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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 2 years

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Have You No Idea That You’re In Deep? [Chapter 3: I Have Claimed You]

Aemond is a fearless, enigmatic prince and the most renowned dragonrider of the Greens. You are a (newly widowed) daughter of House Mormont and a lady-in-waiting to Princess Helaena. You can’t ignore each other, even though you probably should. In fact, you might have found a love worth killing for.

Song inspiration: “Do I Wanna Know?” by Arctic Monkeys.

Chapter warnings: Language, mentions of death and violence, an extremely awkward brunch, one (1) jealous boi, Aegon-related chaos, dragon shenanigans, Aemond speaking High Valyrian, sexual content, fertility/pregnancy discussions, Cast Away 2.0, this fic is for readers 18+!!!

Word count: 5.6k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @crispmarshmallow @tclegane @daddysfavoritesexkitten @poohxlove @imagine-all-the-imagines @nsainmoonchild @skythighs @bratfleck @thesadvampire @yor72 @xcharlottemikaelsonx @mochimommy2002 @loverandqueenofdragons @omgsuperstarg @endless-ineffabilities @devynsshitposts @vencuyot @ladylannisterxo @ariesbabycitlaly @b00kdiary @cranberryjulce @abcdefghi-lmnopqrstuvwxyz @liathelioness @mirandastuckinthe80s @haezen @fairaardirascenarios @penteknati @darkened-writer @weepingfashionwritingplaid @signyvenetia @abrielleholland @crossingallmine @burningcoffeetimetravel @yummycastiel @lol-im-done @lovemissyhoneybee @nomugglesallowed @witchmoon @yoshiplushie @404slayer404 @sunafterthethunder @torchbearerkyle @sweetashoneyhoney @quartzs-posts @lauraneedstochill @nctma15 @queenofshinigamis @rapoficeandfire

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All night you swim in dreams of starlight, dragons, fire, the thrashing ocean, the words he said to you. Such words—escaping like a flood in the red haze of animal lust—are not to be believed, as you well understand. Axel Hightower used to tell you all sorts of things in the throes of his passion as you waited for him to finish, polite and vacant and bored; he used to say that he loved you, which was absolutely ludicrous. Last night in a torchlit stairwell of the Red Keep, Aemond Targaryen had not said that he loved you. What he had vowed instead was this: You are mine, you are mine, you will always be mine.

There is a cascade of sunlight hot on your face. You’ve slept late, yet the castle is still hushed. The courtiers are recovering from dancing and drinking and dining on dinner, dessert, each other. Though his words still ring in your skull, it is not Aemond you see when you open your eyes. It is his brother.

“You owe me,” Aegon says, racoon-eyed and smirking, leaning against the vanity in your small bedroom that is connected to Helaena’s by an adjoining door.

You jolt upright, your vision pained and muddled. “What…?”

“You owe me,” he repeats simply.

The horror must show on your face.

“Not like that,” he swiftly amends. “You owe me for last night in the Great Hall. I guarded the stairs to make sure no one stumbled upon you. It was no easy task. Plenty of other couples were in want of a dark place to disappear into.”

You clutch your blanket around you like a cape, hiding the shape of your body. Your nightgown is thin and clinging. “I’m sure you’re mistaken.”

“I’m sure I’m not,” Aegon replies. “I saw you sneak away together like thieves. And when Aemond returned, he had this sheepish smile and his cheeks were blood-red and his hands were shaking. My brother’s hands never shake.”

You consider him. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet. Then again, it is awfully satisfying to not feel like the only debaucherous sibling. You’ve put a good-sized dent in the armor of that dutiful, pretentious honor he wears. Perhaps that is payment enough.”

You think of Queen Alicent, of Otto Hightower, of Aemond’s pride, of your own future here. “Please don’t tell anyone.” You are disgusted by how helpless you sound, how weak.

“I have no intention to. Not yet, anyway.” Aegon grins like a shark and makes for the door. Then he turns back to say just one more thing. “You know, I am glad to see him happy. I won’t tell him that, but I will tell you.”

And he is mindful to shut the door quietly as he leaves.

~~~~~~~~~~

You expect Aemond to ignore you, in public at least; it is an unavoidable casualty of the circumstances. He is a prince destined to marry a Lannister or a Stark or an Arryn or a Baratheon, and more than that he is a man ruled by his sense of hereditary responsibility. You are a lady-in-waiting to a fragile, innocent princess and employed by a devout queen. Any impropriety on your part will not be tolerated. And if you fall from this pedestal, where will you land? Bear Island? Some lowly, anonymous house in a forgotten corner of the North or the Vale or the Riverlands? The flames?

Yet, paradoxically, the prince does not ignore you. He arrives to fetch his sister for a late-morning breakfast just as you are finishing dressing her: daisies braided into her hair, earrings and bracelets, a golden-yellow gown like summer or the sun. He takes her benign little hand and kisses the back of it. “Ready, princess?”

Helaena giggles and flushes a bright, childish pink. “Ready,” she agrees.

“Good. Let’s go.” Aemond turns to you. Your own dress is an intense, sapphire blue. This is not even remotely a coincidence. “You too, Moonstone.”

“Me?!”

“Yes, you. You are my dear sister’s faithful—and quite entertaining, I might add—lady-in-waiting. I’m sure she’d appreciate your company.”

“Oh, I would!” Helaena chirps.

“You…think it’s appropriate…for me to accompany you…to a private meal with the royal family?” You gape at Aemond, bewildered. And then, lowering your voice: “You really want me to go?”

“Of course. You belong where I am. I have claimed you, you are mine. Do you consent?”

“Yes.” The room is brighter, warmer, more spacious, full of potential. You walk with him and Helaena down to the gardens.

Among the blossoms and fountains and ponds and trellises crawling with greenery, a table has been filled with all the cures for a night of overzealous celebration: quail eggs, assorted breads, ham, bacon, honeyed porridge, fresh fruit, tea, tomato juice, more wine for those who aren’t ready to stop celebrating. There are exactly five place settings. Musicians are playing harps and lutes, but they fall silent when you appear with Aemond and Helaena. The queen is at the head of the table. Her father sits to her right. Aegon, pouring himself a massive cup of wine, cackles and rocks back in his chair when he sees you.

Queen Alicent sputters: “Oh, um, hello there, Lady Mormont…?”

“I extended the invitation,” Aemond says. “She has served the princess so well, I thought a token of our appreciation was in order. She has had a very trying few months, as you well know.”

“What—?!” Otto Hightower begins, but halts when his daughter grabs his forearm.

“Do you see how happy he looks?” you can hear her whisper.

Otto sighs irritably. “As you wish, I suppose.” He waves to the servants. “Bring another place setting.”

A chair, cup, plate, and set of silverware are procured for you. Aemond has them positioned on his good side. You sit between him and Helaena, gingerly filling your plate with fruit and miniature muffins, twirling your pendant with anxious hands. But when Aemond looks over to smile at you, you smile back.

“See how it cheers her?” Helaena says buoyantly.

“See how it cheers him,” Aegon quips as he sips his wine with raised eyebrows.

Sir Criston Cole arrives. “Good morning.” He observes the lack of a spot for him. “Oh dear.”

“What now?!” Otto Hightower snaps.

“I asked him to join us, Father,” Alicent says. “Forgive me for neglecting to mention it.”

“Well, fine then,” Otto grumbles. “Wonderful. Perfect. Let’s just welcome the whole court. Is that ferret Larys around, Alicent? Perhaps he would like an invitation too.”

The queen ignores him and occupies herself with spreading butter on a slice of banana bread. The servants assemble a place setting for Sir Criston and he sits to the queen’s immediate left.

“You may continue,” Otto tells the musicians. They resume their playing. “How goes your embroidery, Helaena?” His tone softens; he always softens for her.

“Oh, marvelously!” she says. “I’ve finished my praying mantis and begun work on a spider. It has flames on its back. Bright red flames.”

Otto beams. “Lovely.”

Helaena begins to sing quietly to herself. Aegon gulps his cup of wine and pours another. Sir Criston passes Alicent a bowl of sugar for her tea. They exchange a bashful glance.

“You must be congratulated for your mentorship of my grandson,” Otto says to Sir Criston. There’s a thick slab of ham speared on his fork. “Aemond performed astoundingly in the joust. I was pleasantly surprised. I know he has not spent much time in the tiltyard, nor had any particular appreciation for it until yesterday.”

“It was…an unexpected interest, to be sure,” Sir Criston says. He stares at Aemond, trying to force an explanation; Sir Criston, it seems, is equally curious. Aemond slurps his tea.

“I’d say it was mostly luck,” Aegon says.

“Aegon,” Alicent warns.

“Didn’t you see it?! That Lannister boy was about to impale him before his horse’s leg shattered like a…like a…well, like this.” He crushes a quail egg with his spoon for emphasis. Soft yellow yolk oozes across the plate. Alicent grimaces and returns to buttering her banana bread.

“It takes skill to capitalize on good luck,” Otto says.

Aegon smiles, wide and mocking. “How poetic.”

“Yet skill requires discipline, so you wouldn’t recognize it.”

“Well great, now I’m going to have to cry myself to sleep tonight.”

“I’ve received good news from Storm’s End,” Alicent interrupts. “Lord Borros Baratheon has agreed to bring his daughters to court so we can become better acquainted with them. There’s Cassandra, who is said to be an accomplished musician…and Maris, who paints and sketches…and Ellyn, she is known as a great beauty, and she’s very pious as well…and then there’s Floris…”

“Not now,” Aemond says, gently yet firmly, showing his left palm. Alicent desists. Sir Criston offers her a miniature blueberry muffin. Helaena leaves her seat to catch a grasshopper from a nearby bush. Otto squints at Aemond suspiciously. Aegon drinks.

Alicent is gamely refusing to give up on the meal. “Lady Mormont, how did you find Oldtown? You spent a year there, did you not? I haven’t been back to the seat of House Hightower in so long. I think I would scarcely know it. Is the port still a crystalline blue and swarming with ships at all hours? The sailors’ shouts used to keep me awake at night when I was a girl.”

“Yes, you were married to…” Otto does some mental math. “My cousin’s youngest son, is that right? Andrew? Anderson…?”

“Arthur?” Alicent says.

Otto shakes his head. “No, not Arthur. Adrian? Aaron?”

“Abernathy?” Helaena calls over from where she stands by the bush with a grasshopper in her cupped hands.

Alicent tries again: “Aston? Aiden?”

“Anonymous?” Aegon suggests.

“Axel,” you inform them.

“Right!” Otto says. “Axel! Poor lad. Gone too soon.”

Alicent bows her head respectfully. Sir Criston follows suit. Aemond slices his ham so aggressively the whole table quivers. “What is wrong with you?!” Sir Criston hisses at him. Aemond sighs and rubs his forehead with his fingertips. Aegon watches, extremely amused.

“In truth, Your Highness, I didn’t see very much of Oldtown,” you tell Alicent. “I was expected to spend most of my time with Axel’s sisters, and so I did a lot of embroidery and a lot of reading and a lot of visiting the sept, and…and…” And honestly I was bored to fucking death, you almost add.

“And a lot of attempting to make sons, I would imagine,” Otto says with a chuckle.

Aemond slams his fist down on the table. Everyone stares at him. He realizes what he’s done, clears his throat, and then continues eating as if nothing happened. Aegon bursts into a gale of laughter and rocks back in his chair further and further until it tips over. He lays like a ragdoll on the stones, still laughing, occasionally rolling around, not even attempting to rise.

Alicent mutters to herself: “Can we please just have a nice breakfast, can we please just have a nice breakfast, can we please just have a nice breakfast…”

Sir Criston comforts her with a pat on the back of her hand and the gift of another miniature blueberry muffin. She doesn’t look hungry, but she eats it anyway. They have soon tumbled into a hushed and private conversation. Otto Hightower rises to ask Helaena about her grasshopper. The servants begin clearing the table, stepping carefully around Prince Aegon.

“I’m going to take Lady Mormont on a tour of the gardens,” Aemond announces. He gives Alicent a parting embrace and she squeezes his shoulder fondly. Then the prince offers you his arm and leads you away.

“Aren’t you supposed to train today?” Sir Criston shouts after you both. “Hello? Prince Aemond? Uh, aren’t you supposed to train…?!”

You and the prince disappear into a trellis tunnel woven thick with ivy and climbing roses and jasmine and dangling chandeliers of wisteria. You are completely out of sight; not even sunlight can touch you through the curtain made of earth. Aemond turns your face to his—his hands on your throat, your jaw, your cheek—and kisses you in the verdant darkness.

“I wouldn’t mind being ivy,” he murmurs. “I could cover you completely. I’d grow over you like a second skin and never leave.”

“Ivy kills, you know. It ends up smothering everything else.”

“You don’t have to pretend you aren’t starving for me. It’s alright, I know the truth. I can taste it on you. There’s no shame in it.”

“Perhaps I’m bored of you now,” you say, lacing your fingers around the back of his neck, pressing your hips to his, biting his lower lip. “I’ve unearthed all your secrets and now that I’ve had you there’s no mystery, no challenge. You have nothing left to tempt me with. I’ve done it all already.”

In the shadows, Aemond smiles. “I can think of something you’ve never done before.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Vhagar is too large to be kept in the Dragonpit anymore. When she isn’t flying, she can be found on the sand, on the cliffs, or lolling lazily in the shallow surf; after all, she is nearly one hundred and eighty years old. Aemond takes you down to an abandoned portion of the beach beneath the Red Keep—waiting patiently for you to navigate the terrain in your gown, helping you step over tidepools—and it is there that Vhagar is waiting. She is massive and gruesome and palpably warm; steam rises where seawater laps against her scales. She glares at you with muddy, greenish eyes. There must be intelligence somewhere behind them, but you cannot see it. You see only a grotesque, reptilian, immortal sort of power.

“Dragons are fire made flesh,” Aemond says, laying a palm against her snout. Jagged fangs jut out just below. “Our house owes everything to them. You can touch her, if you like.”

“And she won’t…um…obliterate me?”

He is entirely confident. “We are bonded, so she is aware of everything I feel for you. She knows I would not want you harmed.”

You press your bare hand to Vhagar’s scales. There is a deep, earth-rumbling growl. Heat rises in the air like an arrow loosed from a bow.

“Lykiri, Vhagar,” Aemond soothes. “Dohaeras.”

The beast settles. You have not removed your hand. Aemond is pleased, proud. He nods to the netting that hangs down over Vhagar’s side. “Up you go.”

You climb the rope ladder to the saddle—no easy task in a gown and the low heels that all the ladies of the court wear—with Aemond following closely behind you. Vhagar’s sides heave in and out as she breathes. She’s not beautiful in the way that Sunfyre is, or Dreamfyre, or even Meleys; she is not beautiful like gemstones or soft rain. Vhagar’s beauty is like a wildfire or a hurricane or a plague. She is a force of nature whose capacity for destruction demands to be marveled at.

“We’ll get you a riding outfit,” the prince says. “Leather and gloves and boots. For next time.”

Next time. Because this is going to happen again. Because he wants to do this with me again. “The saddle…?”

“We can share that.” He drops behind you into the saddle and loops a length of chains around you both, binding you to it. “The chains are very necessary. I made that mistake the first time.” He reaches around your waist to take the reins, kisses the side of your neck, rakes his teeth lightly across your skin, inhales you. “Don’t distract me. I have your life in my hands.”

“Fear not. It isn’t terribly valuable.”

“We can agree to disagree.” And then, to the dragon beneath you: “Vhagar, soves!”

She lumbers forward, slowly at first, and then accelerating like the churning of dark clouds in a storm. On her back, the saddle rocks forcefully from side to side; you grip the handles and learn to move with her, like a rider does on a horse. When she lists to the left, you do too, and then back to the right. Aemond keeps his arms on either side of you, his chest pressed to your spine, his body seamlessly aligned with yours, protective. You suddenly can’t stop thinking about last night in that unassuming stairwell of the Red Keep. You want him, but not for a moment or an hour, not even for a night. You want him forever. You want him in a way that can never be real. It is an excruciating ache, a pleasure so deep and twisting it borders on pain.

Vhagar’s wings—large enough to leave shadows the size of buildings—stretch out and carry her up into the clear cerulean sky. The wind whips at your face and claws cruelly through your hair. The world falls away below you. You stare over Vhagar’s side and try to comprehend it: you are no longer connected to the earth by anything. The motion is smoother now that she is in the air. This is where dragons are meant to be, like a shark in water or roots in soil. Only here is Vhagar graceful and swift. Only here is she young again. The waves crash below and pepper you with stinging mist. Ghostly shadows of fish and dolphins and whales weave beneath the surf. Sunlight sets the water alight like constellations. It’s overwhelming, the speed and the weightlessness and the defiance of the planet’s own rules. You cry out in exhilarated wonder like a child.

“I know,” Aemond says over the roar of the wind and the ocean. He’s still holding the reins, but he barely needs them; Vhagar seems to already know the way. His gloved hands wander to settle on your waist, and then your hips, and then your thighs, exploring you with delicious slowness over the fabric of your dress. You are desperate for him, bewitched, on fire. You guide his hands to exactly where you want them. He kisses the side of your face as he touches you, the breeze tearing through his hair, his breathing turning quick and tattered. “I hate this fucking dress,” he groans; but you’re both smiling.

Where can we go? Where can we go to be away from the royal family and the intrusive eyes of the court and all the reminders of how impossible our future is?

But Aemond has already considered this. The island rises out of Blackwater Bay like the moon at dusk. It’s not very large—just big enough for a dragon Vhagar’s size to tuck itself away in the lagoon—but it’s beautiful, with a field of soft mossy grass and a grove of crooked laurel and juniper trees and a rocky stretch of beach that is submerged at high tide. It’s within sight of King’s Landing, but just barely. The city is a silent, miniature version of itself on the horizon. As she nears the island, Vhagar’s talons dip into the seawater and reappear clutching a small, unfortunate grey whale. She lands on the edge of the field, the gusts from her wings ripping leaves from the trees.

Aemond climbs down the netting first and then waits on the ground for you, arms outstretched in case you need to be caught. Your feet reunite with the earth. “Here I am. Back on an island.”

Aemond laughs. It’s such a rare sound, and something to be cherished, like the gleam of a comet or a solar eclipse or the Northern Lights. “Umbas, Vhagar.” He pats the beast’s rugged scales and she ambles away and disappears down into the lagoon, presumably to eat her whale. “I always called it Little Dragonstone.”

“I think I prefer Little Bear Island.”

“Dragon Island?”

“Bearstone,” you suggest.

“Bearstone,” he echoes, trying it out. “Yes, I think I like that.” He goes to one of the juniper trees and pries up a large grey stone at its base. From beneath it, he produces a burlap sack containing books, parchment, quills and a container of ink, and several bottles of wine.

“So you come here often.”

“Yes.” And then he clarifies: “Alone.”

“For how long?”

“Since I was a boy. After I claimed Vhagar.”

“Hopefully not the same way you claimed me.”

He smiles, opens a bottle of red wine, swigs a mouthful. Then he kisses you so you can swallow it. Wine bleeds down your chin, your throat, your chest. Your blue dress is stained in reckless maroon wounds. You couldn’t care less. Aemond’s hands are in your hair, rough and euphoric. His voice is strained with desire. “Last night you asked to see all of me, and I obliged. Now I would like that favor returned.”

You shed your dress like a snake’s skin. Aemond’s impatient fingers help untangle the laces. His lips are on you the whole time, tasting wine and salt and lust and the sea. They roam from your mouth to your jaw and then down the slope of your neck, and then to your collarbone, still marked with the faint, divine, violet bruise from the night before. He yanks off his gloves, his tunic, all the rest of it, and pulls you onto the soft grass. You try to straddle him, but he pins you down on your back, his hands locked around your wrists. It occurs to you that the prince himself is a bit like a bruise now: trapped beneath your skin, aching constantly, an immutable part of your corporal memory. You can ignore it, you can cover it, but he’s there. And you’re terrified that he won’t ever fade.

“Don’t move,” he orders, grinning, mischievous. “There’s one more part of you I still need to taste.”

He’s kissing his way down your breasts, your ribs, your belly, your hips, teasing you with delicate, careful nips. He’s pushing your thighs apart. He’s dragging his tongue across your slick sensitive skin, hot and plump with bloodrush. The sun beats down and the ocean roars and the wind is inked with the sound of moans, and then those careless false promises spilled in the fog of passion, and then soft, exhausted whispers.

In the aftermath—quiet and still like a battlefield once the white flag of surrender has been waved—you lay gazing lazily at each other on the grass. Aemond’s sapphire eye glitters in the afternoon light. His naked flesh is pale and perfect and strangely vulnerable. The thought of him taking a sword to anyone is suddenly very difficult to believe; the thought of him marrying some Baratheon or Lannister woman is excruciating. Yet what can you hope for, with this hand of cards you’ve been dealt? This is temporary, draining away, setting like a sun. To cling to the illusion of permanence is like trying to catch smoke in your hands.

“I don’t think I can give you children.” You mean it as something to comfort him, but it comes out like an apology.

Aemond nods, acquiescent, and you cannot tell if his relief is genuine or if he is trying to spare your feelings. If he is acting, it is a masterful performance. “Perhaps that is for the best. Childbirth is a woman’s battle, but one in which skill cannot save you. I would not desire to risk your life.”

“I thought we agreed not to shy away from battles.”

He smiles vaguely, ambiguously, dusting his thumb across your cheekbone. “Do you know no spells to remedy barrenness? That seems improbable for someone of your…talents.”

“I tried during my marriage, but I couldn’t get to Oldtown’s heart tree. It’s within the Citadel. I was not expected to have any use for books or maesters. I cast a few spells as best I could from the Hightower, but perhaps the Old Gods could not hear me there.”

“Hm.” Aemond’s brow furrows; this troubles him. He would not shame you for it, but he hates the thought of you with another man. It guts him like a blade. This is unmistakable, like a stone beneath clear water. “You yearned to give Axel Hightower a child?”

“I yearned to prove myself,” you correct. “And Axel promised that if I conceived, my mother could travel south and stay to see me through my delivery.”

Now Aemond’s relief is obvious. It wasn’t your husband you loved so ardently; it was your mother. “She was the one who taught you magic.”

“Yes.”

“What was her name?”

You see her face, a flash like lightning. “Laurel. Like the trees, although they couldn’t survive in the North. She always said it was ironic. Now it feels more like prophesy.”

His voice is kind. He’s never lost a parent—not yet—but he knows what it feels like to be unloved by one, and perhaps that is very nearly the same thing. “I’m so sorry.”

“She didn’t want to marry me off to the Hightowers, but Father insisted. He is not a man to be swayed by the pleadings of wives or daughters. He would view that as weakness.”

“So he’s dreadful. You must be so much like your mother.”

You can’t answer him. The words burn in your chest like wildfire. You don’t want to talk about your mother anymore. You look to the blazing sapphire where his left eye once was. “Can I ask you how it happened?”

“I claimed Vhagar on Driftmark after Laena Velaryon’s death. Her daughters and Rhaenyra’s sons confronted me. It was the middle of the night. There were four of them. I was alone. I called the boys bastards, and I picked up a rock, but I swear I never used it. Jace threw dirt in my face and Luke cut me.”

The vision of him as a small, outnumbered, mangled boy hits you like a fist. “I would take it back if I could,” you say. “The loss of your sight, the pain…”

“It wasn’t just the eye,” Aemond explains. He is abruptly somber and distant. He is miles from you, years from you. “It was that they had mocked me and tormented me my entire childhood and then the second I finally had something of my own they wanted to take it from me. It was that my own father did not demand justice for me. It was that I had done nothing but speak the truth and I was expected to believe that my maiming was an acceptable trade for it. Only my mother defended me. Not a single Targaryen. If Rhaenyra and I share the blood of the dragon, how could she so easily revile me?”

“She was wrong. They all were. You were innocent, and you were worthy.”

“Rhaenyra is my blood but she is not my family. And neither are her bastard sons. They owe me a debt that must be repaid.”

“Your wrath is justified, but handle it carefully. Such hatred can turn back to poison you.”

Aemond scoffs, acerbic. “I don’t fear them.”

You smile. “You don’t fear anything.”

“I fear losing you,” he says, and then stands to lead you down to the beach.

You wash Aemond off you in the ocean, and then wash the ocean off you in your rosewater-scented bathtub back in the Red Keep; all evening you try to forget him, to remove his fingerprints from you like an ink stain or a curse. Nothing works. You dutifully help Helaena with the children, you play cards with her, you praise her eerie spider embroidery, you pace around attempting to read some terribly dull book about the history of Westerosi dances…and all the while Aemond’s voice—and those forbidden things he should have known better than to say—clang in your skull like bells.

But as you pass the fireplace with your book in one hand, distractedly tugging on your pendant with the other, Helaena snatches your forearm and drags you to the center of the room.

“What—?!”

“Stay away from the fire,” Helaena hisses fiercely, then drifts off without another word.

~~~~~~~~~~

You are Aemond’s clandestine companion; you are his shadow in unwitnessed moments.

Together you play late-night card games with Helaena, you accompany her on walks through the gardens, you watch the children frolic on the golden beach outside the Red Keep. You sit in quiet, dimly-lit crevices of the library and read for hours by candlelight: Aemond about history and weaponry and dragons and philosophy, you about herbology and gemstones. There are no books about witchcraft, of course; that would be sacrilegious, that would be punishable by death. But you can piece together information about the properties of seemingly innocuous items to craft promising spells. Aemond consults with the maesters of King’s Landing and writes letters to the ones in Dorne. They adore him; they give him the affection and admiration that King Viserys never has.

You and Helaena watch Aemond as he spars with Sir Criston. All four of you watch Sir Ivar Kellington blacken eyes and break bones. Aemond teaches you enough High Valyrian for you to practice with him. He’s never had someone to share this with before. The language comes naturally to you, it fits easily into your mouth and your mind; it sounds like magic. When you can manage it—once every three or four days—you and the prince escape together to Bearstone; otherwise you ravage each other in stairwells, in closets, in anyplace where the servants and guards and handmaidens will not glimpse you.

And then one day, you wake up violently, helplessly ill. You can’t keep down water. You can’t get out of bed. When you try to, your knees buckle and Helaena has to drag you back onto the mattress. You lay there feeling like you’re dying with cold skin and cramping muscles and the room spinning all around you. You try to hide this from Aemond; you don’t want to worry him, and much more urgently you don’t want him to see you like this. You are not strong or pragmatic or brave right now. You are obviously, pathetically weak. Aemond hates weakness. And you can’t bear to see him disappointed in you.

Your plan doesn’t work. Helaena tells Aemond on the second day, and he takes one look at you before dashing off to fetch a maester, a man who he can trust to have discretion. The maester examines you and asks you a series of questions, and it is only when he inquires about your last bleeding that you realize what’s wrong.

“It is my opinion,” the maester tells the prince in the doorway of your bedroom. “That she is in the early weeks of pregnancy. Some women are affected severely like this. It’s rare, but it happens. There are some remedies I can offer, but the best one is time.”

When the maester departs, Aemond remains in the doorway gazing down at you, his blue eye glassy and thunderstruck.

“I’m so sorry,” you choke out with tears slithering down your face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know this could happen. I didn’t wish for this, I didn’t ask for this. I swear I didn’t.”

But Aemond isn’t angry. He comes to you, crawls into the bed, pulls you to his chest and cradles you there. “This isn’t bad news, Moonstone,” he murmurs, his lips curling into a smile against your forehead. And only then do you know what he dared to hope for in the arching, scarlet chambers of his own heart, what he carved there like an oath. “This isn’t bad news.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, in the Sunset Sea, two fisherman have stumbled upon a very different sort of island than the so-called Bearstone.

It sits to the west of Bandallon in the Reach, out of sight of the mainland and equally out of mind. It is very small. It hosts no human settlements nor natural resources of any great value. There is no vegetation or fresh water or shade or hope. It is mostly rocks. The parts that aren’t rocks are either shards of driftwood or bleached bones.

What brought the fishermen to the island was a beckoning glint, like sunlight bounced off a piece of mirror. It was probably nothing, they both agreed, but who knew for sure; bits of treasure lost at sea have been known to wash up on the island. As they approached they saw him, first only a silhouette and then in full flesh: shouting, waving his arms, surrounded by wreckage. He has laid out upturned shells to catch drinkable water when it rains. Around his neck hangs a golden seven-pointed star. It is this that he has used to summon his rescuers.

The first fisherman calls from the boat as he readies a rope to throw: “Good gods, man, are you still alive down there, or are you a ghost?”

“Too sunburned to be a ghost,” the second fisherman notes.

“I am alive,” the castaway replies. His skin is lobster-red from the sun. His lips are cracked and parched, his hands are mangled from gutting fish and prying open mollusks. He was once a stocky, rather sweet-tempered man of dark hair and medium height but now he is wiry and weathered and sharp. “Though the sea tried its best to take me. Bring me back to my home and my family will handsomely reward you, you have my word. My house has power and wealth. We are one of the greatest in Westeros.”

“We’ll save you regardless,” the first fisherman says. The Mother implores us all to have mercy. But I certainly will not argue with an offer of payment. What is your name, sir?”

The castaway holds up a bloodied hand to shield his eyes from the sun. “Axel Hightower.”

#aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x you #hotd fanfic #hotd #aemond imagine #aemond targaryen imagine

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neptoons1998 · 1 year

Text

Future & Past

Summary: Riri gets stuck in the past and she meets a younger verison of her mama.

Tag gang: @mal-urameshi @xblackreader @s0lam3y

Riri wasn’t sure how she did it but she thinks she traveled back in time. I am never trusting Dr. Strange again, the young scientist thought as groaned from the ground. She looked around to see the park she would go to with her mom alot as a child. Riri started fiddling with her beads to send a request to go back home. Let’s hope Shuri is super genius about this one Riri’s cruel humor is too consumed with getting back to her time. She heard sniffles like someone was trying desperately hard not to cry but it was a loosening battle.

Riri couldn’t believe her eyes couldn’t help but stare at the pregnant woman, who was sitting on a bench, in front of her. Riri couldn’t help but be a little shell-shocked seeing a young adult version of her mother. She knew like most adults that Okoye had a life before Riri came into the picture. The young engineer couldn’t help to feel very off-putting seeing a younger version of Okoye.

“A-are you alright?” Riri questioned her mama. No matter what timeline Riri will always love her mama. Okoye quickly brushed away tears from her face. Riri’s stomach twisted she had never seen her mama cry before.

Frustrated, mad, and happy.

Never sadness.

Okoye gave a watery laugh, “No, but I’m sure Bast is having a good laugh.”

Certain things don’t change Riri thought as she had heard that expression too many times as a child.

Riri twisted her fingers, “Do you want to talk about? I love jokes.”

Okoye looked at her, whether to see if she should trust her or not. Riri guessed her mama thought she didn’t have anything to lose to tell her woes to a complete “stranger”.

“Well I finally told the man that got me into this condition, “ Okoye said Riri could see that she bit into her cheeks, “And he said he wanted no part of it. Which is so cruel to call her an it.”

Riri’s heart broke hearing this. Riri never knew who her father was. Anytime she wanted to know, her mother would have a sober look to her which made Riri’s curiosity die down. The young woman decided around the age of twelve that’s one discovery she was okay not knowing.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Riri said as she wrapped her small hand in her young mom’s hand. Okoye gave a soft smile, “What makes it such a cruel joke was that he wanted a huge family, but apparently I wasn’t supposed to be the one.”

The pair sat in silence before Okoye’s eyes let the tears cascade down her cheeks, “Am I that unloveable?”

Riri’s eyes widen twisting her body to look at Okoye’s, “No no you’re not.”

Riri had to stop herself from making a wormhole or not being born. Riri knew later down the line her mama would fall in love with Attuma. That shark man loves her mama more than anything.

“You just can’t rush it. P-plus that guy was a jerk anyway,” Riri commented, “I need you to believe one day just not today that there is a man who will love you. It would so much love that you won’t know what to do with it.”

Riri wiped some of Okoye’s tears from her face, “And there whole bunch of love you can have right now. Like with her.”

Riri pointed at the round belly of her mama. Riri tried not to think how trippy it was to know that she was in there. Being a whole fetus.

“Really? She won’t hate me for not giving her a father?” Okoye questioned as she rubbed on her stomach. Riri nodded cause she did love her mama.

“I’m sure she’ll understand,” Riri answered. Okoye smiled at the thought of her future daughter loving her just as much as she loved her.

“Thank you, Priestess,” Okoye said before Riri could correct her on not being. Okoye left the bench to go bother Aneka and Ayo.

With that Riri’s bracelet started to beep before she was sucked back to the right timeline.

“Took you long enough,” Riri teased her girlfriend. Shuri rolled her eyes before coming closer to her.

“Just never trust a doctor not from Wakanda, hm?” Shuri joked as she pressed a soft kiss on Riri.

“Riri?” Okoye’s voice out making the pair break apart. Okoye with her hands on her hips.

“Mama!” Riri rushed to her side giving the woman a surprised hug. Riri knew now that her mama was being loved, but just knowing for a time her mama thought she was unlovable still stung Riri.

“Ah,” Okoye wrapped her arms around before stroking Riri’s hair, “What’s all this about?”

“I’ll tell you later on tonight,” Riri said as she continued to squash her cheeks on her mama’s chest. Okoye ‘hm’ at Riri’s request.

Riri will always love her mama from the stars and back.

#attuma x okoye #riri williams #writing #fanfiction #general okoye #mama!okoye #but poor riri #daughter!riri

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youhavetosmile · 9 months

Note

KD Prompt: matt get jealous 😏

I wanted to get this done for Charlie's birthday yesterday, but no dice. Thank you so much for the prompt! Hope you enjoy it.

Find it on AO3

It wasn’t that Matt didn’t like parties, per se. They were just—a lot. The noise, the smells, the heat. Sorting through that much sensory input was exhausting. So he initially declined when Foggy asked him to please please please tag along to the Landman & Zack Christmas party he was attending with Marci. Even when he begged him not to “leave him alone in the shark tank,” he refused.

Karen, however, was much more persuasive. And so, with the promise that she would make it up to him, Matt found himself standing at the bar of some upscale hotel, nursing a whiskey neat and fighting off waves of nausea every time someone walked past him wearing too much cologne.

He was relieved when he heard the clicking of Karen’s heels as she came back from the bathroom. It was so much easier when he could just focus on her. But it suddenly stopped as, with all the narcissism of a hot-shot attorney who only did it for the money, a voice drawled, “Karen Page.”

“What?” said Foggy, noticing his scowl.

Matt tilted his head toward the other side of the room. “Sean McAllister’s just intercepted Karen.”

“Shit,” Marci muttered from her seat on a bar stool between them. “He’s such an asshole. He called me ‘sweetheart’ last week. I hate that guy.”

“Join the club.”

“Damnit, Karen.” Marci took a sip of her martini. “This is why we don’t go to the bathroom alone.”

Matt turned his attention back to Karen. “Can I ask you a favor?” Sean was asking.

“That depends. What is it?” Karen replied, her heartbeat calm and steady.

“I was hoping you could look into something for me…” Sean took a step closer as he explained the situation. Matt heard the soft brush of his hand against Karen’s elbow.

He set his drink down. “I’m going over there.”

“Oh, no, you’re not,” said Marci, grabbing his arm and pulling him back to the bar.

“Marci, that guy’s hated me since law school. I can’t just leave Karen alone with him.”

He made another attempt to leave, but Marci pulled him back again. “You really don’t get it, Murdock.”

“Get what?” Foggy asked.

“How hard it is to be a woman in this room right now. Don’t you dare roll your eyes, either of you. It’s true. I have had to work my ass off to get the respect in this field that you two get just by existing.”

“Yeah, but Karen’s not an attorney,” Matt argued, “she’s a PI.”

“Which means she’s in an even more male-dominated field than I am.” Marci huffed in frustration at the sustained looks of confusion on Matt and Foggy’s faces. “Look, in this world, the worst thing for a woman is to be perceived as weak.”

“Karen is not weak,” Matt defended emphatically.

“I know that. But if you go swoop in and save her, that’s exactly how she’ll look to Sean, and nobody wants that. Trust me, Matt, it’s best if you don’t get involved. Karen can handle him.”

“And if she can’t?”

“Then I see an unfortunate run-in with Daredevil in Sean’s future.”

Matt groaned in frustration. “Fine. But you can’t stop me from eavesdropping.”

And eavesdrop he did. “I can’t make any promises,” Karen said when Sean had finished his explanation, “I’m swamped with Nelson and Murdock cases already.”

“I could really use the help. Maybe we could grab coffee or dinner sometime and talk about it?”

“Ah,” Karen said with a click of her tongue, “there it is.”

“What?”

“The real reason we’re having this conversation. You spun a great story, Sean, I’ll give you that.”

Matt’s discomfort was quickly turning to a possessive pride. “You got me,” Sean admitted, because what else could he do? “I guess I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Excuse me?”

“You look so good, Karen.” He touched her elbow again, and Matt gripped his cane to keep himself from marching up and punching him right in his stupid face. “You deserve someone who can appreciate that.”

Karen actually laughed in his face. Matt scowled, pushing the thought of he’s right out of his mind. But the uptick in her heart rate had him smiling despite the doubts. He’d made Karen mad enough times to know what it sounded like—and to know this wouldn’t end well for Sean.

“I appreciate the concern,” Karen was saying, “but it’s unnecessary.”

“You can’t tell me you don’t think about it.”

She leaned closer in that slightly threatening, incredibly sexy way she did and said (truthfully, he could tell), “I can’t tell you how little I think about it. Matt appreciates me more with four senses than you ever could with five. So you can take your suit, and your lines, and your made-up case and go find someone else to help you, because I’m doing just fine.” Matt was grinning as she smiled at Sean and strutted back toward him. “You heard all of that, didn’t you?” she asked as she approached.

“Every word,” he replied, reaching out to wrap his arm around her waist tighter than was strictly necessary.

He could feel her staring at him, licking her lips then running her teeth across them. “Marci? Is he still watching?”

Marci glanced inconspicuously back across the room. “Yep.”

“Good.” Then she put her hand on the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss, just intense enough to capture Sean’s attention but not anyone else’s. He could win a million fights and never feel this good.

He stayed close when she let him go. “You’re incredible,” he whispered in her ear.

“Glad you enjoyed it,” she replied with a coy smile.

“Well,” Marci finished her drink and set it back on the bar, “I think we’ve had enough excitement for tonight, don’t you, babe?”

“Yeah, I think we’d better go,” said Foggy, “before Matt starts taking Karen’s clothes off right here.”

Matt smiled, kissed the side of Karen’s face, and didn’t deny it.

#karedevil #daredevil #matt x karen #matt murdock #matt and karen #karedevil fanfic #daredevil born again #karen page

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discodeviant · 2 years

Text

Our Coast Again

Jonathan/Argyle | Teen | 1.7k No Upside Down

First mermaid AU!! Planning a sequel to this so stay tuned :)) Enjoy! <3

Made for @jargyle-bingo!

Read on AO3

The Byerses had gone to San Diego once when Jonathan was still an only child. When Lonnie worked a job that gave them the money to spare. When Joyce had the future planned out such that vacations weren’t once-in-a-lifetime excursions. When things were fine.

Modest, small-town families like theirs were perfect for Ocean Beach attractions, even if their four-year-old son had the awareness to think it was a silly name. “Every beach has an ocean,” he said between Joyce and Lonnie on a striped towel. A large, yellow umbrella kept seagulls away from their meal and the sun from burning them to crisps. Jonathan shared a milkshake with his mom; Lonnie laughed at him and ate his chicken wings.

“He’s a smart-ass already.” It was said with some twisted sense of pride that had Joyce smacking his upper arm.

“Lonnie!” Language! He clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, and Jonathan asked if being a smart-ass was a bad thing. “Honey, what your dad means is that you’re very clever. A beach isn’t a beach without an ocean. I guess they didn’t feel like being creative with the name, did they, Johnny?” She held his shoulders and dipped her head down to level with scrunching eyes and an innocent grin. Jonathan shook his head.

Then his grin turned down, and he asked, “Does that mean it’s not special?”

“It’s as special as you want it to be.”

He didn’t know how special that was yet.

The next evening, Lonnie was too busy with his slot machines to care about what Joyce was doing. While Jonathan was stuck tagging along, neither minded the time without him, especially since the previous night’s dinner tension. Her upset was passed off as jet lag or homesickness, and it might have been true, but hardened gazes across the hotel room were hard to miss even for a child. Forgotten the moment they disappeared, a psychic conversation resumed. So Lonnie gambled to will the problems away, and Joyce took Jonathan to see the beach at night so their vacation would still have something nice to look back on.

“The sky’s on the ground,” Jonathan said, little feet kicking through waves that pushed sand through his toes. Starlight twinkled until it got too dark to see so far down, and there were too many to count. “I wanna swim!” he cried, and because Joyce loved her boy too much to say no, they drifted hand-in-hand. At least the moon gave them enough light to see each other’s smiles.

Jonathan pulled the swimming goggles down from his forehead and dove right down, which Joyce hated because she couldn’t see him well. She was paranoid about undertow and freak shark attacks, but Jonathan’s head bobbed back up just enough to keep her heartbeat steady.

So he swam and swam, lapping circles around his mother at first, then deciding to go a little further out while the waves were still calm. He stayed close to the surface and turned around every so often to make sure Joyce was still there, and she waved to say she was. Hers was the only silhouette on the whole beach, so he didn’t think twice when she appeared closer than she was a few seconds prior. Much closer, it seemed, and then he felt something brush against his leg.

Nothing he could make out. Probably seaweed. Or a monster. But he didn’t believe in those.

In the distance, something glowed a dim orange underwater, and he was almost imaginative enough to think it was a fire. Turning around once more, Joyce was far away again, but she still waved; she was still there. “Mom, there’s a light!”

“What light, honey?” she called back. Then, “Be careful!” when Jonathan dove back in to follow it.

Maybe it wasn’t a light, exactly, but it flickered like a candle. In and out, big and small, pulses of energy hitting him every time it got bigger.

And then, all at once, it was right in front of him. It swooshed, then stopped, and it wasn’t a light at all.

Deep red scales reflected off the moon and sparkled yellow over Jonathan’s body. Even up close, the dull parts were nearly invisible—it was no wonder he couldn’t see. It came to a point right across from his feet, then spread into a golden crown-tail that appeared hot to the touch. His eyes trailed back up and past the seamless transition into a body not so unlike his own. Small and flat, but darker, and arms that had fins of their own.

It was a boy, or Jonathan thought so. A dark halo of long, wavy hair surrounded a face with as much curiosity and confusion as Jonathan’s. Wide brown eyes, parted lips, but when the boy took a breath, his chest rose and fell like Jonathan’s would have on land. In water, though, Jonathan gasped and flailed right back up to the surface to cough out what he’d sucked into his lungs. All at once, with a much harsher wave at his legs, the light was gone, and Joyce was right behind him.

"Me—mer—!”

“Honey, honey, breathe for me, okay?”

“But!” He coughed and coughed, unable to keep up with his brain as he stuttered between hacks. His nose burned by the time he could finally breathe without getting choked up, and by then they were at the shore again. Jonathan sat and let the waves push sand between his fingers and drag it back out, having completely exhausted his little body in such a short time.

“Oh, baby, I shouldn’t have let you go out that far,” Joyce said, wrapping him in a towel and holding him tight against her chest. “Are you okay?” He nodded and wiped his nose.

“Mom, I saw a mermaid.”

Joyce laughed.

“I did!”

She ran her fingers through a thick, sopping wet head of hair, keeping him close and kissing right in the center.

“It was a boy mermaid!” The wild gestures he would normally speak with were suppressed by protective arms, but his energy bounced through Joyce anyway and made her laugh harder. “He had a red tail and long hair and—and—he looked at me!”

“Jonathan…” She let him go just enough to make eye contact. “I love you so much. Do you know that?”

Again, he nodded. “I love you too, mama.”

They stayed huddled like that for a while longer, Jonathan listening to Joyce’s heartbeat slow back into relaxation. She said to keep what happened a secret from dad, which he pinky-promised to keep. They were still in California for another five days, but none compared to that night, and none ever would.

Back in Hawkins, Jonathan learned that he would be a big brother; Will was born eight and a half months later.

In nineteen-eighty-six, he didn’t know how he ended up back on that very same beach. Or, he did, logistically. Fifteen years had come and gone, hearts had broken and mended, memories were forgotten or burned away as much as one person could manage. Fifteen years, and not a day went by that he didn’t dream of the trenches in those eyes and wonder just how deep they went. Joyce said once that it was just a sea lion, but only he’d ever known.

He’d been out surfing with a buddy from community college before deciding he’d stay behind a little longer. Maybe get some more practice in before going back home to sleep or study. Fifteen years, something deep inside him yearned for those eyes again. Something pulled so hard that nothing else had ever been enough—not Gemma from sixth grade, not Nancy Wheeler, not his Reno-rebound. Oh, they all left him hollow still, and he’d long resigned to feeling that way until the day he died.

But he was nineteen, then. He had a long time to learn about love and the intricacies of inviting someone into his cavernous heart. In some ways, maybe he’d aged too much too quickly, but he was still so naive. He was still stuck on an image that he started believing he made up after all, because it had been nothing and everything. Barely a split second, yet he’d captured every detail down to the broken scale on the mer-boy’s hip and the crooked fin running down the side of his tail. Jonathan was nineteen and still hadn’t learned to believe it was all in his imagination.

Maybe it wasn’t a coincidence that he ended up back at Ocean Beach with a full moon looking down at him with a particular kind of warmth that he’d only felt one other time in his life. Finally, the yearning subsided as he waited on the shoreline, sand moving around a much larger pair of feet, and much longer legs carrying him into the sea once again. This time Joyce wasn’t floating in the distance to catch him if he came close to drowning again. This time he was alone.

This time the blurry twinkling was a deeper shade of red that turned purple if he looked hard enough, and he swam despite the growing waves that only carried him closer. He’d have been lost if not for the gusts against his legs, stronger now like the mer-boy had grown up, and it wasn’t long before Jonathan saw that he had.

That fin was still crooked, but his tail was just as mesmerizing as the first time. Longer, thicker, darker than before, and still glowing at the end like embers. His hair was still long, clouding around his head as it flowed with the ocean and its breeze, and he looked at Jonathan like he’d been reminded of something he never forgot in the first place.

Jonathan knew better, now, than to be mesmerized enough that he tried to breathe with imaginary gills, but he didn’t want to lose his dream for another nineteen years, and it seemed that the merman didn’t want to either.

One reached for the other, and the other reached back, and they broke the surface with arms and shoulders and hands locked tightly together. Jonathan’s staccato heartbeat caught in his throat as if he was drowning anyway.

“You’re—“ He choked on nothing at all.

Then the merman said, “Holy shit, I knew you were real,” and Jonathan…

Well, Jonathan looked like a fish out of water.

#jargyle #jonathan byers #argyle #stranger things #jargyle bingo #.discowrites #argyle x jonathan #jonathan x argyle #stranger things fic #mermaid au #mermen

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lord-angelfish · 2 years

Note

Thank you sooooo much for tagging your shark stuff. You seriously have no idea how relieved I am not to see it. 🖤 I swear I feel like I'm going to have a heart attack whenever someone doesn't tag it and just bam! Shark pops up on the dash and I legit throw my phone and want to cry.

I think that op or someone further up in the rb chain tagged that one, actually - I don’t currently tag sharks, but I will in the future! I’m glad that it did get tagged, though.

Also, now’s a good time for a reminder/announcement for everyone who follows me!

Just so you all know, I will do my best to tag things that you don’t want to see, and I’m happy to do it, but I won’t know what they are unless you tell me.

So if you want something tagged then please tell me! Otherwise, there’s no telling what you’ll see.

#asked and answered #pinned #yeah I don't really have a cohesive tagging system rn #again; I will make sure to tag for sharks in the future #and also if I said that I would tag it and I forgot #please let me know!!#I appreciate the reminders bc I'm realllly absentminded lol #anyways

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nocapesdahling · 3 years

Text

As the World Falls Down - Chapter 3

Helmut Zemo x Gender Neutral Reader

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Chapter Summary: In which you have a plan to save yourself and Alena, but have no idea if it’s going to work. Either way, you have to try.

Rating: Mature (17+)

Chapter Warnings/Tags: Slow Burn; Angst; Misunderstandings that lead to angst; Established canon character deaths; Did I mention angst?

A/N: We have reached the end of Part 1 and the Age of Ultron arc. I hope you’ve enjoyed it so far, and would love to hear your thoughts.

Chapter 3: Beneath a Fallen Sky (Age of Ultron) - Part 1

Word Count: 2.4k

You made sure Alena was strapped in tightly on your chest and that everything was in place. With time running out and Novi Grad continuing to rise, it was as good as it was going to get. You needed to move now. You had your prototype boots and gauntlets, which should allow you to fly. You hoped they would at least. Your main consolation was that they worked during testing, even if that had been in a controlled environment.

You had always admired Tony Stark, being something of a child prodigy yourself and starting college at a similar age to him. When you had first seen the Iron Man suit, your first thoughts had been of awe like any person who got a glimpse of Iron Man. Yet most people probably didn’t think what you had thought later, while considering the technology behind the suit and how to go about making your own.

Well, if he can do it then why can’t I? How hard could it be, really?

It turned out to be a bit more difficult than you’d thought, but you had developed something after much trial and error. However, you hadn’t tested anything in the open air yet. The previous test was only a short one to see if your prototypes would work and you had hovered a few feet over solid ground at most. That was why your plan only had a 65% success rate, but you had confidence in your technology and hope. In Sokovia, you couldn’t get far without hope.

You noticed the air getting thin as the city continued to rise, so you fitted Alena with an oxygen mask. You had a tank available in your apartment for squad emergencies, and were amazed how many times it had been used in the past. Your squad got into the oddest situations. There had been Andrei’s mission with the diplomat and the ice cream swimming pool and Mila’s with the yacht and the hammerhead sharks. All classified of course.

You digressed. There were more important things to consider right now, even as you wondered how your squad would take the loss of their handler when Helmut told them. You knew that it would hit them harder than they would ever admit. They emulated Helmut’s stoicism when in the field and today was still a mission, even if it was unlike any other. The destruction of one’s home was not something any of them had encountered before. If you couldn’t be there, then you hoped your gadgets would help to protect them today and in the future. You planned to be there.

You clipped the oxygen tank to your tactical gear and hoped that it wouldn’t unbalance you too much. You would need all the balance you could muster if this plan were to succeed.

Once you were as ready as you could be, it was time. The city had to fall at some point and you wanted to be in the air when it did as the height it had reached would cause a destructive impact radius. You brushed a kiss to Alena’s head, seeing her little feet kicking and knowing that she was awake.

“Not the best timing, little one. This might be a bit scary, Alena, so I wanted you to know that I love you. Already. So much. I think I loved you as soon as I saw you. Wish us luck, my little Alena Heike. We’re going to need it.”

With that and the realization that you had reached the edge of the city, you took a deep breath, taking one last glance back at the city that had been your home for most of your life. Then, you braced yourself, stepped off the edge, and flew. Well, you took a moment to stabilize yourself as the only other time you had done this was in a local park in the middle of the night and then you had grass to land on not open sky. But then, you flew.

You flew like the birds you had admired for their freedom and grace and like Iron Man. Tony Stark had nothing on you. You let out a joyful laugh, forgetting your circumstances for a moment. You forgot the swarm of robots on the other side of the city, the fact that your home was in the process of being destroyed, that you may never see Helmut again, and that you weren’t sure if you and your baby would get out of this alive. Nothing else mattered at that moment because you were flying.

Then you were shocked back to the present as to your disbelief the city began to freefall, plummeting quickly and devastatingly towards Earth before exploding mid air. You could see from where you were that it looked like Iron Man and Thor had blown it up somehow, but you couldn’t understand why the Avengers hadn’t been able to stop it from falling in the first place.

Why hadn’t they been able to save Sokovia? They had saved New York. It didn’t make sense. The world had painted them as infallible. These were Earth’s heroes? They did not look so “Mighty” now.

The debris began to land too hard and too fast. It looked like it would impact more of the surrounding area than you had anticipated.

You gasped in horror, the tears freezing on your cheeks. If a building was hit with debris of that size, then the result would be catastrophic. You worried immediately for your squad and Helmut, turning on your earpiece with frantic movements even as you unbalanced without one of your gauntlets.

You tried Helmut. You tried Ana, Branko, Claudia, Andrei, and the other members of your squad. No one answered.

The base wasn’t that far away, not when you calculated the radius of the debris. It would be difficult, but you could make it there. You had to make it there. You needed to know.

You flew above and around where the debris was falling and jerkily made your way towards the base, still not as smooth as you wished you were or as fast as you wanted to be. You arrived to the sight you hoped not to see.

The base had been hit by a large piece of debris from the city and was collapsing in on itself. You landed as smoothly as you could a distance away and caught yourself on a tree, falling to your knees. No one could have survived that.

Helmut was gone. Helmut Zemo was dead.

Your chest hurt and your vision was blurry as your mind whirled.

You had survived, while Helmut had died. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. You would never see him again.

How did this happen?!, was your last thought before slumping backwards into a faint.

In your horror at the base’s collapse, you had forgotten the existence of its reinforced underground bunker where technology did not work and where your entire squad including their leader, Colonel Helmut Zemo, waited for the dust of Novi Grad to settle. Very much alive and in quiet mourning for their lost Q. They would exit through the tunnels a few hours later, coming out miles away from where you collapsed.

In fact, you wouldn’t recall the bunker’s existence until a little over a year later and by then it would be too late.

---------------------------------

You awoke in the hospital. It took you a moment to realize what had happened and where you were. With that, came the realization in your mind that you would never see Helmut or hear his deep voice calling you his Q ever again. Despite the gaping hole in your chest and your desire to let yourself be numb, you needed to find Alena. You gasped and sat up too quickly before falling backwards out of dizziness.

You breathed in and out to calm yourself the way you often had as you assisted your squad in the completion of missions, and clicked the button to raise the bed as you looked around the room. You were in a gown and had no idea what had happened to your gauntlets and boots, but hoped they had been destroyed in the landing.

You heard Helmut’s voice in your head as you pinpointed the potential exits and any possible weapons.

“The first step, my Q, is to always survey your surroundings. Get your bearings and be prepared for anything. Be prepared to fight, but also to run if necessary. There is no shame in running. Running can save your life and I, my darling Q, would much rather see you alive .”

You smiled bitterly before letting it fade. You were not in any shape to run at the moment, and Helmut was no longer there to advise you. Your memories of him would have to suffice.

As you surveyed the room, you glimpsed your pack in the corner of the room and what looked like your highly damaged prototypes alongside it. There next to your bed was a crib and laying inside was Alena, who looked clean, like she had been changed, and who was sleeping soundly.

You let a small and real smile touch your lips. She was safe. You were safe. Both of you were alive. Helmut was not.

No, you couldn’t let yourself think of it. Not now. Maybe, not ever.

You pressed the call button for the nurse, hoping this was a real hospital and not some elaborate plot. It looked real, but one could never be sure.

“Finally awake, are you? Good, I’m glad to see it. I was beginning to worry about what might happen to your daughter.” The nurse said in rapid fire Sokovian as she bustled into the room.

“Yes, thank you. How long have we been here and where are we?” You had to clear your throat multiple times and even then your voice came out as a rasp.

The nurse poured some water into a cup, drank it, and then offered you some as well. “You probably do not remember, but you were rescued three days ago. You have been awake sporadically, and even then you were groggy. That is why you do not remember. For your second question, you are in a hospital in the Czech Republic. We are taking care of multiple Sokovian refugees.”

“But you are speaking Sokovian?”

The nurse frowned and leaned closer. She looked like she wanted to pat your hand or hold it. You were glad she did not. “Sokovia is gone. This time for good. There were not many survivors. My mother was Sokovian. I thought a familiar language might be of comfort to you. It has been to the other survivors we’re treating.”

You attempted to read her face and her eyes like Helmut had taught you. She drank the water before giving you some, which was a point in her favor. She also did not look like a plant and you let yourself relax a bit, but kept your guard up in case you were wrong. You knew that Novi Grad had been destroyed and the devastation the debris must have caused, but it was hard to believe that your country was gone. It had been failing for years, but it was still yours. Yours, Heike’s, Carl’s, Alena’s, and Helmut’s. Now, it would only exist in the memory of its survivors.

You pushed the thought of Helmut aside for the moment, but at the thought of Heike and Carl you knew what question needed to be asked. “Have they released a list of survivors?”

“Not yet, but I do not want you to get your hopes up.”

You hated to think that the nurse was right, that Heike and Carl were also gone. They had been miles from the city however, so you had to hold on to hope for their sake. You could not consider never seeing Heike’s hair in the sunlight or Carl’s smiling face again. They were part of your family. You needed to find out what happened to them. “Please let me know as soon as they release the list.”

“I will, dear. I will.” The nurse gave you a pained smile that looked more like a grimace. “Now, we got your name and identification from your pack. I was in charge of your admission papers, and did not include any reference to your military rank to be safe. Sokovia is gone, so I did not want it to make you a target. What you were wearing alone looked like it would draw some attention.”

You nodded and thought briefly, knowing that had only happened because the nurse had ties to Sokovia. She was showing honest care and concern in the best way she could, and you appreciated it. You had been correct in her not being a plant then. You pictured Helmut’s smile when you told him that you were putting his training to good use, before remembering that he was…

You couldn’t bring yourself to think the word. You had to keep it together. You couldn’t falter now. Not when Alena was counting on you.

You realized the nurse was still waiting for some kind of answer. “Thank you. A civilian life might be just what I need.”

The nurse smiled back, “Yet, we have no information on this little one. I have a birth certificate here to fill out. You are one of her parents, yes?” Alena continued to sleep in her crib, oblivious to the world around her.

“Yes,” you swallowed and rapidly thought of how to answer the next question that you knew was coming.

“And her other parent?”

“He died in Sokovia,” you felt a tear roll down your cheek. You wondered if you were prepared to continue. Saying it out loud made it real.

“I’m sorry to hear that, dear.” The nurse did pat your hand this time in commiseration before withdrawing when you tensed up. “Would you still like to put his name on the certificate?”

You steadied your breathing and hoped that when (you couldn’t bring yourself to think if) you found Heike, wherever she may be, that she would understand. You knew that you could not regret this decision. It felt too right for that.

“Yes,” you responded haltingly. The words seemed to catch in your throat. “His name is… Helmut Zemo and our baby’s name is Alena Heike Zemo.”

End of Part 1 - To Be Continued in Part 2: Burn it to the Ground…

A/N: I know this chapter was angsty, but I hope you enjoyed part 1 of this fic. Part 2 will not have as regular updates because Part 1 was pre-written, but I’m working on it. Thank you all for reading!

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aelingalathyniusrailme · 3 years

Text

If you find me on the edge, we’ll jump together.

Gwynriel pirate au pt 5

pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4

gwyn had always had an instinct for adventure. she called it her 6th sense and it had a nasty habit of getting her in trouble. she was like a moth to a flame when it came to danger and no matter how many times she got burned gwyn just couldn’t resist.

that instinct was on was on fire as her eyes roamed the revealed map.

she looked up to see the captain of the shadowsinger, frozen in shock with his lips slightly parted. “hey you good over there?” she waved a hand obnoxiously in front of his face “you look like you just saw the damn weaver”

azriel didn’t respond, his tanned skin had turned a sickly shade of green and breathing was far too fast. his hazel eyes seemed far away and though his gaze was glued to the map, she had a suspicion he wasn’t really looking. there was a glint in them that made her enemy turned reluctant ally appear animal like. almost feral.

with a start he yanked the map from the table and turned towards the door. he was fast but she was faster and as he began to open it she slipped in front him and slammed it shut. “what the hell is wrong with you!”

“get out of my way” he growled at her.

the audacity of men never failed to amaze her. “No.”

“I swear to god berdara if you don’t move, bargain or not I will feed you to the fucking sharks.”

she held her ground “I’m sure you would but right now I need you to calm down” and people wonder why she had an all female crew. men were way too emotional to do what needed to get done.

“give me the map.”

“move.”

they stood at a standstill, each of them daring the other to be the one who broke first. it was a battle of will and gwyn would not be the one to loose. it wasn’t just her future on the line, but her pride too.

finally azriel looked defeated as he said,

“gwyneth.”

gwyn heard the broken plea in his voice. she looked at him. looked past the anger in his words and saw something else. fear, it was fear. true and unbridled fear.

A part of her, a small part not yet shattered through years spent at sea, wanted to hold him to her and whisper it would all be okay. to tell him sweet lies, anything to bring back the infuriating pirate.

and 5 years ago, she might have but gwyn had a reputation and a future of gold not love. she knew the signs of a panic attack when she saw them. she had to do something.

gwyn had always believed words were useless when she could act. and acting tended to be quicker.

so she pulled her hand back and before he could blink she slammed her fist into his face.

gwyn watched as life returned to his eyes and his breathing slowed to a normal pace. the captain seemed slightly dazed before turning to look at her again.

“thank you”

she began to move away from him, “don’t mention it” but he pulled her arm back to keep her against the door. she realized how close they were to each other but didn’t dare move.

“I mean it, thank you” sincerity laced his voice. gwyn’s eyes caught on his own and she realized he had a faded scar no more than a centimeter long that cut across the outer corner of his left eye. to her dismay she found herself with a desire to know how he got it. if anyone knew that each scar carried a story it would be her.

they stood watching each other in silence. gwyn knew she should move. her mind screamed at her to move but every bone in her body kept her right where she was.

gwyn’s eyes drifted to his mouth as she felt him begin to bridge the small space separating them.

a knock on the door had her with both daggers in her hand and 4 feet between them.

“hey captain you two have been in there for a very long time, should we be worried?” the loud one, cassian she thought.

the door opened and nesta and emerie walked in. azriel looked stunned, as if he wasn’t used to people barging in. “Hey! I told you two to wait outside.”

“when you pay me we can talk about listening” nesta responded

“oh I can pay, all you had to do was ask” he said with a wink.

“is it really me being paid if you’re the only one benefitting?”

“sweetheart give me a time and place and i’ll show you who’ll be getting the rewards”

“well you sure are enthusiastic, and from what i’ve heard that should hopefully make up for lack in size”

cassian looked stunned and emerie took it as a chance to interrupt. gwyn smiled to herself, the poor guy was no match for her first mates quick tongue.

“did you two uncover the map.”

“yes in fact we did” azriel reluctantly placed the map on the table something still clearly bothering him. everyone circled around.

“holy fucking shit.” the shadowsingers first mate said appearing from seemingly nowhere.

half of the map was still blank but what was revealed was an insignia with a very intricate dragon. one gwyn was sure she’d seen before.

“exactly what I said, now I’m positive I’ve seen this before but I can’t for the life of me place it-”

“amren” azriel said quitely, interrupting her. “it’s the symbol of amren.”

gwyn felt her pulse quicken at the thought of the mythical dragon. her 6th sense dragging its claws down her spine.

“well that would make sense, use a myth to find a myth.” added emerie.

“sorry let me just recap here, we need someone who may or may not exist to find something that may or may not exist?”

“she’s real” the soft, intensity of his voice sent chills down her back.

“and how might you know that shadowsinger?”

“because we’ve crossed paths before.”

tagging: @imsointobooks @meher-sumedha @himadrij @gwynrielsupremacy @ipsa-est-lux-plenae @valkygwyn

#this parts not my fav #but like i'm really excited for the next one #smutty boat scenes may or may not be in the works #gwynriel #gwynriel pirate au #gwyn berdara #azriel #cassian #emerie #nesta #rhys #gwyn x azriel #nessian

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spice-chan · 4 years

Text

I Wish

Tags : @sacro---sainte @pixxiesdust @ererokii @etegomanere

Word count : 7 k

pairings : Kirishima x reader previous Bakugou x reader

You were kicked out of Bakugo’s majestic and overrated castle. That’s fine, you find your footing somewhere better, and build a future anew with a handsome, shark toothed dragon.

warnings : angst, implied violence, mentions of slavery ( very brief), eventual happy ending.

…...……..

Bakugou has had this thought for a while. A thought that plagued him whenever he laid in bed with you, whenever he strolled in his lavish gardens with you in the dim hours of the night.

This shouldn’t last.

Even as he reluctantly relents to your requests to meet up, spend time together, this thought plagues him. He was a king, and you were not royal, not even of rich descent. You were just...you. He was an ambitious king with plans for generations to come, enhanced senses and powers, a genius among geniuses. You were just a scholar who happened to intrigue him. Who got too close for comfort.

Bakugou, who’s mind was usually logical and unclouded, was seeing the world through rose coloured lenses.

A rabbit, with nothing on her name, and him.

But this was no fairytale, the struggle will just be ripping the bandaid off. Bakugou knows it will sting, but it will fade away with time, just like those ridiculous feelings.

“What is this about ?” You asked vehemently, trying to reason yourself out of thinking that this is true, willing yourself to believe in him.

“It’s exactly what you think.” Bakugou replied carelessly. Apathetically.

It’ll be just like ripping a bandaid off.

So why did it feel like a blue flames’ burn ?

Why did it sting like a snake’s bite ?

Time will tell, but until then, fake it till you make it. Maybe the apathy his face shows will eventually become all that he feels for you.

You just stared at him in disbelief, bottom lip quivering, eyebrows furrowing in a pained glare, sight getting blurrier.

You wanted him to tell you it’s a joke, that you’re the one that he wants to spend the rest of his life with, not a pompous, rich princess from a fairytale like kingdom. You wished he’d take you into his arms and tease you that you ‘liked him that much huh ?’

He rolled his eyes.

You wished he’d express his melancholy at parting ways with you. You wished he’d give you half hearted reasons why he’s marrying someone else. You clung to the hope that he’d lie to you, but he’d done enough lying. He broke every single promise he made to you. Still, you clung to the hope like a tiny child clings to the side of the pool, afraid of the traitorous waters.

“While you’re at it, pack your shitty things and leave, I don’t want to see you here anymore.” He ordered, moving to grab his writing quill and paper.

Writing away as if you didn’t exist.

You wished, but wishes don’t always come true. Your future with him was going to be one of those wishes, made to wither away with time.

You didn’t offer him any words of heart break, he wished you’d at least shout at him, maybe that way he’d hear your voice one last time.

No, the only thing he heard was your footsteps padding away, not even stomping, just softly enough that if his pen fell if would deafen him to the sound of you walking away.

The clock ticked, his door opened. The bandaid ripped.

And you left.

You walked aimlessly on an unfamiliar path. Your eyes looked cold, dead, their bright glow lost along with the faint yellow light in the sky. The grass crunched beneath your feet, and the trees were growing ominously large, their spine looming over you.

But you continued walking, aimlessly, and without direction. But that was the last thing that plagued your mind.

He broke up with you, he kicked you out, without hesitation. You didn’t shed a tear, but you knew the dam was going to burst.

It was your fault for having naive expectations, he was a king after all, and who were you ? A nobody compared to him.

You were probably just a distraction, seeing as he didn’t seem to have a hair out of place when he told you to leave.

You just thought he was above arranged marriages, that he was capable of keeping his kingdom solid without the aid of another. But you supposed the deal wasn’t half bad.

While you were lost in your head, you didn’t notice the camouflaged figures that began to appear around you, slowly forming a caging circle.

A hand clamped around your mouth, silencing your shrieks, while your eyes widened in fright.

You attempted to pry his filthy hands off you, your muffled shouting and crying ringing out with an echo throughout the deadly forest. That is, until the frog like man around you started to laugh, mocking how easy it was to “capture a bunny that will bring them thousands”. You dreaded the implication of their words.

You writhed in futile effort to get away, but your efforts were rewarded when you heard a growl a few feet away. A growl that certainly doesn’t belong to anyone here.

Your eyes glistened in uncertain hope, turning your eyes to look at the approaching stranger.

Now that he was closer, you could clearly see that he was a dragon, his shark like teeth bared threateningly at the man around you, his tall and buff figure dwarfing the strangers around you.

“What are you trying to do to her ?” He questioned, his red eyes holding a bloody promise. Some wouldn’t bother for a mere stranger, but Kirishima wasn’t some. When he heard cackles and distorted crying, he hoped his keen ears were deceiving him, but his eyes testified.

“Nothing, move along.” Spoke the ‘leader’, who kept his hands around your mouth, his bravado was crumpling though, his hands were growing lax, but he still tried to keep the situation in his favor. Futile effort.

You shook your head desperately, your eyes bleeding his, watching them turn grim.

He closed his eyes and sighed.

“Close your eyes, you might not wanna see this!” He suggested way too cheerfully, giving you another look at his dragon teeth.

Nevertheless, you heeded his advice, closing your eyes tightly, the darkness slightly comforting, however, the loss of sight amplified your other senses, and you were once again painfully aware of the grimy hand pressed against your mouth.

With your eyes shut, you missed Kirishima’s throat turning red as he conjured fire, the blistering rage leaving his throat and burning the man holding you. You quickly moved away when the hand left your mouth, but kept your eyes closed when you heard a painful screech. The fire of a dragon being the purest and most potent of its kind quickly transformed the man to ash.

You opened your eyes to see the remains of the man flying around the forest, disappearing into nothing along with his presence. By that point, the circle that previously surrounded you was obsolete, the cowards having fled to save their life.

You felt sick, having never witnessed something like this before, but you eased the guilt by reminding yourself that this man was going to sell you, make you a slave for some perverted and cruel old owner. Maybe even put you in a brothel with no escape. You should have been more careful, but now the lesson was seared in your head.

You could remember the barbaric laughs that rung all around you, finding humor in stealing your life, your future. They thought your struggle for freedom was comical.

They deserve to die, you bet they caused many others to wish they could. The life of slavery was a hard, inescapable one. The life of sex slaves even more so.

They deserve to die.

They do.

But that doesn’t stop your stomach from churning painfully, for your mind to keep replying the events in a loop, making you feel lower then dirt, even if you shouldn’t.

You felt nauseous.

You saw the dragon approach carefully, and despite your sickened state, you willed yourself to look at him.

“Thank you for helping me.” You said, giving him the best grateful tone you could muster.

It felt like an invisible weight was lifted from your shoulders when you saw him smile, but the sharpness of his teeth still served as a reminder of what he’s capable off.

He approached you slowly, tentatively, as if scared you might suddenly flee. Being a former knight, he was well trained into how to use his fire powers and such, so he made sure not to hurt you, but he was sure that something like that might be traumatizing for you, but it was the fastest way to ensure your safety.

When he stopped in front of you, you could clearly see his intimidating height, he towered over you, but it was hard to find him scary with that smile he sported.

“Hey, I’m sorry about that, are you ok ?” He questioned in a low voice, attempting not to sound intimidating. He visibly exhaled when he saw you nod.

“What are you doing here at night all alone ? Are you trying to reach the town ? I can escort you there.” He tried to berate you for your carelessness, but he saw how shaken you looked, so toned he down the scolding. He saw how the soft rabbit ears you had were droopy, the fluffy appendages signifying your mood.

“I don’t know where I’m going.” You confessed.

A minute passed, carrying the ongoing silence with it as you nervously fidgeted.

“Huh ?” Came the dragon’s dumbfounded response.

You lifted your head, your eyes looking up at him blankly.

“You heard me.” Came your brisk reply.

Kirishima furrowed his brows, trying to formulate a reply that wouldn’t offend you or worsen your state, but the frown on his lips showed how much progress he was making in that regard.

A chilly breeze swept past the area, making you feel frozen, even your bones felt iced. The forest was suddenly wider then ever, and you were suddenly just alone as you had been when you were 7. The moon shone, but it didn’t provide any light.

Your throat felt clogged, you tried to snap your self out of it, to say you were ‘fine’, and that ‘yes, I am going to town’. But the words wouldn’t come out, the lies refused to leave your lips.

Because no, you weren’t alright, the man you loved, the man you helped win wars, the one you woke up every morning wondering what the day held for the two of you, the one you sometimes spent leisurely nights with, planning your future, and making promises to love faithfully despite his flaws; is marrying someone else.

He said he doesn’t care that you aren’t royal, told you to stop pestering yourself with those troublesome thoughts, because he belongs to you and only you. But he lied, he strung you along, then told you to leave. Callously showed you the truth in a letter he wrote accepting to marry a princess from a prosperous land.

It felt like the weight of the world was sitting on your heart, crushing the already bruised organ.

A breeze came by again, but your face felt especially cold. You lifted a hand up, softly touching your face and feeling wetness coating it.

Oh... you were crying.

A hand clasped your shoulder, squeezing assuringly. He more or less got the picture.

“Let it out, it’s ok.” He said. You felt overwhelmed by the kindness of a complete stranger, and -

the dam broke.

Your shoulders shook violently, tears streamed down your face in endless waves, and just when a wave crashed against the shore, another, more powerful one replaced it.

The man enveloped you in a hug, his warmth cocooning you tightly, making the looming trees seem shorter and meeker, and the biting wind a little less cold. You stained his clothes, but whenever you tried to force yourself to talk amidst your tears, to apologize to him, to thank him, he would shush you and tell you to talk later.

Eventually, the onslaught of tears died down to harmless hiccups. Even tears were turbulent, and emotions were sometimes out of control, but the warmth of a complete stranger anchored you.

And when the hiccups stopped, you had a feeling that the everything will be alright.

.....

“- and he told me to leave and never show him my face again.” You finished with red rimmed eyes. The man, who you learned was called Kirishima, nodded in understanding, but his eyes help a solemn anger towards that pompous jackass. Your heart hardened at the memory of your ex lover, remembering his emotionless face as told you to read it. Knives stabbed into your heart as you remembered the words of his letter, how willing he was to set himself a wedding date even though you were the one that always stood by him and offered him endless support and love.

You ground your teeth in frustration, anger taking root where the sadness festered. But the ambers of the fire illuminating the rubies in front of you smoothened it out.

“He reeks of douchebag, totally unmanly. You’re better off without him.” Kirishima said, nodding to himself in agreement.

It was beyond his imagination how someone could not only do that, but take your home away from you for his own convenience.

“Do you have a place to stay ?”

You sighed, shaking your head. You had no one. He knew you had no one. Nowhere.

“That’s fine ! You can stay in my cave with me, I’d love some company !” He exclaimed cheerfully, trying to put you at ease. Truthfully, he really didn’t mind the company. After he quit being a knight to indulge in his natural instincts, he found an uninhabited cave, as mature dragons often do, and begun hoarding in it. The cave is meant to eventually be their own family home until the hatchlings reached a mature age and moved to their own caves.

Kirishima was trying to memorize how to get to his cave by foot, and he was glad he chose today, otherwise he didn’t want to think about what could have happened to you. You seemed like a really nice person, and regardless, nobody deserves to be taken advantage of.

He didn’t know where this sense of protectiveness came from, it could be his knight instincts making a reappearance, but he didn’t want you to get hurt at all.

He could help you get back on your feet, after all, there’s nothing that Kirishima loves more then seeing people smile in true happiness, and he has yet to see yours. He somehow felt sure it will be enchanting. But you were frowning now and looking all mopey and sad so he can’t tell.

“Would you like me to shish kebab something for you ? Food always helps me ! I can shish kebab a deer or a chicken, or a rab- no thats cannibalism for you right ? Uhh I can roast some carrots !” He rambled, watching as your stare got more and more weirded out. He started to feel self deprecating knowing he probably made you feel worse.

You laughed at his attempt to cheer you up, your mood lightening up by his intentions alone. You saw him go quiet and thought you’d better talk before he thought he weirded you out.

“You know what, I think I did bring some comfort carrots with me.” You said, reaching for your bag and pulling out some peeled carrots in a container. You gave the container to him, trying to muster a smile, although it probably looked awkward.

He seemed to brighten up, his dragon teeth making a reappearance as he grinned at you while enthusiastically taking the carrots from you.

“You can shish kebab the carrots, or whatever it is.” You said awkwardly, having never paid attention to those foods before.

He pulled out some stickes from his own bag, sticking it in the middle of the carrot so he can roast them comfortably.

Rabbit food, but he was too tired and cautious to haunt.

The carrots were clumsily made, but they tasted sweet after the roast, Kirishima appreciated the taste, although he still wanted meat. You, on the other hand, had your comfort food, but it felt like sandpaper as your mind kept replying the events of the day. Just yesterday, you felt like you had the world in your palm.

Everything passed by in a blur, you finished eating and then started walking, because sleeping here in dangerous.

You could see a faint trickle of light as the previously black sky begun turning into navy blue, and only then did you arrive to his cave. The cave that looked so high to seemed to be touching the clouds.

“If you tell me we are climbing that I’m going back to the forest.”

“Whaaat ?! No, no, I’ll fly us up there no problem !” He declared making your eyes widen in fright.

“No what the heck ?! You’ll destroy the trees !” You exclaimed in shock, unable to believe he’d be so willing to shift here and damage the beautiful trees.

His eyes widened, he shook his head rapidly while he rushed to explain “No ! I can semi transform, don’t worry.”

Your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape, suddenly seeing Kirishima in a new light. It takes an extreme amount of practice and mastery for a dragon shifter to do that. God, you really hope he doesn’t kidnap you. Maybe this was unwise, but you really wanted to sleep, and the streets were just as dangerous for all you know.

Kirishima impressively sprouted wings from his back, two horns grew on his forehead, and his skin pigmentation turning red, a clue to his dragon colour.

He carried you and flew up to his cave in ease, enjoying the familiar rush of air as he soured up to the sky, and the warm comfort of being back to his abode.

He saw the wonder in your pretty eyes as you took in the place, your eyes lingering on his massive hoard, whipping your face to him as you pointed a finger in its direction.

“You gathered all that ?!” You asked, making Kirishima puff up his chest proudly, who nodded at your question. Said hoard contained jewels unseen by the eyes of many in their lifetimes. It contained gold, rubies, emeralds, hand carved rings and hand made necklaces. Among many others.

Immeasurable to the untrained eye, but Kirishima knew everything about his hoard, down to the most minuscule jewels, because a dragons hoard is a sacred thing, a part of them, one could say.

But while every piece is cherished, one is irreplaceable. Kirishima walks over to his hoard, digging seemingly aimlessly, until he pulls out a golden ring with a ruby jewel incrusted in the middle, the first handmade jewel made by him, and the heart of his hoard. Without it, Kirishima would go crazy.

The ruby, which still shone immaculately, was his birth jewel given to him by his father.

He put it own, suddenly feeling content and safer with the weight of the familiar ring on his finger.

You looked on curiously, thinking that the red of the ruby complemented him pretty well, it brought the colour of his eyes out.

“It’s very pretty, did you make it ?” You questioned, peering at him inquisitively.

He nodded vigorously, moving his hand unconsciously to let you admire his ring better.

“I made all of those”

You did read something about dragons being hoard enthusiasts, you just didn’t imagine it’s to this extend.

Kirishima offered you some feather blankets to make your night more comfortable while you slept. Soon, you slumbered peacefully, feeling more content and safer then you have this whole day.

Life was more... anticlimactic after that day. But it a good way. You lived with Kirishima, due to his insistence and your situation, he persisted saying that you can stay with him as long as you need until you get your life back together.

He took you down the next day, as per your request, and escorted you to the town. He went to do his own thing, something about meeting old friends, while you searched for a job.

The town was full of all sorts of people, from mages to shifters, it was a very diverse place, you could even see some rabbits like you here and there. Back at the castle, there was a few rabbits that worked in logistics and the like, you were among them, as rabbits were great and distinguished problem solvers and thinkers.

Being a genius among already intelligent rabbits, you were given the opportunity to study at the age of 9 in the castle, and work there, which you did, but you guessed now you weren’t needed anymore.

Before you could get desponded, you walked around, taking the place around you but still careful not to get lost and stray to far from the meeting place.

You saw someone exist a place with two thick books clutched tight to their chest. You glanced at the door behind them, seeing an ‘open’ sign. You stopped in your tracks.

You could start there.

You pushed the door open, hearing a bell jingle, alerting a bespectacled tall man of your presence.

It was a large library, and from what you could see, there was only the man in front of you working, while a couple of others sat in the seating area reading quietly.

You approached him, making him smile politely and adjust his glasses which slipped down the bridge of his nose.

“Can I help you miss ?” He asked, his back straight as a rod.

“Yeah um, are you possibly hiring ?” You replied, getting straight to the point. He faltered for a moment, before contemplating quietly.

“I suppose it is incredibly hard to manage on my own...” he murmured.

“Very well then, can you come back tomorrow around this time ?”

You kept your excitement at bay as you reunited with Kirishima later on, who didn’t question you, assuming you came back with no luck.

This time, he made you fly on his back as he lead you back to his cave, and only when he came back did let the excitement take over. You put rationality on hold for a moment, overtook by the moment, and tackled him in a hug, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

Kirishima felt the wing knocked out of him, hugging you back awkwardly as he felt his face flush. ‘Damn, what happened ?’

You practically heard unasked question, and decided to elaborate.

“I got a job, and it was the first place I walked into ! It’s in a library.” You gushed. You liked libraries.

Kirishima’s cheeks quirked up, his eyes looking at you proudly, “I knew you could do it ! You’re so manly !” He gushed excitedly.

Manly ?...

“Huh, manly ?”

“Yes, To be manly you have to have a resilient spirit and courageous heart !” He explained, making you nod. Although you doubted his meaning, it was endearing, he was a pretty quirky dragon.

“Guess I’m pretty manly.” You mused.

...........

A while after working at the library, you managed to feel like you were finally getting back on your feet. You still think about Bakugo sometimes, and it still hurts, but the wound was scabbing, and the hurt was no longer threatening to pour out.

Throughout all of this, one thing was constant: Kirishima.

You will forever wonder what compelled him to offer his kindness to you for so long, but you will forever be grateful to him. When your heart was threatening to harden and ice over, he was be there to bring you warmth and melt it away, like a gentle flare he can breath out so effortlessly.

You never experienced having a friend like that, but you can admit that Kirishima was the best friend you ever had. He was different, but the more differences, the more things you can appreciate and learn about. He was not a man to shy away from helping someone, a quality he told you was hard earned; it’s something he had to implement into himself.

And when the moment came that you can move out, you didn’t expect it to hurt so much.

It almost felt like you were leaving your second home.

“What ? But you don’t have to go !” Kirishima said, quite loudly, that it bordered on shouting. He felt himself getting agitated, and his dragon become unsettled at the thought of you leaving. You don’t have to go.

“But, I’ve intruded long enough, I can’t take advantage of your hospitality any longer.” You coaxed, feeling yourself become upset too at seeing Kirishima’s frown. You never saw him so upset, he was always your cheerful, manly pillar.

“But you’re not intruding, I can’t even remember what it was like to live in this cave without you.” He persisted. But you had to stand your stance on this.

“You know I’ll still visit you, right ?”

His shoulders slumped, sighing, before nodding his head reluctantly.

It felt like he was parting away from his hoard for good, but he had to remember that you aren’t cutting ties with him. His adorable, bunny friend will still be around.

And so, you guys hugged goodbye, but with a promise of seeing each other.

He helped you move your stuff over to your new place, a small sharing house, you and one roommate. You accumulated quite a few things during your stay with Kirishima, along the things you took from ... that place.

Now, you got your own place, your own job, and an amazing friend, life was finally back on track, although very different from what you previously thought It’d be, this one somehow reminds you that you are still self sufficient, and even if a jerk didn’t see the point in having you around, you’ll still live a much better life then he can imagine. Even through the simplicity of it. And that, will be the best revenge.

A few months prior however, a certain hotheads mind wasn’t as lackadaisical about your parting as one would presume.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck

Did he really have to do that ?

Bakugo can remembers the heartbroken and betrayed look on your face and grimaces. He lost you forever now, didn’t he ?

Just like ripping a bandaid off, but it feels like his own heart was ripped out.

He stared at his wall, replaying his words.

He looked at his parchments, the courting letter he made you read flashes before his minds eye.

He tries to sleep, he remembers your adorable figure huddled up to him, demanding him to share his warmth, even though your own was so powerful, it seeped through to his very own blood.

He’s a king, he should behave like it and cut out those child like fantasies.

But then he thinks back to how he imaged you’d look ruling beside him. He always thought you’d look like a goddess with a crown adorning your head and a thron-

Bakugo grabs the nearest object, and throws it across the room, the chosen vase, unfortunately, shatters to it’s demise, it’s previous shape nearly unrecognizable, some pieces were so small, they were almost powder.

Bakugo grabs something else, throwing mindlessly, a beast who lost his sense of reason. He chose what he wanted to do, but his heart was protesting, urging him to go and fix things with you, to kiss you and tell you that you’re the only one for him.

Words that he spoke before, but didn’t live up to.

He looked at his room, panting in the wake of destruction.

Glass shards filled the floor, ink littered it, and blood was splattered, and Bakugou could vaguely feel a sting on his feet and hands, he wasn’t even what just occurred.

The servants cleaned it, and he finally managed to sleep, albeit restlessly.

When he woke up, a couple of hours earlier then he usually would, he sent for the butler, checking whether you were still here.

His heart fell when he heard that you left last night.

Fuck. Fuck. “Fuck.”

Where did you even go ? Bakugo processed the weight of his cruel actions. He sent you away from your only home, where was he expecting you to stay ? Was he stupid ? God, he must be a new, downgraded breed because what dickhead in their right mind would do this to the women they love ?

His chest ached, he urgently sent guards to the nearby forest and all neighboring places to look for you.

While they were busy, he busied himself with something of his own. He crabbed his quill and a paper, writing an apology letter and cancellation of the wedding. He doesn’t want to marry some pompous princess, and he certainly doesn’t really need to. He only needs you, with your support, he can achieve more then what a measly partnership through marriage can give him-

“We found no trace of her, my king.”

- but he’d already written you off his future.

A heavy weight pressed against his chest. If only he can do things over.

And a month later, he married a princess whose name he didn’t even bother to know.

He saw you you in every corner of the walls, he saw your nose buried in a book in the library, saw your eyes as the moon shone down on you. Even the flowers in his garden remind him of how they looked tucked on your ear.

His ... wife, he supposes, although he despised calling her that, was just as pompous, bratty and arrogant as he assumed. But her kingdom was powerful, now he can reap the benefits, hooray.

She always tries to get him in her bed ( Bakugo couldn’t share a room with her, a requested a separate room a week after they wed) and looks down on anyone, declaring them beneath her and not worth her time with an egocentric huff and an eye roll.

You’d never do that, you were always so compassionate.

The familiar weight pressed down even harder.

He wonders how you’re doing now. Are you happier without him ? Or are you still pining like he is. Did you... find someone else, God, he hopes not, as selfish as it is.

Just like ripping off a bandaid, he thought.

Which brings us back to here.

You sat on your bed, exhausted, but feeling as rejuvenated as ever. This is the first time you lived truly alone, and while is was slightly lonely, it gave you the feeling of freedom you never had back in the castle, or with Kirishima.

You felt like you wanted to take advantage of that, but instead you opted to sleep.

You slowly but surely adapted to your new routine, waking up, doing your shift, visiting Kirishima when you can, and spending the rest of the day lounging at home. Utterly mundane, and your roommate disapproves.

You weren’t exactly close to her, she spent her mornings somewhere unknown, and her nights partying, only coming home to sleep and eat.

Somehow, even though you moved out from Kirishima’s cave, it felt as if you’d gotten closer.

His red hair and crimson eyes made your heart do flips, and his toothy smile caused your stomach to do summersaults. It was a familiar feeling, it caused your heart to ache with a familiar warmth, but the organ was bruised.

Kirishima felt close to you, but so unreachable, he was a free spirit, who where you to bind his wings ?

So, this caused you to do the stupidest, and most cliche move ever. Yes, you avoided him. You stopped going to see him, bringing him trinkets.

God knows you missed his virile musk and familiar warmth, you missed even lounging on top of his hoard, something he insisted on you doing whenever you went to choose a spot to indulge in reading.

You used to compare him to Bakugo a lot, used to sometimes miss the blond man through Kirishima’s actions, but the moment you stopped doing that, the moment you thought about Kirishima whenever you pictured a future, it should’ve warned you, but you were too busy turning to an apple whenever he caught your stare and -

No. “Stop that” you muttered to yourself, putting away the last book in the return pile to it’s

section.

“Good work for today, (L/N) !, see you again tomorrow !” Exclaimed your employer, Iida, making you smile and nod as you walked, leaving the bookshelves behind you and bidding the bespectacled man behind the counter goodbye.

You opened the door, hearing the jingle that you became accustomed to as you closed the door behind you. You only managed to take two steps before your feet were lifted off the earth.

You gasped, instinctively hitting randomly, but relaxing your muscles when you heard a familiar voice.

“Heeey, no need for violence, or did you forget me already !” Although his tone was cheerful, there was a slight bitter note in it that you couldn’t ignore of laugh off.

“How could I forget you, Eiji ?” You replied sombrely, glancing but at him with a small smile, which didn’t manage to fully brighten the seriousness your eyes.

Eiji held on tightly to your midsection as he flew you guys up towards the sky, and it felt like he was carrying you to heaven. The pedestrians nearby stared in astonishment at what seemed to be something akin to an abduction. It happened way to fast for the moment to have been real.

Eiji brought you so high, everyone else looked to be the size of ants, their existence irrelevant, but coexisting with yours and Eiji’s. Everything below looked so unimportant, but the hands around you kelt you rooted to reality as wind whipped through your hair, and his muscular chest pressed against your back, making you scared of making the slightest movements that could shatter the moment.

Suddenly, the landscape beneath you was scrapped and replaced with rippling blue waves and sand. The blue looked so pure and unadulterated, that when Eiji brought you closer to it, you kept almost see your reflection. What a reflection, wide eyes with a mouth to match, and a sexy hunk staring back at you through the glacier mirror. You brought a finger down, touching the water and creating a small, unnoticeable ripple in the huge ocean, afraid of touching it with your whole palm and tainting it’s purity. A small white ripple as you flew was the only fleeting evidence that you ever made contact with something so divine.

How ethereal beauty is, Kirishima mused. He wasn’t about to let you be ethereal in his life though, because although enchanting, you stumbled upon him to stay.

Eventually, he landed down on the sand, putting you down to your feet gently, but already missing your contact.

You guys sat down, uncaring whether your clothes got sand all over them.

Kirishima didn’t try to mask his displeasure anymore, frowning at you grumpily.

“Care to explain why you’ve been avoiding me you silly bunny ?” He asked. The ocean continued to coexist beside you, but Kirishima was once again the only existence you cared about.

You felt the urge to pour your heart out to him, the words traveling from your brain, down to your vocal cords and to the tip of your tongue, and before after-thoughts could plague you and render you voiceless, you took the plunge.

“I like you, no scratch that, I love you.” You confessed, your eyes looking away from his, missing the crimson becoming as intense as a volcano at your confession. You loved him too ? A feeling so euphoric traveled through Kirishima, his fantasies of a future with you were now more than mere fantasies.

Your nervousness spurred you on, making you grab one of your fuzzy ears and caressing it as heated words came out like word vomit. You spoke and spoke, but Kirishima remained silent.

Suddenly, he lunged at you ferociously, stealing the very words from your mouth.

He brought his lips to yours, kissing you roughly yet passionately, as if he was pouring all his repressed desires into locking lips with you. His slightly chapped lips created just the right amount of friction as amorous sounds filled the otherwise empty ocean around you. You brought your hand to the back of his head and pulled him closer, taking his bottom lip and sucking on it gently, and he understood your cue, opening his mouth to let you kiss him deeper.

It felt before like you stood up steady in the dark, finding your footing after stumbling, now, it was like the whole world was being showcased in a clear white light.

You moved back to Kirishima’s cave, his words being ‘no mate of mine is going go be staying far’, you had to complaints. Finally, you can call this familiar place your home. While Kirishima used to be something of a freelancer, he eventually opened his own jewellery store, as per your suggestion. It became incredibly prosperous, but nothing can compare to the incredible jewels of his hoard. Or the incredible mating gift he gave you, a more feminine version of his ruby ring, hand made by him, every time you looked at your hand, you remembered his eyes and a rush of happiness would coarse through you.

Although the income was pretty high, Kirishima would never leave his cave, it was already humongous, so it wouldn’t have trouble fitting family. The business was only there to provide for your future kids with no trouble.

And as another year went by, a hatchling joined your little family. It was a baby boy with black hair and red eyes. Kirishima eventually told you that he wasn’t really a red head, but you could already spot the black roots showing so it wasn’t any surprise. You assured him that his natural hair colour was already manly. He never died his hair again. The baby boy, Eito sprouted wings at the age of two, and managed to fully shift then. Quite early, bit we made do.

The process of teaching him how to fly was frightening for you and Eito though.

You had to have him shift, then throw him off , kind of like teaching a bird how to fly.

Eiji waited down just in case, but your nervousness vanished when Eiichi flapped his wings and soared.

A year later, you gave the three year old Eito a baby sister. A gorgeous baby with red eyes and your (h/c).

Finally, the huge nest Eiji created could be out to use.

.......

Bakugo finally found a reason to divorce his wife after a year of marriage. He found her giving the head night flirty looks, and his suspensions were later confirmed when he caught them in bed in her chambers.

The divorce was quite swift as her kingdom sought to keep the shameful scandal under wraps.

Now, Bakugo could mask in his memories of you in peace.

Four years passed by in a blur for Bakugo. It’s been five years since he last saw you, and weight on his chest didn’t get any lighter. It still hurts to think about the future he scrapped, the things he could’ve been doing with you had he not gotten arrogant and decided marrying a princess was better than pursuing his future with you.

He never searched for you again after that night, you’re better off without him. What would he say to you anyway ?

He’s pathetic, still pining after a woman who he hasn’t seen in 5 years.

........

Bakugo was in a nearby village, looking for any suspicious activity relating to the recent abductions. He wasn’t required to be here, but he had nothing better to do. He’s always at the top of his work.

He walked around, straining his senses to try and capture anything conspicuous or otherwise.

He eventually found himself at a tiny playground for kids. Although by the time he arrived there, the sky was painted a hue of orange, and the park was empty save for one lone figure on a swing. He would have turned around, but he was out for anything, and being at a kids park was slightly odd.

He looked at the figure, and his throat felt as dry as a Sahara. His heart palpitated wildly when he saw your familiar figure parched on a swing cooing at a bundle in your arms.

He always thought imagined what you’d look like with a baby in your arms, but seeing it now caused him un imaginable pain. His heart burnt, as if a dagger coated with poison kept stabbing him time and time again.

Before he knew it, his feet carried him over to you, and now his shadow loomed over your figure.

You looked up, your pupils shrinking upon seeing his familiar face, hooded with a pessimistic sheen. You’ve never seen him look like this, even when he kicked you out, its a foreign look on his face, like looking at a piece of art you’ve long given up on.

“(Y/n), is it yours ?” His strained voice asked, so softly, if could have disappeared with the passing wind. He was staring at you, his vermilion eyes seeing yours for the first time in years. You’d gotten even prettier.

“Yes, her name is Eiko.” His heart dropped at your answer. You seemed fo live her a lot, you probably loved her father a lot too. A pang went through him at the thought of the lucky bastard.

He looked down at the girl, he could pretend for a moment that her red eyes were his.

How ironic for your daughter to have the same - or at least similar - eye colour as him.

It’s definitely a slap in the gut when he sees a dragon’s mating mark on your neck, and then to see said dragon himself.

“Heey babe, I got you crepes !” He said, kissing you on the cheek as if you’re the only person he sees. Which is proven when he say Bakugo and frowned, turning to you.

“Babe, who’s that ?” He asked innocently, making Bakugo grind his jaw. His head felt shaky when he saw a short boy come out from behind his dad’s legs. He looked a lot like his father. You had what seemed to be the picture perfect family.

“It’s nobody Eiji.”

#bakugou katsuki fanfics #bakugou katsuki imagine #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha fanfiction #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #mha kirishima #kirishima x y/n #kirishima imagine #bnha kirishima #dragon!kirishima #fantasy bnha #kirishima eijirou #kirishima eijiro x reader

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youarejesting · 3 years

Text

Washout.8

Banners: @purpleskies1999 Pairings: Dolphintrainer!Taehyung x SharkDiver!Jin, Mer!Jimin x Reader, Scientist!Namjoon x MerKing!Jungkook, Mer!Yoongi x Mer!Hoseok. Rating: 16+ Genre: Mystery, Romance, Comedy, Drama, Fantasy, little bit of Action, Slice of life, Enemies2Lovers, Friends2lovers, Social media au, Fake Texts, Fake Subs.

Summary: Taehyung and his best friend Y/N are Dolphin trainers at Wash Out; Marine Wildlife and Theme Park. When the nerdy marine biologist and resident veterinarian Doctor Kim Namjoon goes missing; the two friends form a ragtag team with Taehyung’s rival Seokjin and a…. Fish?

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Taehyung finished up his work and headed to the shark tanks to speak with Seokjin. What he didn’t expect was him to step out of the locker room, his dry clothes sticking to his body and hair still dripping like he hadn’t tried to dry himself at all.

Taehyung went to wave weakly and was barged by a damp shoulder. The loss of Namjoon was truly taking a toll on Seokjin and the poor guy needed a break from work to actually grieve for his friend. He was bottling everything up and it wasn’t healthy.

Pushing on Taehyung thought perhaps it would be a good idea to check up on you and the fish-man. He wanted to make sure you were okay and not doing anything that could get you killed.

Taehyung arrived and waved at you and you waved back, he noticed the young merman look at his hand and shake it to himself. Taehyung waved to him with a soft smile and watched his hand lower to a fist and he swam away.

“Are you making fun of my new friend?” You square your shoulders, even though you weren’t as tall as Taehyung you were ready to fight to protect this new friendship. He found it admirable, you had always been like this. Any creatures who couldn’t speak for themselves always had you protecting them.

“How are things going with ol’ fish tail?” Taehyung laughed as he got closer leaning over you and watching the merman circle the tank craning his neck to keep you in his sights. He seemed to be monitoring the interactions between the two of you.

“Don’t call him that, it’s not his name!” You scolded, slapping his arm and the two of you were jokingly slapping each other and the merman swam closer looking down imposingly at Taehyung.

“He likes you, all the animals do, what is your secret?” Taehyung accused, poking you once more and sitting on your desk swinging his legs. “Has he tried anything?”

“Taehyung, get out and go home.” You pushed him off the table and he stumbled aside. “Oh but if you can swing by my house and grab me some clothes and things that would be lovely. I will give you my key and send you a list via text.”

“Get to bed early, don't let that fish keep you awake, with that six pack of his.” Taehyung wiggled his eyebrows at his suggestive comment and you frowned.

“I am more worried about Dolly going into labour at any minute and having to figure everything out by myself. I tried reading over Namjoon’s work, with him not here…” Your voice trailed off.

After consoling you and assuring you were the best choice after Namjoon and that he checked his watch. “I have to hurry if I am taking the bus.”

The bus arrived at your house after twenty minutes. Taehyung had been to your apartment multiple times. So it wasn’t a shock to him that you had almost no furniture. You were a minimalist. Preferring clean and clutter free. You had appliances sure, but no sofa, only bean bags, a small table with only two chairs. To any newcomers it looked almost like the place had been robbed or was frequented by squatters.

He packed a bunch of your swimsuits, giggling when he grabbed the more alluring styles. You would definitely win the fish over in these. He made sure to conveniently forget shirts and pack only the shortest of shorts. He wanted you to have more confidence in your body.

Packing your bag with a few random items, your favourite sketchbook, pencils and snacks, Taehyung headed back to the amusement park. He walked past the security guard smiling and commenting about the long evening ahead.

He weaved past park cleaners and more security on patrol and arrived at the old marine clinic warehouse and saw you dancing to some music while making some ramen. He placed the bag down and smiled, waving at the merman, placing the keys down on the desk silently before sneaking up on you.

It seemed like the fish didn’t like this. He was banging his fists on the glass which didn’t get your attention. Taehyung was able to poke your sides with a loud ‘Boo!’. You shrieked eyes filled with fear searching the surroundings for any sign of a threat. Until they landed on Taehyung where they narrowed and a pair of chopsticks collided and bounced off his head.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” you shouted clutching your heart, Taehyung thought it was funny watching you jump.

“Go shower while your water boils, I know how to cook Ramen.” He gestured to the bag on the table and watched you rush off. Over your shoulder he saw Jimin glaring directly at him but softening his expression when you gave him a hand sign of five fingers. He gave back a thumbs up awkwardly watching you until your figure was no longer in sight.

Taehyung spoke to you through the shower roof vent, “This fish really likes you, you should try getting in the tank again. He hasn’t stopped glaring at me since you left.”

“He isn’t glaring he just has a strong gaze” You defended, “I heard Seokjin called the office and asked for some time off, you should go check on him, he seems to be bottling up his emotions over the loss of Namjoon.”

“Yeah he doesn’t look like he is doing well.” Taehyung breathed, nodding, “I will give him the Taehyung break up special.”

“Yeah but he doesn’t like chocolate but he loves chocolate flavoured things or and he loves strawberries but doesn’t like strawberry flavoured things.” You shouted making Taehyung halt in his steps, your house keys jingling in his hand. “What he told us at the company dinner,”

Taehyung looked thoughtful for a moment and nodded, rushing off to catch the last bus. It took longer to cross the town but soon enough he had arrived at the door of Seokjin’s home. Hands full of bags, snacks and a soft plushy. The only one left in the convenience store was a Alpaca wearing a red bandana around its neck.

He took a deep breath and raised his fist to knock.

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Tags: @backinblack1967 @miriamxsworld @moccahobi @simplymemyself @a-gayish-unicorn

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just-my-fandom · 4 years

Text

One After Another (Cisco Ramon x Allen! Reader)

Chapter 1

Table of Contents

Part 1; Reader and Cisco meet their son from the future. Nora and their son admit to why they can’t go back to the future.

Request; Hi yes! Can I request a story? Or two long parts? Where the reader (Barry’s twin sister) and Cisco are married and reader is actually pregnant, and Nora shows up with a boy couple years older than her, and they reveal to be Barry and Iris’ daughter and the boy is reader and Cisco’s son, Dante? You don’t have to if you don’t want! Not forcing!

Tag list; None currently.

. . .

“Are you sure you dont want to know the gender?”

“I’m positive, Ralph,” You nod your head slowly, once, hands at your stomach and holding up your glass cup of (Favorite/Drink), “I mean, it’s not a big deal to me. We’ve already decided on names, Dante for a boy and Nora for a girl, simple,”

“But you guys could have a huge gender reveal party!” Ralph pleas, when Barry gets up to answer the door that was knocked on twice, “You could have party poppers, or have Joe dress up in a diaper!”

“I’ll kill you,” Joe threatens, and you snort, looking over your shoulder when two figures step into the living room, both darting their eyes around the living room as to scan each member of team Flash,

“I’m sorry,” Your brother rubs the back of his neck, brows pinched together as Cisco shifts in his spot beside you, arm along the back of the couch as his free hand held his wine glass- lucky, “Who are you guys?”

“I’m Nora,” The girl hesitates, hands wringing together, “Nora West-Allen,”

Before anyone can question on her last name, the boy next to her shifts, his eyes flicking to you, “I’m Dante,” You feel your chest tighten strangely, “Dante Henry Ramon,”

You feel Cisco cough on his wine, his hand behind you covering his mouth as he looks up at the young male, his brows pinched as his eyes then flicked to yours, “What?”

“I know this sounds super weird!” Nora tosses her hands in front of her, watching as her aunt and uncle stared at each other, before looking back up to her and Dante, “But we need your help,”

“I thought we were done with time traveling,” You sigh, tiredly, Cisco cocking his head in a “seriously?” motion, so you shrugged,

“What-what can we help you with?” Barry stammers, eyes narrowing slightly in thought,

“Dante and I were able to come to the past,” Nora explains, “Which is where we helped you destroy that satellite,”

“Wait, you’re a speedster?” Cisco points to Dante, your son forcing out a nervous laugh and a nod of his head,

“Great,” You murmur, so everyone looked to you, “I lose my speed and my son gains them,”

“Uh, you actually get your speed back after you give birth, Aunt Y/N,” Nora smiles, and watches as your lips pull upwards,

“Seriously?” You punch the air, free hand on your stomach, “Yes!”

“Okay,” Cisco shakes his head, standing up, “You’re telling me that the baby inside her right now,” He points to your bump, then raises his finger to Dante, “Is you?”

“Exactly,” Dante nods, “But I’m from 25 years in the future,”

“So you’re saying,” Barry runs a hand down his face, hand resting at his chin, “You’re my-our daughter,” He gestures to Iris, “And you’re my nephew?” Dante nods,

“I was named after both dads brother and Grandpa Henry,” He explains, looking to Nora, “Nora was named after Grandma Nora,”

“I see it as a win-win,” You grin, Cisco gesturing a hand out to you in disbelief,

“How are you so calm?”

“We’ve seen weirder things than this,” You remind, grasping the edge of the couch to stand, “Get me up, I can’t stand watching you drink wine while I’m stuck with (favorite/fruit) juice,”

“Why don’t we go to STAR Labs,” Iris speaks up, watching Cisco take your hand and raise you to your feet, allowing you to fully get a look at Dante, “We can figure all this out there, let you guys explain,”

. . .

“This is...”

“Weird,” Cisco finishes Barry’s sentence, looking to his brother in law who nods, both watching the two speedsters race around the speed lab, a mix of purple and yellow lightning blending with (favorite/color),

“Man I really miss my powers,” Your lips purse in a pout, hands curled under your stomach as your eyes easily kept up with the two speedsters,

“Can you really believe that’s our son up there?” Cisco murmurs, your eyes flicking to him, smiling at the grin on his face, “No matter how weird this is, it’s cool as hell,”

“I just can’t believe that we have a son,” You glance up to the running speedsters, “I was pretty sure Baby Ramon would be a girl,”

“Okay, we both know I was routing for a boy,” Cisco reminds, and you laugh, head tilting back with a grin.

“We need to be responsible with this,” Barry speaks up, your smile faltering as you look to him, “We need to find a way to send Dante and Nora back, and fast,”

“Yeah, I kind of agree,” Cisco purses his lips, “Even though this did ruin the “find out the gender at birth” scheme we were going for,”

Two figures speed to a stop behind you, your body turning to look to Nora and Dante both grinning at each other, them then looking to their parents in front of them,

“Okay guys,” Caitlin steps up, ordering the two to give her a hand, where she pierces their finger with a needle, “This is gonna link us up with your biometrics,”

“And these scrunchy things,” Cisco nods, moving in front of Dante to clasp the device around his wrist, “Is gonna analyze your connect with the Speed Force,”

Both teenagers nod as they both in sync look at their devices, grinning at each other before sprinting back around the speed lab,

“And what does it say?” Barry asks Caitlin, who types up the screen in front of her,

“A quick analysis of their DNAs show patterns that are familiar to all of you,”

“I knew it,” You nod, pursing your lips, “They’re our kids,”

“Well of course, Dante’s got my amazing hair,” Cisco twirls a lock of his hair, grinning when you shake your head.

“What about them being stuck here?” Barry continues, watching the quick interaction between his sister and best friend,

“Everything’s normal,” Cisco mutters, his own eyes on his screen as you move next to him, “They both have the speed force in their systems, they’re just... not going fast enough to open up the portal back to their timeline,”

Barry nods as his phone vibrates, glancing down with a short huff, “Damn, I was supposed to meet Singh at CCPD an hour ago,”

“Be safe,” You demand, your brother nodding before he speeds off, allowing you to look back up at the two speedsters, smiling lightly before looking back down to Cisco, his eyes looking up to meet yours before his hand presses to your bump, winking,

. . .

“I can’t believe I’m wearing the same tachyon enhancer my dad used to meet Supergirl for the first time,” Nora grins in excitement to her cousin next to her, who allowed Cisco to make adjustments to the same advice on his chest,

“I know, right?” Dante nods, gesturing to the device, “Mom had one too. But just the thought of them meeting Supergirl- cool as hell,”

“Alright,” Caitlin laughs, stepping back from Nora, “You’re both all set,”

“Did all these suits shrink?” The team looks up to Barry pulling at the bottom of his old Flash suit, your nose scrunching, “And why does it smell so bad?”

“Because it’s the one you used when you swam against King Shark, Uncle Barry,” Dante snickers, Barry nodding in realization,

“We should get going,” Barry presses his lips together as Dante and Nora frown to each other, Nora nodding in agreement, sadly,

“Then this is goodbye,” Dante says, clapping his gloved hands together as he glances to you, where you smile, softly, “It’s good to see you again, mom. I guess I’ll see you in a minute,”

“It was great meeting you,” You nod, “Even if it was six weeks too early,”

Dante laughs, glancing to Cisco, who holds up a pointed finger, “Answer this for me. Do I keep my long gorgeous locks even when I’m in my fifties?”

Dante holds up a finger to his lips, Cisco’s eyes widening in terror as he looks to his wife, where you laugh and snort against your hand, watching as Dante moved to the side of Barry Nora wasn’t at.

You wait, patiently, when the three speedsters rush off, looking over when Wally speeds up next to you, his hand at your arm, warningly, “Did they already leave?”

“Yeah, why? What’s up?” Iris asks, Wally shaking his head as he releases you,

“We have to stop them,”

Your eyes flick in alert to Cisco, flinching in alert to the explosion heard from behind the doors,

. . .

“Sorry I was too late,” Wally leans forward on his elbows, looking up to Nora on the labs bed, Dante and Barry both holding ice packs to their heads, “We got their Gideon to scan Nora and Dante’s blood samples,”

“Whatd she find?”

“Negative tachyons,” Wally sighs, your brows pinching as you glance to Cisco next to your chair,

“Negative tachyons?” Cisco questions, “So what, instead of speeding you up they slow you down?”

Wally nods, warily, Cisco frowning and huffing, “Well damn I was just joking, that’s a real thing?”

“Yeah. Ava and her team at the time bureau have encountered them before, but no one knows where they come from or how they’re generated.”

“Like Dark Matter for the space time continuum,” Barry nods,

“Exactly. They’re keeping Nora and Dante from entering the Speedforce,”

“Okay. I’ll work on this, you guys go help Ralph with the Gridlock crime scene,” Barry demands, ordering Dante and Nora to stay at the labs,

. . .

“We have to tell him,” Dante leans against Cisco’s desk as he watches Nora stare at the group photo of their family, his eyes staring down at the floor, “Uncle Barry at least deserves to know,”

“Nora,” Barry speaks up, so both Dante and Nora looked up at him, “What happens to me? In the future?”

Nora, Dante and Barry all stand in front of Gideon’s screen, the bright words, “FLASH VANISHES IN CRISIS,” shining in their faces,

“How long?” Barry orders, Nora tapping the screen so a new news article shined, saying, “25 YEARS LATER- FLASH STILL MISSING,”

Barry clenches his jaw, Dante clearing his throat, “You never come back,”

Barry glances back to look at him, then Nora, “How old were you when it happened?”

“I was born a few years before you vanished, I was at the age where I don’t have memories, but Dante, was,” Nora answers, shortly,

“Youre not stuck here, are you guys?” Barry realizes, Dante glancing down at his feet before looking up at his uncle,

. . .

“So you’re not stuck here,”

“No, we’re not,” Nora glances up to look at Iris, who sits in the seat in the corner of the West living room,

“So the reverse tachyons in your systems?”

Dante looks to Caitlin, “Were put there because of us,”

“Are you kidding?” Cisco asks, leaning on the couch beside Ralph, “Do you know how many credit card points I just blew just trying to get rid of those negative tachyons? I just bought a brand new spectral tachyeometer when I could’ve taken Y/N on our Fiji get away,”

“Why didn’t you guys tell us about this before?” Iris asks, “And why tell us when Y/Ns not here? She will be thrilled to know Dante gets to stay longer,”

“We can’t tell Y/N,” Barry instructs, Cisco looking up at him with pinched brows,

“And why not?”

Nora lifts her wrist to show the hologram of the same news letter from earlier, Cisco sitting up to read it more clearly,

“Barry never returns?” Cecile gasps, looking over to Cisco,

“Y/N doesn’t even know I disappear,” Barry explains, “And she can’t know. Not now,”

“And why not?” Cisco repeats, “You just want to throw it at her last minute as if we don’t know it’ll happen years in advance?”

“We don’t know what the news will do to her,” Barry reasons, gesturing to Dante, “She could go into early labor, complications can happen due to stress,”

“When uncle Barry does vanish later, mom falls into depression,” Dante tries, Cisco looking to him, “The realization of her losing not only Grandma Nora and Grandpa Henry, but uncle Barry disappearing, it takes a huge effect to her,”

“That’s why you came here,” Joe points to Nora, “To see your father,” Then Dante, “And your mothers brother before he vanished,”

“Well,” Iris stands up, Nora glancing up to her, “Looks like Dante and Nora will be able to train some more, after all,”

Dante and Nora look to grin at one another, Barry announcing to meet at STAR Labs in the next hour, “We’ll make an excuse as to why Dante and Nora are able to stay longer,”

. . .

“Babe? We’re home,”

You look up from the stove with pinched brows, stepping in the entrance of the kitchen so you see not only Cisco, but Dante,

“We?” You question, Dante pressing his lips together with a wave, “Were you not able to get him and Nora home?”

“Actually, yes,” Cisco nods, setting down his jacket, “But, Barry has decided to let them stay longer, train them more on their powers,”

“Will it not affect the future?” You ask, glancing up at Cisco when he moves up to you,

“Barry’s got it all under control,” Cisco nods, “Dont worry,”

“Okay,” You sigh, hands at his torso as you look to Dante, “Well. Welcome home I suppose. Why don’t you go get settled in the guest room, since, you know. Your bedroom is still a nursery,”

Your son laughs, nodding, “Yeah. Thanks mom,” You watch as he disappears down the hall, glancing up at your husband of three years,

“Mom,” You repeat, Cisco smiling as your eyes flash with warmth, “I’m never gonna get used to it,”

“Two more months,” Cisco reminds, hands slipping from your waist to your stomach, hands under your shirt, “And we get to meet baby Dante,”

You laugh, nodding, hands sliding around his neck to tangle in his hair, “I love you,”

“Mm, not as much as I do,” Your husband teases, leaning forward so his lips met yours, hand sliding to your back to pull you closer, so your stomach pressed to his,

You release a sigh against his mouth, smiling as you lean back, “C’mon, I made your favorite,”

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biaswreckingfics · 4 years

Text

No Limits: Bonus Chapter

Author: biaswreckingfics

Genre: Mafia AU - Warnings? Everything that goes on in a mafia au

Word Count: 1.5k

Previous Chapter

A few weeks had passed since EXO wiped the Baem off the face of the Earth, and things around the compound had definitely changed for the better. Everyone was less stressed out and less on edge, and it was a nice change from what you had grown used to. Ever since you came along, the men had been worried about the Baem. You've never known them in a world where the Baem weren't a problem, so it was fun to explore their more carefree personalities. That didn't mean, however, life had become all fun and games.

EXO's business nearly doubled when they eliminated the Baem. They picked up a lot of the Baem's old contacts since none of them wanted to risk working with a smaller, less experienced group. Of course, if EXO wasn't on everyone's radar before, which you were pretty sure they were, they definitely are now. They were one of the most powerful groups on this side of the hemisphere.

With the influx of business, Junmyeon had become buried in paperwork. He tried to say it was a nice change from blowing things up, but you knew he was two seconds away from throwing all of the paperwork in a pile and lighting it on fire. Minseok helped him with a lot of it, but he was often too busy helping Jongin train the new recruits.

Yes. New recruits.

After the success Jongdae and his old crew had in taking care of their districts the night the Baem were taken down, he threw out the idea of them possibly joining EXO. As it turns out, their old crew jumped at the opportunity to join. They were more than happy to help continue on Kyungsoo's legacy. They were a rowdy bunch, but they loved to share stories about Kyungsoo and Jongdae during their teenage years and embarrass the crap out of Jongdae. Plus, they got along with Jongin almost too well. Minseok often became exasperated by the bunch when the two were supposed to train them.

Everyone was beyond ecstatic that the Baem were no longer a threat. They felt like they were able to avenge their lost loved ones and come out on top in the end, but that didn't mean once everyone got home, everything was fine and dandy.

It took a couple of weeks for everyone to fall into a playful mood because there was one important member that was MIA at first, but once Sehun came home, everyone's spirits quickly lifted. You could see the change in him as soon as he came back, but whether that was due to his time with the Baem or losing Jaesuk, you weren't sure. You had very little doubts that both things played a significant role.

It took about a week before you could see Sehun becoming more and more relaxed and happy. Undoubtedly, it was partially due to Chanyeol and Yixing sticking by his side constantly and distracting him whenever his thoughts started to turn dark. The two men did everything in their power to help the youngest learn to cope and eventually accept the loss of not only Jaesuk but Kyungsoo as well since he had never had the chance to mourn him.

Sehun often came to you when he wanted a break from the two men or when he just wanted some peace and quiet. He knew he could come to you, and the two of you could talk about everything under the sun or nothing at all. It was comforting for him to be with someone he trusted and just exist, and you were grateful to be one of the people he could do that with.

While you did spend a lot of time with Sehun and the other men, the majority of your time was spent with Baekhyun. Your main source of comfort, calm, and happiness. Baekhyun no longer held himself back because of his fears. He made sure he told you he loved you every single day, especially if one of you were leaving the house and he did his absolute best to make you feel like the most special person on this planet. He had surprised you in the best possible way.

Admittedly, you had a more difficult time than you thought you would after killing one of the leaders. You had never taken someone's life before and while you didn't regret a single thing, it was still weird and unnerving to know you snuffed out someone's lifespan earlier than expected. You thought about their kids here and there, but the guys made sure to tell you that you shouldn't feel bad and often tried to get you to stop thinking about it.

Mostly, a small part of you was worried that you had caused future you problems by killing their fathers. What if you had created future monsters? Just like what was done to you and Junmyeon? You sought revenge for what was done to your parents, and you hoped with everything in you that they wouldn't continue the cycle.

This worry had caused you enough stress that Baekhyun had taken it into his own hands to actually plan the trip he had mentioned the day you attacked the Baem. Well, he semi-planned it and said, "the two of us will go wherever the wind takes us". He surprisingly got the okay from Junmyeon before you even knew it was happening and then, in the blink of an eye, you were getting ready to leave for a three-month-long trip to explore the world.

All that was left now was to say goodbye.

Of course, the was easier said than done, thanks to Sehun and Yixing literally refusing to let the two of you leave the house.

"You guys... we're coming back." Baekhyun sighs after five minutes of trying to get out the door. "It's not like we're going to stay away forever."

"No. You're leaving for too long. I won't allow it." Sehun stubbornly stands his ground.

Junmyeon walks over to the front door and shoos them away from it. "Come on. Come on. Let's let them go on their way."

"I want to go on a trip..." Jongin grumbles before shooting a glare at your brother. "I can't believe you're okay with this."

You smile at the oversized pouty babies in front of you. This was the infamous and widely feared EXO? Yixing literally looked like he was about to cry. "We'll be back in no time. Until then, how about you guys just don't blow up the city again."

When Jongin and Sehun looked away from you in the most suspicious way possible, your eyes immediately flashed over to Junmyeon, who had already narrowed his own at the two youngest. He opens his mouth to immediately scold them for whatever trouble they were about to get into before changing his mind.

"I'll deal with you two later. For now, you two," he points at you and Baekhyun, "have to get going, or you'll miss your flight."

After another round of hugs, you find yourself hugging your brother one last time. The moment was sweet, and you were happy until he ruined it when he pulled away from your embrace and pointed at you.

"Do not come back pregnant."

Your mouth falls open in shock, and you whack him in the arm while the men around you excitedly discuss what it would be like to have a little EXO baby running around the compound.

"I'm serious. I just barely got used to the idea of the two of you. We do not need a mini you running around here."

You feel Baekhyun's arm slide around your waist, and you look over to see him smiling mischievously at your brother.

"You're not ready to be an uncle yet?"

When Junmyeon looked like he was ready to knock Baekhyun out, Baekhyun laughs and relents. "Alright. Alright. We'll just make sure to get in a lot of practice for when you change your mind."

Before your brother could murder Baekhyun and ruin your trip, you push him towards the door. He fights you on it a little before finally letting you win the power struggle and opening the door, letting out a loud laugh thanks to Junmyeon's murderous expression.

When you hear Jongin lean over and ask Minseok, "He doesn't seriously think they haven't already been having sex right under his own roof, right?" You quickly wave goodbye to the guys and follow Baekhyun out the door.

As he stands on the porch waiting for you with a giant, happy smile lighting up his face, excitement floods you, and you can't wait to start your trip with Baekhyun and open this new chapter of your life. Who knows? Maybe someday you and Baekhyun will bring a mini you into this world but until then, you were going to live life to the fullest and start making some happy memories for once in your life.

Tagging: @knjkitten @kpopserene @multifandombxxch @tashaxvamp @kpop---scenarios @bhyunni @chanyeolismybaby @flaming-laboob @taetaeeyong @lilbitoflyssa @misstressporkchoppp @hoseok-wang @spiltkpop @ishas454 @depuis2mille @marovekian1 @ladylynae @abby8451 @lynniev @insta1010 @sawadabegum @avxngxrrogxrs @equesasprokishi @imstuckinafictionaluniverse @layisanangel @mongryong-the-corgi @overthelamebowz @lizbether01 @thatanonymousgirl-as14 @nothingbutadeadesceane @kim-ji-hyeons-world @suhappysuho @futuremrspcy @lovebuginlove @skylions-den @precious-seungwooya @softysuho @kuppyjiminie @blushinyouth @bat-shark-repellant @vickylamore @heartshapedenchiladas @cardtak @tanithrea @wooya1224 @multifanstuff @hyuniebaby @sehunnies-hunnie96 @endzii23 @kkpoptrashhh @mayzerofour @ries-universe @xcharlottemikaelsonx

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be-not-afeared · 4 years

Text

Black Sails fic recs

Working titles: 12 fics for christmas? 12 days of ficmas? 12 fics none of which actually have anything to do with christmas?

OKAY, so I love nothing more than a fic rec post, and I’ve seen a few Black Sails rec posts floating around but they mostly seem to be a couple of years old and they all recommend a similar bunch of fics (and deservedly so! they are all amazing!). But I thought I would make one to highlight some newer or less shouted-about fics, because I may have only been here for a couple of months but jfc there is so much talent in this fandom and more of it deserves to be hyped.

So, here are 12 of my favourite fics for the 12 days of christmas! (i.e. an excuse to put an arbitrary number cap on the list or we’d be here all day)

The majority of these are Silver/Flint and the ones that aren’t still all feature Silver prominently because that boy owns my soul, sorry for who I am as a person.

we should rip it straight out by minormendings

45K (Silver/Madi, Silver/Flint, Flint/Thomas)

Madi has always wondered if Silver understands what is between him and Flint as well as she. To her, it has always been obvious, from the way the two of them had fit together, had worried about each other, had acted as one. She had tried to bring it up with Silver back when they were together. But Silver had shaken her off, too enmired in the idea that he or Flint would prove each other’s downfall. Or perhaps just unwilling to open his eyes to the fact that he had loved Flint.

It was, unfortunately for the both of them, even more obvious after the thing between them had broken. Just as Silver had thrown away the war out of love for her, Flint had let Silver take away the war rather than kill him.

God. What a group the three of them were, showing love by betrayal.

Post-canon. Madi and Flint find their way back to Silver.

This fic diverges from canon right at the end of the 4x10; Silver has Flint held in a cell in Port Royal and Thomas delivered to him rather than taking him straight to the plantation. It is a BEAUTIFUL character study of how Flint and Madi could both come to forgive Silver, and has a great FlintMadi dynamic too. It also centres Madi’s struggle between wanting to provide for her people and wanting to experience the freedom of piracy, and fleshes out Julius’ character in a way the show never did.

we can lose and call it living by I_wouldnt_be_one_of_them

31K (Silver/Flint/Thomas, Silver/Flint, Flint/Thomas)

It's been twelve years since everything fell apart, and John Silver is settled in New England. He has a nice house and a job he likes, and he's gotten used to the loneliness. It's a good life, he thinks, but of course that's cast into doubt when James Flint and Thomas Hamilton show up to find closure and, apparently, to see whether he's happy.

This is an inverse of the ‘silver arrives on flint and thomas’ doorstep’ trope and has Flint and Thomas instead being the ones to interrupt Silver, who is living a sad and lonely existence post-series. I love the ThomasSilver dynamic here. And this Silver feels so true to canon he makes me want to WEEP.

Tell me we're dead and I'll love you even more by Craftnarok

21K (Silver/Flint)

In the year 1725, or thereabouts, John Silver finds himself driven by a storm into an inconsequential little port town, barely a speck on any civilised map. Returned to the life of a drifter, tired and rough around the edges, he is resigned to waiting for the weather to pass before he can sail on again to the next town, and the next, and the next. That is until he overhears a conversation in the inn about a local fisherman, one Captain Barlow, and his tall tales of tempests and becalmings, devils and sharks, and Silver finds a new future opening up to him, haunted by the spectres of his past.

All of Craftnarok’s fics are amazing but I am particularly drawn to this one; it’s set 10 years post-series and is a delightfully angsty exploration of how Flint and Silver could find their way back to each other in a scenario in which Thomas wasn’t at the plantation. It doesn’t let Silver off easy and I love that.

armed with the past and the will by whimsicalimages

3K (Silver/Madi, Madi & Julius)

The language of winning and losing, this language that men favor – Madi can speak this language, though she disagrees with its precepts. Success takes different forms, and failing once does not mean failing forever. It does not even mean failing the next time.

Post-series, Julius teaches Madi how to fight. This fic is BEAUTIFUL - give me anything that centres Madi post-canon - and it explores Madi’s relationship with both Julius and Silver so well in so few words.

Always In Season by mycapeisplaid

60K (Silver/Flint, past Flint/Thomas, past Silver/Madi)

Towering sand dunes, crystal-clear water, miles of forest, vineyards, orchards, and very spotty cellular service -- John Silver finds himself in a part of the state he's never been before and decides to take on seasonal work. Meanwhile, back from his yearly wintering in Florida, James Flint thinks that perhaps he'll take on a new business venture, even though it means he might have to interact with people other than his two close friends. Their summer employment fosters a friendship that could become something more. Like construction season in Michigan, the two must navigate through their own obstacles in order to seek an alternative route toward happiness.

This is an AU and so much fun!! Silver finds himself in Michigan and takes on some seasonal work at Guthrie Dunes. The whole cast features and the setting just WORKS SO WELL. And this Flint feels brilliantly in character despite the difference in setting.

to make a life by gone_girl

53K (Max/Anne, Max & Silver)

“What am I going to do with your name?” Max asks, a little incredulous.

“Whatever you want,” the salesman says. “Didn’t you want something real?”

Max heard a story once about the importance of answering questions like that carefully. If something emerges from the forest and asks for your name, don’t give it up, the story went. Offer only what you know you can live without. She’s never heard a story that tells her what to do when something emerges from the forest and offers its name to you.

I literally only finished this this morning but holy shit this fic is amazing, it’s a Max-centric AU set in Missouri the early 00s and it’s all about found family and building community and platonic love and it has a brilliant SilverMadi dynamic. And there just aren’t enough fics out there that focus on Max & Silver!!

the straight walk home by vowelinthug

73K (Silver/Flint)

Let me tell you a story, about a vaquero named Vasquez…

Obviously vowelinthug’s fics are recc’d all the time and rightly so as they are AMAZING, but one that I don’t see featured as often as the more prominent ones is this incredible Western!AU. It’s 73K guys!! It adapts the canon narrative into the Western setting SO well!! It has background Vane/Billy which I was not at all sure about going in but just WORKS!! Go read it.

The Truth about Eros by Aisalynn

21K (Silver/Flint, Silver/Madi, Flint/Thomas)

Silver understood one thing very well.

Being Fated did not mean you were safe.

It did not mean you were loved.

This one is hot off the press! I am not normally a fan of soulmate AUs but this is such an interesting take on the trope, and the world building fits around the polyamory theme of the show really effectively! And it is SO well written.

With Nothing on My Tongue by RosieTwiggs

13K (Silver/Flint, Silver/Madi)

"Silver thinks: Maybe God likes it when I fight with him.

He wonders now, whether he’s been playing into God’s plan all along. Because no matter how angry he gets, how defensive, how many “fuck you”s he flings to the heaven, isn’t it all just proof that he still believes God is there, despite it all?

Silver doesn’t know how to counter that.

Maybe he doesn’t want to anymore."

An incredibly well written (and angsty! read the tags!) Jewish!Silver character study. This one has really stayed with me.

Maybe in Another Life by samedifference61

31K (Silver/Flint/Madi, Flint/Madi, Silver/Flint, Silver/Madi)

At the rail of a ship James doesn’t command, they stand shoulder to shoulder.

“John still thinks you’re dead,” James states, because it’s something that needs to be said aloud before they continue.

With eyes unblinking toward the rolling sea, Madi says, “And he still thinks you should be dead.”

James’ lip curls in anger. The wounds of betrayal are too fresh for either to say anymore.

Canon-divergent from 4x09, this is a brilliant MadiFlint centric fic exploring their relationship post Silver’s betrayal, and how he could find his way back to them both whilst acknowledging the weight of his actions.

in a vault of starlight by whimsicalimages

7K (Silver/Madi/Flint/Thomas)

The distance between Nassau and Savannah can be measured as: six hundred and thirteen nautical miles, five thousand pounds’ worth of pearls, or four extraordinary lifetimes.

Alternatively: in the aftermath, Madi writes her own story.

There aren’t enough Madi centric fics out there! This one is a lovely extension of canon with a great MadiSilver dynamic in particular.

the aftershocks remain by pdameron

31K (Silver & Miranda, Silver/Flint)

For as long as he can remember, John Silver has been able to see ghosts. He has no trouble keeping this secret from Flint - until Charlestown. Until Miranda.

Again all of pdameron’s fics are brilliant but I loooove this SilverMiranda centric one, plus who doesn’t love a ghost!au.

#Black Sails #black sails fanfic #black sails fic recs #silverflint #silvermadi #john silver #james flint #12 days of ficmas #obviously this only scratches the surface of the many amazing fics in this fandom #i might do another one of these after christmas i just love making lists #enjoy!

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xxisxxisxxis · 4 years

Text

Gateway Drug | Part Ninety-One [PT. 2]

Words: 2.5K

Warning(s): explicit language, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of domestic abuse

Tag List: @unknownoblivion @edwardtriggerhandzz @haileynicoleseavey17 @cierrasixx19 @oskea93 @mgkobsessed @sharon6713 @itsametaphorbriansblog @miriampraez @allie-mcginn @xpoisonousrosesx @rebeccaphillips14 @nicholeh7 @lilmou5ie @emariehorror @divaanya @6ixx6ixx @ratedrkohardychick91 @floregrohlssard @oldschoolimagineblog @abaldboi @liith-ium @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @ytwahsog @scarecrowmax @random-internet-user-4471 @solohqrry @sparxx27 @kaitieskidmore1 @cruecifymesixx @meetthesixxter @arianareirg @gingerspicetalks

@fancywasmyname1 @teller258316 @ggorehorror @blowinmeupwithherlove @xrosegoldwolfx @mylifeisjustafeverdream @redlipscrystalskies14 @str4nge-haze @reigns420 @sixxseconds2love @leatherandheels @dogmom2014 @allyouneedislove-mp3 @n0-self-c0ntro1 @viinceneil

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED

"Your little one is here as of right now." Dr. Telille says, pointing to a very little area to the far side of my womb and I smile before she switches the focus slightly and then looks at the screen with a slightly odd look before flipping through my chart. "At your previous Obstetrician, did they mention any abnormalities?" She asks me.

"No." I shake my head.

"You said in your history you've had recurrent miscarriages?" She asks next.

"Yes."

"Okay, Mrs. Sixx, don't be alarmed by this because there is a solution but this," she turns the screen to me again, pointing at a shadow in the picture that looks like it's creating bunny ears or something. "Is a layer of tissue that's not supposed to be there. It halts fetal growth, and ultimately causes miscarriages, often times even before a fetus is interacting with the tissue itself, physically." She informs me and I feel like my chest is throbbing from how hard my heart is beating. "The good news is that we can fix this, I've had to do a few surgeries like this before--we can go in and cut that tissue out without disturbing your baby, but we will need to have it done within the next week--two weeks at the most." She explains and I raise my brows.

"What's my chance of carrying out my pregnancy to term without the surgery?" I ask, trying to stay calm.

"With a successful surgery, there is a 80% chance of you carrying it to term, and a higher chance at not facing as many pregnancy difficulties in the future like you've had previously. Without the surgery, with your history, it's very, very probable that you won't get to four months without miscarrying--if that far." She adds.

"What's the risk of this surgery causing complications?" I ask next.

"30%." She replies and I breathe out. "You don't have to make a decision today, you can go home and think about it and talk about it with the father but we need to get it scheduled in the next few days."

"Um, o-okay…" I rub my lips together.

"And if you are interested in the surgery, we can go ahead and send it in and see if insurance will cover it." She assures me.

"I don't have maternity insurance right now." I tell her and she looks at me uneasily.

"No worries, we can figure the costs out after you decide if you want it or not." She tells me, calmly, and I just nod.

I numbed myself. I would've been freaking out, having a meltdown, begging God to spare my damn baby for once...but as soon as she started in on what was wrong with me, the negative outcomes...I flicked the switch in my brain and just let myself feel absolutely nothing as best as I could. My nervousness was relief compared to blatant breakdown mode that I knew would hit inevitably.

And how the hell did I tell Duff and Nikki that I was going to need surgery that could potentially terminate my pregnancy--or suffer what I'd suffered before and still lose a baby? Oh, right. I didn't. At least, not as soon as I probably should have.

When I get to my new little house I'm renting with my savings, Duff's sitting on the little porch, drinking a beer.

"How'd it go?" He asks me, standing up as I unlock the door.

He couldn't go with me this time because he had to go look at a couple houses with Mandy, which I understand because they had already canceled once with a real-estate agent and would get charged extra if they missed another appointment.

"Good." I lie, clearing my throat.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Whisky's barking at us until he realizes it's me, and then he won't get out from under my feet until I pat him on the head.

"I need to finish unpacking." I say before Duff can ask anymore questions.

"Well, it's your lucky day because I know how to unpack." He states, grinning.

I go change into pajamas and when I get back, he's pulling pictures from one of the boxes, neatly placing them on the coffee table in the living room and I pick them up and start figuring out where to put them.

"So, my family really wants me to bring you up." He says, optimistically. "I was thinking leave Sunday and come back next Saturday."

"...Duff, I can't just up and leave right now. I have to finish unpacking, and I'm gonna be meeting with Nikki once a week and then him and the guys once a week so that's two different…" I trail off as he cuts open another one of my packed boxes with his pocket knife, a look of disappointment on his face. "...It's not that I don't want to, you know. I just have a lot going on right now."

"We'd just be gone for a week." He says, looking at me. "It's the only time off I have for a while since we're doing a few shows in New York and Europe." He adds. "And I really want my family to know you, kinda, before you have the baby."

"I don't know." I hesitantly tell him and he licks his lips. "I don't know, Duff, okay? I just...ughhh." I groan, raking my hands through my hair.

"If you don't want to meet my family then don't worry about it, Vivian." He says it a little passive aggressively and I raise my brows.

"'Vivian'? Since when the hell am I 'Vivian'?" I ask, mimicking his tone.

"That's your name isn't it?" He asks next and I cross my arms.

"You usually call me 'Viv', or...something…"

"Well, I'm not calling you, 'babe,' or, 'baby,' since we aren't dating anymore so…"

"You're being a dick."

"I'm not being a dick. I'm just family oriented and I want my family to know you and our kid and you're making up excuses to not go and meet them."

"Excuse me for not wanting to be judged." I snap back.

"They're not fucking judgemental."

"Oh, so you're cussing at me now, too, huh?"

"Quit trying to start an argument." He tells me.

"I'm not starting an argument, I'm making a valid point."

"You're making an assumption." He corrects me. "My family isn't judgemental. They're really not. I don't even think they're worried with the fact that you were married when we got together because they haven't said a word about it. They just want to meet you."

"Matt didn't seem so cool about it." I mumble.

"Matt was trying to keep both of us out of trouble." He explains. "He wasn't judging you. He just doesn't like drama and if we would've gotten caught he knew it'd just be a bunch of bullshit we'd have to get thrown at us."

I just stare at him.

"And I'm sorry for cussing at you, but I'm trying to be positive about all of this and I really don't want you to start bringing in your negativity." He exhales.

"My negativity?" I raise my brows, laughing humorlessly.

"Please, just come to Seattle with me next Sunday. I promise it'll be fun and my family's fun, they don't mean any harm by wanting you to come up and visit--they're already talking about planning a trip when it's born to be here for you and me both for a few days." He adds.

I think about it, seeing his eyes glint a little as he slowly smiles at me like a hopeful puppy.

"Okay." I relent and he puts his hands above his head, folding them together, letting out a loud, "Hallelujah!" and I roll my eyes, trying to hold back a chuckle.

The truth is, I don't want to leave Nikki stewing that long after revealing to him my miscarriages. He never came back when he left the therapy session yesterday, and I was supposed to go back today but decided I needed another day to just think about everything, but because of Amber's schedule, we won't be able to get back in the same room together--aside from me just visiting him--until next Wednesday...but with Duff wanting to leave Sunday and come back that Saturday, I won't be able to meet then, either. A part of me isn't even sorry that I won't make it since the morale of Nikki's story is that he married a maestro of manipulation that can play victim like no other but is really an evil bitch who loves to make people suffer.

I gathered that after reading:

"I married a fucking demon."

"Vivian climbed from hell just to neuter me."

"My wife's a fucking lunatic."

"I sometimes think Vivian's waiting for me to die so she can get the money."

"I hate her."

"I don't know what's killing me faster: my looney wife, or smack. Doesn't matter--they're both my drug of choice."

"If she didn't know how to fuck I would've already left her."

"She flushed every bit of what Jason dropped off last night. Cost me a couple grand. I'm so pissed, if I knew she wouldn't beat the shit out of me and go batshit-ballistic, I'd lay her out on the fucking floor. I'm sure it'd be like foreplay in her sick mind, anyway."

"I swear she cums every time she belittles me."

And, my personal favorite:

"Just woke up from a fucking nightmare. I was fucking around with Vivian and Vanity and once they got their satisfaction they started eating me alive while talking about their love for God. Even with them gnawing on me alive with their shark-like teeth and their completely black eyes, stripping flesh from my bone and going at it like a fucking pork chop, I was turned on. But as soon as they started about God, how good and wonderful he was, that's when I started panicking a little that I OD'd without realizing it and was in hell or some fucking incarnation of it. I see now that's how they both got me, being hot and knowing exactly what to do to get me going. And now they're both sucking the life out of me, eating me alive, while praying to their God and acting like they're blameless in my destruction. CHICKS = TROUBLE."

At least we both agree that we married demons.

It was strange for me to realize how he saw me--well, how Sikki saw me. Once I was able to differentiate between the two of them, it hurt less reading what he'd write about me. It was just confusing.

One page would be an entire rant (with unflattering, random song lyrics to match) about something I did that pissed him off--sometimes things I wouldn't even realize I did to make him upset and then the next page would be decently positive things about me that he'd profess after waking up sort of sober…

I knew he felt guilty about how he treated me, most of the entries from the end of '83 to '87 had "I'm an asshole" or "I really fucked up" or some version of it in them but the deeper into '87 he got, the less and less apologetic he got. Both in real time and his dairies.

Despite the black and white of his diaries, one thing still lingered in the grey area…

I stare at the little TV on my dresser, bowl of captain crunch in hand as I stuff my face while flipping channels, Whisky gnawing on his chew toy as a flickering, fuzzy and static blaring familiar face flashes across the screen as I turn to the next channel. My heart stops for a moment, my finger immediately going back, the screen and audio clearing as I see her.

Clear eyed and competent. A far removal from what I last saw of her with her gnashing teeth and tortured eyes, spewing at Nikki and I both before he and her got into a fight that left her dragged down the stairs of our old house...guilt tugs at me, remembering the look on her face, the pain, the hurt...perhaps she felt as bad as I did about the situation.

He was the one telling her he was going to leave me and marry her, after all. My feury swallowed him before it ever thought about swallowing her.

"...I'm currently looking at other scripts for other films." She replies very calm and composed to whatever question her interviewer was asking...I'm assuming this is part of her press run for her new movie coming out.

"If you could write a ticket for yourself, Vanity, what would it be?" The woman asks next and she furrows her brows, slightly.

"Write a ticket? To go somewhere?"

"No, write a ticket for the rest of your life, and your career. Just everything about your life." She explains.

"Ohhh," She thinks a moment before shaking her head slightly. "I wouldn't want to do that, actually, because, um, everytime I turn around something new's happening. I'm a very spontaneous person. I just like to get up and go, and I've been doing that since I was fifteen...so, um, I couldn't say I'd like to write that ticket." She chuckles a little, but not the crack-cackle I was used to seeing in her past interviews.

She's actually sober here.

"I just wanna go wherever life takes me." She continues.

"What you're saying then, is, you couldn't write a ticket because what you would write wouldn't be as good as what could happen?"

"No, I don't--"

"--No?"

"No, I don't think that, I'm not saying that at all. I feel that I have certain goals in my life. Very big, big, dreams that I set for myself. But I wouldn't wanna, um, question God's way about where he's going with me." She states. "That's just...not me."

"If you could go back and change anything--"

"--Nothing." Vanity says, biting her lip nervously, shaking her head.

"Any of the decisions?"

"Nothing."

"Wouldn't change a thing?"

"Nothing." She buckles down on it and I feel my eyes gloss over. "Wouldn't change a thing…" she trails off, thinking for a second. "...Can't say that I would." She adds, softly. "Because each time that I've done something, whether it be a mistake in my life, it's always...what you might call a mistake in my life is never a mistake to me. It was a definite meant to be and it was a definite learning process. So all the pain and all the glory...I wouldn't change a thing."

She's so unapologetically sincere.

I cut the TV off as they start closing out the interview, and toss the remote across the room, losing my appetite and putting my bowl on my nightstand before I allow myself to replay what she just said.

And I cry, not because she was in a relationship with him, not because she tried to steal him from me...I cry because I regret everything. I regret marrying Nikki. I regret meeting Duff. I regret getting pegnant.

I'm not angry at her.

I envy her.

#nikki sixx #nikki sixx x oc #nikki sixx fanfiction #gateway drug

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punkrockmads · 4 years

Text

"Wait... Your Birthday is WHEN?!"

Abby x Fem! Reader

Requested by: @bitchinzzz

(Takes place in Avalon after the 2nd game, Abby and Lev do not run into the Rattlers)

You never understood why people fussed so much over birthdays. To you, it was just another day. Another day of surviving the infected. You enjoyed seeing how happy other people were celebrating their birthdays. You especially loved the smile on Abby's face when you gave her an album for her to store her coin collection in earlier that year. And you enjoyed the way Lev hopped around the house with so much joy when you found him a huge stuffed shark a month after that for his birthday. But, you never felt the need to celebrate yours. You just enjoy making others happy. You never mentioned your birthday to Abby before and that wasn't about to change. So when you woke up on the morning of your birthday, you didn't bother saying anything to Abby or Lev.

You crawl out of bed, kissing Abby's forehead and pulling the covers over her shoulders. She mumbles incoherently, brows furrowed, before settling down again. You chuckle to yourself quietly, leaving the bedroom you shared with your girlfriend to get ready for the day. The Fireflies have a pretty comfortable setup on Catalina Island; almost as nice as it was in Jackson.

Your family had left Jackson without you to follow something you thought was simply a rumor. They went looking for the Fireflies. You went after them but soon found out they never made it. You found your mother, father and older sister hanging from trees in the forest... gutted. You lost it and hid in the basement of an abandoned house. You had been there two days when Abby and Lev had found you. You've been with them ever since. You always smile when you think back to how flustered Abby was the first few weeks.

The new Firefly base has power, running water and even a giant gate that keeps the infected out. The three of you were even given your own house in the town. Speaking of power, you need to get breakfast ready. Lev will be up soon. He's been begging your friend, Marcus, to let him patrol the fence line with him and, after weeks of begging, you and Abby finally said he could as long as he stayed beside Marcus.

You walk across the landing to Lev's bedroom door. He always sleeps with it cracked. You don't bother him about it, knowing he feels safer that way. You peek through the crack, making sure Lev is okay. The same thing you do every day. As always, he's sleeping peacefully, clinging to his giant shark plush, a smaller one laying at his feet.

You back away from his door, going downstairs to start breakfast. The living room window is open, letting in a gentle breeze that creates goosebumps on your exposed arms and legs. You only wore one of Abby's shirts and a pair of underwear to bed that night; the Summer weather being too hot to wear anything else, especially with Abby's warm body pressed against yours. You search through the kitchen, deciding scrambled eggs would be the easiest thing to make. You even have some bread you baked a few days ago left.

Although your cooking is excellent, you definitely enjoy baking more. Ingredients for pastries are very hard to come by but, whenever you manage to find them, you absolutely love baking pastries for your family and the children that live in the base. Abby says it's such a "mom" thing and teases you about it but you know she loves it when you make her favorite cookies. Every time she smells the faint scent of lemon coming from the oven, she can't help but smile. You remember her even crying a little when she found out you'd baked a cake for her birthday. She knew it probably took you quite a while to gather those ingredients. So, she finds it slightly odd that she still doesn't know when your birthday is. How is she supposed to plan something special for you?

As you're cooking eggs on the stove, Abby walks into the kitchen wearing a simple white tank top and dark green pyjama shorts. Her hair is pulled into a loose ponytail, falling over her left shoulder. You turn to her, giving her a loving smile as she walks toward you. She stands behind you, pulling you into her arms so you have to reach forward a bit to keep the pan on the stove.

"Morning, love." You say, feeling your back pressed against her warm stomach. Abby leans to press a small, gentle kiss on your right cheek.

"Good morning, angel." She mumbles against your cheek with a sleepy voice, fingers moving under your shirt and dancing along your waist. You laugh lightly at the ticklish sensation. "Did you sleep okay?"

You nod with a small hum, reaching to turn off the stove. "Did you? Sounded like you were mumbling again. Strange dream?" You turn your head to look up at her as she sways the two of you side to side slowly, a habit she's picked up over the many months you've been together.

"Good dream, actually." Abby says, a small smile on her face.

"Oh yeah? What about?" You ask as she lets you go to grab a few plates from one of the wooden cupboards. She sets them down in front of you, clicking her tongue.

"You, Lev and I celebrating Christmas." Abby begins, grabbing forks out of a drawer as you plate the eggs and bread. "Lev seeing a Christmas tree for the first time." Your smile grows wider at the thought of Lev's face lighting up at the sight of a Christmas tree. "I noticed something else, though." She pauses, carrying two plates into the dining room and setting them on the table.

"And what was that?" You ask as you join her, bringing the remaining plate and silverware.

"You had a wedding ring on your finger." The way she speaks slightly quicker doesn't go unnoticed by you. She's trying to be cocky, but she's also shy.

"What are you suggesting?" You fold your arms over your chest, looking at her with a playful grin.

"What, you don't wanna get married in the future?" Abby teases back, raising her eyebrow. You chuckle, letting your arms drop to your sides.

"As long as I'm marrying you." You state as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Damn right, you'll be marrying me." She says, matter of factly. You roll your eyes, looking to the clock on the wall. It's almost 7:30.

"Lev should be up by now. I want him to have time to eat before going with Marcus."

"I can go wake him up." Abby offers.

"That's okay." You peck her lips, turning to go upstairs. "I left something upstairs, anyways." Her eyes are so warm; so inviting. You wish you could gaze into them forever and escape this world of kill or be killed. You think of how different your life would be if the infected never existed as you walk up the stairs. You knock on Lev's doorframe and, hearing no response, you push the door open. Lev is still sleeping exactly how he was earlier.

"Good morning, Lev." You call softly from the doorway. He just lets out a groan and buries his face in his shark. You chuckle, walking over and ruffling his already messy hair.

"Go away." He whines, his voice muffled by the stuffed animal. "Let me sleep forever." You have an idea you're sure will work. You walk to the door again, putting on a fake frown.

"Okay, if that's what you want." You sigh. You see Lev peek up at you, looking at your feigned sad expression. "I guess I'll just have to tell Marcus you changed your mind about patrolling with him. He's gonna be so disappointed but... I'm sure he'll understand." Lev sits up quickly, looking at his clock. His eyes go wide.

"I'm gonna be late!" He yells, scrambling out of bed and running past you. You laugh, hearing him run into Abby and her telling him to slow down before he gets hurt. You walk back into your bedroom, searching through yours and Abby's stuff.

"Dammit, where did I put it?" You mutter to yourself, searching for the small box of children's books you found in a basement you had cleared on your last patrol outside the gates. You're supposed to help out at the daycare today and you're more than excited to show them the new books you found for the younger children. You let out a huff when you find it tucked away in the corner of the closet.

You carry the box downstairs, listening to Lev tell Abby all about his dream about riding a giant dragon and flying to Paris. You set the box down by the front door so you won't forget it before joining your family for breakfast. After eating and doing the dishes, you and Abby go upstairs to get ready for the day.

"What do they have you doing today?" You ask her, pulling a burgundy colored top over your head.

"They want me to help a scouting team clear out a building about a half hour away." She sighs, adjusting her belt. "Nothing big." You hum, glad she isn't doing something too dangerous. Compared to what she used to do at the WLF base, these missions were a lot safer. You asked her if these missions were boring one night while the two of you were cuddled up in bed.

She shook her head, saying that, if anything, they were a lot less stressful. You mostly went on missions with her but, when you found out the daycare workers needed a bit more help, you decided to spend a bit of your time there. Only after Abby assured you she'd be fine with you not tagging along every once in a while. It did help knowing she wasn't going out there alone. They always sent a team of five, sometimes more if necessary.

"You taking those books to the kids today?" Abby asks, watching you lace up your boots. You nod, grabbing her arm to pull yourself up. "I'm sure they'll love them." She smiles. "And Macey will be really excited to see you again." You chuckle a bit at her comment about the little four year old that has grown to adore you. She lost her mother at a very young age so you became a surrogate of sorts.

"It has been a while, hasn't it?" You smile, cupping Abby's face in your hands. She leans down, touching her forehead to yours and wrapping her arms around your waist.

"She's probably losing her mind." Abby laughs, her toned stomach pressed against you. "Her dad might not be around much longer. I'm worried about her." She says, tone going serious. Her father is sick; in and out of the infirmary constantly.

"Anything happens, we'll take her in." You say, repeating the agreement you and Abby had made with Macey's father. The two of you agreed to raise the girl as your own if anything were to happen to him. He knows how much Macey loves you and your family. Abby nods, kissing your lips. You stay there for a moment, letting her soft lips rest on yours until you have to pull away for air. A knock on the front door makes you both walk downstairs. You open the door, letting Marcus in.

"Hello there, ladies." He says in his thick southern accent, stepping in and brushing locks of black hair out of his eyes. Abby calls for Lev and you hear him rush around in his room, trying to get ready quickly.

"You need a haircut." You chuckle, tugging at his hair lightly.

"Ow! Hey!" He laughs, pulling your hand out of his tangled mop he calls hair. You let go, shoving him. He shoves you back and you land against Abby's chest with an 'oof'. You look up at her and she chuckles. The three of you are good friends; always teasing each other. "You guys almost ready?" Marcus asks and you nod as he sits down on the couch. Abby picks up her backpack, putting it on her back. You checked earlier to make sure she has everything she needs for her mission. And then, just in case, you double checked.

"Lev, we've gotta go soon!" Abby calls up the stairs. Lev comes down the stairs moments later, shoes still untied as he reaches for his backpack. "Slow down and tie your shoes, goober." Abby grins at his eagerness. Lev sighs, doing what he's told.

"Please make sure you stay by Marcus, okay?" You say to Lev, slightly worried. Yeah, they'll be right outside the gate, but what if something went wrong?

"I will. Promise." Lev smiles, standing up. "Can we go now?" Marcus looks to you and Abby to make sure everyone was ready to head out.

"Yeah, c'mon." Abby says, leading everyone out the front door. You grab the box of books before closing the door behind you, walking beside Abby and Lev. As you're walking to the daycare, Abby takes the box from you, making you look up at her with a questioning gaze. She just gives you a mischievous smile. "Hey, Marcus. Hold this. She quickly hands the box to the man and grabs you, slinging you over her shoulder and making you yelp in surprise.

"What the hell? Abby! Put me down!" You protest, punching at her back. She only laughs along with Marcus and Lev. You notice a few amused looks from some of the other people who are out and about doing their daily tasks. You feel your face heat up. "Abby, stop! You're embarrassing me!" You groan. You feel her pinch the back of your thigh playfully and you smack her shoulder blade. "Abigail!" Your protests turn into annoyed whines but she doesn't set you down until you reach the daycare. Marcus hands you the box before ushering Lev along, leaving you and Abby to go patrol. "Hope you enjoyed the show, jerks!" You yell after them. Abby just grabs your chin, moving your gaze to meet hers.

"You're cute." She says, pecking the tip of your nose.

"Be safe, okay?" You whisper, wrapping your arms around her neck. You wish she didn't have to go. You'd prefer it if she stayed with you and helped with the children. But, that isn't an option today. She has responsibilities.

"Always." Abby promises. "I love you."

"I love you, too." You smile. She kisses your lips once more before turning and walking away. You watch until she is out of sight and head inside the daycare. Immediately, the young kids look to you and smile.

"Y/N!" They all yell, getting up to swarm you. Several pairs of arms wrap around your waist, making you chuckle. You notice a little banner hanging up by the chalkboard in the front of the room. 'Happy Birthday'.

"Alright, kids. Settle down." Violet laughs. Violet has been running the daycare for quite a while along with a much older woman who moved on to help teach the older kids. When you found out Violet had been stuck with twelve kids, all six and under, you just had to step in and help whenever you could.

"Who's birthday is it?" You ask once all of the kids have returned to their desks.

"It's mine!" A little boy with curly red hair says from the corner. You smile.

"Happy birthday, Adam!" You set the box down on a shelf beside the door. "How old are you?" He grins, revealing a missing tooth. He holds up four fingers. "That's super cool! My birthday's today, too. But I'm much older than you." You say, laughing at his shocked gasp.

"Today's YOUR birthday, too?!" You turn around to see your favorite little girl bounding toward you, her long blonde hair bouncing with every step. She clings to your leg.

"Yep." You say, simply. Macey tugs on your arm, silently asking you to bend down. You do as she wishes, looking into her deep blue, playful eyes.

"What's in the box?" She whispers, squishing your cheeks with her little hands.

"You really wanna know?" You tease. She nods, her eyes wide and full of wonder. You pull her hands away and stand up, walking over to the box. You place it on the floor for all of the kids to see. They all go crazy, so happy to see brand new books for them to read. You let them look through the books, a smile on your face.

"Thank you for the books." Violet says, standing beside you. "They're really going to love them."

"It's really no problem." You smile. "I'm glad they'll be of use instead of collecting dust in that basement."

"So, are you, Abby and Lev gonna do something big for your birthday later?" She asks.

"No." You state, simply. "They don't even know it's my birthday." Violet looks at you like you just drank bleach.

"What?!" She exclaims, her voice barely heard over the babbling kids. "Why haven't you told them?"

"I never really celebrate it. I don't feel the need to." You shrug. She turns away.

"I guess some people don't celebrate their birthdays." Violet says. "Hell, my brother doesn't even remember when his is."

"Hard to keep track of." You say before Macey runs up to you and grabs your legs, repeating little cheers of 'thank you' over and over.

Later that day, you head home to find Lev and Abby already there. You join Abby in the kitchen, helping her prepare dinner as she talks about her mission. When she asks how your day with the kids went, you mention Adam's birthday and it makes her pause. She realizes she still has no clue when your birthday is.

"Hey, when is your birthday?" Abby asks, setting the table.

"Today." You say as if she's just asked what time it is. She almost drops a plate at your response.

"Wait... your birthday is WHEN?!" You laugh at her shocked expression.

"Today." You repeat.

"What- why didn't you tell me sooner?" Abby stumbles over her words, walking back into the kitchen.

"I don't know." You respond, turning to face her. "It doesn't really matter."

"Of course it does!" She takes your hands in hers, running her thumbs over your knuckles. "It's your birthday, baby! If anything, you should at least be celebrating the fact that you survived another year of the apocalypse like a badass." You roll your eyes at her little smirk. "Tell you what, we don't have to do anything exciting tonight. But, I still wanna do something special so... how about the three of us stay up late and watch a movie? Then, we sleep in tomorrow?" You contemplate the idea. Neither of you had work to do tomorrow and it would be nice to spend a night cuddled up on the couch with your family. Maybe you could make it a bit more interesting...

"Can we watch a scary movie?" You ask. "Nothing too inappropriate for Lev, though." She sighs. She's never been the biggest fan of scary movies. They're usually too predictable. The psychological horror films are her favorite because they mess with your mind.

"Alright." Abby agrees. "We can watch a scary movie."

"Okay." You smile, kissing her cheek and going into the dining room. You call for Lev to come eat dinner and he says he'll join as soon as he's finished his drawing. Abby walks in after you, pulling you close. Your eyes go wide when she pulls you into a kiss. Once you process what's happening, you let your eyes close and kiss back. She runs the tip of her tongue along your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You deny, pulling away and grinning at her annoyed groan. As much as you'd love to continue, Lev would be coming into the dining room any minute. Besides, it's way too much fun teasing her and watching her try so hard to continue only to be forced to wait patiently. She settles for kissing your temple, lingering for a brief moment.

"Happy birthday, beautiful." Abby whispers, nuzzling her face into your hair.

"Thanks, babe." You say, resting your forehead on her shoulder. She makes a mental note to never forget your birthday and even starts planning an extravagant celebration for next year that she would most likely have to force you to attend.

#tlou2 #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #lev tlou #fanfiction

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