jaws, teeth, feet, stench, the screams. If they survived that nightmare they were seen as a tough soldier; as someone that was applauded because they probably had PTSD and had to see everyday as a reason within themselves or God that they were alive. That maybe just maybe they were saved for a reason; for a purpose. That is what Gisela Klein thought. Maybe there was something greater out there for her to do, to accomplish and that was why she saw another day; breathed another breath.

But one thing was for sure. Forgiveness would never come her way; she would never expect it. To be a warrior she had to endure the horror; the pain; feelings of worthlessness; and friendships lost.

This is the story of the 10th finding titan; the Slash Titan.

The pounding of her heart rang through her ears. It had taken everything for her to keep going on this journey; to continue on the path to and through Hell. She felt a loss within her and the light in her eyes died out. The loss of her friend made it hard for her to function. To keep her head in the game and in the plan.

She sighed as she stared at her hands. Broken and bruised like her heart; scars and scratches scattered on her skin. Her bite mark deeply engraved into her flesh. She heaved a huge sigh. Ready to give death a handshake and make a deal with the devil. Panic was rising in her chest from her stomach, almost ready to throw up.

As she thought about her family back home she realized there was no other way; she had to do this. In order to be with her family, to save them she had to do the one thing she was trained to do.

Kill.

A lightning strike shot over the wall. The wall that kept the monsters away and at bay. Something was wrong; the air seemed to change. The lightning strike caused a boom, clap and the ground started to shake.

Bertholdt drew his leg back and with full force swung his leg forward, knocking a hole into the wall that was impenetrable. Many people flew back from the wind of the blow and some were crushed by the debris of the wall.

Many were going to die; but it’s what needed to be done.

The titans were called.

Finally the titans entered the devils homes and started to rip up their lives. “This is right, this is right.” Gisela had to keep reminding herself. “For my family.” And something snapped within her. The image of her mother, tortured, flashed in her mind. And suddenly everything was worth it. “No regrets.”

Gisela eyed Reiner, an agreement, a sign. She exhaled and in a quick motion placed her hand to her mouth and bit into it. In a spark she transformed into her titan form. Her eyes were much like a cats, sharp. She was made into the slash titan, she was chosen for this program. Her titans fingers were like sharp knives, able to cut any object or person. They hung a little past her knees.

Reiner then transformed and both stomped past the hole. Many citizens glanced up, horrified. Gisela and Reiner were titans never seen before.

She nodded to Reiner, bent down and started to pick up debris and pieces of houses to throw over the bigger wall. The chunks started to smash against people. Blood splattering everywhere. Gisela almost wanted to close her eyes from the immense amount of dead bodies piled on top of others, graves upon graves.

She was hauling boulders as high and fast as she could. Her titan held a high amount of power and strength. Being slim, muscular and as tall as the armored titan and female titan. Reiner took a step back and gained his speed to go onward to destroy the bigger wall.

“Fire!” Their soldiers cried out. Fear evident on their face. They shot their cannons, not even slowing down Reiner. Gisela continued flinging, wanting to create a path for Reiner. She was faster than before and many of her hits flattened the men in the front lines. Their screams and cries loud.

“Close the gate!” They tried, it was their last hope to save humanity. But it was not enough. Reiner broke the wall and killed those running and they went flying. They reached even higher than Gisela. It astounded her almost, they seemed like helpless birds flying high in the sky; but that thought was quickly wiped clean because the second they flew up in the air they came straight down with much force that many parts of their bodies broke.

Reiner did what he needed to do, he opened up a way for the titans to get in and they were swarming by the bunches.

In the distance, the survivors fled in boats across the river to get into the other walls. Gisela put herself in their shoes for a second. They had reason to be scared. Everything they have ever known was gone; their houses, loved ones, food, a place to feel the most comfortable you can feel despite situations; it was all gone. Gisela shook the thought out, not caring about these cruel humans feelings. They had none. No emotions. Gisela had to believe that thought; what she was told, she had to believe it with all her heart, or else what was real?

They waited till they were able to not be seen and Gisela turned human first and then so did Reiner. The four of them hopped on the boat. Talking amongst themselves. The wind howled through the vacant homes. Destruction everywhere. Gisela looked around her setting and saw a little girl had been crushed because a tree fell on her, her doll mere inches away from her grasp. She died with her eyes open; almost looking into Gisela’s soul through the eyes. Gisela’s body trembled and she threw up.

“Don’t.”

Gisela looked up to see Reiner wiping blood and debris off his clothes. He picked his sleeve and turned Gisela’s head to look away, he wiped her chin and mouth off the puke. He saw the trauma in her eyes and felt guilty. But it’s what needed to be done. He kept telling himself that the more he did this the more he would understand and get used to it. It was still all new to her and he had to be strong for her. He knelt in front of her small frame. “It’s not your fault. They needed to die. We are in this together. You don’t need them. Look at me.”

Gisela looked into his eyes, away from the sadness. His eyes carried the feeling of wanting to be wanted. That was always what Reiner wanted. But they also had fear in his eyes.

“Stop acting like you’re in control when I know how sick you feel. I know how afraid you are Reiner.”

He paused and took a look at his hands and others surrounding him. “You’re right. But I made a promise to Marcel.”

They joined the other citizens arriving at the food reserves. The master of disguise was needed in this mission. People needed to see four hungry, depressed children that survived the fall of their homes, not mass murderers.

Annie was only able to fetch two loaves. “Alright, who's the most hungry?”

“You girls should eat, you’re more feeble.” Bertholdt sat on a crate, pointing to Gisela and Annie.

Annie tsked, moving a bang from her eyes, “who says girls are more feeble? I recall kicking your ass all those times in training.”

“You guys can eat it, I’m not hungry.” Gisela sat on the other crate and saw the chaos of the crowds. A boy caught her interest. He had dark brown hair, tan skin, and light blue green eyes. He was having bread shoved in his mouth and he seemed to have such a strong personality to him. If only Gisela felt so strongly about her motive and her placement in this life.

“You really should eat, you need your energy after all you did.” Annie broke all the loaves in half and shared it amongst the four of you. “It’s not much but at least it's something.”

Gisela sighed, “you’re right. Thanks.”

After that day there was land given to only a few refugees but there were too many of them. Luckily the four of them had a piece of land that was enough until further inching themselves within society. Through that whole span each day was getting easier and easier living with the lies and day by day Gisela felt more at sure with herself and knowing that she could fulfill this mission. Pills and alcohol helped the pain and ease the thoughts. She taught herself to put a gap between what she came here to do and feelings. She told herself every day that nobody else mattered except her family and Reiner. She trained her brain to not care, to not have strings attached or any love for anything. It was all a play, all a rehearsal for when the curtain would fall. She was readying herself for that fall. Everyday she educated herself more on these scums. What they liked, wanted, needed, craved for, and what they craved more than ever in their life was freedom.

She trained her body as if it were her last day, barely getting sleep. The face of her mother haunting her every night making her get up at three in the morning to do pushups or sit ups. Not only was her mind getting stronger but also her body. Even Reiner would make jokes noticing the muscles that would appear. The six pack that formed on her stomach. Her thighs growing tight and firm, her arms growing stronger. The sweat growing on her forehead longer.

With her body growing her relationship with Reiner also changed. They no longer were the tiny children that didn’t understand anatomy or the air between two people. Reiner and Gisela’s relationship was of being flirty, sharing a few kisses here and there, trying to be a couple but then yelling at each other and breaking it up and realizing maybe this isn’t right a million times. Even Bertholdt and Annie were getting tired of their outbursts. But each time they made up to be friends only and then the cycle started where the feelings came in the way and they wanted to be more. They would tease each other, especially Reiner. They were each other's best friends. Gisela was like one of the boys, loud, obnoxious, burping all the time, Reiner would get a look at her and smirk thinking he taught her well. When Reiner looked at her he felt at home and that everything was going to be okay. Her nightmares continued and each time Reiner would come to her room and hold her, let her cry into his arms. She felt he was the only person that knew her pain.

Gisela understood many things in life and for once she understood her life here, she understood why she was born and chosen.

It was the following year and in order to get closer to finding the founding titan the four became part of the 104th cadet corps.

“Are you ready to train more?” Gisela nudged Reiner, eyebrow raised.

“What do you mean train more? This is going to be a new but scary experience honestly.” Reiner spoke as if he was a different person. As if he didn’t have a life outside of the walls.

“Reiner?” Gisela placed her hand on his shoulder, steadying him. He looked fine on the outside but Gisela knew the issues were inside, his mind. She knew this was becoming disastrous to him, he was starting to have almost two personalities, two lives, two worlds, two people. Gisela tried to tell Annie or Bertholdt, they saw it too but there was nothing they could do.

All that Gisela could do was smile as they made their way to the first day of training.

note: again ty y’all sm!!!! If u liked it lmk and this is kinda new for me cuz I usually don’t post my ocs stories here or much at all but I’m rlly excited for y’all to see her and for y’all to know this oc of mine and hopefully accept her ❤️

Taglist: @witchofinterest @chlobenet @eddysocs @fpxloomis @whctsherncme-archive @ocfairygodmother @fandomchick80 @ocappreciationtag

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littlesparklight · 4 years

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The Sea God’s Children

Three different conversations between Zeus and Poseidon, about some of the latter’s children and the problems they cause.

"All right, why am I still here, Zeus?" Poseidon frowned as he leaned back against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest. "The meeting is over, Ares is back where he should be, and I'd like to return to my palace and my family."

Zeus, sitting down on a nearby couch before he even acknowledged Poseidon after leading him off to this room, was caught near to mimicking Poseidon's crossed arms and instead sat back, staring up at Poseidon with dark eyes.

"I think you ought to apologise to Ares."

"What? Why?"

"What's this I hear now? Why? And here I thought you liked Ares," Zeus said, the smirk toothy and nearly overtaking his annoyance. His tone of voice was terribly pointed. "You were the one who vouchsafed for him with Hephaistos, after all."

"None of your business as to why I did so, Zeus." Poseidon, losing against Zeus' knowing stare, looked away. There was the faintest of blushes threatening to unman him past his tan. "That has nothing to do with this, and I thought you didn't like Ares. It wasn't like you were worried until Hermes told us he had been bound."

"I care little for Ares' work, and I find little interest in hearing about it, the pleasure he takes in it, or knowing of his whereabouts as he goes about it," Zeus snapped, back onto his feet now and eyes narrowed. "He can be gone for quite some length of time, and up until now that has never been an issue before, Poseidon. That does not mean I want my son in a situation that left him worse than if he had perjured himself under an oath to Styx!"

Zeus stomped up into the middle of the room before he caught himself as Poseidon turned to him, great, muscled arms falling to his sides in loose readiness, hands flexing and blue eyes stormy.

"That's still no---"

"They were your sons, Poseidon," Zeus growled, settling back but towering, arms crossed over his chest now as he stared his younger-and-older brother down. "Your sons who assaulted Olympos and thought to lay claim both to my wife and daughter, a daughter who has no interest in sex, men or married life to such a degree she has oathed to remain unwed. Your sons who decided the best method of going about their plan was removing one of our most unpleasant but unfortunately necessary and very ardent defenses. <i>Apologise to my son</i> for the pain your children caused him, brother."

The rulers of two thirds of the sphere stared at each other much like territorial lions at the edge of each territory, weighing the options of the merit in attacking the other and ripping their rival from both land and lionesses. Poseidon was the first to look away.

"... Fine. I'll go do that now, then."

*** "You know, I find it quite interesting you've ended up with one son, one that's much more suitable for regular society, ridding the world of a number of your sons who are a cruel plague on their fellow humans," Zeus said, voice idle as he looked out over the cliff, clouds swirling beyond and covering the view of the ground so very far beneath.

"Your point?" Poseidon grunted, mouth twisting. The only reason he even was annoyed by the topic was that Zeus wouldn't be bringing this up to congratulate Theseus. Otherwise Poseidon would've been more than pleased to lean into his growing pride.

"My point, Poseidon, is I'm wondering why this keeps happening. You wouldn't deal with Charybdis and so I had to do it, Ares had to suffer for your indiscretions, and these criminals have been plaguing Athens' surro..." As very rarely happened, Zeus trailed off in the middle of his sentence and glanced to Poseidon. "Did you intentionally beget them there as another step of your grudge against Athena, Poseidon?"

"I go where my heart takes me as much as you do, so how is it my fault they're all around Athens?" Poseidon said, near lyrical in his virtuous innocence on the matter. If there was even the tiniest of gleam to his eyes, Zeus could do little but let it go. "And besides, a couple of Ares' sons are as ill-fitting as mine, why don't you complain to him about them?"

"We're not talking about Ares at the moment, and whyever do you imagine I haven't? I expect little else of him," Zeus grunted, eyes narrow but hardly stung by Poseidon's attempt at deflecting his attention. He really did expect little else of Ares.

"Oh, I forgot. It's you and Ares." Poseidon snorted and waved a hand. "Of course you have. Please continue, then."

"All I'm wondering, is why half of your children are as fine as any one of us could ask for to beget, kings and princes to lead their fellow mortals, and then the other half - more than the other half, if we should account for the ones who become fathers of their own peoples, human-eating people, Poseidon, are like these."

"Perhaps I'm merely more in tune with our nature, Zeus." Poseidon smiled, somewhere between smug and sharp like his trident, quiet like the hidden current along a beach which might rip out the unwary far beyond easy reach of the safety of land. "The seas answers to none but themselves."

"And obviously that's something to be pleased for," Zeus said, shooting Poseidon a lingering, exasperated side-eye.

Poseidon only smirked and shrugged, hooking his hands behind his head.

*** "You can't be against me taking out satisfaction for the treatment of my son." Poseidon eyed his brother, younger and older as he was, tension turning his ichor dark and his gut tight, but there was, surprisingly, no judgement on Zeus' face.

"Once again, your human-eating son." Of course Zeus did have to point that out. He was so sore about such matters. He seemed content for then, though, and sighed, shaking his head and setting his hair to a swaying flow that made Poseidon think of waves. "But no. Odysseus has brought his late homecoming onto himself, as little as it pleases Athena. Don't smirk, Poseidon."

"I am the very picture of grave calm and seriousness, certainly," Poseidon protested, the asseveration warm and almost covering for the smirk that was indeed lurking in the corners of his lips. "Now, if I'm right in my anger, what's with that sour expression? You look like when you lose to me when we're sparring."

"When we were young. I haven't lost to you in ages. And the issue isn't Odysseus or your right to avenge your son," Zeus said and then, surprisingly, ran a hand through his hair, the tight broadness of his shoulders slumping as if weighed down for a moment. Only a very brief one, and then they were firm once more as Zeus turned to meet Poseidon's gaze once more. "I should've led Herakles to dealing with both these younger Kyklopes and the Laistrygonians long before this, much like he did Antaios."

Hissing, Poseidon straightened up. "Zeu---"

"I've been delaying that course of action." Zeus interrupted him, and the only reason Poseidon held himself back at all was the flat seriousness on Zeus' face, plain to see. "You've already lost a number through the years, and I didn't wish to force you to loose all in such a short time, but you are the architect of your own monstrous children, Poseidon. Medusa was ridiculous enough, but you have bedded other daughters of Phorkys and Keto, and you have gone to Gaia, not in accident but approaching her with intent. The result has been predicable, of course, but that means you must know they cannot be left in the world."

"You like Pegasus," Poseidon said, lips pressed thin, but he had little defense for the rest. Not that he felt any shame; if Zeus found no charm in those ladies, he would gladly go share their beds, and Gaia had been one of Poseidon's most thrilling experiences ever, and none of this spilling on the ground for him! Hence why there'd been several children that way.

"Ganymede likes Pegasus, undoubtedly charmed for the same reasons your son was," Zeus said with a groan as he scrubbed his face. "I'm not sure what it is about the wings, since it's not as if the other horses can't fly as well. You're lucky he agreed to behaving, and Ganymede is patient enough he charmed that animal on his own merits."

Zeus dropped his hand, and Poseidon, though he smirked in the face of the dark-eyed expression, like swirling clouds gathering to a severe thunderstorm, Poseidon knew that if Pegasus had actually gotten a chance to injure the stunning youth both he and the winged horse would've come to regret it.

"And Pegasus hasn't been among mortals for decades now, which was unavoidable if he shouldn't have ended up like his brother. Arion hasn't been trouble, but him still being alive is clear enough for what he is, so Demeter is looking to fetch him to Olympos," Zeus continued after a couple moments of weighted silence. The warning on his face left for another darkness entirely, contemplative and all the worse for that. "These others, thou---"

"A little longer, Zeus. That's all I ask. A little more time." Poseidon held a hand out, feeling unaccountably upset at the turn of this conversation. He wasn't sure he was willing to let it go so easily, for surely there was a place for these beings as well? Zeus stared down at him with a silver stare that nearly glowed in the dying afternoon's light, and slowly shook his head.

"You've already used almost all the time I've been able to give you, Poseidon."

#greek mythology #greek gods #zeus #poseidon #lightart

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blonde-toddy · 4 years

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Random and Not So Random thoughts while watching Bridgerton: Season 1, Episode 2

Childbirth scenes are always fun right?

I'm guessing this is the Dukes mother.

Oh he's one of those 'give me a son' types.

Yep they the Dukes parents.

Lady Danbury laying down the law wherever she goes....y'all gonna let her see her friend!

His mother died in childbirth.....fucking hell.

At least he got a son, I guess.

Simon ......... Bassett

Sad, pensive Simon....still hot.

The queen needs all the tea!

Who's that your Grace? Tis not Daphne. You better go promenade mf!

Violet and Danbury still plotting.....

"Only five minutes alone with you in a drawing room...." Jesus! Honey she felt that....and he knew he flexed a lil too hard on that one. But fuck me, it was hot!

Yes Eloise, you're a Jo March. We fucking get it. Womaning is hard and societal expectations are bullshit. They really laid it on thick with her and I hope she becomes a bit more multidimensional.

Hold up. These poor girls don't even know where babies come from. Oh the chastity of it all.

Not that Penelope out here telling Marinas business low key.

Damn....her non-hoe brothers are lightweight roasting her. Ya sis is a baddie! Get with it.

They really don't tell these women shit about sex. Lil brother out here trying to spill the tea though. VIOLET! TALK! TO! YOUR! DAUGHTERS!

Awe shit. Daphne got fans again.......oh and here comes creepy fucking Berbrooke.

Damn Anthony you really calling her disrespectful while you out here trying to sell her like cattle to Berbrooke. Fuck. Off.

Oh it's definitely immaturity. I can't keep on with Anthony's ass. Something has got to shake.

Oh, Violet....you want it to be the Duke.

Shirtless Duke! Yes, please.

"A great deal goes on in a mind as quick as mine." Gawd help me. Kick his ass Simon! Protect your situationship partner!

Poor baby Simon can't speak so well......oh and his daddy is EVIL evil.

Penelope trying to be friendly with the expectant. She needs answers. But DAMN! Even Marina won't explain sex. Somebody help these women. Love does not impregnate. I fucking can't.

The queen of shade appears bored by a lack of new tea.

Get your eggs Daphne!

Violet gets to have tea with the queen....so that means Daphne wears diamonds to tonight's ball. Okay.

Ok Queen Danbury. Get the Duke in line.

Aww Lady Danbury and little Simon! She's here to give that boy the love he deserves. Look at this Queen Fairy GODMOTHER! I just adore her. She really is the queen to me.

Danbury blocking Anthony's attempts at cockblocking is big energy. I want Ratafia now. Let me go Google what in the hell that is and where to find it.

I feel like that lil spin Simon did was a bit of improv, but I liked it.....and you can't tell me they weren't having a real life ball dancing together in that scene. That was legit laughter between friends. I'm here for it. They brought the energy in that dance.

Here goes Anthony's ass trying to fuck it up again. This time he wants middle brothers help. Middle brother just wants to chill, not dance with his sister, bro. I like middle brother. Yes I know his name is Benedict.

Simon shading Berbrooke is gold. Calling him the fuck out was even better.

Oh Anthony....took you long enough.

Daphne is not here to have her honor protected by ANY MAN. I love this bitch. Simon was just trying to help though.

Danbury planting her lil seeds. This is her world. We just wish we lived in it.

Simons going to take the air....ah walk home. Because nothing bad ever happens on a dark walk home.

This mf Berbrooke just will not stop. He gets more disgusting with each interaction, I swear. But what you're not gonna do, is keep disrespecting Daphne. The Duke out here growling at this mf.

Ooooh I love a good head butt!

I stan a fake couple who beat up the same perv.

Oh now this EVIL mf.

You trying to prove yourself. Poor baby.

Old dogs. New tricks. We all know the saying. That mf man is awful. I see some daddy issues coming to the story. That's probably why he stopped himself from completely pulverizing Berbrooke. He doesn't want to be cruel like his father.

Sad reflective Simon.....hiding his pain literally and figuratively.

Damn, Whistledown, Daphne does not want Berbrooke. Everybody knows that. Stop trying to make it a thing.

"It does not matter what the Duke thinks, Rose." Sure, Jan.

I'm sick of this basket weave haired bitch.

Oh Portia.

Penelope and Eloise still knowing nothing about sex is depressing.

Fuck off Anthony. Daphne is done with your fuckery...and she's calling you tf out. I'll say it again, Daphne is my bitch.

Heyyyyy Simon!

Oooof Daphne sees that bruised up hand. You really gonna lie and say boxing. Boy bye.

Oooooh the cuff-buttoning and banter with instense eye contact. KEEP FEEDING ME!

Oh here comes this mf Berbrooke. Duke, you're busted. Simon ready to throw hands again. This hoe ass mf is really trying to force a wedding.

Daphne really just gonna give up. Aw naw.

Violet, God bless you, but your vague ass speech does not help.

Ooooh smoking Eloise. I love a good vice.....oh and sibling bonding. This is nice.

I think Simon likes getting knocked around. There's something very masochistic about the way he seems to enjoy it. He's sad about Daphne having to marry Berbrooke and can't express that in the way he should or would like to....More on this later, I'm sure.

Violet and the queen.....and the queen likes nose play. Okay then.

Ohhhh the queen is basically telling Violet that Daphne better get things rolling with the Duke for the notoriety and popularity it would provide her family.

So why tf are you inviting Berbrookes raggedy ass mama over for tea? This bitch. You can definitely see why her son is so fucked up.

Kippers on Rye. No ma'am.

Ahhhh Violet was fishing for a scandal to stop the Berbrooke marriage. Makes sense.

Well, mission accomplished. No thanks to Anthony.

Violet stays at his neck though.

I really don't like Marina being all confined.

Sisterly bonding maybe? Daphne dropping knowledge and optimism on Eloise.

Well shit, deflate that balloon.

*In My Blood (Instrumental) plays*

Aaaand she's back on the arm of the Duke.

Their chemistry is mind blowing. Like they could melt my screen just looking at each other.

"Call me by my name" because 'Call me by your Name' could never.

Gawd the way he says her name. That's it. I want Daphne to be my name now.

The intimacy of that bruised hand on her bare shoulder - ICONIC.

Lady Danbury knows all and jealous Simon has entered the room.

Not his evil ass daddy again.

Oh fuck Simon. Why would you make a promise like that?! Thats OBVIOUSLY coming back around on you. Who tf are you really hurting in avowing never to marry or have children?!

But the "Speak, you fucking monster," was everything. Full circle.

#bridgerton #bridgerton reaction #bridgerton season 1 #simon bassett #daphne bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #lady danbury #benedict bridgerton #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #eloise bridgerton #simon x daphne #daphne x simon

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princessconsuelapark · 4 years

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my ultimate Sam and Dean are soulmates playlist | 61 songs, 3 hr 59 min

I started putting this together over my summer SPN re-watch, and I thought I'd share it with you all, so we can all cry over our Wincest feels together. It has all the usual cliché songs, and some of my own favourites. (Very country-heavy, so if that's not your thing proceed with caution.) I'm a writer, so lyrics are very important to me - I linked them for every song. All songs are individually YouTube linked, alternatively you can find the Spotify version above. I included some comments and explanations for all my choices, as well as quotes from the show. Happy listening! | Last updated: 18 November 2020

Carry On My Wayward Son by Supernatural: The Musical Cast // lyrics // Cliché and all that, but a good place to start.

Somewhere Only We Know by Lily Allen // lyrics // Even as children - as tumultuous and layered their relationship has always been - it was just the two of them, alone, in their own little world. I Found by Amber Run // lyrics // I found love where it wasn't supposed to be.

Fade Into You by Mazzy Star // lyrics // Unhealthily codependent Weecest vibes.

I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys // lyrics // Secrets I have held in my heart / Are harder to hide than I thought. Something's Gotta Give by Christian Kane // lyrics // Wanting to get out of town as a metaphor for Dean wanting to act on his feelings for Sam? Yes, please. Christian Kane being a country god? Absolutely. The fact that this man was actually on SPN as Dean’s freaking love interest, and Jensen and him got to sing together still makes me the happiest person on this planet.

Don't You Wanna Fall by Frankie Ballard // lyrics // So, I love the lines Fall down here where an angel should know better than / To walk around this world with me, because god, Dean so often thinks he belongs in Hell, and is terrified of forcing his little brother into anything he doesn’t want. But still, he can’t stop himself: Don’t you wanna fall? (Shoutout to any Destiel shippers out there, because what a perfect song for you guys too, wow.) Thinking of You by Christian Kane // lyrics // Dean, just before Sam leaves for Stanford. (Link is for the Leverage version, because I love that show, and because Eliot Spencer is an angel. Funnily enough, Alona Tal was actually in that very episode, and did actually sing this song - you can find that here.) Hold On by Limp Bizkit // lyrics // I'm waiting for you, I know you're leaving / I'll still adore you, you never need me. LOST BOY by Troye Sivan // lyrics // Thinking about little Sammy’s stolen college admissions guide. Arms of a Stranger by Niall Horan // lyrics // Some jealous!Dean, while Sam is at Stanford angst.

Walking Away by Lifehouse // lyrics // Silence is all we have to give / And the memories of a life I wish we'd lived.

San Francisco by Niall Horan // lyrics // Listen, it’s a song about pining and not being able to let go and love in San Francisco. I mean, where do you expect my mind to go? Stanford Wincest all the way. How Did You Know? by Jedward // lyrics // I don’t wanna hear a bad word about Jedward, they are good lads. It’s a cheesy song, but hey, I love it. Sam comes back. Well, here I am / I couldn't stay gone. Drive by Halsey // lyrics // All we do is drive / All we do is think about the feelings that we hide. And the California never felt like home to me line! So perfect. "We made a hell of a team back there." (01x01 Pilot) Belong by X Ambassadors // lyrics // This is where Sam belongs, really. Riding shotgun, in his brother’s car, on the open road. Link is a fanvid that makes me feel things. Go and watch it, because it’s everything.

You Could Be Happy by Snow Patrol // lyrics // “Sam, you were right. You gotta do your own thing. You gotta live your own life.” (01x11 Scarecrow) Do the things that you always wanted to / Without me there to hold you back, don't think, just do.

Big Black Car by Gregory Alan Isakov // lyrics // "Who was that?" "My brother." "What did he say?" "Goodbye." That soft, disbelieving, confused look on Sam's face when Dean tells him he's proud of him. When it turns out Dean loves him enough to let him go. It should make him feel happy and free, it should make him loathe his childhood, defiance should fill him to the brim. Instead it makes him run straight back to Dean. (01x11 Scarecrow) Hey Brother by Avicii // lyrics // Faith. (01x12) Link is a fanvid, because reasons. Oh, if the sky comes falling down, for you / There's nothing in this world I wouldn't do. Sober Me Up by Frankie Ballard // lyrics // Sam always seems to make the world all fall into place. (Sort of 02x03 Bloodlust vibes?) But baby when you kiss me all the demons seem to disappear.

Always Gold by Radical Face // lyrics // “Killing this demon comes first, before me, before everything.” “No, sir. Not before everything.” (02x07 The Usual Suspects) And they said you were the crooked kind / And that you'd never have no worth / But you were always gold to me. Sold My Soul by Zakk Wylde // lyrics // Bit on the nose, but my god, how fucking real. (02x22 All Hell Breaks Loose: Part 2) Let Me Sign by Kirk Matthews // lyrics // "Well, then let it end!" & "I'm gonna take care of you." (02x22 All Hell Breaks Loose: Part 2) Follow You by Bring Me The Horizon // lyrics // “I mean, you sacrifice everything for me. Don’t you think I’d do the same for you? You’re my big brother. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” (02x22 All Hell Breaks Loose: Part 2) Say Something by A Great Big World // lyrics // "I just wish you'd drop the show and be my brother again. Cause... just cause." (03x07 Fresh Blood) Take Me To Church by Hozier // lyrics // “This obsession to save Dean? The way you two keep sacrificing yourselves for each other? […] Dean’s your weakness. And the bad guys know it, too.” (03x11 Mystery Spot) Outlaws of Love by Adam Lambert // lyrics // "You're my weak spot. And I'm yours." (03x16 No Rest for the Wicked) Everywhere we go we're looking for the sun / Nowhere to grow old, we're always on the run / They say we'll rot in Hell, but I don't think we will / They've branded us enough, "Outlaws of Love". Wanted Dead Or Alive by Bon Jovi // lyrics // Well, I had to include this one, for obvious reasons. (03x16 No Rest for the Wicked) In Other Words by Ben Kweller // lyrics // Dean's going to Hell. Sam's not okay. In his eyes I see the fear. Real With Me by Cady Groves // lyrics // Dean is not dealing well with remembering Hell. Sam is upset that he's not opening up. And it was never about what you were not / But I don't know how much longer I can hold on. Devil's Backbone by The Civil Wars // lyrics // None of it matters. Leaving for Stanford, choosing Ruby, the demon blood, that he’s Hell’s chosen. Dean will always come for his brother, no matter what. Stay by Florida Georgia Line // lyrics // Sam leaves. It's fucked up. "Hey, you, uh... wanna take the Impala?" Dean doesn’t trust him, not like he used to, but he would say anything to make him stay. (05x02 Good God, Y’all) Hotel Room by Calum Scott // lyrics // They die in a motel room. They find out they share a Heaven. Sam can't find the words to explain. He wishes Dean would just give him time. (05x04 The End) So I kind of wrote a ficlet about this...? Read it if you fancy. Here Tonight by Brett Young // lyrics // The Wincestiest Wincest song to ever Wincest. The lyrics! Sometimes they can just take a minute to sit on the hood of the Impala and watch the stars, Apocalypse be damned.

I Hold On by Dierks Bentley // lyrics // “Sam, it’s okay. It’s okay, I’m here, I’m here. I’m not gonna leave you.” (05x22 Swan Song) Dean believes in his brother, and I’m a sucker for pick-up truck metaphors Lifeboats by Snow Patrol // lyrics // The look on Dean's face when he hugs Sam, when he realises that Sam's back, that he's alive. (06x01 Exile on Main St.) Potentially also some Purgatory vibes. Wild Horses by The Rolling Stones // lyrics // The moment Sam turned up on his doorstep, there was no question he'd choose him. Choose him over Lisa and Ben. Choose him over everyone. “But the minute he walked through that door, I knew. It was over. You two have the most unhealthy, tangled-up, crazy thing I've ever seen. And as long as he's in your life, you're never gonna be happy.” (06x06 You Can’t Handle The Truth) Heavydirtysoul by twenty one pilots // lyrics // “Pick one... Sam’s soul or Adam’s.” “Sam.” (06x11 Appointment in Samarra)

H.O.L.Y. by Florida Georgia Line // lyrics // Oh, this song. A bit of religious irony and whatnot, but my god. The lyrics are everything. You're the healing hands where it used to hurt immediately makes me think of how Dean helped Sam turn the pain from his scar on his palm into “stone number one, and build on it”. (07x02 Hello, Cruel World) I mean, Sam can't even tell what's real anymore, but he trusts his brother. Blindly and with everything he has, because that's who he is. But then there’s also Dean making his promise in the church, and Sam choosing him over dying in 09x01 (I Think I’m Gonna Like It Here). God. Just. I love this song for Sam and Dean.

Through The Dark by One Direction // lyrics // "We'll figure it out, okay? Just like we always do." (08x23 Sacrifice) Leave Out All The Rest by Linkin Park // lyrics // Sam is okay with sacrificing himself. He is ready to die. When my time comes / Forget the wrong that I've done. Demolition Lovers by My Chemical Romance // lyrics // “There is nothing, past or present, that I would put in front of you... I need you to see that." (08x23 Sacrifice) Okay, but look at the lyrics, and try and convince me this song is not about Sam and Dean. Love Will Tear Us Apart by Fall Out Boy // lyrics // "You wanna know what I confessed in there?" (08x23 Sacrifice) TALK ME DOWN by Troye Sivan // lyrics // The look in Sam’s eyes changes, his face falls. "How do I stop?" He chooses Dean like he always does. (08x23 Sacrifice) Brother by Kodaline // lyrics // “Come on. You and Dean? That’s something special, don’t you think?” (09x08 Rock and a Hard Place) Link is a gorgeous fanvid, go watch it and cry. Little Lion Man by Mumford & Sons // lyrics // Dean really messed up this time. Gadreel fall out stuff. Sam breaks up with him in a motel car park in Wisconsin. (09x12 Sharp Teeth)

better off by Jeremy Zucker & Chelsea Cutler // lyrics // "Something's broken here, Dean." (09x12 Sharp Teeth) & "No, Dean, I wouldn't." (09x13 The Purge)

I Can't Go On Without You by KALEO // lyrics // Sam taking Dean’s body home, laying him on his bed, drinking by himself in the dark. (09x23 Do You Believe in Miracles) I Won't Give Up by Noah Guthrie // lyrics // "I am going to save my brother." (10x01 Black) Sam never gives up on Dean. Brother by NEEDTOBREATHE ft. Gavin DeGraw // lyrics // “I never even said thank you, so…” “You don’t ever have to say that, not to me.” (10x04 Paper Moon) Link is another beautiful fanvid, because I can’t help myself. Sittin' Pretty by Florida Georgia Line // lyrics // Sam's sunshine and he’s endless planes of warm skin, soft long hair, and sometimes Dean looks at him. Really looks at him. (No, okay, but the Chevy line really made it for me.) Blood Brothers by Luke Bryan // lyrics // "I don’t need a symbol to remind me how I feel about my brother.” and "The two of us against the world!” "What she said.” (10x05 Fan Fiction) I don’t know, country songs just make me think of Sam and Dean, okay.

I Will Follow You Into The Dark by Daniela Andrade // lyrics // “This is my life. I love it. But I can’t do it without my brother. I don’t want to do it without my brother. And if he’s gone, then I don’t…” (10x18 Book of the Damned)

Golden by Fall Out Boy // lyrics // Dean is so so broken. “No, there is no other way, Sam. I’m sorry.” (10x23 Brother’s Keeper)

Church by Fall Out Boy // lyrics // This whole song screams Sam and Dean to me, and initially I thought of Sam’s Wall breaking down, but then I got stuck on the lines And if death is the last appointment / Then we're all just sitting in the waiting room / I am just a human trying to avoid my certain doom and that’s so clearly Dean killing Death, unable to murder his little brother in the end, because his devotion to Sam runs too deep. (10x23 Brother’s Keeper) In which the SPN writers and Pete Wentz really should get together and discuss over-the-top religious imagery. You are doomed but just enough. Right Back Home by Lifehouse // lyrics // “We are home.“ (11x04 Baby) Be There by Seafret // lyrics // "Bring him back. Bring him back and take me instead." (11x17 Red Meat) You're my way out / You're my way through / And I can't, I can't / Be without you.

Only the Brave by Louis Tomlinson // lyrics // “I need him, he needs me.“ (11x23 Alpha and Omega) With or Without You by U2 // lyrics // The absolute poetic tragedy of 12x09 (First Blood). The way they don’t even have time to really look at each other after six weeks apart, that they are both ready to die for each other without a moment of hesitation.

I Won't Mind by ZAYN // lyrics // “I'm good with who I am. I'm good with who you are. Because our lives? They're ours and maybe I'm too damn old to want to change that.” (14x13 Lebanon)

Fine Line by Harry Styles // lyrics // "Just us.” (15x19 Inherit the Earth)

#spn playlist #supernatural playlist #sam and dean playlist #wincest playlist #sam and dean #wincest #sam x dean #spn #supernatural #wincest quotes #wincest song recs #this is how i'm coping with the show ending okay #leave me alone i'm sad #spn s15 #my post #sam winchester #dean winchester #15x20 #the epic love story of sam and dean

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micheswife · 3 years

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media belongs to the rightful owners.

It is good to have you back.

Warnings: fluff, angst, chpt 139 spoilers, romantic????

Ship: Levi x civilian OC.

Summary: Mira has managed to stick by Levi's side ever since he got out of the underground. Now, they finally meet.

Times were simpler back then. Back when the Eldians were unaware of what laid beyond the walls, when salt was a luxury and oceans only appeared in fiction. Mira was just nineteen year old civilian with an ordinary life. She woke up, cooked, cleaned, studied and sewed, enjoying everything life had to offer.

This was until her eyes caught the sight of a certain soldier, he looked rather cold, little did she know she would come to read the smallest changes in his expressions in a few months. The scouts had been returning from an expedition the first time she saw him, he looked devasted and she knew why. She had felt sorry for him, for them all. She so desperately had wanted to do something for them, but alas, she lacked the guts to stand up to the crowd jeering at the soldiers. Nor did she have the funds to donate, nor the courage to join them in the battle. She had been sad when she returned home that day, and her brother's portrait made it worse. He had lost his life outside the walls five years ago, on his first expedition. She ran a thumb over the wooden frame of the drawing, before writing a letter that would be the start of the painful journey that had left her with a heavy heart today.

It was a long expression of her support towards the survey corps, her sorrow towards her own lack of strength and everything in between.

"This is pathetic." She had exclaimed after having gone through the letter, ultimately tearing it apart and discarding it in the fire. The soldiers didn't need to hear her sob story.

The next month, she had rushed to the gates upon hearing the bells, a warm meal and a little note packed in her piece of rag. She secured it with her pink ribbon, tying it in an overly elaborate knot to indicate that it was present. She cringed as she recollected asking a kid to deliver the package. Having a crush does make people desperate afterall.

It was a particularly noisy group of kids she had approached, they were enamoured with the soldiers, but she was certain they were no longer alive today.

"Hey kids, I need you to deliver something." She had crouched down.

"Um...what?".

"You see captain Levi there? This is his lunch, could you please give it to him for me."

The kids were more than happy to have an excuse to interact with their hero, so the box was grabbed immediately. The innocent children never once wondered why the perfectly healthy lady couldn’t deliver that lunch herself.

"That girl wants to give you your lunch! Captain!" Mira heard one of the excited children as she scurried away into the dark alley, rushing home as fast as she could. She was terrified of having any sort of attention on her, more so when there was the possibility of rejection involved. She tucked her feelings in the back of her mind, assuming that the captain had indeed rejected her present. Mira was a pessimist like that.

But she had been wrong, because Levi was more than grateful to have received a warm meal. Even though it had resulted in a lot of annoying comments for the rest of his career, some soldiers had even claimed to have seen the mystery woman. It didn't help that the kids had described her as a thin, brown-haired woman. That was all they remembered, too excited to have spoken with Levi.

He had opened the package to find a note inside. His hopes were shattered when it revealed nothing about the sender, except for her shabby handwriting.

"Tch, could have written it neatly."

He muttered as he kept the note aside and opened the container, food still warm inside. He couldn't help but smile when he tasted the soup, there were tiny bits of meat inside. The vegetables and the freshly baked bread had fixed him for the day. He had washed the container when nobody was looking, but not before folding the note and securing it in his wallet. It was rare for people to address such gratefulness towards him, even after everything he had done.

He'd cherish those words forever, "thank you, captain Levi." Fortunately, people became more grateful after wall Maria had been reclaimed. But by that point, Mira's little notes were the only thing that comforted him. He had a friend who stayed. He would write to her after every expedition, pouring his grief, sadness and anger in it, making sure to leave out the any confidential details. In exchange, she gave him an invisible shoulder to lean on, hoping that the narration of her mundane days would somehow provide comfort. And it did, he liked knowing about the next embroidery she planned to make, he always waited for the next meal to fill his stomach, her next letter to fill his heart. She had a slightly different personality than him in that she smiled a little more, she had more innocence, but they both were equally distant, burying their need for companionship into oblivion.

They used to talk about their days, about their hobbies, but never about their relationship. They never acknowledged their type of relationship they had, but a few feelings would slip out.

Levi had stopped telling her about Hange after he felt a tinge of bitterness in her next letter, he wanted to let her know that him and Hange shared a deep but platonic love. He avoided it, however, not wanting to make things worse. It was at that moment, Levi had made a decision. If him and this mystery girl ever survived their cruel destiny, then he would pursue her. He would ask her name, and invite her over to the same place she kept his lunch box every week. Under a lone tree not far from the headquarters.

"Don't forget the dessert this time, and keep it under that tree with yellow flowers, it is behind the headquarters." He had placed his note in the clean box, and shoved it back into the hands of the same starry-eyed kid.

"Give it to her next time you see her." He wondered what happened to the little boy after their little arrangement was made. He had taken a leap of faith that day and it had worked, the girl had come back next month, she had been looking for another group of enthusiastic kids but the little boy from last month had approached her.

"The captain told me to give you this."

She had to convince him to not go up to Levi and cause and commotion. Little did she know, Levi had already seen her bribing the kid with some homemade candy which was meant for him instead. Over the next few months, Levi would try his hardest to remember her face, contemplating the decision to ask Moblit for a sketch. But he knew that Mira wound not agree, she, just like him was scared of getting too comfortable. Perhaps that fear had been the reason why they both had established such a weird dynamic. They had soon fallen into a routine of exchanging letters, and preserving them. Levi soon found comfort in the increasing familiarity, Mira's behaviour becoming more and more predictable. They both had their own set of circumstances that had prevented them from meeting in person, including the fear that it would ruin the sacred relation they had built. They could not afford to lose each other, Mira had deliberately approached him, and he had actively seeked her out in return, going as far as dealing with a noisy little brat to see the girl for once. They were not meant to cross paths, they were not soulmates, they were hardworkers. Levi barely had the time to sleep, and it took a lot of courage to talk about his feelings, get, he made himself vulnerable in those letters, grateful that someone was willing to listen.

Mira, on the other hand, had to sneak around to deliver the meals. She was poor, a mere house-helper for some rich families, but she worked extra hours to buy those fancy ingredients. Hiding letters from her parents required a lot of tact, so did rejecting each and every man her father introduced her to. All with the awareness that Levi did not and would not love her, ever. She had forced herself to find comfort in her loneliness, unlike Levi, she never poured out her emotions. She only wrote about the things she did, the funny little dreams she saw, but her feelings were a taboo topic. To top the emotional labour, the fall of wall Maria had driven her faraway from the new headquarters, so Levi would sometimes slip in some money to help her out. It felt good to provide for her, to take care of her, especially after she had lost her parents.

The relationship had went on for years, until Levi had finally expressed feeling fearful about his impending death.

"I may never come back, also, do not reply to this letter... I will have gone to Marley by the time this reaches you. Please live a long life." A tear dropped onto the letter, smudging the ink. Levi had been to Marley several times, but this was final. He needed to save the world, not just Paradis. She had cried until her lungs gave out, until she felt lightheaded, but not because Levi would possibly not return. She was scared about the pain he might experience in his final moments. Would it be a titan? A bullet? An explosion?

"God, please let there be someone to save him." she had prayed, and her prayers had been answered. The woman Mira would get jealous of had found Levi in a horrible condition. She had lost her cheer, no longer wanting the responsibility of her position. She had even suggested running away together to the Captain, and honestly Mira would have preferred for him to do that too, afterall, Hange knew him better and longer than her. But the Captain had a promise to fulfill, and he would never just give up.

Mira never knew any of it, she refused to look at the newspapers, too scared of facing the new world of extremists. The walls were gone, some scouts had returned, but she did not see the Captain. Her pessimistic mind assumed the worst, and soon enough, a little plant was dancing on her window in honour of a soldier she had presumed dead.

It had been a long time since the last letter was sent, and Levi was now in a wheel chair. He wondered about the girl, he had never bothered to ask her name, instead he had start calling her Lily, since she always wore one of those in her wavy hair.

He remembered his decision, if they survived the titans, then he would pursue her. This was his last mission life, little did he know, Mira had started pushing him out of her mind. She had been struggling with a phase, she would write long letters addressed to him and keep them tucked away to cope with her thoughts. The cold, lonely nights had been harsh on her, and she was losing her appetite. It was going to be okay though, Levi was already on a ship to Paradis, ready with a ring in his coat. For now, he would go over his speech for the first peace summit in Paradis, and then straight to Mira. He was sure he could find her.

#Levi #levi aot #levi ackerman #snk #attack on titan #aot x oc #snk x oc #snk 139 #levi heichou #levi x oc #rivai ackerman #rivalle #rivaille #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin manga #shingeki no kyoujin levi

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ereri-lost-and-found · 4 years

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hi, I read a fic ages ago that I lost halfway through reading it. Levi was a vampire hunter and Eren was a vampire, and I literally cannot recall anything else from it, I hope that's enough!?!?!? Thank you so much for your hard work

Hi, Anon

Are any of these the one you read?

Own Ending by Faded_BlueEyes (Rated M, 116,886 words, multichapter, complete)

Eren couldn't comprehend what he had seen the previous night. He watched the grey-eyed man wiping the tables and couldn't understand how the man who made his coffee every day and handed it over with a snarky remark was the very same man who was destined to kill him. Eren refused to believe Levi would kill him.

On top of keeping himself off the radar and keeping up with the make-believe student life, now Eren has to deal with hunters and making sure nobody dies because of his mistakes.

A Stranger I remain by Fyon_Pyong (Rated E, 86,570 words, multichapter, ongoing)

Eren Jaeger--the most ancient vampire since 1684--found that attending the most prestigious university in St.SINA would be the same, boring schools that his "father" and "mother" sent; doing the same, monotone routine of socialising with yet another roommate (whom he always despised every time), attending parties thrown by popular guys, and getting good grades.

He was orderd by his parents to collect the three ancient artifact for the dark ritual but he didn't expect to meet his past lover's reincarnation.Whom Eren thought had loved him but ended up betraying him.

it couldn't be worse, wasn't it? When said lover was reincarnated into not one, but two persons; and both of them seemed determined to win Eren's heart, He knows that these two Ackermans will be his main obstacles to run hsi quest moreover, St. SINA seemed to have a dark force lurking behind.

Part 1 of Riren's Horror and Romance Stories

Your Blood Is My Drug by Lozz (Rated M, 31,579 words, multichapter, ongoing)

The kid, no older than six, had chestnut brown hair, light tan skin, and the most stunning teal colored eyes. God, he had to be the most beautiful child I've ever seen.

The boy glanced down at the floor, staring at what he assumed to be his mother's blood. Then he stared at my hand, which was also covered in blood. His eyes briefly flashed red, which confirmed my suspicion about him being a vampire. Only vampire children were that flawless like dolls. But what was confusing was that he wasn't pale or lifeless, he had some human features to him. Vampires don't have human features.

Whatever the hell was going on, I was screwed.

With this pretty eyed kid asking me where his mother was.

Compulsion by rachel_exe (Rated E, 4,463 words, oneshot, complete)

Levi had never thought Eren’s powers would be so useful in bed, but after the first time they had tried it, he couldn’t do without them.

First Blood by voxofthevoid (Rated E, 10,245 words, multichapter, ongoing)

Levi Ackerman is a Hunter, one of the rare few tasked with fighting off the unnatural evil that lurks among humans and feeds on them. Though his pitiful origins and shady upbringing do not hint at a man of noble qualities, Levi is fiercely dedicated to his duty and his skill has earned him the illustrious title of ‘Humanity’s Strongest’.

It’s a hard life filled with danger and death but Levi is fine with it, right until his notoriety draws the attention of something that is better left alone. An immortal admirer with a thirst for blood and a penchant for games is not the kind of mess Levi needs in his life but he’s stuck with it all the same.

Levi is a master at killing monsters but what will he do when faced with a creature that just won’t die?

Being Alive by YumeMusouka (Rated E, 43,489 words, multichapter, ongoing)

For years, I watched humans make the same mistakes over and over. Society kept breaking apart and coming back, blinding themselves from the real cruel part of the world. I merely observed the way natural selection selected its course, because every single being was a monster. There was no one worth saving... at least that was what I thought until I met a pair of silver eyes.

Or the story (because I know my summary sucks) where Eren looks like a 15 year old but is actually ancient as fuck. He finds one specific human interesting (aka Levi), so he watches over him like a goddamn stalker (not really). Eventually said human becomes his natural enemy, but Eren will still do anything for him. Because Eren knows that he can kick Levi's ass any day.

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natrogersfics · 4 years

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PREVIEW: All I Ask - Chapter 2

NEW CHAPTER: JUNE 20, 2020

There’s a crackle as Steve’s body collides with the ground, but whether it’s from the gravel he’s landed on or his bones cracking from the force, he’s uncertain. Between the pain radiating from the gash on his leg and the deafening ring in his ears, he’s unable to focus on anything other than how heavy his body feels. The desire to stay down and succumb to the darkness that’s lurking in his periphery washes over him suddenly, becoming far too tempting as he struggles for breath, and as his eyes begin to fall shut, it’s almost irresistible.

But staying down isn’t an option. He knows it’s not, even when it feels like he has nothing left to give. It takes a Herculean effort, so much so that he can’t stop the wince from breaking out across his face, but he wills himself to roll ungracefully to his side.

“In all my years of conquest… violence… slaughter,” he hears Thanos say from yards away. “It was never personal.” The Titan takes a pause, and when Steve looks up, the smile on the monster’s face is nearly audible as he continues, “But I’ll tell you now… what I’m about to do to your stubborn, annoying little planet… I’m gonna enjoy it very, very much.”

The ground rumbles with the force of thousands of footsteps approaching, of ships landing, and weapons being drawn. His gaze sweeps across Thanos’ army filling the other side of the terrain, and he swallows hard at the sight. On his flanks, Tony and Thor are still out cold, and he can’t bring himself to think about what else has happened to everyone else. Whoever else they’ve lost.

He lets out a groan, loud and guttural, as he forces himself to his feet. He huffs out a breath, gritting his teeth as he fastens the strap on what’s left of his shield and begins to limp towards the fight. He’s all alone, all that’s left. One man with nothing more than half his weapon and his will to fight.

And it’s going to have to be enough.

“Steve,” he hears a voice whisper, soft and saccharine. “Can you hear me?”

He pauses, letting out a tired chuckle. The metallic taste of blood in his mouth must only be the tip of the iceberg as far as his injuries go. His mind must have gone long before, because there it goes, the one voice he wants to hear, drowning out the ruckus of the battalion before him. Perhaps this is a kindness - a gift from the world he had given his life to save once before, and, as it stands, again in this moment. If its demise is here, then so be it. But at least let this voice be the last sound he hears before he perishes along with it.

“Steve, it’s me. Can you hear me?”

A smile grazes his lips. You’re all I hear.

“Turn around, Steve.”

A spark cuts through the gloom of the battlefield when he looks back, growing bigger and glowing brighter by the second as he stares in astonishment. A figure emerges from the light, slowly and torturously so, and vaguely, he’s aware that the portals have multiplied, lighting up the field as if the sun has shone over them. But as he focuses on the shadow coming towards him, his heart stammers in his chest. Neither pain nor delirium could keep him from recognizing the poise and confidence in its gait. And as it moves forward, revealing itself, he’s filled with something he thought he’d never feel again – relief.

In the midst of the ruins of what was once their home, Natasha’s onyx suit gleams, and the light of her batons is as fiery as the one illuminating her emerald eyes. She turns to him, her smile as sweet and mesmerizing as the one she had sent his way before this nightmare had begun. “Hey, soldier.”

Steve bolts up in bed, his chest heaving as cold sweat drips down his temple. He feels around him, and when his hands land on nothing but the softness of the sheets, he inhales deeply in an attempt to get his breathing in order. It was just a dream. He repeats the words in his head, mouthing them silently. It was just a dream.

When his breathing slows, he takes in his surroundings. Even in the dark, he makes out the fading yellow of the walls, and the pictures in the frames littering the shelves before him with the faces of three young children remind him that he isn’t on the battlefield, but in the guest bedroom of Clint’s home. With a sigh, he rises to look out the window. The light of dawn lingers low in the Missouri sky, painting the landscape of the Barton family farm in tones of rich purples and oranges. But in spite of the impending sign of a new day, he feels his hands clench into fists at his sides, and before he can let his emotions get the better of him, he finds himself dressing and swiftly making his way out the back door.

The barn is empty, and he searches frantically for something – anything – to do, as if what’s left of his sanity might just slip if he keeps still, and he doesn’t even think twice when he sees the axe on the workstation. He picks it up, heading towards the pile of firewood on the side of the room, and as he strikes the blade against the wood, he can no longer keep his thoughts from running amuck. Now more than ever, he feels like there is a heartless irony to his existence. When they’ve come as close as they have to not witnessing another day, the opportunity to live a new one shouldn’t bother him and make his heart feel like a weight in his chest, but they do. And it’s without a scintilla of a doubt that he knows that it’s all to do with the costly price they’ve had to pay to forge this reality.

The end was supposed to justify their means. And in many ways, it does. Families are reunited. The Earth remains in orbit. Half of the galaxy’s life has been restored. But even so, their losses haven’t felt minimized to any degree. The world could sympathize with the fact that Tony would never see Morgan grow up or that Natasha would never get to live the life she fought arduously to deserve, but they won’t hear Pepper’s sobs at night. They won’t hear the anguish in Clint’s voice when he reminisces with Nathaniel about his namesake. And they most definitely won’t hear his screams when he dreams of the life he and Natasha could have had, only to have it ripped away time and again by morning.

The last thought causes him to grip the axe more tightly. It’s been days since their time heist and since they’d defeated Thanos and his army for good, and though sleep has been difficult to find, on the off chance that he did, he’s been haunted by this recurring dream and the subsequent affliction of waking up to find that it was indeed just that. The sacrifice hadn’t been undone. Natasha hadn’t come back to them, to him. And in a world where stealing time has become a possibility, it’s a cruel, twisted joke that just having another minute with her, is not.

Tell me after. When we get our family and friends back. When we’ve restored half the universe. When we’ve won.

Her words from that night echo in his mind, her voice as sweet as it is in his dreams. But it only fortifies the bitterness coursing through his veins, intensifying the effort he exerts as he brings the axe to the wood over and over again. They were foolish to think they could leave the words they wanted to tell each other for a better time – as if they knew for certain that they had more than what they had at that very moment. And now here he was, back in his own fresh hell, alive if only to relive the vicious cycle of losing the person he loves. Though this time, he’d lost much more than the promise of one dance.

A pained groan slips from his lips as his restraint crumbles, and he sends the axe flying towards the wall, the blade embedding into the wooden panel. He brings a hand up to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fuck.”

“Might just be me,” he hears someone say, “but that’s looking a little too fine for the fireplace now.”

He looks down at his feet, and he has to blink away the tears he hadn’t realized had filled his eyes to see that he had turned the log into mulch. With the back of his hand, he wipes his tears away before turning to find Clint lingering by the work bench, his sweat-drenched shirt a reassurance that he’s not the only one that sleep has alluded. He sighs. “You can’t sleep,” he says, watching as Clint stares at him for a second, unsure if he should be surprised or impressed that his words had come out as a statement of fact instead of a trite question, but he only shrugs. Preamble meant little to him now.

“Every time I close my eyes…” Clint says, “I see her falling.”

He looks back down at the ground. He knows better than anyone what that’s like, to have a horror movie play in your head repeatedly without the power to shut it off. The image of Bucky falling from the train haunted him for years, and some nights, even when he knew his best friend had survived, it still did. But he doesn’t dare offer Clint any advice - damn if he knew how to make it stop.

“I think I’d be better off with nightmares,” he says, his voice steady even when his gut feels anything but. “Because at least they wouldn't be a lie. But all I keep getting are dreams that she’s not really gone.” He does not even look up to see Clint’s reaction as he adds, “I can deal with the pain of reality. I think it’s all I’ve ever really known since I came out of the ice. But this… hope? This feeling like there’s got to be some way to bring her back and I’m just missing it?” He shakes his head. “It’s a demon I don’t know how to slay.”

“It can’t be undone,” Clint says softly. “You know it can’t, Steve.”

“Do I?” he says heatedly. “God, what do I know? What do any of us really know? Every goddamn thing we thought was impossible turned out to be possible!” He steps forward. “So, tell me, Clint, after everything we’ve been through, everything that’s happened, what do we really know anymore?”

“I know she’s not here,” Clint says, throwing his hands up in frustration. “My best friend isn't here!” He scoffs. “She didn't choose to become what they made her, didn't get a say in any of it… But she atoned for those sins all the same.” His voice falls to a tormented whisper. “She deserved this win more than anyone I know."

His expression softens at the agony that pains Clint's face. "She fought to own her choices,” he says. “You couldn't have stopped her. Even I know that."

"Yeah, she fought for it,” Clint says, his chuckle devoid of any humor as he looks back at him. “You're right, maybe we don't know a fucking thing anymore, but what I do know is that she is not here."

“It had to be her.”

His head whips in the direction of the barn’s door, as does Clint’s, and they both share a look when they find Stephen Strange leaning against the frame.

“But I have reason to believe there is more to her sacrifice than previously thought,” Strange says.

Click here to read Chapter 1 on AO3.

#romanogers #all i ask #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #natrogerfics #endgame fix it

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megalony · 4 years

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He’s my son

This is a murderer! Ben imagine that will hopefully have a few follow up parts and involves a dad! Roger, I hope you all will like it.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogermeddow @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @peterquillzsblog

Ben Hardy masterlist

Summary: When Ben gets in trouble with the police, Roger takes matters into his own hands and decides he’s going to try and get custody of Ben’s son. But Ben won’t let Finn go so easily.

Enjoy.

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

Rubbing his hand over the stubble beginning to form on his chin and cheeks, Ben leaned his head on his arm that was resting against the side of the front door he was waiting outside of. His right knee was bent forward to the point it was almost pushing against the door and his forehead was dangerously close to the door as if he was trying to intimidate it.

The moment the untainted white door finally swung open, Ben looked up for a second and a sigh of relief passed through his lips.

"I see they released you, are you out on bail I'm guessing?" Tipping his head further to the side, Ben allowed a smile to form on his lips that came across very vindictive and cynical at his father's words. No matter what Ben did, he could always count on his dad to see the worst in him- well, maybe not the worst, but definitely the bad streak running through his veins.

"They don't give bail to people who are in the clear." Ben shrugged his shoulders as he spoke but his father didn't back away and let him inside or crack a sad smile or even shake his head in irritation. He simply stared at his youngest son with such emotions in his eyes that Ben had seen thousands of times before, yet still with some emotions Ben had never experienced his dad express to him directly like this.

The elder man looked unimpressed as he stared up at his son who had quite a bit of height over him, adding to the intimidating stance he had. Ben looked like a bailiff coming to collect what he was owed and he was ready to use force to get what he deemed he was owed. There had always been something about Ben that was different, he had always possessed the ability to frighten people even when he was smiling so sweetly at them. He was always the odd one out of his siblings.

Roger stayed silent, not even sighing or rolling his eyes or relenting and allowing his boy into his home. He stayed blocking the doorway like a boulder which they both knew Ben could move with ease if he wished. He had one hand resting on the door and his other hand resting on the wall like he was making sure no one could get in and no one could get out. They had been in this position far too many times that the act was becoming predictable and it was time it ended.

"Alright come on dad, either let me in or go get him, I don't have time to play games."

The smile that came onto Ben's face sent a shiver running down his father's spine and a spike piercing through his chest. The way that Ben's lips curved at the corners was crooked and unusual and when he dared to flash his teeth he resembled a shark baiting its prey, ready to attack.

"Is that what this is to you, a game?" When Roger dared to speak, Ben shook his head before he tipped his head back and let out a dark laugh. His fingers started to drum against the bricks next to the door and it was a telltale sign that he was becoming annoyed and fed up.

"Just go get my son, thank you for looking after him I appreciate it." The way he spoke showed he was giving an order rather than a response. He had been away from his boy for four days now and he would like to see him and take him home. Ben hadn't turned up here for a lecture or to see how much of a disappointment his father thought he was. But he was clearly agitated when Roger made no move to walk away from the door or to call out to his grandson and tell him it was time to go home.

"I can't do that."

Roger glanced his eyes around for a moment like he was scanning the area for something to use to his defence or to make sure that no one else was in earshot. He knew how Ben was going to take this and he knew it was not going to be pretty, but it had to be done.

"Excuse me?" Ben's fingers stopped tapping against the bricks and instead dug into the red gravel of the brickwork. His skin started to scratch and become irritable but he paid no mind and kept pushing his fingers further into the wall to stop himself from lashing out. What was Roger talking about? Why couldn't he go and get Finn, he was here Ben knew it.

Ben had been in the custody cells for the last three nights and Roger had gladly taken Finn for the past few days, Ben knew his boy was here. But he was out now and so Finn needed to come back home with him, there was no reason for that not to happen unless Finn wasn't okay or for some reason, he was no longer here. But Ben could see by the way that Roger kept glancing around that he was afraid Finn might turn up at the door or hear what was being said. Ben had to have his boy back, that was non-negotiable and he wouldn't have Roger telling him what to do anymore.

"Finn stays with me, I don't think you should be looking after him Ben-"

"That's nice that you think you have a say in all this, but Finn is my son not yours. Now, you either go and tell him I'm here or I force my way in this house and go get him. I won't leave without my son." Ben leaned forward until he was dangerously close to Roger and his expression said he was serious. Ben wasn't leaving unless he had his boy with him.

"Being with you when you're up to no good at that God forsaken club and when you've just been pulled into a murder investigation is no place for a six year old. I went to speak to a lawyer whilst you were being questioned and I've applied for emergency custody of him. Finn stays with me until we know he's safe with you." Roger tried, he tried very hard to hold his head up and be calm and composed but it was much harder when he had his son sneering at him and leaning so close that their breaths were entwined.

Ben's upper lip curled like he was a snarling, vicious dog getting ready to bare his teeth and his body was beginning to shake from anger.

How dare Roger do this behind his back.

Finn was Ben's son, he was Ben's responsibility and Ben would never put him in danger or hurt him or do anything that would unsettle him. He was Ben's world and he was his priority, Roger held very little right to go and do this behind Ben's back.

"If you're going for emergency custody you have to give me warning which you did not. Finn is my son and he is safe and loved with me. Go talk to the police, I'm cleared of all suspicion because it was nothing to do with me. You've got one chance to move, old man, or I'm coming in and getting my son, you have no right to try and snatch him from me."

"Don't stand on my doorstep and threaten me, Ben. I don't want you coming into my house and upsetting Finn, he's fine and he's settled so just go home. I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't think he was unsafe or at risk-"

"I don't want your excuses!" Ben snapped before he pursed his lips, tightening his jaw like he was a bomb about to go off. He was becoming volatile and he knew it but he couldn't do anything but go along with this because Roger was testing the little patience that he had. "From the moment he was born you were there, never hesitating to tell me what I was doing wrong. You're doing this so you can have him, so you can raise him right because you fucked up so badly with me."

Ben pushed himself off the wall and took a few steps back, resting his face in his hands and rubbing furiously at his skin as he smothered a shout of frustration with his palms.

He remembered the moment Finn was born, out of all five children Roger had Ben was still the only one to have a child of his own and Roger had been there from the first moment. He tried to help but he also made Ben feel like he was trying to get in between him and Finn. He was both a help and a threat to Ben and he hated it. Ben didn't have the best personality and he didn't have an easy child which made him a hard child and a hard person to deal with in general. But he saw the way Roger tried with Finn, he tried so hard with him and it was like he was making up for all the wrong doings that had happened with Ben in his childhood.

Ben knew he was a bad person, he had a heart of coal that could never be changed and he was a cruel and volatile person. But where his son was concerned, Ben was an angel in disguise. He loved Finn to pieces, he cared for him on his own he brought him up on his own and he did everything right by Finn. His son was the only good thing in Ben's life and the only thing he could be proud of, Roger was not going to steal the light from Ben's life.

"He's my son! You have four of your own, you've got three sons you didn't fuck up, don't try and take mine away from me to repent yourself."

"Leave now or I'm calling the police, Finn stays with us where he's safe."

A sound resembling a scream left Ben's lips as he slammed his foot into the base of the door when it was slammed in his face before he had the chance to push his body inside the house. Taking a few steps away from the door, Ben glared at the large house as he wondered whereabouts Finn would be, he wasn't leaving without his son. Dragging his nails through his knotted curls, Ben looked back through the frosted glass of the front door and almost grinned when he noticed Roger was still stood there checking on him out of fear.

Keeping his hands knotted in his hair for a few moments, Ben walked to the right away from the door and headed over to the bay window of the front room. A surge of relief and adrenaline flooded his chest when he peered through the window and noticed Finn was in there.

He pressed one hand on the windowsill and knocked on the window with the other hand, smiling when Finn looked up from the console in his hand. The six year old was sat cross-legged on the carpet in front of the tv, obviously trying to play a video game but he normally needed help with games at the moment. A bright smile flooded the little boy's face and he quickly dropped the console on the floor before getting up and scuttling over to the window.

Finn clambered onto the foot rest beneath the window so he could reach up and open the latch, pushing the window wide before he leaned out to reach Ben.

"Daddy!" Finn leaned out the window with his arms out causing Ben to reach over and hold onto him both to cuddle him and make sure he didn't fall.

"Careful, little man. Did you miss me?" Ben kissed the curls on Finn's head, holding him as close as he could with the windowsill between them before he gently nudged Finn back so he wasn't at risk of falling out.

"Yeah, grandad said you were working away for a few weeks so I'm staying here. Shall I go get him?" Finn kept hold of Ben's hand before he turned his head to see if either of his grandparents were in the room or nearby so he could call out to them. Finn didn't understand that they didn't get along with Ben, he knew they didn't really interact or talk very much but he never grasped how badly the rift was between his dad and grandparents.

"No, no buddy he knows I'm here. Can you do something for me?" When Ben smiled Finn grinned, thinking they were playing some kind of game. "Go put your shoes on and grab your coat for me, but don't let grandad or grandma see you. We're gonna play hide and seek, meet me at the front door."

"Okay!" Finn grinned before scrambling down and running out of the living room and into the hall.

Turning around Ben headed back over to the front door, rubbing his hands together in front of him as he heard the lock chime a few seconds later. But the moment the door opened and Finn was about to step towards Ben, Roger's hand fell on his shoulder and tugged him back until Roger could stand in front of him and block his path.

"Finn, go back into the lounge please. I need to talk to your dad for a minute." Roger urged Finn to go but he only moved back a few steps, peering around Roger to look at Ben because he could sense something was wrong.

"Why, I want daddy."

"You don't have the right to try and barge in here and start making trouble! Do you really want to upset him by trying to run out of here with him? He'll be brought back here eventually anyway so just go home. Finn's better off with us." Roger whispered the words with spite at Ben before trying to close the door but this time, Ben pushed the door with his foot.

"I have every right, he belongs with me and you're scaring him. Get out the way and let him come with me. Little man, come with me it's okay." Ben held out his hand but Roger stood firm, keeping his arm in front of Finn to stop him from getting too close to Ben like he was a man with a gun.

"No, he stays-"

"For fuck's sake he doesn't want to be with you!" Ben kicked the door again to try and push it open more and make room for either Finn to come out the house or for Ben to head in. But Roger stayed firm and held the door in place. Leaning around Roger, Ben clenched his jaw and felt his heart shattering when tears started to fall from Finn's eyes before he turned and ran into the living room to be out of the way.

"Go." Was all that Roger said before he shut the door in Ben's face.

A sudden thought ran into Ben's head and he quickly turned to the right and hurried over to the bay window again, pulling it open when he noticed it was still ajar from minutes ago. Leaning in, he moved his hand to beckon Finn over when he saw his boy curled up on the armchair.

"Little man, come here quick."

Finn wiped at his eyes, contemplating what Ben was saying before he stood up and headed over to the window, climbing back on the foot stool so he could be level with Ben. His eyes widened but he didn't say anything when Ben reached in and scooped Finn up. He gently eased Finn out of the window and took a few steps back before settling his boy on his hip, sighing out of utter relief that he had him back after four days of being kept away from him.

"A-are we going home?" Finn wrapped his arms around Ben's neck, sniffing quietly but there was uncertainty in his eyes because he didn't know what was going on or what they were doing.

"Yeah, I'm taking you back home with me buddy, everything's okay." Ben's eyes locked with Roger's the moment he headed into the lounge and Ben took that as his cue to leave. He spun on his heels and headed over to his car, gently setting Finn down and strapping him in the passenger seat.

"Ben you can't take him! How long until the police come knocking and he sees? You were damn lucky he was at school when they arrested you this time, get him out the car." Roger tried to hurry out of the house but it was no use because Finn was already in the car and Ben wasn't going to let him get near his grandson now that he had him back.

"When your emergency custody comes through or you take me to court then we'll talk about who takes him where. But right now, he's my son under my care and I'm taking him home."

#ben hardy #ben x reader #ben hardy imagine #imagine #BoRhap #roger taylor #present roger #murderer! ben #hes my son

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the-east-art · 4 years

Text

Easts Story Ideas

Just so lots of these are in one place. Not comprehensive. I’m hoping this will help with my anxiety. Go under the read more and see why I’m losing it literally all the time.

WTGP - Kyle, a college drop out, accidentally gets sucked into the magical underground of his town thanks to his housemates.

The Rovers - Four humans travel across space back to the Local System (the Solar System where humankind originated from). A short story.

A Nether Time - The life force of the world is dying, so Silas journeys to the other worlds in an attempt to find a solution. Timeloop.

Supernaturalists - When Briar gets shot, his heart stops. And then starts again. Starting from that day, his hair turns green, his eyes turn red, and he develops incredible powers.

The Dragon House - a set of pre-teens find themselves in the forests of Maine brought to the Dragon House, needing to find out what is wrong with the mana of the world.

Ghost Squad - A group of college friends come together to form a ghost hunting, paranormal investigating team. In the process they get in over their heads, and things go south.

Reprise and Repeat - The year is 1965. After the death of her uncle, Sen becomes the owner of her families estate. Returning back to her family after spending years in an orphanage, Sen learns to inherit the family magic that rests inside of her. (In truth mostly brownies story idea)

Project Babel - Two girls are chosen by their people to control two giant and powerful robots in an attempt to kill the cruel god that rules over them.

In The Eye - A girl gains extraordinary abilities by aligning herself with a magic source, until she discover its’ true nature (in very rough stages).

Children of the Sea - The strange children of the sea become lost on land and must rely on the kindness found in the worlds people to finish their journeys (in very rough stages)

Cumulus - In a post-post apocalyptic earth, Dmitri is the last of the cloud boys, cowboys that were sent to the skies to watch over the clouds that take the form of horses. One stormy night the entire team of horses is taken and he falls from his land in the sky. Airren, a boy from the land, finds him, and journeys with him to repair things.

Wires Twisted Like DNA - Red, a young prodigy, created the first AI robot, named Twone. Years later, they create the second AI robot, Delta. Twone struggles to deal with envy and the concept of siblings.

The Stars - Zvezda, an intrepid space explorer haunted by a ghost, journeys as an independent thief across the universe. (in very rough stages)

In Our Shadows - A mother makes a pact with a demon in order to keep it away from her son (in very rough stages)

To Stumble - After the death of her parents, young Lily is sent to live with her college age cousin Kay, who now has to juggle school and teaching the family magic to his younger cousin.

Cinder and Ash - A Cinderella story where Cinder is a boy and works in the stables, accidentally falling in love with the prince. (a verse novel)

Snow Queen - (there’s nothing here, but I want to do an adaptation of this story)

The Barracks - The chosen one is missing, sent to earth to prepare for the battle in three years. But this isn’t about him, this is about the birth and the fight of the rebellion in the years while he is gone.

And We Forget Ourselves - When you turn 18, you forget your childhood (in very rough stages, probably a short story)

How High Must Men Pile Mud To Ask God A Question And Get An Answer

The Mother and The Beast - Kaviron gives birth to a child destined to wreck havoc on the land. But she cannot bring herself to kill him, so instead she raises him, trying to keep him safe from those that would harm him.

Retrograde - the planet is hurt and loses it’s long term memory. This results in a world wide time loop. A rag tag group (Including a lawyer, an old man, and a kid who works at Chili’s) must find out how to heal the memory of the world.

Space Dust - A rag tag space group each has a reason to break into a highly protecting space facility (in very rough stages, a podcast)

Road Trip - A handful of preteens and young teenagers are charged with saving the world. They need Casey for one reason - she’s old enough to drive.

Little Red Wolf Slayer - Little Red Riding Hood takes up a sword and goes to save other folklore characters, while also searching for someone important to her.

Horse Crew - A group of horse girls (in very rough stages, only characters)

Law of Pelts - Selkies (in very rough stage, only characters)

Candle Queen - (in very rough stages, only characters

Silk Skin - A Naga and a young researcher fall in love (In very rough stages)

Frog Cadet - (in very rough stages, only characters)

Hello, it’s me, the space station - after seeing their crew in danger from human enemies, the space station accidentally creates a robotic body for itself and breaks through any programming blocks they had (in very rough stages, only characters)

Libra - (in very rough stages, only character)

Marina - The story of five friends who spend the summer on a house boat and the surrounding area. About facing the future, learning about the past, and the uneasy feeling of summer.

Moodboard Characters - just a set of characters I made up from moodboards a while back

Exulansis - a series of short, wordless comics about different people solving the problems of different worlds.

Eat Crow - The story of a crow girl with a sword (in very rough stages, only characters)

Inktober - characters from inktober prompts

Letters From No One - A boy is put in charge of delivering letters from the afterlife to the living

In The Rubble - Surviving in the apocalypse (very rough stages, only characters (caterpillar girl))

Breeze - a man and the soft fairy that accompanies him (very rough stages, only characters)

Mystery Dungeon The Comic - more of an honorable mention, an adaptation of Pokemon Mystery Dungeon.

Emily and Paxton - A witch and her familiar (very rough stages, only characters)

Of Magical Things - a hunter moves into an apartment building that is well known for hosting magical creatures and people in hopes to infiltrate and destroy them from the inside. She poses as a witch, and things get sticky when she starts to actually become one (very early stages)

Up Old Hawk Road - (Supernaturalists side story) Lynn lives in a home full of other supernaturalists, wander the property, and falls in love with a boy. Now how to keep the true nature of her ‘family’ a secret from him.

Arius and Enoch - two brother (very early stages)

Lady of the Estate - the many murders of Lady Macbeth (preferably a series of painting exploring the character)

Aerodynamic - The story of superheroes, human experiments, and found family.

The Sun Warrior - fighting until she is burnt out (very early stages, only vague concept)

Stardust - after fighting the darkness, a deity falls to the planet, becoming a young child.

#the easts stories #story ideas #plotbunny #plot bunny

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illuma-can-you-not-i · 4 years

Text

Every time Sojiro Sakura was the entire Phantom Thieves' Dad: Akechi

Sojiro may be getting older, but he certainly wasn't getting any dumber.

He saw the pain behind Akira's eyes when he stepped through the door after being held in police custody and--god--getting shot in the face. He had no trouble finding the bags under the poor boy's eyes after a sleepless night. He heard the cracks in the boy's voice from screaming in his nightmares. He remembered, clear as day, when the poor boy stepped through his cafe door and ran to him in tears. And since then, there's been a hint of sadness, of grief, every time he spoke. For a while there, he retreated back into his shell, turning into the quiet, resigned boy he met in April, who just stood and nodded and took whatever was given to him.

So when the light-brown-haired teenager responsible for all that trouble, all that pain, casually stepped through his door, he just about choked on his cigarette.

"You better as hell have a good reason as to why I don't send you out right now.", the man growled. Despite the offensive tone, though, the teen didn't seem intimidated or apprehensive. In fact, it was almost as if he hardly had any emotion at all. "...I just came back from the dead?", he attempted with dry humor, wincing as he felt the energy in the room. Sojiro gave him a cold glare. "...And... I'm here... to apologize.", he admitted with a much softer tone. Sojiro scoffed. "You tried to kill my son, tried to frame my kids, all for some political sham. How do you think you could possibly apologize enough to have me forgive you?"

Akechi gave a long, quiet sigh. "I do not require your forgiveness. I am simply here to tie up loose ends.", was his reasoning as he carefully took a seat at the bar. His tone was quiet, and his wording was slow and deliberate; he was choosing his words very carefully.

"You see, I would like to say that my mental state is a recent development, but...that would be a lie.", he started, staring at the dark drown wood of the counter with a fixed concentration. "I admit that I may not know you all that well, but I doubt you've ever had to deal with abandonment, Sakura-san.", the boy who had eyes far too old for a teenager's almost whispered, barely glancing up at the man before returning to stare at the countertop. The day that he was given the news of Wakaba's passing came to mind. The first time he had looked into Futaba's eyes since she had followed after. "I doubt you've ever had to deal with the feeling of hopelessness, the despair that comes from it. The realization that you never had a purpose, that you didn't belong in this world.", he described in a smooth tone of voice, as if he was telling a whimsical story to a child.

"I was a nuisance, and no one wanted me. I had no chance of going on. So, when a man in power offers you a job position that allows you to be a monumental stepping stone in a grand scheme of change, to bring about the better of society, who was I to even consider denial?"

Goro still remembers his own awakening, clear as day. The day, the hour, the moment Robin Hood offered to allow him to grant justice to those who had been cruelly turned away from it. He also remembered the first time Loki offered him the better deal. Justice was only part of his desire, he had realized. It was revenge he was truly after. Even if it was secondhand. Revenge for the people who turned him away, revenge for the sorry excuse of a father who had left him, revenge for the group of teenagers, actual children who had fought against him, everything he had stood for, and yet, naively, still tried to treat him as an equal.

But he never was.

That much has always been obvious.

"Cool story, still murder.", Sakura remarked with a cold tone, trying to withhold a scoff. All the sob stories in the world don't make up for the fact that he is still a murderer. He consciously and intentionally took lives, while having every opportunity to step down, to say no, and didn't.

Akechi didn't seem taken aback in the slightest, however. In fact, he looked to the man, as if expecting him to insult the teen further. He looked back down at the cup when he realized it wasn't the case. "True. I truly have no excuse for my actions. I had become twisted. I was cruel and ruthless and delusional.", he described, his own crazed laugh echoing through his mind like a ringing in his ears. "But now, by some divine power, I suppose, I stand here again. And this time, I'm going to make sure that I put my best foot forward.", he finished, giving Sakura a little fake smile that looked all too familiar to the one he would flash on TV to persuade an audience. Needless to say, it didn't work.

"That's great and all, but how do I know I can trust you?" Akechi smiled, clearly expecting this question. "Well, for one, I'm no longer a 'Detective Prince'. I don't have any sort of authority; if that soothes your worry any.", he started with an apathetic tone. Sojiro furrowed his brows in confusion and a little bit of surprise.

The young man looked back down at the counter after seeing his expression. "Surprisingly, the police force was unwilling to give a man who was supposed to be dead his job back.", the harsh passive-aggressiveness in his voice was enough to make the man grimace. "That's rough, buddy.", he remarked, offering a light-hearted sort of sympathy. Akechi huffed out a bit of a laugh in response. "I just can't believe they replaced me so quickly.", he remarked as Sojiro put a fresh cup of coffee in front of him.

Glancing rapidly between the cup and the man, Akechi slowly took the cup and gave a little sip. A nostalgic feeling swept over him, almost overwhelming his senses. He almost welcomed it, though trying to fight the feeling of the comforting atmosphere letting him relax. He was here on a mission: to apologize, explain himself, and begin the process of turning over a new leaf. And so, he continued on.

"Secondly, everything I could have listed as a motive turned out to be a hoax, planned on the basis of my utter ignorance. Just getting used again, with the plan of getting swept under the carpet when all is said and done.", he described, taking a long sip of the warm beverage, keeping the cup in his hands as he thought aloud. The teen shook his head, a look of frustration at himself taking over.

"It was plain as day, too. But I actually thought that a man who employed me to take out his enemies while he put on a public face was actually going to go through on his deal." As he spoke, his eyes glassed over, void of any emotion. He took a final swig of the coffee and barked a short, humorless laugh. "God, I'm gullible.", he chided under his breath with a heavy sigh.

Akechi set his money on the table and stood up, bowing in gratitude for the hospitality. "I'm off to the courthouse. See if they can legally make me not dead. I'll contact the others when I'm done. May get a haircut while I'm at it.", he listed off, absent-mindedly grabbing the end of a strand of hair and twisting it beneath his fingers.

"Oh, Kaori runs a salon not far from the subway station.", he offered, before his mind finally clicked with what had left his mouth. He really just called Ryuji's mom by her first name, huh. "She, uh, she's cheap, in comparison to most in the area. Does a good service. Plus, if you manage to convince him to go with you, I'm pretty sure she does Ryuji's friends for free." "I didn't realize you two were close." Sojiro shrugged, crossing his arms as he looked away in embarrassment. "It's a recent development.", he quickly explained, trying to get away from the conversation topic.

"Am I on good terms with you?", the teenager slowly asked, looking down at the floor in anticipation. Sojiro took a huff of his cigarette, taking the opportunity to really get a look at the kid before making his decision. The way he stood there, awaiting his decision, reminded him an awful lot of Akira when he first walked into the cafe. In that case, the two of them did seem awfully similar. Both were dealt a shitty hand from the beginning, given an opportunity to fix it, and that's where they began to separate.

A part of the man groaned, going on about how he should have kicked him out from the start, not to listen to a word that this guy had to say. But another part of him knew that people could, can, and will change. After all, Akira was far from the same kid he was back in April. Maybe Akechi could change too, if given the right push.

"...Getting there. Starting, at least.", he summarized. Goro perked up, looking at the man with wide eyes; he was genuinely surprised by that answer. "More specific, please?", he asked, his voice barely above a whispering volume. The man sighed, scratching his chin as he tried to put the details into words. "For everything you put them through, both my kids and so many other people, I still don't forgive you, not for a second, but... I won't turn you away at the door."

The wide eyes softened, showing a sign of relief as the teen visibly relaxed at the response. It was just speculation, but Sakura thought he had seen a spark of joy in his expression as well. A more genuine smile began to take form as he looked at the man, and kept his gaze there. "That's pleasing to hear. In that case, I hope to see you soon, Sakura-senpai.", he bid as a farewell, bowing again before making his leave.

#persona 5 #sojiro sakura #goro akechi #this was so hard to write #i'm not an akechi fan #not at all #Fatherson #kind of #if you squint #I think he's better in Royal though #this one' s for you fangirls #apologies

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vargnir · 4 years

Text

world & lore masterpost.

here’s a whole drop of lore, monsters, magic, humans & various other things in fenrirs main canon for those interested. mostly it just serves as a guide for me to orient on.

all art here was created on artbreeder and doesn’t belond to me because while i can generate i definitely can’t draw.

THE WORLD OF ROTWELSCH.

the world itself is split into four different continents; anvel, halmel, nimdal & mucuri.

whereas anvel and nimdal prosper, halmel has been ravaged by war and famine and mucuri struggles against a neverending influx of darkness & monsters terrorizing it’s people.

anvel lies on the northern parts of the world and is filled with plentiful rivers & seas, water plays a major key in the continent and it’s countries have unified to form the northern kingdoms. it’s people know all there is to possibly know about water and its inhabitants, they live with the sea and prefer to worship water-related gods. the northern kingdoms are more secluded from the rest of the world and prefer to live their lives privately. though certain countries within their unions are slowly starting to open trades with other nations across the world more and more.

nimdal lies southern of the world, its kingdoms have the most varying climates; countries like stanlow and aynor are plagued by heat and deserts but rare and sought after plants and animals that enables them to afford wells and water supplies. countries like claethor, tranmere or strathmore are rich of vegetation, filled with large forests and jungles alike, a plentiful fauna enriching their nations. northern countries like wolfden and glenarm are filled with snow; cold and ruthless but bringing mountains over mountains filled to the brim with minerals and precious materials and gems with them.

halmel lacks population and resources across the formerly glorious continent in total; a war between itself and a long since vanished fifth continent left it in ruins all across its formerly rich environments. its countries have long ceased to exist and halmel at this point is considered one big kingdom in itself. bandits have easy play here and terrorize poor village people. to top it off monsters from mucuri have slowly begun finding their ways over and have begun making the vast, empty lands of halmel their homes. halmels general climate is a foggy, almost ceaselessly rainy and gloomy one.

mucuri used to be the most prosperous continent amongst them all, as well as the centre of all of rotwelsch. though it is unsure of what happened all that is known is that once, a long time ago, a man who called himself the harbinger of the gods stepped foot onto mucurian land and eventually monsters began flooding from everywhere, creatures of such malevolence and hatred that ever since the world has only called the man, who revealed himself to be a cursed wolf, tortured by cruel humans and craving to bring forth the end of the world, demise. ever since the cities and nations have been living in fear, trying to live a somewhat normal life at daytime and locking themselves closed and in at nighttime, praying to whichever god will hear them that they survive another night of slaughter around them.

CREATURES OF ROTWELSCH.

HUMANS.

humans are the primary race of rotwelsch, though certain nations or even continents live peacefully amongst other people ( such as anvelians live peacefully with certain oceanic inhabitants ) whereas others live in fear of creatures not humanoid in nature. humans born under special circumstances may have an affinity for magic whereas others may have a special connection to nature. those born with special abilities oftentimes are shunned by their kin and live in villages or towns of their own amongst their kind.

TIEFSEA.

a humanoid race of fish originated creatures adapting to life further away from deepsea. having made a deal with humans tiefsea are usually found lurking near port towns and occasionally even found sitting in bars. they are capable of surviving short amounts of time without water ( when trained up to a week ) but will dry out over time. they take on differing forms inspired by several animals found in the oceans. their appearance usually resembles fish more than humans in skin and facial features, though their body structure usually is more human. imagine zoras from legend of zelda but a tad more monstrous.

THE BROKEN.

former mortals corrupted by darkness and turned into husks of their former self and forced into submission by demise. while groups of them will attack villages and towns singular ones will target homes on the outskirts to either kill or find more suitable subjects for demise. some of them retain a sense of self somewhere deep within and it is not a rare occurance to hear the desperate cry of a broken fighting against its own instincts and mind. their appearane usually is vaguely humanoid with their bones and skin growing and hardening into sort of an armor.

THE PLAGUES.

creatures of unknown origin, some more humanoid than others. there are vast differences within plagues, some are small and fast while others are hulking brutes with raw power. the only similarity is that they seem to be able to communicate with each other and that each time they get cut their limbs and wounds can regenerate. their blood is acidic in nature and can burn through human flesh like it is nothing; because of that they are more feared than the broken. it is not uncommon to find a giant plague accompanied by a smaller, fast plague which turns them into deadly duos you have to be on the lookout for at the same time.

THE PREDATORS.

predators are a deadly kind; humans who are still completely capable of thinking but have lost all will of their own, incapable of making decisions for themselves they have been turned into deadly assassins by the darkness and make formidable foes. while it is assumed that their appearance is largely unchanged they are covered from head to toe in what appears to be dark coloured robes made completely out of void mass and pure corruption. one touch from them can prove poisonous to most, should they choose a quick death for their victims. their ability to think makes most of them unpredictable and causes them to be the most feared out of all the races in rotwelsch.

THE CURSED.

the cursed are beings like fenrir who have been wounded by magic and whose animalistic nature was meant to be subdued in favor of a humanoid nature. their appearance is mostly human though part of their animal origins is retained; for fenrir it is his ears and tail, for certain others it could be their antlers or even fins. the cursed are rare, incredibly so to the point they are mostly considered legends. but a handful of them exist, and while not all of them possess demonic blood like fenrir they still possess more abilities than the average human, all granted by their origin nature. cursed will usually live in isolation, though very few select ones will live among humans as their own, disguising their animal traits with magic in order to fit in.

OTHERS.

there is a vast amount of races within rotwelsch that have yet to be known by the majority of the world; even the tiefsea have only recently created contact with humans and with the current abundance in magic there is no telling what other beings are out there.

MAGIC IN ROTWELSCH.

magic is highly frowned upon in rotwelsch; it is considered the origin of demise and the reason darkness has befallen the world. people born with magic abilities are often abandoned at birth or taught from an early age to suppress their nature. fearing the power it bears most of humanity has dedicated itself to eradicating all magic from their lives whereas others, more powerhungry, cruel beings have taken it upon themselves to seek out people with magical properties to turn them into a part of their armies.

with all different kinds of magic it is almost impossible to keep track of all of them, and yet the gods know. they give and take magical abilities as they see fit and design the powers as they wish. in certain areas in the world humans with magic and cursed live together in peace, both shunned by a world too fearful to see the beauty in their existence.

THE END OF THE WORLD.

from prophecies long foretold three children will bring the end of times upon the world;

one cursed from birth, meant to grow until it can swallow the sun from the sky and devor the king of kings before it releases eternal darkness upon the world.

one born from death, meant to command the forces of the dead to end the lives of all creatures wandering the earth.

one born from betrayal, whose rage will be the catalyst to the worlds end until it swallows everything that is left to destroy.

FENRIR THINGS FROM MY OLD PINNED POST.

fenrir is known in his world / his main verse. a fourty feet wolf that devours monsters big and small while keeping most humans relatively unharmed? yeah, that’s a pretty big conversation topic around the world he lives in, especially given he travels everywhere.

but it is not necessarily a good thing; even if he leaves humans unharmed he is a monstrosity; a beast. most people fear him and those who see the form he uses to walk among people for what it is in it’s entirety usually shun him.

fenrir doesn’t like interacting with people in any verse; he’s so used to being mistreated that he’d rather help silently and disappear without talking to anyone

he hates being thanked; he doesn’t think he deserves it and he generally dislikes the thought of people thinking that what he did to help them was anything but natural.

usually the only words he does speak to people are actually “don’t thank me.” before they even open their mouth

his voice is hoarse and rough because he barely talks. the most he can do without his throat burning is a short sentence, so never expect him to be very engaging in conversation.

because of that he’s made up his own little sign language --- most people don’t really get it unless they know him a bit better

there is a special guild trying to hunt him down because they know more about his curse than fenrir himself does

one of their “members” (he’s pretty much independent but relies on them for information) is a young man from the village fenrir saved when he lost his arm. he doesn’t necessarily want to kill fenrir but he does want to stop his curse from breaking free

he tries to befriend wildlife and smaller animals but they’re usually scared of him, except for one bird that follows him everywhere because he saved its life once.

it’s a robin!

he doesn’t keep food on his person other than some bread slices so he can feed his little bird companion

he thinks he’s not a good person --- nor even a person at all; it’s why he tries so hard to better himself, why he helps everyone.

he’s very harsh on himself, too

while his human form has a metallic prosthetic for his lost arm his wolf form actually has black matter to replace it; it’s more slimy in texture and practically radiates bad energy --- it comes from his curse

he’s ashamed of his ears and tails

he’s also ashamed of his scars

he gets flustered and embarrassed by even the most vague compliments

if you ever manage to break through his shell he’s very soft.

this is a wip and will be reworked over time to come !

#* PSA !#* WORLD TBT !#&. 《 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 & 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 / HEADCANON.

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cakesunflower · 5 years

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Liability [Peaky Blinders!Calum AU] Part 1

Liability—A person or thing whose presence or behavior is likely to put one at a disadvantage.

Summary: Being the daughter of the Police Captain meant Karina Garner should’ve kept her distance from Calum Hood, the notorious leader of the Peaky Blinders. It certainly didn’t mean she should agree to work for him, especially when Calum had underlying motives up his sleeves.

A/N: this is part 1 of my Calum AU that’s based around the tv show Peaky Blinders! if you haven’t watched it, it’s basically a show about a gang in 1920′s Birmingham led by the ever-so-fearsome Tommy Shelby--who, in this fic, is replaced by Calum, obviously.

it’s important for y’all to remember this fic is based in the early to mid 1920′s, so some dialogue or exposition or plot points might seem a bit strange or different than what you’re used to reading from me but remember--this is a different time period! keep that in mind, and happy reading!!

Liability—A person or thing whose presence or behavior is likely to put one at a disadvantage.

Part 1

Waking up in her childhood bedroom had been disorienting, not entirely remembering what she was doing there. But then the exhaustion she’d fallen asleep in caught up and Karina remembered her long journey back to Birmingham. She recalled the reason why she moved back and let out a tired, defeated sigh. Her return to her hometown wasn’t under the happiest of circumstances, but she wasn’t as heartbroken as one would expect. She was a grieving friend, maybe, but nowhere near a grieving widow. Never had Karina wanted to become someone who married just for the sake of being married, but that’s how life turned out, that’s what was expected from them. Archie, a wealthy investment banker from New York, had taken an interest in her; her family had approved, and that was that. Honestly if Karina truly hadn’t wanted to marry him, she could’ve protested and her parents would’ve listened. But Archie had been nice enough, handsome and rich and a way out of Birmingham.

Until none of that was worth it. Until he was gone.

Too many mistresses and refusing to let her work were suffered through for two years too long. When she didn’t want to give him a child when he was ready, things had taken a turn for the worse for their already deteriorating marriage, a mismatch made in hell with a constantly fueled fire. Then Archie fell sick, like he was dying from the inside, until he took his last breath, giving Karina a way out of an unhappy marriage and the money he left behind for her.

A bit tactless for her to think, and even a bit cruel, but he’d spent nearly their entire marriage treating her less than she—or anyone—deserved and Karina was not about to spend her time grieving over a man who viewed her as property to be invested in.

“Morning, love,” her mother greeted as she entered the kitchen, robe tied around her as she joined her dad and brother at the table. “Egg and toast?”

Karina sleepily hummed her agreement before pouring herself some tea. “How did you sleep?” her father asked, already dressed in his captain’s uniform, finishing off toast lathered in jam.

“Brilliant,” Karina answered truthfully, recalling how her eyes shut the second her head hit the pillow. Looking at Sean, she asked, “Don’t you have work?”

Her twenty-one year old brother scrunched his face in annoyance. “I’ll go when I’m bloody done eatin’,” he spoke through a mouthful of eggs, prompting Karina to twist her own expression in disgust. Once he swallowed the bite, he said, “Everyone wants to go out for drinks tonight to welcome you back.”

Karina lowered the cup after swallowing her of tea, a wry smile on her lips. “You mean to drown me in alcohol so I’m not too heartbroken over Archie’s death and the fact that I’m a widow.”

Her mum clicked her tongue, placing Karina’s breakfast in front of her. “His passing is sad—you can pretend to be grieving. Plus, you’re twenty-four, love. You’ll find someone who truly deserves you. He’s out there, by God’s grace,” she added, her slight rough Irish accent something Karina missed.

But she shrugged, almost sadly at the loss of Archie and the thought of her marriage coming apart so quickly before his death, despite being glad not being stuck in something that didn’t make her happy. She wasn’t heartless; she spent two years of her life with that man, and while most of them weren’t happy moments, he’d still been a constant in her life. For all his faults, he didn’t deserve to die, but Karina wasn’t going to pretend she’d lost the love of her life, when she definitely had not. Still—no doubt her mum’s friends would talk, and while Karina liked to think she didn’t care what people said about her, she could only pretend so much.

Her dad cleared his throat before pointing at her. “Listen to your mum. We’ll shift your things to the flat tomorrow. I best be off.”

Karina looked at him with jade colored eyes, raising her eyebrows. She was staying at her family home just upon her arrival, but Karina had a flat that was a fifteen minute walk from the home that she was ready to move into. She’d lived in it for a year before her marriage, almost as a way of preparing herself for independence despite her family being so close. It was unfortunate she barely got a taste of it when she moved to America and was told to only adhere to Archie’s demands. “You’re leaving already?”

The police captain scoffed, picking up his hat. “Crime never rests—especially if it’s the Peaky Blinders.”

He left a few moments later, the front door slamming sounding his exit, and Karina looked at her mum and Sean and frowned. “The Blinders still give him trouble?”

Mrs. Garner sat to Karina’s right, letting out a breath as she prepared her tea. “Honestly, I think it’s the other bloody way around most of the time.” A disapproving expression matched her tone. “Likes to press on them when they’re not even outwardly doin’ anything.”

Sean scoffed as Karina listened with interest. “He’s lucky Calum Hood doesn’t condone killin’ coppers or else Dad would be dead ten times over by now. The Blinders are dangerous as ever and fucking terrifying but they protect us just as much as the coppers. Dad just doesn’t like sharing the glory.”

Their mum clicked her tongue. “Sean.”

Karina let out a breath, raising her eyebrows at her little brother. “You sound like a fan,” she pointed out, to which he only shrugged, and Karina found her thoughts suddenly consisting of the Peaky Blinders.

More importantly, Calum Hood—a name she knew and a face she hadn’t seen in a few years. He was the leader of the Peaky Blinders, founding the gang after returning from the war, and expanding their business and notoriety within a matter of months. A household name, not one to ever be fucked with unless someone wanted their eyes or tongues cut. They weren’t quiet about their dealings, were proud of their work, and had the entire town’s fear and respect in the palms of their hands—especially Calum. Always walked around as people moved out of his way, with the razor blade glinting in his cap, cigarette between his lips, and ring clad fingers ready to throw punches if need be.

The town also had the Blinders’ promised protection, which made work for the coppers harder, since no one would dare go against the Calum Hood and the Blinders. No one wanted to bite the hand that was feeding them.

Karina knew of Calum; had gone to school with him when they were children until he dropped out later in the years to help his family, and then she’d only see him around town. Then he had left for the war, and just a little while after his return as a war hero, Karina left for America. She knew the Peaky Blinders started around the time she had left, but her family never mentioned him in any of their letters—why would they?—and Karina never really thought about the dark haired man who was, more or less, making her father’s life a hell.

She wasn’t going to lie; she’d definitely felt a shiver creep down her back when her brother so airily mentioned her father escaping death just because Calum Hood said so. It made her wonder just how powerful her old school mate had gotten over the years. How the mere mention of his name made most men she knew quiver in their shoes and run the other way. How the quiet boy with the full cheeks she used to see in the classroom had grown to be an illegal activities dealing, killer gangster. It all sounded almost surreal, but Karina guessed there was a fine line between delirium and reality.

After breakfast and drawing a bath, she changed into a simple outfit of a white button down blouse tucked into a long maroon skirt before spending the day with her mother. They had lunch, ran some errands, and then Karina joined her mum and her friends for some late afternoon tea.

“So, you poor thing, what are you going to do now?”

Karina pursed her lips as she swallowed her sip of tea, forcing the smile to remain on her face. She may love her mum, but Karina should learn to say no to tea with her friends. The old birds always had something to say, and now that Karina was back after losing a husband, she wasn’t surprised they wanted to gossip about her, clearly having no respect for the loss of a life.

“You don’t have to poor thing me,” Karina assured with a sweet smile, light brown hair framing her pretty face. “I’m perfectly alright. Might find me-self a job.”

“Karina’s very fast with numbers,” her mum piped in with a proud smile. “She can land a job at one of the banks.”

Karina smiled, grateful for her mum’s support. She knew her mum felt guilty for what happened, for even letting her daughter marry a man who made her live a life less happy than what she deserved, even though Karina had agreed to the marriage in the first place. She didn’t blame her parents; it was life. Sometimes it was shit, and though her husband might be dead and she mourned the loss of a life, she didn’t mourn the loss of a husband—no matter how much of a bitch that may make her sound.

“A job?” one of the women, Mrs. Nelson, guffawed. “You should find another husband, not a job.” She laughed, looking to the other laugh women. “The only work a woman should be doin’ is housework and raisin’ kids.”

The other women chuckled and murmured in agreement and Karina exchanged a flat, unimpressed look at her mother. She wasn’t all too surprised at the women’s way of thinking; they were all housewives, did nothing but cook and clean and raise their children. Not that there was anything wrong with that—Karina just didn’t want only that to be all she did in life. She wanted a little more, something less mundane. Something that gave her a purpose.

Honestly, Karina wasn’t sure how she survived the day with her mum’s friends, the women doing nothing but boasting about their children and grandchildren. The amount of cigarette breaks Karina took weren’t enough to keep her sane.

But then the night fell and it was time to head out for drinks with her friends. Karina put on one of her finer dresses, ruby in color and flattering, and she was looking forward to seeing everyone. It wasn’t until they were approaching the familiar pub that Karina shot her brother a look. “Should we even be here?” she questioned suspiciously. “If we don’t die in there then dad will surely kill us.”

Sean snickered, tossing the cigarette butt as the gravel crunched beneath their feet, the iron and coal scent of the factories around them digging into Karina’s nose as they approached the Garrison. “Sheffer’s is closed for renovation—Garrison’s the nearest pub, Karina. Besides, nothin’s gonna happen to us. Been here loads of times,” Sean reassured, holding the door open for Karina as she almost reluctantly walked in, following the few friends they were with, eyes flickering about to take in her surroundings almost cautiously.

Karina was hesitant upon entering the bar, knowing that it was the one owned by the Peaky Blinders themselves, buying it out after the gang gained their rightful notoriety. It’s where their men spent their time when they weren’t working, along with the factory laborers, and Karina knew from her brother that this was where Calum Hood often was as well, if he wasn’t out conducting Blinder business. Karina couldn’t help but think it was a risk coming here, being the daughter of the police captain, but she trusted her brother. If he said they’d be fine, she would believe it until they weren’t.

It looked newer than she remembered; a shining gold theme lining the walls and bar tops, circular tables in the middle with high red cushioned stools while booths lined up the walls as well, matching cushioned seats for those as well. The warmth in the pub was a pleasant welcome in exchange of the cold night of Birmingham outside, the air heavy with the familiar and ever present scent of tobacco, a deep breath escaping Karina at the loudness she was suddenly surrounded by. Men and women busied up the pub, and the live band playing upbeat music on a higher up platform on the back left of the room was a nice surprise to Karina. Last time she remembered, the Garrison wasn’t nearly as done up as it was now. The Blinders—Calum—had truly put in the work for a makeover.

The Garrison had never been much to look at, but things had obviously changed upon the Blinders’ acquiring of it.

Karina admired her surroundings, briefly oblivious to the few stares she—not the people she was with—was receiving upon her arrival. One of the first things she noticed was how the pub consisted of both men and women, when at a time, it was only the men who worked in the factories that would drop a few pounds at the Garrison. Though now, the patrons look almost as classy as the pub. But as her gaze happened to wash over a few of the customers, Karina noticed the stares. Noticed the few double takes and curious looks that were suddenly accompanied by whispered conversations, menacing over the music playing. No doubt they were all privy to the reason of her return to Small Heath, maybe they were even questioning why the daughter of the police captain was in a known Peaky Blinders establishment, even if she was with her brother who apparently frequented this place.

Though, he was a man. Double standards often ran high in a town as small as the name it was given.

Neck tensing, Karina tried to ignore the looks, instead following her company to an open table while Sean and Joseph went to the bar to get drinks. Karina hopped on a stool, the soft material of her dress flowing against her legs as she pulled out her pack of cigarettes and a lighter. The first inhale managed to relax her, hoping those staring would realize there wasn’t much to look at and go back to minding their own business. Honestly, Karina didn’t care much if they talked—that’s all what people liked to do—but it was the staring. It prickled at her skin, as if their gazes drove needles into her nerves and paralyzed her, forced her to notice every single look she was receiving.

“Pay no attention to them.” Karina blew out a delicate puff of smoke at her best friend Joyce’s words. The brunette shook a curly lock of hair from her face, fingers gripping her own cigarette as she kept her gaze on Karina. “Just focus on enjoying the night, hmm?”

Karina raised an eyebrow, chuckling wryly under the sound of her friends chattering, noticing Sean and Joseph returning with the drinks. “You mean enjoy the night commemorating the loss of my husband?”

It was awful and heartless, Karina knew, to be doing this. She only justified it by claiming that she wasn’t celebrating Archie’s death. She was just grateful to be out of a relationship that lacked any ounce of love and respect. No harm in celebrating that, was there?

Joyce rolled her eyes, tapping the cigarette over the ashtray on the center of the table. There was a hint of a red circle lining her cigarette where her lipstick touched, Karina’s cigarette the same. “I mean enjoy the night commemorating your escape from an unfit marriage,” Joyce corrected, practically reading Karina’s thoughts.

The shot glasses were filled to the brim, and the smile on Karina’s face was genuine and easy as she and her friends lifted their glasses, clinked them together to cheers and even spilled some onto the table, before drinking their glasses dry. The vodka burned Karina’s throat gloriously, lips upturned and eyes screwing shut briefly as the drink sizzled down and settled in the pit of her stomach.

She enjoyed the company of her friends—friends she hadn’t seen in too long and had been left to only writing to them—with their two tables being littered with glasses and ashtrays filling up with the cigarettes being smoked. For the first time in a while, Karina genuinely enjoyed the people she was with, never having gotten used to being around Archie’s American friends who swam in money and childishly poked fun at her accent when they’d had too many illegal drinks in the safety of their homes. Her life in America, though one with money, had been unfulfilling. Archie’s death, though it was sad, offered Karina the opportunity to go back to her old life in Birmingham with the people she knew—and with Archie’s money as his widow.

Still, Karina recalled her conversation with her mother and her friends earlier that day; she may have Archie’s money, but she also wanted a purpose. Sitting around at home with nothing to do sounded just as mind-numbing as attending one of Archie’s friends’ dinners. Some kind of excitement in her life may do Karina some good—though finding it in Small Heath, that seemed like asking for a favor too big for the small town to deliver.

Eventually, Karina excused herself from her friends and wandered towards the bar, ignoring the few eyes that still lingered on her as she went. She paid for her drink, pausing at the bar to take a sip before she made a move to go back to her friends. She sipped, eyeing the various bottles sat on the shelves, remembering how the only way she’d been able to have a taste of alcohol in America was through private events where Archie and his friends somehow got their hands on alcohol that was banned across the country, the Prohibition Act that weighed upon the citizens having a tight grip on all alcohol.

So Karina savored her drink, allowing herself to lean her hip against the bar as she enjoyed it, only to regret the decision when a man taller and older than her, probably mid-thirties, came to stand to her right at the bar. He faced her, and Karina hated that she could actually feel his eyes drink in the sight of her, his stare unwarranted and unwelcome. Whatever was about to happen in the next few minutes, she was sure to not like.

“A lovely lady like yourself shouldn’t be drinking alone. Especially here, being the Police Captain’s daughter and all.” Karina tried not to roll her eyes at the man’s words, though she failed to ignore the way her skin crawled under his prickling gaze. Honestly, one would think being the captain’s only daughter would keep unwanted eyes away from her, and most of the time it worked. However, there were always the few courageous lads that tried their hand in hoping to impress her, especially at pubs, especially when they were older than her. They failed more often than not.

Karina put down her glass, the whiskey running smoothly down her throat as she raised an unimpressed eyebrow at the nameless stranger. If he knew who her father was, then he surely had to know of her only recent single status; did he truly believe Karina was wholly willing to entertain some random man at a pub after the death of her husband? Not that she was a grieving widow or anything—no more so than she pretended she had to be so she didn’t appear completely heartless. A tricky slope to live on, but Karina had never entirely been one to care much for what others thought, even in her compact community of Small Heath.

“But I’m not alone,” she responded innocently, offering a close mouthed smile as she rested her hip against the bar, raising an eyebrow at the man. “My friends and brother are right there. So your charming company isn’t required.”

The mocking sarcasm in her tone was quite heavy and Karina watched as irritation flashed across the man’s gray colored eyes, apparently not appreciative of her mild dig at him. He straightened to his full height, not the tallest man she’d seen but easily towering over her, as his expression tightened. Karina wasn’t entirely intimidated, not with her friends just a few tables away. Still, she didn’t appreciate trying to be scared into some type of submission. It was exhausting being a woman having to live in a man’s world.

“You’ve got quite a mouth on you, haven’t ya?” he sneered, eyes narrowing down at her, body shifting as a way of trying to step into her personal space. Karina’s teeth clenched. “Just ’cause your dad’s the captain doesn’t mean shit around here, sweetheart.”

For a betraying moment, Karina wondered if her father’s position in the police force meant anything at all.

Just as that thought fluttered across her mind, Karina heard the soft thudding sound of the pub doors opening over the music playing and people chattering, and instantly any sign of irritation wiped from her face at the sight of the man entering the Garrison. The man in front of her held no importance anymore—not that he ever did in the first place—as a familiar face entered the bar with all of the casual confidence in the world, instantly drawing the attention of everyone inside upon the opening of the doors.

Calum Hood walked in, his three piece dark grey suit pristine and crisp with a silver vest chain glinting in the light, a cigarette hanging from his plump lips while a cap that matched his suit rested atop dark curls. Ring clad fingers reached up to grasp the cigarette, dark eyes intuitively scanning the faces crowding his pub as a cloud of smoke curled out of his mouth, and Karina had to force herself to look away, not wanting to be caught staring for too long, and refocus her attention on finishing her drink as he walked further into the bar.

She downed the rest of her alcohol, setting the glass down as she vaguely heard the patrons going out of their way to greet Calum—an overenthusiastic “Evenin’, Mr. Hood!” here and a nervous “How are you, Mr. Hood?” there—not wanting to at all appear as if they were ignoring him, which was only a small hint to display the power he held. As Karina shifted to go back to her table, she quite honestly hadn’t realized she had completely forgotten about the man that had been attempting to chat her up until she began to turn away and was stopped by his hand grasping her wrist.

Karina stopped, blinking her widened eyes before following the hand up the length of the arm until she looked at the man holding her with an incredulous and slightly annoyed expression. “Didn’t your copper father tell you it’s rude to walk away from someone tryin’ to have a conversation with ya?”

Her jaw tightened, teeth grinding together as she stared at this man, older than her and relentless. Sometimes she truly wondered if the male species was even born with basic manners etiquette. Damn neanderthals. “He taught me how to deliver a punch if need be,” Karina responded, hoping to keep her voice calm despite the warning tilt that crept in as she spoke through gritted teeth.

The man laughed, as if what she had said was comical, only serving to quickly irritate Karina as her jaw tightened even more. He looked down at her, the jeering evident in his eyes as he raised doubtful eyebrows, the amused grin wide on his face, clearly taking her and her threat as joke as he taunted, “Oh, you’re gonna punch me, are ya?”

“There’ll be nothin’ of the sort.”

The sound of the new voice, raspy and deep with a lazy, almost uncaring drawl, had the man’s face blanching, Karina couldn’t help but notice. The color drained from his face as he straightened immediately, hand releasing Karina’s wrist, which she instantly pulled towards herself before looking to her right. It was then did she realize why the guy in front of her seemed to appear as though he’d been visited by a ghost.

“Mr. Hood, h—good evening.” Karina would’ve found it comical, how the stranger suddenly transformed into a bumbling idiot in front of a man who was obviously younger than him, if she wasn’t too busy staring at the newcomer in her own haze of wonder. She hadn’t seen him in years, but even with Calum Hood merely standing next to her, Karina could see why every soul in their town and beyond was absolutely terrified of him.

She couldn’t quite understand it, how someone had the power to appear so intimidating when they were doing nothing but standing there. Calum stood with the cigarette hanging between his lips, a thin stream of smoke curling from the end of it, with hands buried in the pockets of his expensive coat. The expression on his face, with dark eyes glued to the man, just appeared as though Calum had much better things to do then interfere in this conversation, and Karina knew that he most likely did—but stepping in had been done out of his own volition. And it confused her, making her unable to look away from him and put an end to her surprised yet puzzled expression she watched him with. Briefly, she wondered if everyone else in the pub was looking at them, or if the heat in her body was due to her previous irritation or with the newfound company she was in the presence of.

Calum Hood didn’t spare her a look yet, tilting his head up ever so slightly to look at the man from under the tip of his tweed flat cap. “It will be, once you walk away from Miss Garner,” he returned, the cigarette perfectly held between his lips as he spoke. His tone held no sort of emotion, though the command was somehow still clear as day in his calm voice. It was enough to have Karina’s heart jumping—along with his mention of her. He remembered her. She tracked the way his left hand pulled out of the pocket, fingers grasping the cigarette as the rings he wore glinted against the lights, using it to gesture towards the doorway as he added in finality, “Out, Stuart.”

The man—Stuart—didn’t even pause to argue. Karina watched in skeptic surprise as he gave a nod to Calum, not wanting to spare a moment that could ever possibly look like he was disobeying Calum’s order, barely looking her way as he picked up his hat and shuffled out of the bar, the doors swinging shut behind him. Karina’s gaze had been on him, watching him go, her view obstructed only briefly when Calum moved in front of her to take Stuart’s place.

She barely had a moment to comprehend what had happened when Calum spoke up again. “Leave it to Captain Garner’s daughter to try’n’pick a fight in my pub.” Karina straightened, throat working as Calum leaned his elbow against the bar top, body facing her as she watched him take off his cap. His curls sat perfectly atop his head but that didn’t stop Calum from running his fingers through them once he dropped his cap, the razors sewn into the peak clattering lightly. Stubbing out his cigarette in the glass ashtray on the bar, Calum quirked a lazy eyebrow at Karina. “Does your father know you’re here?”

His dark eyes were hypnotizing as he gazed at her, familiar but not, and Karina had to swiftly snap herself out of whatever trance she had found herself in to answer in a voice she hoped remained indifferent, “My father doesn’t dictate where I go, Mr. Hood. I am my own woman.”

He watched her intently, his gaze far too penetrating for her liking, her stomach turning under his stare along with the pointed Mr. Hood that had slipped from her tongue. Karina tried not to bristle, completely at a loss for what he may be thinking, his expression never giving anything away. She remembered, vaguely, how much of a smiling child he had been; how the fullness of his cheeks rosied whenever he grinned, and while some of that same roundness was still present, it was now accompanied by a stubbly jawline sharp and strong. A small inkling to how much he’d grown.

“A woman who’s apparently grieving,” Calum responded. He spoke in such a lazy, unrushed drawl, like he had all the time in the world and whoever he was speaking to had no choice but to wait for him to finish. Something told Karina that’s exactly how the world in their corner of Small Heath worked; it belonged to Calum Hood, and everyone else was just living in it. He lifted his chin, eyes still on hers, expression void of emotion even as he stated, “Sorry for your loss.”

Karina held back the snort. She doubted he was, doubted there was even a cell in his body that cared. Karina knew she should stop the conversation from flowing right there, should probably excuse herself politely and go back to her table with her friends and brother instead of lingering by the most dangerous man in Birmingham. Standing next to him alone was enough to rattle her bones. Still, her lips pressed together as they quirked up, nail tapping against the rim of her empty glass as she said, “Nothing a good drink can’t help with.”

She saw the subtle quirk of the corner of his lips, so brief that she would’ve missed it had it not been for the fact that she was looking at him, as Calum dragged his eyes towards the bartender and said, “Two whiskeys, Lewis.”

“Scotch or Irish, Mr. Hood?” the bartender asked promptly as Karina eyed him. He looked ready to answer to Calum’s every beck and call.

“Irish,” Calum told him, not bothering to consult with Karina as Lewis instantly went to pour out the drink. His dark eyes met her green ones as he mused, “Should be good enough to mend your broken heart.”

Karina bit the inside of her cheek, giving a tilt of her chin in the form of a subtle head shake as she gathered enough confidence to return smoothly, “Can’t heal what’s not broken.”

Her response, she could tell, intrigued the leader of the Blinders, one eyebrow quirking ever so slightly. Lewis placed their glasses down, but Calum’s eyes remained on Karina as he spoke in his drawling tone, carried over the music still playing throughout the pub, “Marriage didn’t agree with you?”

Was she seriously standing in the middle of the Garrison discussing her marriage with Calum Hood? Karina really would be needing that glass of Irish whiskey to get herself through this. She wondered, briefly, if her brother and friends had noticed just who exactly was in her company; wondered if they were purposefully staying away because it was Calum Hood or because they genuinely had no idea. Either way, Karina couldn’t bring herself to even look away from Calum, despite wanting to. Just gazing at him seemed like a bad idea; like he would suck her into his world and leave her to drown in it.

“My husband didn’t,” she corrected Calum, fingers itching to reach for her glass. He hadn’t reached for his. Karina took a breath, hoping the music would cover up the shuddering sound. “But I’m not one to speak ill of the dead.”

That, she saw, invited an amused smirk to tilt at Calum’s lips, the first true sign of some kind of emotion. Karina tracked the way his lips curled, a boyish expression that was coated with a kind of wickedness that had a shiver running down the length of her spine. It was then that Calum reached for both glasses, rings clinking against the glasses as he handed her one of them, which Karina hesitantly took. Couldn’t exactly turn a drink from Calum Hood away—Karina quickly and almost horrifically realized, in that moment, that she didn’t want to anyway. Just like she didn’t care for the few stares she knew were lingering on the two of them.

“So if the man was the problem and not the concept of marriage itself, I suppose you’re lookin’ for prospective suitors?” Calum hummed, turning his body so his back was against the bar, elbows rested on top as his hand held the glass after he took a sip. His body faced the expanse of his pub, filled with guests, but his head was turned towards Karina.

She felt her heart unnecessarily jump at his question, mind running with asinine possibilities as to why he would ask that of her. Honestly, Karina was still trying to accept the fact that she was having a conversation about marriage—her marriage—with Calum. Surely the leader of the most notorious gang had better things to do than to stand around conversing with a girl he once knew from his childhood about her marital status.

Karina’s throat was dry, both of her hands wrapped around the glass, hip against the bar as she gave a shake of her head. “I’m afraid you’d be wrong.” She noted the quirk of his eyebrow at her as he took a sip of her drink, silently prodding her to explain herself, and Karina pressed her teeth together at the condescending gesture. Was she some kind of pet who would know exactly what to do at the silent command of her owner? It heated her, but Karina wasn’t in the mood for pissing off Calum tonight. So she took a breath and found herself explaining, “I’ve come to understand that I would rather be working then getting married again. For now, at least.”

She waited for him to laugh, throat tight, just like her mother’s friends had when she told them the same thing—though Karina knew if she heard Calum Hood laugh, it would be so shocking that it’d feel like a slap in the face. But instead Calum was silent for a few agonizing seconds, the quiet only filled by the music and other patrons enjoying themselves, until Calum narrowed his dark eyes ever so slightly and pursed his lips before asking, “Are you a whore, Miss Garner?”

It was a good thing Karina hadn’t been sipping at her drink, because Calum’s question would’ve had her choking on it as she gaped at him in indignant surprise. He inquired about it so casually, as if it wasn’t an insult to her to suggest that the only work she was capable of doing was to service men through the likes of her body. If that’s the path some women chose to take, then more power to them, but Karina didn’t see that in her future any time soon.

It unnerved her, how she didn’t see any contempt or taunting in Calum’s eyes when he asked that of her, just curiosity as he stared at her expectantly. Karina wasn’t sure if the question itself was insulting, or the fact that Calum likely genuinely thought that the kind of work Karina was interested in doing was selling her body to whoever paid for it.

Her skin flushed, the tendons in her neck tensing briefly, forcing herself not to let the edge slip into her tone when she spoke up, already growing tired of having to control herself from slipping up in front of Calum at the risk of getting cut. “I’d rather get paid for my efficiency in typing and dealing with numbers than my body, Mr. Hood,” she told him, the hint of disdain at his insinuation involuntarily creeping into her voice. She couldn’t help it, she felt insulted.

At that, something flickered in the dark of Calum’s eyes, watching her intently in thoughtful silence as the pub buzzed around them. Karina was quickly realizing she was beginning to hate being unable to tell what Calum was thinking, particularly when he was watching her in such a way that had her nerves standing up on their ends and heart feeling as though something was forcing it to sink. He looked like he was thinking over something, maybe, and Karina was forced to stand in his silence, busying herself with her drink and wondering what exactly was running through Calum Hood’s wicked mind.

He surprised her by asking, “Your father’s alright with his only daughter stepping into the working world?”

Karina let out a soft yet exasperated breath through her nose, already growing tired of this. It was almost disappointing, how whatever fraction of an interest Calum seemed to have in her to spark conversation derived from the twisted relationship he had with her father. The leader of the Peaky Blinders being the number one target for her Police Captain father wasn’t quiet news; Karina was aware of how tough it was for her dad to ever get a solid hold on Calum Hood. The notorious gangster had more people in his pocket than anyone could count. Hell, Karina was pretty sure there were a few coppers on her dad’s police force that, while they weren’t entirely on Calum’s side, they also didn’t do much to go against him.

Karina felt like a traitor to her father, standing in the Garrison and chatting up Calum Hood, even if the conversation was seemingly innocent. Knowing all her dad wanted to do was put an end to Calum Hood’s reign should’ve been enough of a reason for Karina to never even step foot into this pub. Why didn’t she just walk away?

She took a breath. “Like I said—he doesn’t control what I do.” Karina found herself pushing away from the bar, skin tingling at the way Calum’s eyes tracked her movements. Always watching, always calculating. Somehow, she managed to gather the courage to tell him smoothly, “I didn’t come here to chat about my father, I’m here to enjoy the night with my friends.” Karina took a step away, praying that she wasn’t insulting Calum by walking away from him—she had an inkling that not many people did—but standing around talking to him was making her skin feel as though it was on fire and even though she was ready to walk away, Karina hated the fact that there was a part of her that wanted to stay put. So she raised her glass, the gold liquid dancing within, and she offered the smallest of smiles in the face of being polite. “Thank you for the drink.” As an afterthought, she added, “Mr. Hood.”

God, he never looked away. Karina kind of understood, now, why people moved out of his way the second they realized he was coming their way. A look alone was enough to send their hearts jumping into their throat where he was concerned. Calum tilted his chin up a bit, the corners of his lips lifting into a smirk as he raised his own glass. She saw the glint in his eyes reflecting off the lights of the pub, unsure if it was something she should worry about, as his smooth voice sounded, “Enjoy the Garrison, Miss Garner.”

Karina pressed the tip of her tongue to the back of her lower teeth, the smile still tilting slightly at her lips as she finally found herself turning around to walk away, never faltering despite feeling Calum’s gaze burning her back through the material of her dress. She didn’t dare turn to look at him, not when she knew he was still watching her, his stare enough to have goosebumps rising on her skin as she went.

Her entire body felt tense as she approached her friends, noticed the way a few of them, including Joyce and Sean, were looking at her with various degrees of alarmed expressions painted across their faces. Karina took a breath, knowing the inevitable round of questions about to be fired at her.

“Were you just talking to Calum Hood?” Sean questioned, eyes wide and eyebrows raised as he spoke in a conspiratorial, rushed whisper. He sat opposite of her, arms folded on top of the table as he leaned towards her. Karina wasn’t entirely sure if her brother was pissed or just plainly surprised. He was the one who suggested coming to the Blinders’ bar and Karina knew he didn’t entirely think ill of them, so she wasn’t sure of what her brother’s reaction would be. She wasn’t even sure what her own thoughts were regarding the unexpected and short interaction with Calum.

Before she could answer, Joyce jumped in with an excited whisper of her own, “Did Calum Hood just buy you a drink?”

Karina pursed her lips, not wanting to answer just yet as she raised the glass and took a long sip of her drink. She ignored the stares she was receiving from the two of them, her gaze wandering over to where Calum was standing, noticing how some men were now by his side as they chatted away. The band continued to play music that rang in Karina’s ears, but all of it seemed to drown out when Calum’s gaze met hers, freezing Karina in place and rendering her unable to look away despite her best efforts.

She remained still where she sat, hand tightly gripping her glass as her dark hazel-green eyes remained locked on Calum’s brown despite the distance between them and the few people that passed by that obstructed her view of him for seconds at a time. But he never looked away, absently listening to whatever the man to his right was saying to the group, and Karina felt her heart beginning to thunder within her chest as he watched her watch him. How could a single stare from someone affect her so boldly? And why did she have to be the latest target of Calum Hood’s intense, frighteningly promising gaze?

The weight of his observant stare had Karina’s stomach churning uneasily, only to be accompanied by the anxious, thrilling feeling that this wasn’t the end of what, without her permission or knowledge, had started.

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