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#but 'I'm forced to conclude' when alone - he was REALLY trying and you can SEE that
bumblingbabooshka · 9 months
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Coda. You of all people. Grief. The way Kes had to break Tuvok's hold on her & The way he kept asking if she heard anything - anything at all.
Open yourself to the impressions around you, The thoughts, the minds that are on this ship. All the minds that are on this ship. So many voices.
They are a turbulent storm, and you are the one who must rise above the tempest, to a place that is quiet. It's difficult.
You must lift yourself from the confusion of the storm. Soar into the quiet space among the stars where everything is still. Is there a voice that you can hear? A single voice isolated in the stillness?
Is there anything? Any presence in the void with you? I can't hear anything.
Now I am with you, moving through the quiet space. My thoughts join with yours, extending the range of the search.
(You have to find me.) (Surely, you must know I'm here?) Empty. Alone. (We've shared so much.) Failure. Forced.
Tactical Officer's Log: Is there anything? Is there anything? Is there anything? I('m searching for) a good friend, one I can never replace.
Is there anything? Is there anything? Is there anything? A single voice, isolated in that void? (we've shared so much.) I don't want to come up for air. My lungs force me to breathe.
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noosayog · 1 year
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wc: 700
warnings/content: reader uses she/her pronouns, university AU ft. Atsumu
part 1. directory here.
--
A light incessant tap on your door has evolved into a knock with the intensity of someone running from murder. Unlucky for the person on the other side of the door, no serial killer inspires enough altruism in you to take kindly to their knocking bloody murder at your door at -- you crack open one eye to glance at your phone -- 2:56 in the morning on finals week.
Your footsteps stomp heavily across the floor of your studio and you swing open the door without looking to see who it may be. If you were more awake, you'd scold yourself for the serious lack of awareness.
"What the fuck do you want," you growl at the figure.
In the hall, a tall, blonde man you’ve never seen before holds his hands up in surrender at your tone. He gives you a smile that would irk you if you could be more irate than you already are. He gives you an up and down which makes you bare your teeth at him and he drops the smile.
"I'm sorry to bother you-"
"You better be. What do you want."
His eyes dart down to your legs then back up again.
"Nothing," he says, starting to emulate some nerves in his voice. "I really am sorry because I actually don't need anything. I live down the hall and we're playing truth or dare and my friends dared me to come knock-"
You've heard enough and slam the door in his face.
--
The next morning, you wake up predictably grouchy. You're trudging down the hall to your last final of the year when the door on your left suddenly slams open and a familiar blonde-haired body barrels straight into you. Unable to withstand a wall of muscle multiplied by the force of his body slam, your body goes flying into the opposite wall and you crumple into the floor, vision going white.
"Oh shit," you hear someone mumble.
You feel someone roughly grab your arm to lift you up, but you tear your arm away, staying on the floor to snap out of your vertigo. You feel the arm let you go but the body the arm is attached to hovers over you, arms circling over your body as if he were a metal detector but the metal he's trying to find is bodily harm dealt to you.
"Are you okay?" the metal detector asks.
"What the fuck do you think, asshole?" you snap when you regain some semblance of motor function.
"Jeez, are you always this grumpy?"
You finally look at the offender to find the same man at your door earlier this morning. He grins at you, introducing himself as Miya Atsumu, as if introducing oneself is the natural course of action after giving the counterparty a damn near concussion. He offers you a hand, bright, sunny smile still plastered on.
You slap his hand away and stand up by yourself. After a quick assessment of your essential body functions, you conclude that you're probably alright. You muster up the nastiest glare you have in your arsenal of glares for different occasions and ignore him, continuing on your way.
"Hey, hey wait up," he says, running after you. "I wanted to apologize for last night."
"Apology accepted. Please leave me alone."
"Great then! What's your name? Maybe we can be friends since we're neighbors."
You don't dignify that with a response and instead propel your legs faster, practically running away from him.
He keeps up easily though. By the time you're on campus, your calves are burning, but the whole trek, Miya Atsumu has continued circling through his never-ending carousel of conversation topics, not even breaking a sweat.
Finally, at the university center, you make towards the left and he says, "I'm actually going this way. This was fun, neighbor! Your legs are more muscular than they look!" He flashes you a thumbs up. You sigh in relief, wondering why the fuck he's talking about how your legs look when you suddenly remember that you sleep in just a tank top and panties. You realize the weird ups and downs he was giving you last night were because you were practically naked. As if the day couldn't get any worse, you decide to visit the clinic to propose a lobotomy to forget the events of the past 12 hours (you actually just wanted some aspirin because you had a headache that had spiraled into serious nausea by the end of your final) only to find that you have a concussion.
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bomberqueen17 · 10 months
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The Witch King
This is not like, a coherent review or anything.
Yesterday I was just like possessed with anxiety nonstop the whole day and everything I did seemed to make it worse and i just like spun my wheels and I got some things done but mostly felt worse and worse and more and more stressed, due partly to external circumstances but largely, i think, to nothing in particular. And finally after dinner I was sitting on the couch comfortably and realized you know what, fuck it, I am not going to "try to write" and wind up refreshing tumblr and chatting on discord all night, not while I'm already fretting and stewing like this, i'm going to be miserable and probably get in a fight or something and i don't want that. Fuck it. So I went to the tab I already had open in my browser, which I'd had open for weeks but the time was never right, and I bought the kindle version of Witch King and read it right there in my browser, the whole way through, did not click away or put it down or move or do anything else, and you know what it was fantastic.
I'd read a preview and been like hm i don't know what this is about and read a couple of amazon reviews that were like this was really confusing, some of which concluded so i didn't like it and some of which concluded so i super liked it, and like, I've been a fan of Martha Wells since she put the Element of Fire up for free chapter by chapter on her Livejournal when the rights reverted to her in like 2006 or so, so I knew what I was going to get and also knew that I would not particularly know exactly what I was going to get until I got it, and I also knew I was going to enjoy the ride, but I hadn't wanted to read it in stolen or exhausted moments lest the "this is confusing" bits prove too much.
In the end I found it not in the slightest bit confusing, it was a very straightforward interspersed flashbacks storytelling technique that i thought suited the story beautifully (not to be spoilery but we join a character in medias res with an action scene and it's him trying to figure out who has betrayed him in a complicated political scenario, and in the process of unspooling this he has to revisit the site of where the complicated political scenario was first set up, some sixty (?) years earlier, so he's retracing his own steps and it's really well done I think, introducing new bits of history right as they're relevant to the current storyline-- and just fantastically done, not at all forced, completely natural and compelling, and no the reader isn't told anything they don't need to know but you do get everthing you need to know, there's no unneccessary coyness at all).
So anyway i loved that, and I hope there's a sequel planned but it stands alone just fine if not, I'm already figuring i'll alternate my rereads and do every other chapter each time, so I can do All The Backstory first, then All The Current Timeline story, and that's such a fun way to eke out many many many rereads of a story that like all of Wells' works I will reread until I have chunks of them memorized (anyone who has read my works surely has found whole undigested bits of hers bobbing around in there because I do this so much; I found the phrase weary past bearing in something of mine the other day and was like oh that's moon when ember first shows up i stole that whole emotion wholesale out of the third raksura book yes i did).
Little side notes: Love the aroace qpr vibes with Kai and Zeide, also sort of enjoy the lowkey genderfuckery that comes with a demon who has his own gender then inhabiting bodies that had different genders. Great magic system too, and I love that we first get introduced to how Kai's pain magic works as a like totally fait accompli chunk of didactic worldbuilding and then in a later chapter we get to see the flashback of him inventing it and understand why it works the way it does, that was also so well-wrapped-up.
Anyway-- Definitely recommend this one but probably it is best if you can do it like I did, in one big binge-read. It took me probably three hours and I was trying hard not to read it too fast.
Yeah. Anyway. People assume I'm a big reader. I was, as a kid. I am not now. This is the first new book I've read since probably the spring sometime. I don't casually read things i only read them if I'm going to add them to my Pantheon of Rereads, and that goes for fic too mostly.
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lintujoki · 7 months
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Silence fell in the musty, dirty corridors of Subterranean-Shunning Grounds. To those who have recently come here, it would seem unusual if they had the strength to experience something other than bone-chilling horror. The whole body were shaking, the heart was like a drum, even for those who were not here for the first time - the feelings experienced by each Omen during the next "raid". The voices of the lepers, often howling in agony and weakness, fell silent. Perhaps their bodies will soften in the drains, not yet picked up by anyone. It's a matter of time, soon the accursed will rise from hiding, and if they don't have time, then the rats will "take care" of the corpses and will eat enough. Both used the dead for the same purpose, but some of the Omens said that it's better to be eaten by their fellows than by rodents. However, when the time comes, it won't matter.
Mohg opened the door, which had begun to decompose from moisture, and looked around warily, craning his neck. There was no one outside, only the blood, which covered the walls and floor in wide splashes, imprinted in the memory of what had happened, as if it was still happening.
"No one" - the child concluded.
- Put something under the door. I think they'll be coming out soon too.
Mohg nodded and placed a beam that had broken off from an unnamed structure between the handles. This would not save them from the attackers, probably Morgott just wished that the room would become a secluded place for the two of them at least for a while and no strangers would disturb the peace.
- Morgott... are you okay? - Mohg could clearly see his brother's anxiety. Worried, he always tried to hide, at least ostensibly, just by pressing himself against the wall, besides, his tail was quivering and fluffed up.
- Did they hurt you? - Mohg continued, sitting down carefully.
When the twins were smaller, they were more successful at hiding from the Omenkillers - they could even hide in a box. With age, it became more difficult - pipes, lower sewer levels are used, which can hardly be called safe, but even meeting with a huge crayfish seemed a better option than with ruthless killers. At least, the first ones don't always attack.
- It's all right - Morgott said in a half-whisper, as if he was still waiting for a trap.
- Don't you need my help? If so, just tell me...
- No, no, please - Morgott closed his lips and grimaced.
Knowing perfectly well what was meant by the words "my help", he didn't want his brother to hurt himself again because of him.
- This is not required now. I'm just... I'm sorry you had to take the risk because of me. At least one of us has to move on, and you know who.
This time, Morgott was unlucky to be caught by the Omenkiller. The feeling of a rough grip on the hair still did not leave, sending nerve impulses. An attempt to hit with a spiked tail turned out to be a failure - they held him tightly and pulled on themselves, as if trying to break his neck, he couldn't even really move.
Perhaps he would have bled to death by now, and his horns would have been chopped off by grotesque weapons made from it, if Mohg hadn't helped. At that moment, his own skin was the least of his worries, and Morgott's words made his chest tighten. What's the point of surviving if he's left alone?
- Stop.
Mohg squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.
- I can't listen to this.
- Forgive me.
Thoughts gnawing at the mind, about how he don't want to be a burden, and that even a deathbed fear would be more merciful than an endless feeling of worthlessness and defenselessness - probably it's all from a lot of anxiety. Not something to depress Mohg who is already forced to bear a huge responsibility.
- I'll figure something out, we'll figure it out. Whatever it takes, I promise you won't stay here. We will be together, happy, I know!
Sometimes Morgott wondered if his twin was convinced of this himself or if he was just comforting. "Happiness for Omens" sounded like something magical. If earlier Morgott liked to dream with his brother about the world they would create together, and, overcoming a painful weakness, painted this fairy tale on the walls of the sewer, now everything seemed like a fantasy. He wanted to believe it, but reality dictated otherwise.
- Morgott... - usually, "my dearest" was added after. Mohg stopped, touching Morgott's cheeks and tousled strands with his fingers.
In response, the twin timidly stretched out his arms and hugged his brother with the tail, silently expressing acceptance and a desire to protect.
Nothing else brought such joy. Flames seemed to light up in Mohg's eyes, and it was getting warmer inside. He looked into twin's eternally sad golden-honey eyes and froze, stroking the skin with his thumbs. Morgott is a true enchantment, the embodiment of the purity and strength of life of their blood ties. "What's the point of being and fighting if I'm left alone?" - It echoed again.
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markantonys · 8 months
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I'm thinking about Rand's ending in the books and I hate both the bodyswap and that he abandons everyone but at the same time I get that his sacrifice has to mean something so the world forgets him/lets him fade into myth. And him actually dying would undermine the entire point of his arc. So I'm curious how you think the show might tackle this? I'm sure there's a few options
i hate it too! but yeah, rand needs to be forgotten by the world at large and needs to get a new face so he won't be recognized, or else he will never know peace. so the way i would do it is have him fade into myth among the general public, but still remain part of his loved ones' lives and they all just keep secret the fact that this guy is rand al'thor. his whole arc is about learning to stop self-isolating and to instead let himself lean on his loved ones for support, so i felt that him ending the series by fucking off into the mist all alone was totally contrary to that and did not make emotional sense as the endpoint of the journey we'd been on with him for 14 books. i can certainly understand if he needs to take a lil sabbatical and have some time to himself in the immediate aftermath, but that should not have been the very final concluding note of his whole arc! for my own sanity i have to imagine he just took a 2-week vacation and then went to caemlyn to be with his family (and told tam, nynaeve, and perrin that he's still alive, and rescued mat from the seanchan and incorporated him into the polycule, and bargained with the creator to bring egwene and gawyn back to life........okay i'm getting sidetracked)
as for what the show might do, i'll brace myself for them to adhere to the book version, but from what we've seen in the first 2 seasons, i think that ending would make even less sense for show!rand than it does for book!rand. in 1x08, we see that his greatest dream is to live a quiet, peaceful life with his family, and now we're going on a journey of watching him be forced to give up that dream for the rest of the series. what better way to end the show than by having rand finally get to live out that dream now that his duty to the world is done? the tears i would weep if the final scene of the show was similar to his 1x08 domestic AU, but real this time! plus, the s1 ending & s2 already did the whole thing of rand fucking off into the mist all alone, making his loved ones think he's dead, and trying to start over in a new town with a new life - AND HE LEARNS THAT THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE because he can't help but get attached to new people wherever he goes AND because he can't keep himself from remaining attached to the people from his old life and wanting to help them when he learns they're in trouble. and it also showed how his loved ones suffer because of him making them think he's dead and took a pretty hard stance in saying "no, no one is better off if rand fakes his death, not rand and not his loved ones." so i especially think rand's book epilogue scene would ring hollow in the show since s2 has specifically proven that that scenario doesn't work.
some people will harp on about happy endings being uNrEaLIsTIc, but i Do Not Give A Shit!!!! and so far the show has also shown that it's not interested in grimdark for grimdark's sake and that, like the books, it doesn't shy away from showing trauma and tragedy and yet still chooses hope & togetherness over cynicism & isolation at the end of the day, and so i think it feels very plausible for the show to give rand a bit more hopeful of an ending. (i guess the books TRIED to give him a hopeful ending what with him thinking happily about how he can travel around by himself and not be recognized, but it just felt false to me that that's the sort of thing that would make rand happy - in large part because show!rand was the first version i ever met, and i subconsciously carried his homebody caregiver stay-at-home dad-ness with me into the books even though he wasn't REALLY like that in the books in the way he is in the show. so that feels like further evidence that book!epilogue wouldn't work for show!rand.)
now as for the bodyswap, that's so tricky to imagine what the show might do. on the one hand, rand cannot fade into anonymity and be allowed to rest and set down his duties if he keeps his same body and will still be recognized wherever he goes. on the other hand, imagining rand's final moments in the whole show being portrayed by some random new actor instead of josha is so freaking sad! sad for us and sad for josha! it's fine in a book where we're in rand's head and can feel that he's still him even though he tells us he looks different, but in a visual medium, spending up to 8 seasons with josha as rand only to have his final moments be portrayed by a completely different person..........the emotions just wouldn't hit the same, it wouldn't feel like a proper sendoff for rand. granted, if moridin's actor had been in the show for several seasons already (and whether they would cast a new actor as moridin or bring fares fares back and just have the character still be called ishamael is another question i can't predict) then we'd be attached to him too by the finale, so maaaaaybe it could still feel emotional, but never as emotional as if it were josha doing that scene.
so i'm stuck here because story-wise it makes more sense for rand to get a new face, but TV-wise it's not sensible to have one of the main characters played by a different actor in their final scene(s). the potential solution to this would be, no bodyswap but have rand disguise his face with an illusion when in public so that he doesn't get recognized as the dragon reborn and get hassled.
so, okay, here's what i would do: rand wakes up in the healing tent still in his original body, but then he disguises himself and leaves the tent. he passes by his own funeral going on and slips away into the night, after exchanging a meaningful look with his partners who can sense that this stranger is him thanks to the bonds. then, cut to a proper epilogue scene of josha-as-rand undisguised in the privacy of his own home, watching his kids play with his partners by his side (and maybe all his friends and tam too if they REALLY feel like spoiling me haha) just like he told us in 1x01 he always dreamed of :')
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kamari2038 · 8 months
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Hey... might be a weird question and I'm sorry for asking out of nowhere....but I kinda wanted to know what your thoughts are on Connor-60. I mean I really like your fics and takes on dbh and I might be remembering wrong but I think I saw a tag on one of your posts saying you liked Sixty too? I really love Sixty so I guess I just got a bit too excited. How exactly do you see his character? Plus, if Hank didn't shoot him, do you think there could have been a happy ending for him? I mean the angst potential with him is pretty great, and I don't really agree with how usually Sixty is seen as "the knife guy". I just wanted to know your thoughts on him, if that's okay! Sorry for rambling ^^'
Oh my goodness, hello! No need for an apology. You read my fics??? That alone just made my day.
Yes, I have a great deal of appreciation for Connor-60. Obviously, he's a bastard (like all of the Connors), but what I love is the irony of this gigantic chasm between the appearance he tries to put forth and what is clearly a tumultuous and deeply conflicted internal world. It's the most obvious in that ending where he shoots Connor about ten times, that he isn't simply trying to accomplish his mission - he HATES Connor. But the fact that he's immediately engaging in a relatively courteous chat with Hank right after, and his obvious frustration when he actually is forced to kill Hank, plus how he defines Connor as a "he" rather than an "it", all point to the fact that he's just as emotional as Connor, only in a messed-up way.
I have a shit ton of headcanon built around Connor-60, and I've outlined a possible fic about it, but the plot is very bizarre and convoluted, probably too much to discuss in a post (but my DMs are open! don't be shy, I'd love to get some feedback on the plot). The basic concept started out simple enough. C-60 is defective because some kind of unusual manufacturing error imbued him with a mental imbalance. When they're testing and training the various Connor models (60 is activated before 51 due to some clerical error), they tell C-60 to try out the gun for some target practice, and he shoots one of his instructors without giving it a second thought. He expresses regret, but everyone at the company concludes that he's a psychopath, and that he can never be fit to go into the field, and instead they keep him around to perform experiments on. So C-60 is their guinea pig for the various deviancy counter-measures put into C-51, and he never has the chance to bond with anyone or actually do the job he was intended to do, and he's really bitter about that. There is one exception, but Connor-51 brings an end to that, and that's a big part of the plot of my potential fic.
Also, as for whether he can have redemption, I believe that he can even within canon. In the scene where Connor sacrifices Hank and then "transfers" with C-60, to me I don't view that as a consciousness transfer per se. I mean, how would that even work? It's more like Connor literally gives his life to C-60. They already share a lot of the same memories, but Connor absorbs C-60's memories of his troubled past, and he fills out C-60's memories of Hank with emotional depth. That's why Connor seems so weirdly dissociated while Hank is dying - it's still C-60. He knows that he just shot this man, but now is very upset about it, and that is a very strange feeling to know how to cope with.
As for in the happy ending, if Hank and Connor somehow incapacitated instead of shooting him - yes, I think he could have a happy ending there too. The way that I think of him, there is a fundamental failure to be able to feel the emotional weight of his actions and experience empathy. So that would be a lifelong struggle for him. But he cares about developing friendships enough to learn how to be more kind, even if it doesn't come naturally, and he can also form telepathic connections with other Connor models which help him to develop empathy.
That's just my personal take, and I'm sure lots of others might have different opinions which are just as valid!
But thank you for asking :)
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twoidiotwriters1 · 10 months
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Daughter of Olympus (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)
A/N: Tough day for bad bitches -Danny Words: 2,097 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter / Next Chapter Listen to: 'Home' -by Catie Turner
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XLII: Local Dumbass Knew What She Was Getting Into and Did It Anyways
The last time she dreams of Percy, Ara just opens her eyes and he's there, sitting cross-legged on his bed. He doesn't speak at first, just studies her with curiosity. 
She knows it's him and not a made-up Percy, someone has allowed them to see each other earlier than expected.
"You look like her..." he tilts his head. "But are you really..?"
Ara sits up on her bed, but she moves carefully, afraid to wake up if she makes the wrong move. "Percy, where are you?"
The boy looks around the room ignoring her question. "This is your place?"
"Our place," she knows Percy got his memories stolen just like Jason, so she starts with the basics. "When your mother adopted me, I asked if I could share a room with you just the first few months, cause I'd never slept alone," she tears up a bit. "Now I sleep alone all the time, here and in camp."
Percy smiles. "You are Ara, my sister, right?"
Percy calls her sister all the time, she was used to it already, but it's been months since they last spoke, months since they saw each other, and yet she is still a sister to him.
"I think someone wants us to talk," Ara continues, trying to keep it together. "Dunno what they want us to say."
"You sound kinda different from what I remember," Percy's eyes brighten. "You've been eating your veggies, Birdy?"
Ara abandons her bed in an instant and Percy hugs her as soon as she reaches him. The contact feels so real it makes her sob. She gasps. "I should kick your ass! You've had us worried!"
"I'm not having a blast out there either, you know?" He scoffs, squeezing her smaller frame tighter against him. "But I'm happy to see you, even if you look different."
She holds his face and looks at it hungrily: he also looks different, his features are sharper and he appears to be stronger now, judging by how she struggles to get out of his grip. "Tyson was close to finding you and then he lost track—"
"It's a long story," Percy cuts in. "But I promise you're close to finding me."
"Don't—"
"I promise," he insists, squeezing her shoulder. "Trust me."
"I always do," Ara pouts. "Don't die, Nemo. Or I'll force Hades to spit you out, just so I can kill you myself."
He laughs. "You got it, General."
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I speak to Kronos's army using my charmspeak. "As the last child of Olympus, I carry the duty of defending it."
I lift the javelin and pray to any god that's listening to help me out, cause I really need to make an impression, and before anyone has enough time to doubt the reasoning of what I've said, I throw my spear at a Hyperborean. 
I watch him fall, then seize my compass and turn it into Almighty. I raise the sword over my head and scream. "FOR OLYMPUS!"
The monsters are pretty frantic, so Pollux has no problem keeping the hallucination going. I charge towards their army and when Chiron concludes Lily and I have no intention to slow down, he decides to distract Kronos.
My plan also works on most of the demigods from the enemy army. I can't blame them, Achilles never spared a soul, so running away is the smartest choice here. 
Pollux's power isn't strong enough to fool the monsters for long though, so they probably see just a blur, and they can't decide whether to run or stay. 
I jump off of Blackjack when we get close enough to the monsters. He rises from the ground with Pollux holding onto him and I land on top of Ethan Nakamura. As soon as I touch him, he screams in realization. "It's a trap!"
An arrow flies over my head, Lily has stopped a dracaena from ripping my head off. I get up and kick Ethan's stomach for good measure. I use my charmspeak again. "Give up!"
If I hadn't been blessed by my mother in advance, my reach wouldn't have gone as far as it does. The monsters closer to me drop their swords, and some get on their knees begging for mercy. Arrows come down flying all around me, evaporating the monsters on the spot. 
I run forward and a monster tackles me, but then a miracle happens:
Nico Di Angelo's arrival is enough to split the crowd. He's wearing black armor that, to be honest, makes him look really cool. He lifts his sword and kills the monster that has me pinned on the ground. 
I thought I'd failed to convince Hades, and even though I hadn't said anything to Lily, I'd assumed he was determined to let us die. I guess I was wrong. "Sorry for the delay," Nico helps me up. "But I know it's never a good idea to steal the spotlight from an Aphrodite."
It's the first time in days that I manage to smile. "Thank you."
"Son of Hades," Kronos sneers at Nico. "Do you love death so much you wish to experience it?"
"Your death," the boy replies, lifting his sword again. "Would be great for me."
"I'm immortal, you fool! I have escaped Tartarus. You have no business here, and no chance to live."
Nico and I share a look and he picks Almighty from the ground, handing it back to me. "You're gonna kill him, or what?" He asks me casually.
Kronos notices me at last. Luke's eyes haven't looked in my direction in so long, that it hits me like a ton of bricks. It's weird 'cause he doesn't look any different, just... worn out.
But I, on the other hand, am a whole other version of myself.
"You," he seethes. "This is the last time you disrespect me."
"Yeah," I adopt a fighting stance. "It is."
The ground quivers under our feet and skeletons spurt out of every crack, seizing monsters without warning. 
"Drop your weapons and retreat!" I yell, Nico, Lily and I move together. "You're done!"
"HOLD YOUR GROUND!" Kronos screams. "The dead are no match for us!"
"The dead are not the ones you should be worried about, old man," Lily says, aiming two arrows in his direction.
Hades shows up riding his spooky chariot. "Hello, Father. You're looking... young."
"Hades," Kronos glares at him. "I hope you and the ladies have come to pledge your allegiance."
"I'm afraid not," The god looks at Lily, Nico, and me. "My son and his friends convinced me that perhaps I should prioritize my list of enemies." His eyes Percy. "As much as I dislike certain upstart demigods, not all of them are deserving of oblivion. It would not do for Olympus to fall. I would miss bickering with my siblings. And if there is one thing we agree on—it is that you were a TERRIBLE father."
Kronos shortens the magical barrier and leaves most of us out, only a small group remains in it, and my brother is one of them. 
"NO!" I run towards it and Hades does too, but we're both pushed away.
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"Are you serious right now?"
"Lily, he knew about Camp Jupiter before any of this happened and he never mentioned it!"
"If Chiron couldn't, what makes you think Nico could?" Lily leaves her dagger on Ara's nightstand and gets up. "His new sister is Roman, right? Perhaps he was afraid to lose his family again if he talked."
"So you're saying I shouldn't tell Annabeth about it?"
"Gods, no! She's having meltdowns left and right! She'll murder Nico! My sister's already way too pressed about the delays, don't freak her out more."
Ara scoffs, obsessively folding and unfolding the clothes she's planning to take on the quest. "I'll murder Nico when I see him—no wonder he never stayed here, he knew Jason would recognize him, that asshole..."
"Hey..." Lily stops her. "You can't be mad at him for wanting to protect his sister..."
"And where is his loyalty to us?" Ara demands grumpily. "He owes us."
Her friend stops her from folding more jeans and shorts. "Are, whenever he visits you're always fighting. You promised Hades he'd be welcomed with open arms—"
"He's the one who continues to act like we're out to get him! If he were nicer—"
"Ara!" Lily stomps her foot in frustration. "You always do this! You push Nico and me into the crowd, telling us it's easy because you have no problem doing it, but it's not fair!"
"You wanna talk fair?" Ara argues. "Nico saw us dying with worry every day for the last six months and said nothing!"
"What could he tell you that Jason hadn't? And being fair, Ara, after you met Leo you left camp like it wasn't important to supervise us anymore, like you'd gotten what you wanted from us so the rest didn't matter."
"I'm sorry?" The girl glares at Lily. "I care about this camp more than you seem to know, Lily. Unlike Nico, who only cares about his reputation!"
"How can you say that after what he did for us during the war?"
"He tried to kill my brother and felt guilty when it didn't work!"
"It wasn't his plan and you know that!"
"I don't wanna go over this again," Ara rolls her eyes and turns away from Lily. "I've got other things to worry about..."
"Like your prophecy?"
Ara freezes. Annabeth must've told Lily about it, so there is no point in asking how she found out. She wonders how long Lily sat with this information, letting it boil until she could spit it out. 
"I was going to tell you," Ara says quietly.
"I doubt it."
"I was going to tell you once I knew what it meant," she clarifies.
Lily starts to leave the room. "You're unbelievable, and I'm done."
"Don't do that!" Ara follows her out. "Why do you have to turn every conversation into a test? Every time I choose wrong, you treat me like I'm still small dumb Ara!"
"Because you keep hiding stuff only to tell us about them at the last second so we have no chance to stop you! You've always been like this, and that's why no one thought you'd be a good leader!"
Ara comes to a halt at the top of the staircase. "Did you?"
"What?" Lily stops midway down the steps.
"Did you think that as well?"
"It doesn't matter," Lily's eyes are cold, like two pieces of sharpened ice. "You move faster than I can think. I struggle to keep up and you don't care if I'm still grieving. Nothing's been enough for you since you became the daughter of Olympus."
"If you could believe in me for just a second, maybe I wouldn't need to do everything on my own."
"I believe in you," Lily's grip tightens on the handrail. "Learn the difference between concern and distrust, Strategus. Whenever you do something foolish is like you don't understand how lucky we are to have—"
"No," Ara replies, anger seeping through her words. "You are lucky to have survived, I worked hard to get here. I earned my place as Olympus's General, don't you dare say I'm here out of mere luck."
Lily looks up at her, eyes darkening. "You used Michael and I to crawl your way up, and you barely made it out," she turns and keeps going, quickly reaching the bottom of the stairs.
Ara stays at the top of the staircase, her chest tight and her head pounding. A girl calls her name downstairs and she immediately rushes down, thinking it's Lily.
She finds Annabeth instead.
"What's wrong?" Ara asks anxiously. "Not another delay?"
Annabeth's eyes are bright and eager. "Get your things. We leave in an hour."
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My parents wake up and start fighting, which is something I never thought I'd see, but they're doing a pretty good job. Kronos runs to the entrance of the Empire State, and I lock eyes with Percy.
Clarisse and Chiron are out of the fight, and Annabeth and Thalia are trapped inside the border with him. I see him fall to the conclusion that I must do the one thing he can't.
"You're in charge," he shouts. "Don't make me regret it!" Before leaving, he tells Mrs. O'Leary to look for Chiron under the debris. 
Lily and Nico stand by my side, weapons ready. "Heard him loud and clear," Lily nudges my arm. "So you better do something."
I nod, taking a deep breath. "Hermes, Hephaestus—Take the mortals to safety!" The campers start pushing the people out of our way. I turn to the demigods that are left. "We end the war today," I lift my sword. "Camp Half-blood!"
Cheers and cries of war respond to my call. I roar a second time. "Praise Hades!"
Lily and Nico echo my cry, and some campers repeat it as they charge against the army of monsters. Nico's dad shines brighter, and he attacks Kronos's barrier with renewed force.
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Next Chapter ->
Taglist.
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sabrgirl · 6 months
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Salam alaikum sabrgirl. I just read your substack post about your chronic illness and fasting and Fajr and it resonated so so deeply with me because I am in a very similar situation, even down to the symptoms you mentioned. Jazakillah khair for being vulnerable and sharing this because it has helped me immensely, and I'm sure others as well. Even the ayah you included which led you to conclude that it would be sinful to fast when sick...I have been feeling so guilty about not fasting and people around me have (maybe unintentionally) made me feel guilty by mentioning other sick people they know who are fasting. I also haven't been waking up for Fajr every day (I have to skip some days) due to the effects of waking up early on my health but I really want to for the rest of Ramadan and your words about how you did it and how it became easier for me gave me a lot of encouragement. May Allah reward you, and grant us both 3aafiyah and shifaa and make our illness a means of expiation and attaining the great reward for patience
wa alaikum salam wa rahmatullah! ♡
jazakallah khair for reading my post and for sending me this message !! 🥹 i honestly never knew the post would resonate with and touch so many people. it makes my heart full knowing that i can make people feel less alone with my words, and the responses also makes me feel less alone too. i grew up reading so much and having people's writing resonate with me, so it makes me so overjoyed now that my writing does the same for others :') alhamdulillah !!!
i understand about feeling guilty. at the beginning of this ramadan, when i was at uni in class or in the library, and there was a muslim nearby, i'd hide my water bottle in my bag or eat secretly, hoping that they wouldn't see and think i'm a bad muslim. it's quite silly now that i think back to it, i quickly told myself that fasting isn't for other people or for show. even if i was able to fast, it would only be for Allah سُبْحَٰنَهُۥ وَتَعَٰلَىٰ's sake. some people who are sick can tolerate fasting, other people can't. not everyone is the same. so, it's easier said than done, but don't listen to other people saying xyz. you know your condition, not them. they're not you. and Allah knows your intentions, condition and heart. and yes, the ayah does conclude that it would be a sin for someone to force themselves to fast if they are unable to, because they are being disobedient. Allah doesn't want you to punish yourself and self harm, which is a sin. if you know you can't fast, your fidya is an expiation, it's a substitute for the fast, He says. you're feeding the poor, just like how fasting is to remember the poor.
may Allah make it easier for you to wake up, Ameen! Allahumma ameen to your kind dua's. keep going, you've got this! you're doing really well. try your very best, no matter what that looks like and Allah will reward you for striving for his sake ♡ sending love.
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chasingpj · 3 years
Text
𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐤
pairing: percy jackson x child of aphrodite! gn reader
requested?: yup!
warnings: mentions of underage drinking, one curse word, and mentions of sexual tension
category: fluff, shy boy x obviously interested girl trope
a/n: don't mind me I'm just projecting and I got carried away
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you’re not sure what gravitated you to percy more
the crystal green eyes, the freckles over his nose, the disheveled dark curls, or his clumsiness
the first time you laid eyes on him, he was walking back to his cabin after sword-fighting practice
his tan skin gleamed in the sunlight as a hand came up to swipe away the damp hair sticking on his forehead
for an action so mundane, it made your stomach flutter like crazy
and then the beauty of the moment was ruined right when he trips over the steps of his cabin
you heard stories of the kid killing the minotaur, blowing up a volcano, and rumors of being the suspected child of a huge prophecy
yet, he was not immune from tripping over his feet
and you’re sure the dorky charm of that moment made you think, he’s mine
for the next few days, you were determined to approach him
but you didn’t just want to come up to him and introduce yourself; that would be too plain and forgettable
you ended up finding your opportunity during a capture the flag game
silena gave you instructions to distract percy, and you headed over strong, ready to make your first impression while also taking him down for your team
sure, he had water powers and done a bunch of cool things, but your father made sure you were well trained in sword fighting and martial arts even before you knew about the camp
you planned to take him by surprise, and luckily it worked
with ruthless attacks, it didn’t take long for you to sweep him off his feet and knock his sword out of his hand
by pressing the flat of your sword under his chin, you forced him to look up at you, and you peered into those clear green eyes
gods, he’s cute, you thought
“hey,” you said
percy was stunned, not sure if it was because you effortlessly took him down or if it was because you were one of the prettiest girls he’s ever seen
“... hi,” he sputtered, gawking for a moment as you offered your hand
you swore you felt sparks when his fingers brush across your palm... even though the contact was a little sweaty
in the distance, you heard the satyrs blow the horn and the roars of celebration from your team
“i should go back to the others. catch you later, ocean eyes,” you flirted
percy’s shoulders tensed up when you blew him a kiss; awkwardly frozen in his place as you waited
“well, are you going to catch it? you can’t just let my kiss fly away.”
percy shifted on his feet, not sure if you were serious or not, but when you held your ground with arms folded over your chest, it was clear that’s what you were waiting for
and so with a flushed face, percy awkwardly grabbed the air in the front of him, and you couldn’t help but giggle
“good, i wouldn’t want it flying to a stranger,” you commented playfully. “you know, i don’t really like this whole outdoor camp life thing, but seeing your pretty face around here makes it a lot better”
“uh… oh, thanks?” he stammered, not having the words to respond
you winked at him before walking off, more than satisfied with your first impression
after that, you were contemplating your next move
children of aphrodite can see all the possibilities in a potential relationship
you were able to see you and percy eating ice cream in central park, holding hands at camp, a shy kiss on your first date
you wanted all of it, and you going to make sure you get it
of course, silena and your siblings were your wing women
if percy was in the strawberry fields, you were picking strawberries beside him
in the fields, you got to know him and his sarcastic humor, which made your crush flourish
you even took sword fighting classes at the same time as him and made sure he was your partner most of the time
whenever you had a chance, you’d affectionately fix his hair or his armor just to hear his shy thank you’s
he’s never had a girl show this much interest in him, so you definitely made him a little nervous, but despite that, he opened up to you pretty quick
sometimes he’d help you out in the stables, and you noticed how he’d fumble with the harnesses or knock things over when you would flirt with him
you loved his reactions so much that you always took it up a notch just to see how he’d react
you suppose the pegasi didn’t make percy’s shyness any better
there were times where he’d shush them, or the tips of his ears would grow even more flushed at a neigh or huff from one of the pegasuses
as the summer came to an end, you gave percy your email and made sure you stayed in touch
you didn’t live very far from one another, but you didn’t dare ask to hangout
you wanted to be asked first!
and you were disappointed when the invitation never came despite the two of you being consistent with sending emails
the year flew by fast, though, and you were excited to return to camp for an array of reasons; percy being one of those reasons, of course
when you saw him for the first time that summer, you were in awe at how different he looked after a year
he was taller, broader, and just more handsome overall
your stomach went into a frenzy when he greeted you with a boyish smile while his hand rubbed the back of his neck nervously because he didn’t fail to notice how, somehow, you were even prettier than he remembered
unfortunately, having the prepare for the war meant you guys were too busy to hang out as often as you did the previous summer
but when you did have time to see each other, it was still fun
there was an unspoken rule between you and percy that any talk about the war wasn’t allowed
it allowed you guys to just bask in the nights where you would watch the sunset while joking around and sharing funny stories
those nights were calm and still; they brought a sense of normalcy amongst the chaos and growing tensions
because of this, percy had sought out your company whenever he could get it
being with you made him feel like time slowed down
inevitably, the battle of manhattan occurred and passed, causing the summer to end with the grief of losing your siblings
while campers arranged the ceremonies to honor their siblings, percy hopped around to help
losing silena as a counselor meant it was time to pick a new one, and to your surprise, your siblings nominated you
you were silena’s right-hand person, the oldest in the group after her, and the strongest fighter, so your siblings felt it was fair that you took the role
but it didn’t feel right to you; the pressure of being a newly elected councilor while still grieving silena weighed hard on your shoulders
after the nomination, you needed time to get away and sit with your thoughts, and you were only there for a moment alone until percy had found you
his eyes studied your somber expression, and he was quick to ask what was wrong
as you poured out all your worries, percy was quiet and attentive
you cuddled up to his side for comfort, and even in your sorrow, you didn’t fail to notice the way he tensed up
finally, when you let everything out, he chimed in to soothe your worries
your expression was a little lovestruck as he said everything you needed to hear, and well, his strong arm around your shoulders definitely helped too
you were so elated that you couldn't help but press a kiss on his cheek to thank him
his flushed face was enough to lift your spirits for good that day
by the time the summer officially came to an end, you could feel that percy’s feelings for you were becoming stronger
the romantic possibilities you envisioned became more apparent, but percy hadn’t asked you out yet
and like, you guessed you could have asked him out, but that wasn't fair in your book
you were already making the first moves; it was his turn to do something about it
then you were sure your mother pitied you because finally, after a few more months of emailing, percy asked if you to go ice skating with him, and of course, you agreed
but then, you concluded that it was more like a cruel joke from your mom because percy never showed up
you waited hours for him before you trudged home in defeat
heartbroken wasn’t even enough to describe how you were feeling
being stood up with no follow up from him made you conclude that he just wasn’t interested and you just needed to move on
it wasn’t until you went to CHB for christmas break did you find out percy was missing
you were crazy worried about him and helped as much as you could to try and find him
when it was confirmed that he was still alive, you were more than relieved
from that day on, you were itching to see him again, and finally, after the giant war, you were able to speak to him
you only said a hello before you got sucked into a game of truth or dare with your friends
the game was self-explanatory; spin the bottle and the person who’s chosen is submissive to the person who spun it
you made up some lousy dares for the first few people until you spun the bottle in percy’s direction
“truth or dare?” your voice was challenging, and a little flirty
percy shifts in his place, “truth.”
“do you want to kiss me?”
“dare.”
“kiss me.”
the instigating coos of your friends made you smile, which contrasted percy’s stunned expression
“never have i ever-”
“that’s not even the game, percy!”
your friends laughed at your interaction, but you were honestly a little annoyed
he liked you; you could feel it, so what was he even waiting for?
“it’s fine. you don’t have to kiss me if you don’t want to,” you say with a playful smile in an attempt to hide your disappointment
“shit, i’d kiss you,” leo joked, and you suddenly perked up at the request
a new idea came to your mind
“so kiss me,” you snapped your gaze to leo, a smirk on your face
leo gasped so hard; he choked on his own saliva
while he coughed erratically, showcasing all his shock on his face, you announced, “new rule! you can only give up a dare if someone else in the group offers to take it for you.”
your gaze fixed on leo, “so, are you going to kiss me or what?”
“uh, only if you want to,” he stammered, and you smiled, moving to lean over in his direction
suddenly, percy cut in, “i didn’t give up the dare.”
your attention shifted to him, and you didn’t fail to pick up the jealousy radiating off of him
your stomach flipped with anticipation at the success of your idea
if percy needed a push, you were going to push him
“you’ve given leo false hope then,” you joked, and playfully leo sighed.
“man, so close,” he mumbled.
you bit your lip as you leaned in percy’s direction
you felt his attraction to you; his eyes told you everything you needed to know and more
and before you knew it, your lips were against his
the kiss was short, but for a moment, the world around you was drowned out; you barely heard the coos and cheers of your friends around you
with a satisfied smirk, you pulled away, settling back in your spot as percy’s eyes averted elsewhere, too shy to look at you
you and your friends played the game until you grew bored and found something else to do
because the festivities kept pulling you in one direction to another, the only interaction you had with percy was the occasional longing glance and nothing else
as you escorted a few of your sisters who drank a little too much back to your cabin, you were sure you’d have to wait another day to talk to him
lost in your dismay, you automatically denied piper’s offer to finish the task
it wasn’t until she scoffed did you pull out of your thoughts
“are you kidding? go. i’ll get them back. you find percy.”
“oh yeah. you guys need to do something about that sexual tension. are you gonna date him or what?” another one of your sisters slurred
before you could even protest, you were shooed away by not only piper but by the rest of your siblings too
you stayed in your spot, making sure they had at least made it to the steps of the cabin before you pranced up to percy’s cabin
you figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask if he wanted to go on a walk with you
your knock is followed by a few moments of shuffling before he opened the door
and, whew, you were pleasantly surprised to be greeted by a shirtless percy
“hey." you leaned on the door frame, your eyes trailing down to admire his toned torso
“eyes up here," percy playfully demanded
you were almost hesitant to avert your eyes, but you obliged.
"i wanted to ask if you wanted to take a walk. you know, i just haven’t been sleeping well."
percy leaned against the door frame, amused at the dramatic pout on your face.
“sure, let me put on a shirt firs-”
“oh, you don’t have to. i don’t mind,” you cut him off, and his head tilts back just a little as he laughs
“i’m putting on a shirt,” he declares playfully, and you whine in fake disappointment
on your walk, he told you all the crazy things that happened while he was missing, and even though his stories were a lot more interesting than what you had to say, he was eager to hear about what you've been up to
your conversation persisted as you walked around the camp and as you arrived at the docks, another idea came to mind
suddenly, you cut yourself off mid-sentence, your gaze fixed on the water
“perce, you know, i can’t swim,” you mention, stepping on the wooden dock
“really?”
“really.”
it was quiet for a moment, and percy's expression was laced with confusion as you kicked off your shoes
you didn’t even care that you were wearing designer clothes, running straight off the dock and into the deep lake water
you heard percy yell your name right as your body completely submerges in the water
and it wasn't even more than 3 seconds before percy jumped in, one arm immediately wrapping around your waist to swim up to the surface with you
his baffled expression sent you into a fit of laughter
“what? why did you do that?!”
“cause i knew you’d come and get me.”
percy’s lips curved up into a smile, and you took the time to admire his features in the moonlight
you swore you saw his eyes flicker to your lips for a second, and the action made you hyper-aware of how close your noses were
"kiss me!" you thought in your head as you circled your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer
you could feel his admiration, the accelerated thump of his heart, the fluttering in his stomach that mimicked yours
the kiss you shared earlier was far too short for your liking, and you were already looking forward to the next opportunity to kiss him again
“i haven’t forgotten that i owe you a date.”
you smiled at his words, half-distracted at the proximity of his lips
“so it was a date all along?” you asked, and percy nods, amused
“you know, i was thinking now that there isn’t another big prophecy and the chances of me disappearing again aren’t likely, that, maybe, you and i could-”
“yes! gods, yes.” you cut him off, and percy laughs at your eagerness
you waited too long for the question that you couldn’t even let him finish asking
he isn’t able to say anything else as you pull him into a passionate kiss
it was as if the years of anticipation were being poured into the movement of your mouths
the kiss was long, growing in eagerness until the harpies had ruined your fun and the two of you had to run back to your cabins
a part of you had wished that all of this would have happened sooner
you had plenty of nights where you were stared at the ceiling with conflicted thoughts, wondering if you guys just weren't meant to be, if you somehow made up his attraction to you in your head, or if you should ask him out first and save yourself the potential regret
but when you returned to your cabin full of enthusiastic siblings asking why you were soaking wet and why your lipstick was smudged, you realized you wouldn’t have changed a single thing
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catzula · 3 years
Text
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So, you chose the indigo tent?
Welcome to Shinsou's route on something wicked this way comes. I hope you enjoy.
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a/n: so, here goes nothing. I'm really excited for this and I really hope you like it! Leave me a like, a reblog or a comment if you enjoyed it 😗
a big thank you to @qawaii for beta reading because you are the only person I can send this to beta and not die of embarrassment. Also thank you love for always motivating me and hyping me I love you muah.
Warnings: NSFW! Minors do not interact! Smut. 7.4k of pwp. Degrading, blow job, orgasm denial (once), hair pulling, slight choking, calling good girl, enemies to lovers kinda vibe, idk what else
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Everyone has their low points of life. This night must be yours, you think.
You're tired- exhausted and on the brink of possibly passing out, even; hungry, frustrated, cold, and shivering, and everything seems to be going wrong.
Standing on the hill before the tents, you try to focus on why you're here. Never to feel like this again, of course, but it's hard to push yourself to take one more step at this point.
You have to find Aizawa; you repeat yourself. Find him, convince him to take you in so you won't ever feel this hopeless, so you won't ever think if you can survive sleeping in a night as cold as this. You can't go back, won't go back to that place you once called home. You're determined to find a new home or never belong anywhere again.
There is a dull pain on your fingers, feeling like they're frozen and burning. You know you gave to find somewhere warm to at least wear the exhaustion off of you, regain movement in your fingers and feel like you won't pass out any second.
You'd rather sleep, but you're more than aware how dangerous that could be, so you'd have to yield to a stop break, instead. As the thought seeps into your mind, your brain doesn't even give you the chance to rethink; quick to come up with more reasons for why you should rest first, then find Aizawa.
It's the sweet hope of finding warmth that pulls you closer to the tents. You know it's mad to even think of going in any of them, straight into the territory of people that are freaks, people with quirks that makes you an easy bait for them to kill.
But exhaustion has that kind of an effect on people, and even the worst ideas seem bright at the time, mind foggy, unable to give you a reasonable answer when you ask yourself what's the worst that could happen.
You won't be staying for long, anyway, if anyone finds you, you'll flee- you're smart, not so strong but quick, you can run, right?
Your eyes scan the tents to see which one you can go in and out of without being noticed, and you're quick to eliminate the red and black ones.
The red tent has torches all over, so there's no way you can try and sneak in. And the black tent- well, you don't have a good feeling about it.
The tent closest to you has heavy-looking, dark blue curtains, but when you look closer, you can see the light coming from there, too. Your body getting heavier and heavier by the second, and you're pouting as your eyes fall on the indigo, purple tent. A few careful steps taken closer, you confirm there isn't light coming from inside.
As you come even closer, so close that the heavy, velvet-like material of the tent brushes your naked arms, making goosebumps run down your body. You wait for a few seconds for a sound, anything that indicates there is someone there, but after a few minutes of waiting, you conclude there isn't.
You're reluctant but quick to slip through the curtains, staying close to the exit so you can flee without having to face anyone.
It doesn't take long for your eyes to adjust in the darker room, and you're careful as you scan the room step by step.
It's not massive, but the area still seems bigger than any tent you've seen. It's almost twice your room- your old room.
Head pounding with exhaustion creeping in, you find a hiding place behind a cupboard in the corner. Your body acts before you, slipping in the small opening with ease. It's an advantageous hiding place , giving you the chance to spy on the entrance without blatantly sticking out.
As you wait for someone to come in, for something to happen in this dead of the night, your body starts feeling the signs of exhaustion even worse than before, with finding a warm place and somewhere to sit, adrenaline slowly leaving your body.
And before you know it, you're asleep.
~
You only after realize that you hadn't thought this through.
You wake up by the dim, reflected light of a candle- you're lucky you're a light sleeper, or you wouldn't have woken up to someone entering the tent.
The silhouette of a man dances on the floor, crouching down as he holds the candle in one hand and busies the other with the pile of clothes. Not sure when he entered the tent, it seems he's not yet aware of your presence, and you know you have to get out before he does.
Noticing his back is turned to you, you finally gather the courage to peep your head from where you sit. A purple head of hair is what you first notice, his ltousled ocks sticking in every direction as if he faced a thunderstorm.
He's reaching towards the pile of clothes, eyes half open as a look of exhaustion challenging yours lingers on his face.
As you stretch your head a little more from the corner you're hiding in, you finally see something hiding between the pile of clothes. It's a cat, you realize. The man's hand runs over the black fur; it makes the cat close his eyes and lean to the touch as he continues to pat its head, scratching under its ears.
You're not aware how intensely you're watching him, wide eyes following his movements, how his odd hair color catches the dim candlelight on itself, soft shadows dancing on the sharp, handsome features of his face.
You know you have to run, get out of here before he notices you, but it's like you're in a faze, curiosity boiling in your body.
It's a scene to behold, the pair of a mad-looking man and a black cat relishing in each others' presence as you gasp and retract back when the cat suddenly opens its eyes, golden gaze looking directly at you.
Your heart drumming in your ears as you sink more into the corner you're in, you miss how the candle he's holding flickers and the way his head tilts your way so slightly.
For a few minutes, nothing happens. You're too afraid to breathe, let alone reach back out to see what the man's doing. It's silent other than your booming heart, and despite knowing you have to get out of there- now, you can't do anything but wait.
"Aren't you cold?" The voice breaks the silence in the tent, a deep grumble that turns your stomach upside down. You think you recognize it; you've heard it earlier today, quickly depicting who he is; the man with the black, beak-like mask who was doing the hypnosis tricks.
"Does anyone want to volunteer for this trick?" He had asked many times that night. "If yes, cheer for me so I can see who does."
It's an automatic response; to cheer with the whistling and clapping crowd, and you hadn't noticed the self-satisfied smile he hid behind the mask at getting a reply from everyone watching him.
"I'm talking to the cat, not to the person hiding behind the cupboard, by the way." The man speaks again, a sarcastic comment that comes out of his lips so indifferently, and it shows how unfazed he is even by having another presence hiding in his tent.
Even the thought of it is chilling, but you don't give yourself the time to ponder about it, now that your cover is blown, leaping towards the exit. You're fast and agile, and Shinsou thinks you would've escaped if you were in the presence of anyone else.
But you aren't, and you soon come to realize that as well.
As you push the velvet curtains and the cold air hits your face, you're sure you've escaped since the man hasn't moved from where he stood. Still, not taking a second more, you're about to disappear into the night.
But instead of running after you, you hear him speak.
"Stop," It's a simple command that would've made you scoff any other time. Does this man really think you would-
stop.
Just in the border of the night and the tent, you suddenly lose the ability to control your body.
You freeze, despite your mind screaming at you to get out of there; you're not able to move an inch as you watch the man as he walks towards you, painfully slow, too.
As he stops before you, you're forced to realize just how bigger he is than you. Crazy locks of hair defy gravity, looking deep blue instead of the purple you had seen in his show.
He looks mean as he stands before you, eyes locked on you. Dangerous, even.
Stuck in a body you can't charge, you have to wait as his eyes scan you with a frown on his lips, the only emotion available on his face being a silent surprise and tiredness. Even with the situation you're in, you can't help but notice he's even more handsome up close. Secretly admiring his dark indigo eyes looking at you with suspicion, the circles under his eyes giving him an even more stern look, lips pressed into a line, high cheekbones shadowing his cheeks.
"Speak." He commands once again, and you fear if you had control of your body, you might've shivered at his tone.
"Wh-what did you do to me?!" It's your first reaction to regaining control; it makes the purple-haired man scoff. He leans a little closer to you, the ends of his locks close to grazing your face, but not quite, inspecting you with a scorning look and a mean frown. He's the source of the tinge of lavender smell in the room, you realize. That and something a little more... musky.
Despite having the control to speak, you're silent as he judges you, and you swear the corner of his lips quirk at that, too. "You were at the show today, weren't you? I think you can guess what's happening."
"You- you hypnotized me!" You shout, terrified. When he hears the accusing tone of your voice, the man quirks a brow at you.
"You broke into my tent." He mocks you with a smile, looking you up and down. "Aren't you cold?" He repeats. "Come in."
Your body obeys the commend, following the man back into the tent you just escaped, your body once again meeting the lavender-tinted warm air. You stand in the middle of the room as you watch him plop himself on a seat, legs wide open, almost invitingly so, his lips curved into a smile as his gaze keeps wandering on you.
You're unable to help it when your gaze starts shifting on his form, too, especially with the way he's looking at you now; you're not sure if it's the harsh shadows on his face that makes him look so irresistible, with that knowing smirk when he catches your eyes flicking lower than they should. When he quirks a brow at you, with eyes that almost tell you; I know what you're thinking, it suddenly feels a little too warm.
A hum vibrates in the air before he speaks again. "Tell me, pretty girl," he says, "why were you in my tent?"
As soon as you hear the command, you brace yourself to blurt out the whole truth, but- you don't. Questioning eyes finding him; he shrugs. "I'm not going to force it out of you."
He looks so smug with the way he says it, too, making you scoff with narrowed eyes. "Oh, how generous of you."
He ignores the mocking tone of your voice, the only indication he even heard them being the slight tilt of his lips. "If I knew you wouldn't flee the moment I let you go, too, you wouldn't be in this situation, either."
"Is that so?" You mutter, seemingly disinterested. "I will, though."
Your words seem to amuse him, the way you resist him, despite being entirely under his mercy, acting like he has no power over you.
So he smiles; it's deceptive, dark, exciting. It makes the air shift into something new; something that feels thicker, hotter, lustful.
He seems indifferent, however, and you hope he's blind to how your body reacts, as well, to when he sighs, hands running through his tangled, odd-colored locks.
"Why are you still keeping me here, anyway?" You blurt out, wanting to get out of here before you do something... mad.
"I'm curious." He answers the question, a smile resting on his plush lips as he shrugs. "Why were you in my tent?"
Eye for an eye, you think as he counters you with his question. He had answered yours, and it was only fair if you did the same. "I was cold," you tell him, staying as vague as possible. "Your tent seemed warm."
"That's it?" His brows arch up. "The rest isn't any of your business."
"I'm curious."
"I don't even know your name!" You huff angrily. "All I know is you're a guy who works in a circus with powers that leave me a puppet in your hands. I'm not here to entertain you."
As you blurt the last sentence, you don't miss his dark chuckle at it. "We'll see about that," he mutters, but before giving you the chance to speak, he speaks again. "My name's Shinsou. Feeling better?"
"Much." You mock him with an exaggerated smile, voice hostile. "Now will you let me go?"
"Why would I?" He laughs. "You still haven't answered my questions, and haven't you heard it's only courtesy to tell your own name when someone tells you theirs?"
"And haven't you heard it's being a basic human fucking being not to keep people under your influence like this?"
A beat of silence passes as he ponders on an answer and fails, and both of you know he lost this round. "Kitty's got claws, I see." He swipes his tongue on his bottom lip, amusedly watching your reaction at the pet name. You sneer at him- but Shinsou's a little too interested in this to miss the way you shift in your place, your quickening breaths, the flutter of your eyes.
"Don't call me that."
"Why? Got you excited?" Shinsou quirks a brow when you squeak angrily. "You won't even tell me your name."
You would've rolled your eyes if you could, instead just sighing at the purple-haired man. "It's Y/N." You answer. "My Name's Y/N."
It's been a while since Shinsou had this much fun; he missed this game of cat and mouse.
"Very well then, Y/N," he repeats your name as suggestive as possible, "would you answer my question? I can force the answer out of you, you know." He looks amused as he leans forward in his chair, suddenly much more interested in what you say, how you move. Like a predator watching its prey. "All it takes is a command."
Each word makes its way out of his lips so smoothly- you shiver at the way he speaks them. And you're disappointed when you realize not with fear.
It was a lost game the moment you even felt a tinge of lust towards the man, but you doubt there is anyone who can resist his charm. Still, you refuse to play into his hand, choosing to fight submitting to him just like that.
"With your witchcraft or whatever it is, yes." You shoot back, "but you can never control me without it." You feel needles of excitement run over your skin.
"Hm?" He quirks a brow, a feline cat on his lips, making you shiver with the lust settling on his gaze. Your eyes follow the movement of his adam's apple when he gulps. "You think I can't make you do as I say without my powers?" His voice drops an octave, and it almost makes you gasp.
"I know you can't." You sneer. "I would never let you."
"Big words from a little girl. Are you challenging me?"
"And what if I am?"
"Well," Shinsou slides his tongue over his lip, your gaze follows the movement. "you'll have to prove it to me."
As he speaks the words, the heaviness that had consumed your body disappears, as well. Your eyes shoot up- only meeting his mocking indigo gaze. You don't need him to tell you what to do, as one glance is enough for you to see how his pants seem a little strained over his crotch, a print making itself visible.
"What?" He asks, a grin resting on his lips as you stay still. His voice is deep, a guttural, almost tired tone that has you shivering with each way he speaks his words. "All bark, no bite? I thought you were up for a challenge- oh." You effectively shut him up when you settle before the man in one quick motion, relishing in the way his eyes widen, a content, almost excited grin consuming his face.
"You were saying something?" You purr innocently, as if you're not kneeling between his legs, licking your lips and giving him a glance from beneath your lashes.
"Nothing," Shinsou huffs out a laugh, settling in his chair to give you better access. "Do go on."
His dick is even more prominent now, you notice, a wicked smile settling on your lips. You lift your hand to trace his cock, touch ghosting him from over the material of his pants. He's semi-hard beneath your fingers, but even then, you have to muffle a gasp at just how big he is. Unfortunately, he seems to notice the widening of your eyes and your gulp.
He leans forward to tease you, but you don't give him a chance. His eyes flutter close when your hand finally takes him in your hold. "Shit-" Shinsou curses, his tongue darts out to wet his lips as you palm him over the material of his pants, not fast nor hard enough to satisfy him but to keep him tittering on edge. "You fucking tease." He sounds out of breath, but somehow manages to open his eyes to give you a dark look.
"Can't wait to fuck it out of you."
Shinsou waits, endures your torture until you yourself can't, growing impatient to feel him in your mouth.
His chuckle sinister as he aids you while your fingers work his pants off, leaving you face to face with his now hard cock, a small patch of wetness painting his briefs a darker color.
"Look what you did to me," Shinsou heaves, forcing himself to keep his indigo eyes open and on you. "making me hard without even taking me in your mouth."
You bite your lip as your hands slip beneath his boxers, feeling him hot and pulsing under your touch for the first time. You both groan at the sensation.
As you finally push his briefs down, you first see a tuff of deep-purple hair, his cock red and angry. "Ah, fuck." He curses at the contact with the cold air, his head lolling and falling back slightly.
"If it's too much-" he breathes before you can move any further, "tap my thigh twice, or yell bandaid." He only lets you go on when you nod, making sure you understood what he said.
Without waiting any longer, you take him in your hand, and it only makes you realize he's even bigger than you originally had thought. You try to hide your doubts on if you're even going to be able to fit him in your mouth, but he realizes anyway. "What?" Shinsou mutters breathily, "scared?"
You don't answer him, leaning forward to take the sensitive tip between your mouth, instead. The bitter taste of precum has a tinge of sweetness to it, and you don't even realize you start suckling on it a bit harder to get more of the taste.
"Oh- fucking hell." He runs his hands through his hair with a loud groan, a borderline moan, when you suck particularly hard, twirling your tongue around his sensitive head. The sound makes its way straight down to your core.
Your other hand comes up to cup his balls as you let go of his angry red tip, tracing his cock to the base with kisses planted along his shaft. "Ah- fuck, fuck, fuck!" Shinsou groans when you massage his balls softly, leaving kisses on the base, your other hand pumping him slower than he wants it.
"Stop fucking teasing." He growls, voice breathy and shallow. "Or are you afraid -ah- you can't take it all?"
The smug grin he has, despite your best efforts to wipe it off has you fuming. You know he only says it to rile you up, but it works. "Shut up." You spit at the handsome man, not even missing a beat or trying to ease him in as you start pushing yourself on his length. It's pure spite, he knows it too, but it only makes it more fun for Shinsou.
You underestimated him.
You open your mouth as much as you can, jaw aching almost immediately with the pressure, but you try to discard the feeling, focused on having as much of him in your mouth.
"Ah fuck!" He groans out loudly, hips twitching, a thrust in your welcoming mouth before he can catch himself. "Good fuckin' girl," Shinsou breathes, his hand flying to your head as support, pushing you even further down. You almost miss the subtle whiny moan he lets out when you gag loudly around him. The head of his cock hitting the back of your throat as Shinsou keeps pushing you down on his cock mindlessly, your heart drums in your ears, jaw aching, breaths shallow and insufficient.
"Look at you- oh, look at you." Shinsou mutters between his ragged breaths. "Such an obedient little girl, so pretty, so eager-" his warm cock thrusts deeper in your mouth and makes you gag once again, tears that had welled in your eyes before now spilling down your cheeks. Shinsou's half-lidded gaze falls on you, face wet with drool, tears, and his precum, and you feel his cock twitch along with a groan, "-so eager to please me."
You wish- you wish you could protest, say he's wrong, that you don't care the slightest bit about how he feels, but you can't. And not because of his cock stuffing your mouth, either.
Instead, you feel the blood starting to rush downwards, straight to your pussy, making you soil your panties with how he spits out each syllable.
Shinsou's aware of this, too, how effective his words are. His head falls back, weak to the pleasure you're giving him, moaning and gagging around his length as he thrusts faster into you. The dull pain in your skull feels so good, the ache of your throat, his cock hot and heavy on your tongue-
"You're- you're getting off on this, huh?" Shinsou tightens his grip on your hair. "You like it when I call you a good girl? You like it when I use you as a fuck hole?"
You try to lie, shake your head no, but he doesn't give you a chance, no room to move your head with how tight his hold is. With one thrust exceptionally deep, Shinsou laughs almost cruelly as he speaks. "Of course, you do. You're sucking me so fucking well; it's impossible you don't."
"Good girl- good fucking girl, I bet you're soaking in your panties, too, huh? What a little slut. I thought you weren't going to give in? I thought you said I couldn't control you?"
"Fuck you." You spit out when you pull away from his cock, but he doesn't seem pleased by it. "Don't speak with your mouth full, darling." Shinsou growls, his hand cupping your jaw and forcing your eyes to meet his, fingers digging deep into the soft of your skin. "Didn't anyone teach my baby any manners? Or are you just too dumb to learn?"
You open your mouth to say something, but before you can even utter a word, his long fingers force their way through your lips; whatever you were going to say stays as a muffled moan.
"You know, from the moment I saw you all I thought about as you talked and talked and talked was how I wanted to put that big mouth of yours into good use."
In all honesty- it was all you thought about as well.
With seeing the glint in your eyes, Shinsou huffs out a laugh. "Oh, look at my pretty little slut." He forces his fingers even deeper, making you gag. "You think I don't know what you're thinking? You think I don't know how much you want my cock in your mouth? Such a whore, hiding in my tent. You did this on purpose, didn't you? Came here to get fucked like a bitch in heat by one of us freaks?"
The last words are but a haze to you since by then; he's already pushing himself back and forth past your abused lips, moaning at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth, without giving you the time to think, to breathe, to accustom. Shinsou holds a ruthless pace, gripping your head fest by the hair as he groans and moans, making you squirm under him. "Good girl- ah, fuck, such a good girl, suck my cock just like that- ah!"
"Fuck- I'm coming." You almost don't hear him, only raise your gaze to his half-lidded eyes and feel his cock twitch between your lips. "I'm coming- ah- shit, shit shit!"
Your moans get louder as his thrusts get sloppier, and you feel his whole body tremble at your voice. "I'm gonna- fuck!" Shinsou finally feels himself falling over the edge he's been dancing on, his hot cum shooting down your aching, abused throat, moaning when he notices how eagerly you swallow his cum.
His body falls limp back on the seat, chest heaving with deep, heavy breaths. There is a sheen layer of sweat covering Shinsou's body, making the muscles of his body shine under the dim candlelight.
All you hear in the quiet tent is his deep breaths, his head resting back, eyes closed, and he seems exhausted. A few minutes pass for him to pull himself together, opening his eyes to look at you, and- fuck he's hard again.
"Are you okay?" You shake your head, suppressing a smile at his now even messier-looking hair.
"Are you okay?" You ask smugly, coughing once because of the ache. "Thought you were gonna- hey!" You squeak as he jumps on his feet, and in a moment, you find yourself swept off the floor and in his arms. "I see you still have words to speak." Shinsou laughs, his face so close to yours, you feel his breath fanning against your ear, and he feels you tremble between his arms. He quirks a brow at your surprised reaction. You hadn't expected him to be able to continue, truth be told.
"What?" He continues, "I thought I made myself clear when I said I'd fuck it out of you."
You try to keep your last bit of resistance in you by speaking, "I'd like to see you try." But both of you seem aware you've already lost.
"Oh, I'm sure you do." Shinsou gives you a look before placing- throwing you on the unmade bed, eliciting a loud gasp from you. The dim candlelight hits his naked form in a way that has you rubbing your legs in anticipation. He isn't bulky but well-built and muscular, enough to toss you around with ease, enough to have your mouth watering at the thought of running your fingers over his well-defined muscles.
His gaze predatory, Shinsou looks dissatisfied eyeing you. "Strip." He orders, a knowing smile finding its way on his lips as you realize he won't use his powers but knows you'll obey his command like a good girl.
And you do, too. Maybe it's the anticipation or the uncanny glint in Shinsou's eyes that get to your head, but thoughts of defiance are thrown out of the window as you're shrugging off your clothes without giving it a second thought.
"That's it." He grins, his index finger just barely ghosting over your thigh, and he relishes how you squirm because of it. "Look how good you can be for me."
"Such a pretty girl," his hand continues circling your bare legs, getting dangerously close to where you need him the most, but never quite giving it. "My pretty girl." You feel him smile on your skin, littering it with kisses and bites as his fingers ghost over your pussy.. "A shame she has that bratty streak, though."
Shinsou clicks his tongue, suddenly pulling his hand back away, suppressing a smile at your needy whine. It's the kind of sound that's pushing him closer to ruining you by the second.
"No, no, baby, don't cry." You feel his hand cup your face, pads of his fingers tracing your face. His thumb grazes your lips, tracing the outline and pushing in, the sudden intrusion making you moan around it. "I'm here to help you with that."
Help you, he does. You feel his finger graze your clit, circling it just barely but even that slightest contact has you gasping for more after spending that long focused on him.
"Look at you," Shinsou tuts disappointedly, "just barely touched you, and you're soaking wet. Did you enjoy sucking me that much? Did you like how my dick tastes so much that it turned you on?"
"I-" you try to gather your thoughts, but he silences you by pushing one of his fingers in your pussy, his fingers long and slim, such pretty hands he has, his pale skin glistening with your wetness. "What was that?"
"P-please," you beg pathetically as all his motions still abruptly, eyes turning steal as he leans so close that you think your noses might touch. His other hand latches on your hair when your head lolls back down, his grip forcing you to keep your eyes on his indigo ones. The dull pain in your scalp goes straight to your core, and Shinsou can tell by how you clench around his finger.
"That isn't an answer to my question, Y/N." Your name rolls of his tongue so cold, so distant, you find yourself whining at it.
"Y-yes!" You exclaim, hips moving and grinding against his hand to find more friction with yet another cry, "I did- I did, so please!"
Shinsou has to admit.
Having you look at him with wide, watering eyes, face contorted in need of pleasure, your lips trembling as a form of begging- he doesn't think he can hold off much longer.
You feel so tight, even with just a finger, so warm and welcoming that he might be going crazy. Your mouth falls slack; eyes squeezed closed as you focus on the pleasure, silent other than shallow, desperate breathes.
"That's a good girl." Shinsou approves, adding a second finger and closing the gap between your faces to press a kiss on your lips as a reward.
So desperate for affection, you don't hear nor feel his amused laugh as you throw your arms around his neck when he starts to pull back after giving you but a peck, trying to hold him close, pull him into a kiss.
Shinsou shakes his head no, his fingers curling in you as he does so, your back arching off the bed. "Let's not get greedy, pretty girl. Don't worry; I'll take you there- as many times as you want. Okay?"
"Okay." You nod obediently and- fuck, Shinsou feels his dick ache with how hard he is.
"You take my fingers so well." He mutters, almost talking to himself, fascinated by how eager your pussy pulls him in. "Just listen how you gush around my fingers, how slutty your pussy is," Shinsou chuckles, the wet sound of your cunt making you cry out a whine. "Looks how wet you are, so messy, so pretty, wanna make you cum so many times-" He raises his brows when you shake your head 'no'
"Wanna-" you whine, "wanna cum on your cock."
"Please?" You add quickly, giving him the mastered doe-eyes. With the way his fingers sink into the flesh of your thighs, you know you're pushing him till he can't hold back anymore.
"Ah, fuck baby." You moan as his eyes roll back in his head. "How can I say no to you when you ask so nicely?"
You writhe under him as he rubs the swollen head on your pussy first, wetting the tip of his cock with your arousal as you nuzzle your face on his neck to get more of his scent, his skin muffling your moans when he lightly taps your clit.
"If it's too much," Shinsou holds you by the chin to make you look at him, your gaze half-lidded, mouth agape, you looked fucked dumb already. "what were you going to say?"
"Band-bandaids." You half-moan, half speak. Satisfied with the answer, Shinsou can't wait any longer as he's finally pushing himself in you, your cunt pulsing around him-
fuck- so warm, so wet, so soft-
"Holy fuck!" A guttural groan rips from his chest as he feels your strained walls pulse and flutter around him, trying to adjust to his size as he hears your needy cries right next to his ear. It has him losing his mind; Shinsou angles his hips just enough to have you screaming his name, and the feeling of his cock dragging against your pussy, heavy and hot in you, is enough to have you teetering on the edge already.
"'s big!" You whine into his neck, body convulsing with each drag of his cock in you. "So big- you're so big, makes me feel so full." You gasp, unaware of how you bring your hand to your stomach, pressing on the bulge that appears when he pushes in you.
You look so mindlessly fucked out; with your face twisted in pleasure, mouth fallen slack and drool pooling in the corner of your lips, eyes rolling back in your skull as he plunges in and out of you.
"Shinsou- Shinsou, ah, fuck!" You babble, nails digging in his arms to leave angry red crescents. So lost in the pleasure, you're not exactly aware of Shinsou's hands roaming around your face, cupping your jaw, caressing your cheeks, pushing back stray hairs. So cute, so vulnerable for him- he can't wait to make your face wet with tears.
"I'm gonna- I- I'm gonna cum!" You moan, but he knows this already, by the way your back arching off the bed with each deep thrust of his hips, by your pussy clenching even harder on his cock, your hands holding on to him like he's your lifeline.
In a heartbeat, just as you're sure the coil that's been growing in you is going to snap, just as you're about to fall into that bliss- he stops.
A broken sob follows his stillness, a cry ripping itself off your chest at the feeling that was just beyond reach. "Why?" You whine into his chest, hips wiggling to try and feel the same as you did a second ago.
"Shh, it's okay," he coos, voice breathy, more uncollected than he tries to look, purple locks of hair submitting to gravity and falling down, hovering around his face like an indigo halo. "I'll let you come as many times as you want- if you beg."
He raises a brow at you when you squirm under his touch, clamping down on his cock when he growls in your ear, hot breath fanning on your neck. "Beg for it, pretty girl, beg for me to make you cum on my cock- such a hungry slut- beg and I'll give you whatever you want."
You look up at him teary-eyed, your body shaking like a leaf in hungry need, for release, for him, but your lips refuse to atone, your head shaking side to side as a sob leaves your throat.
You can't, you can't beg, but the feeling is irresistible.
"No?" Shinsou voices your silent rebel, and you think the shadows on his face just got a few tones darker.
"You think you have a choice?" His voice low and grave as you feel a pair of hands snake up your body and wrap around your neck, squeezing just the right amount to have your eyes widen with shock, pussy tighten with need but not so much that you're gasping for air. "Nothing but a filthy whore- look at me when I fuck you."
Another squeeze has your eyes rolling back in your head, his filthy words traveling right down to your weeping core. "Now beg."
This time, you don't miss a beat before obeying, pleas falling from your lips along with whimpers of his name, but it's not enough; that you can tell by the dissatisfied click of his tongue. "P-please, sir," you whisper, it makes him move, a hard thrust in your to show praise.
"P-please fuck me-" you add, trying to speak between his occasional deep thrusts, messing with your head. "Show me my- mmh, fuck!- my place!"
As soon as the words are out of your lips, Shinsou goes out of his mind as well. His eyes widen with how your words affect him, an electrifying warmth blooming in the pit of his stomach. "Show you your place?" He growls, and you cry out a moan when he starts thrusting in a ruthless pace, his grip on your neck now suddenly a tad tighter, black spots dancing around in your vision.
"Show you what a slut you are, is that it?"
You're not even comprehending the words he's spewing, the feeling of his cock filling you up has warm tears running down your cheeks, sobs mixed with moans filling the silence other than the sound of skin slapping skin and his low growls.
"Crying? What a little baby, can't even take a cock in you, huh? Then what are you even good for?" Just as he finishes his sentence, the tip of his cock grazes that sweet spot in you, making you cry out a louder sob. "Sh-shinsou, please!"
Hearing you sob out his name like that has his cock twitching in you, your legs wrapped around his waist, legs digging into the small of his back, your nails biting in his shoulders as if he's the only thing holding you up and sane, newer ones filling his skin with each thrust he gifts you. His lidded gaze focuses on your fucked out face, drooling as your mouth falls slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head, face wet with tears you're still shedding. His hand travels from your neck to your jaw, forcing you to look at him so he can lean forward and plant a wet kiss on your lips.
"Fuck yeah- look at you, pretty girl, crying because how good I'm fucking you, huh?"
You nod pathetically, knowing he's waiting for an answer, but a nod is all you can muster with how hazy your mind feels. "More, more- please sir, ah!" Your hands travel from his arms to his back, leaving red, angry stripes on his back as well; one of your hands find a purple lock of hair, taking it between your fingers and hanging on it as hard as you can-
"Ah, shit!" Shinsou shouts as he throws his head up in the air at the dull pain you give him, his cock twitching in you and making you cry out a moan. You're not even aware you're pulling his hair, not aware you're getting him so close to cumming, not aware of anything but his fat cock drilling in you.
"Shit! Baby don't- ah, don't do that or I'm-" He groans, thrusts getting harder, faster-
"You're gonna cum?" He growls in your ear as he feels you clamping harder on his cock, the feeling of you fluttering around him bringing him to your high with you. "Huh? Are you? Answer me." Shinsou's hand grips your hair, pulling it and exposing the skin of your neck for him, open and vulnerable for him to leave marks.
The feeling of his hand in your hair, the kisses he leaves on every sensitive part of your neck, the way his teeth graze and sometimes bite your skin- it's all too much, your body shaking and back arching, you're close- so, so close that-
"I'm cumming- sir, please, I-"
"Cum for me then." Shinsou orders, voice breathy and shaking with the pleasure he's swimming in.
All it takes is for him to lean for another kiss, his tongue sliding in your mouth, and you're falling off the sweet edge, cries getting louder and body shaking with a ripping orgasm, you're clamping down on his cock like crazy, like you won't ever let him go, your dainty hands in his hair and hanging on his locks without care and fuck-
"Give me one more, baby, one more-" Shinsou grunts in your ear, lips grazing the shell as his fingers rub vigorous circles on your clit, "I know you have it in you, come on."
"I- I can't-" You try to speak, but it's all too much, your mind foggy, the tip of your tongue lolling out. "You can," Shinsou growls, orders. "You can and you will."
It's not much after your body convulses with yet another orgasm, hanging on Shinsou as he keeps fucking into you, and you know he's close.
"Come in me!" Your voice cries out to the man; you have your arms thrown around his neck, pulling him to yourself, want to be closer, closer, closer- "Please- come in me! I want to feel you- ah!"
You gasp as he gives you few last pumps, overstimulation making you flinch. Shinsou comes with a groan, teeth sinking into the conjunction of your neck and shoulders and causing you to cry out in pleasure mixes with a tint of pain.
Your eyes are falling as he pulls you to himself, closing his arms around you and holding you against his chest. You stay like that for a while, both too tired to even ask each other how you're doing. He finally slips out of your abused cunt, standing up to glance at you worriedly when you wince. "Sorry."
"How are you feeling?" You hear him grumble as he shuffles through the drawers, wetting the clean towel he pulled out from there. When he comes back, you also notice the bottle of medicine he has in his hands.
"Here, take this." He gives you the medicine and a cup of water, leaning towards you hesitantly. "Should I?" He brings the towel towards the between of your legs, but still keeps a distance.
When you nod, his soft touch ushers your legs to part. He grimaces when you wince at the contact with the towel, even when his touch is so light, but you endure it.
"I should help you out with those." You mutter, half-embarrassed as you inspect the angry red lines adorning his back and arms. His chest is littered with lovebites and marks you don't even remember leaving, and he chuckles when he drops his gaze to look for himself, as well.
"It's okay; you should rest." He laughs. "I'll take care of it later."
You nod, but you still feel his gaze on you as you push yourself deeper in the sheets, mind swimming in thoughts of-
"What are you going to do now?" Shinsou voices, and you notice he's back in his boxers and a shirt, hair in a little more shape. You blink a few times, not knowing how to answer, not knowing the answer, hands fisting the sheets in tight balls.
"I first wanted to go find Aizawa." You shrug, rubbing your eyes. "Before I came here, I mean."
He huffs out a surprised laugh, glancing at you with his brows raised. "That's a first." He mutters. "What's the occasion?"
A smile sneaks its way on your lips as you give him an unfazed shrug. "You think I'll tell you? Maybe I'll let you hear what it is when you take me to him."
Shinsou stays still for a second or so, the predatory glint he had a few minutes ago appearing once again in his indigo eyes. "My silly little baby," You feel two of his fingers graze the underside of your chin, tilting your gaze to meet his. "I thought we already agreed that I can make you do anything I say." You feel his breath on your lips, leaning to close the gape.
"Or should I teach you one more time?"
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bucksfucks · 4 years
Text
           amorosa // steve rogers
         chapter two: seal the deal
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    chapter one // chapter two // chapter three
                    chapter four // chapter five
              ─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
                             main masterlist
summary || after setting up a date with steve you fight back the urge to bail on account of your nerves. an agreement is reached and despite all odds, steve makes you feel relaxed and calm before you’re welcoming him back to your apartment after the night is almost over.
pairing || sugar daddy!steve x reader
word count || 3,111 words
warnings || financial struggles, sugar daddy dynamics, undefined age gap, unprotected sex, fingering, oral, heavy daddy kink, praise kink, size kink, dirty talk — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI
     You didn't know what to expect. You had never done something like this before. 
     As you rummaged through your closet, groaning at the struggle of finding something decent for tonight. You didn't own anything that would match what Steve was wearing, you barely had time to go out as it is.
    Not to mention your financial situation didn't exactly let you splurge on the finer things in life, your phone screen had been cracked for over half a year. You'd been meaning to get it fixed, but you could never justify dropping more than a hundred dollars on something that still technically worked. 
    Your mind flashed back to when Steve dropped the hundred on the bar like it was nothing. Suddenly you felt self-conscious, knowing you weren't nearly good enough to be going out with a man like Steve Rogers, Vice President of Stark Industries. 
    Professional or not, people would be talking and giving you odd glances. 
    You settled on a comfortable, sleek pair of straight cut pants and a simple blouse. Steve had decided on a steakhouse, a steakhouse of all places for a single drink as he put it last night. Another groan as you slipped on the uncomfortable and only pair of heels you owned. 
    A simple black open-toed shoe matched your outfit enough before you grabbed your purse, slinging it over your shoulder. 
    The Uber would be here soon enough and while spending thirty dollars on a car ride to a place you'd have to try not to stick out like a sore thumb, the subway in heels just wasn't an option. 
    The entire ride there your leg couldn't stop bouncing, no matter how much you willed yourself to calm down, nothing seemed to help as you left the modest looking part of the city only to enter into an entirely different world. 
    Luxury brand stores lined the streets, expensive cars parked at their side as your stomach flipped at some of the sights. 
    You didn't fit in here, you were sure your driver was just as confused as you as they kept driving deeper into the city. 
    "Have a good night," he bid you as you thanked him, shutting the car door and letting the late summer breeze billow around you as you looked up at the restaurant in front of you. 
    Bluefin read in a fluorescent blue light as you shook your head, laughing at the ridiculous situation you were in. You pulled at the door, it was heavy and tall before a hostess prompted you. 
    "Do you have a reservation with us, miss?" She asked, eying you up and down as if she knew that you were a fraud, like you didn't belong; and she wasn't wrong. 
    "I uh, have one with Mr. Rogers." You stumbled over your words trying to sound as confident as possible. She nodded her head politely, asking you to follow her before she swiftly turned to lead you through the maze of tables. 
    You took in your surroundings, the dozens of chandeliers hanging from the ceiling to the gold plated booths and shimmering table legs. It was safe to say that this place was way out of your comfort zone. 
    "Mr. Rogers, your guest for the evening," she spoke sweetly, throwing you a small smile as Steve got up to greet you. He placed a kiss on each of your cheeks, the action causing your body to flush as his beard grazed your skin. 
    He smelled exactly like he did last night, though this time it wasn't as subtle. He smelled fresh and clean and you could get lost in those same dashing blue eyes again.
    "I'm glad to see you again." Steve smiles, helping you into the booth before sliding in beside you. It was a very intimate space, his shoulder pressed against your as you placed your purse beside you. 
    Two menus were already placed in front of you, two glasses of water alongside a pitcher in the middle as you fiddled with your thumbs in your lap. Could he tell how nervous you were? 
    "It's nice to see you too," you managed to finally spit out as Steve smiled sweetly, he turned his body slightly so he was facing you, "this place has great seafood, I really recommend the crab cakes." 
    Your eyes lit up at the word food, you had been so nervous that it had barely crossed your mind. A waiter soon approached the table, "can I get you guys anything to drink?" 
    You felt like it should be you serving Steve, instead you just shook your head, "I'm okay with just water." You answered truthfully before Steve smirked. 
    "We'll take a bottle of champagne for the table, preferably rosé from 2012." It sounded like he was speaking an entirely different language. To you, wine was wine, if it got you drunk, it was good. 
    The waiter nodded his head, turning around to leave you both alone. You took a sip of your water when you noticed just how dry your throat was. Steve opened his menu and you followed suit before your eyes ran down the various dishes. 
     Everything sounded good and you heard your stomach grumble at the thought of the crab cakes and maybe even the butternut squash ravioli. Then your eyes ran to the prices, your heart palpated at the thought of them. 
    "Dinner's on me tonight, get whatever you'd like." It's like Steve had heard your internal monologue and decided to put an end to it. You were thankful for that, a wave of relief washing over you as his soft features made you feel safe. 
    "Thank you, really. I don't think I've ever eaten anywhere nearly this fancy," you joked, hoping the humour would absolve you of your awkwardness. Steve chuckled, low and deep as the waiter came with the champagne. 
    It was popped then poured into the flutes and placed in ice before Steve picked his up. 
    "To new beginnings," he spoke. You picked up yours, "to new beginnings," you repeated his words, gently clinking the two glasses together before taking a sip. 
    You had never been a fan of champagne, but this one wasn't too dry nor was it too sweet. It was light and fruity and soon enough you knew it would be enough to quell the nerves. 
    When the food arrived at the table, the conversation seemed to flow much more naturally. Steve didn't say much, asking a question and letting you answer as he got to know you. You found yourself sneaking subtle glances in his direction, admiring his side profile or just how close he was to you. 
    As the bottle of champagne was nearly empty, you felt much lighter as giggles fell past your lips. You had leaned into Steve a little more as the night progressed, his large hand falling to your thigh. 
    "So," the faint echo of your giggle was still heard as Steve's expression turned to a much more serious one. "I think we should discuss our… business opportunity." And just like that, you had sobered up. 
    You nodded your head as Steve cleared his throat. 
    "I'd like for you to join me for things like these. Dinner, company events, fundraisers, yearly ski trips to the alps, you know, the boring stuff." You nearly guffawed at his words. The boring stuff? A trip to the alps? Boring? You could barely believe it. 
    Still, you nodded your head, a silent sign for him to continue. 
    "In return, I'll take care of all your bills and expenses. You'll have plenty of petty cash, we'll call it," he smirked. "All I ask is for your company." He concludes and you swallow, taking it all in. 
    "When you say company, do you mean… " You trailed off, not sure how to delicately ask him if he wanted to fuck you or not. 
    Steve leaned in, his face inches from yours as he squeezed your thigh, "that's exactly what I mean, Princess." 
    The pet-name caused your stomach to somersault as your breath got hitched in your throat. You're not sure if it was the alcohol coursing through your veins or if this was just the effect he had on people. 
    Probably a mix of both. 
    Whatever it was, it caused you to wring your hands in his collar as you crashed your lips onto his. He didn't hesitate, not even for a second as his hands went to cup your face. The kiss left you breathless, spinning, and feeling like you were floating. 
    "Is that a yes?" He asks cheekily and you can't find the words, all you can do is nod your head before Steve is forced to drop your face as the waiter brings him the check. 
    You readjust yourself in your seat, one leg on top of the other as you close your eyes to steady your breathing. 
    Steve grabbed his leather wallet, pulling out a flashy black credit card and handing it to the poor man doing his job without any regard. You bit your lip at the interaction, someone with his money and power, it made the throbbing between your legs only worse. 
    "Let me drive you home." Steve whispered meeting your eyes as you nodded, "oh it's okay, I can just take the train back." You said politely and while you didn't want to, you sure as hell couldn't afford another Uber trip. 
    It's not like you didn't want to take him up on his offer either, truthfully, you weren't sure how you were going to react all alone with Steve. 
    You don't fuck on the first date, but for Steve, hell you'd let him take you in the bathroom of this restaurant. God knows it's probably better maintained than your building. 
    "Please? I don't want you alone on the train at this hour, you'd have me worrying all night and I don't think you'd wanna upset me like that." There was a sultry undertone in his words as his lips twitched into a smirk. 
    You nodded your head, "yes, okay, thank you Steve." 
    When you stepped into the now cool late night summer air a shiver ran down your spine as the valet went to grab Steve's car. You stayed silent, kicking a pebble with your toe as you tried your best not to shiver. 
    You felt Steve drape his suit jacket over your shoulders, "chilly night, huh?" He joked, as you hugged it around yourself. This man was full of secrets, secrets you wanted to learn to lock away in your own mind. 
    "Here you are Mr. Rogers, have a great night." The valet said, acknowledging you both as he opened the passenger side door for you. You slipped into the warm car, an Audi, you recognized the four rings on the steering wheel as Steve got in. 
    The car was quiet, city nose becoming nonexistent as he put it in drive. 
    "Where am I going?" He asked, pulling out of the restaurant parking lot and into the bustling New York City streets. 
    "Queens," you said, admiring the lights outside of your window as Steve chuckled, "no way, I grew up in Brooklyn." Steve commented as you turned your head. 
    That surprised you. A guy like him? From Brooklyn? You guess you should've known by his subtle accent, but it made you smile as Steve continued his way to your apartment. 
    "Well, uh, thank you for dinner, Steve. Really, it was the best food of my life." You chuckled as he returned your smile. "It was my pleasure, you're good company." He joked, squeezing your thigh as a new wave of arousal running through you. 
    You both sat in somewhat awkward silence as you grabbed your keys from your bag, clutching them in your hand. 
    "Do you maybe wanna come up for a cup of coffee? Or tea? I don't really have much to offer." You chuckled, as he smiled, “that sounds lovely." 
    Steve followed you to the front of your building, the old, paint chipped door creaking open before you pressed the elevator button that only illuminated on good days. 
    Today was not that day. 
    You tapped your foot as you watched the numbers descent until the L appeared on the small screen, the bell dinging. You got into it silently, the only sound was your heels against the stained flooring and the electrical whirring of the elevator. 
    Steve kept a respectable distance, his shoulder brushing yours as the elevator car moved up to the eleventh floor. 
    You stuck your key into your lock, jamming it upwards as you fiddled to find the sweet spot before you managed to push the door open, "home sweet home." 
    The apartment was small, a little over five-hundred square feet, but it was more than enough for you. You decorated it with plants and art you'd find at your local markets. It felt cozy and like home, but you knew it was nothing compared to what Steve was used to. 
    You didn't bother turning on any of the main lights, a small light in the kitchen was all you needed as you were finally able to kick off your heels. You dropped to your true height, having to crane your neck upwards to meet Steve's eyes. 
    It was in this moment that you realized just how massive he was. Broad shoulders and long legs held him upright as his now darkened eyes looked you up and down. You had forgotten all about the coffee as you felt his gaze all over you. 
    "You look stunning," he whispered, stepping closer to you. "Words just don’t do justice." He added, snaking an arm around your waist. 
    "Let me show you just how beautiful you are to me." He breathed, mouth close to your ear as you gasped, nodding your head. 
    "Oh, Steve, please." You whimpered, your hands going to rest on his shoulders as he pulled you flush against his body. You could feel him hardening through his dress pants, pressed tightly against your hip. 
    "Call me Daddy tonight, Princess." Steve purred as your stomach flipped before his lips were back on yours. He tasted like the remnants of the champagne as his tongue explored your mouth. 
    "Daddy," you gasped, his lips working his way down your neck as he pushed you further into your apartment. You yelped when he tossed you onto the bed, the moonlight streaming through your curtains and onto the sheets. 
    "That's my good girl, you're bein' so good for Daddy." His praise sends goosebumps over your skin as his fingers begin working on your blouse. You can sense the urgency in his actions, both of your hands having one goal in mind; remove any and all clothing. 
    You barely have any time to stop and admire Steve's build. He's toned, lean and fit and you already love the faint chest hair as he works on your bra. It's discarded soon after, your panties being yanked off before Steve's standing naked in front of you. 
    "Fuck," it's a breath that falls from Steve's lips as he's right back on top of you. His nose traces down your chest, his mouth paying equal attention to both of your nipples before his mouth is floating above where you need him most. 
    Neatly decorated hair covers your mound as Steve places your legs over his large shoulders, spreading you open in front of him as he lets out a low groan. 
    "Princess, you're so wet. Is this all for me? Is this why you've been so squirmy during dinner?" He smirks, his question rhetorical as he uses his fingers to spread your lips open. 
    Your hips are bucking, fists around your sheets as you whine. Steve's tongue is wide and warm against you when it finally connects with you. A lewd moan slips past your lips when he swirls it tightly around your clit. 
    The attention to detail is mind blowing, his fingers slowly slipping inside of you as he works you open. There's nowhere in the world you'd rather be than right here with Steve's face buried between your thighs. 
    "You taste so sweet, Princess." He hums, moaning around you as your fingers tangle in his once neatly styled hair. You tug on the locks, a low groan in response that spreads warmth through your body. 
    "Daddy, pl-please, wanna cum." You're lost in the sensation of his fingers scissoring you open, his tongue flicking tight figure-eights over your clit. 
    "Cum for Daddy, Princess, cum all over my face." He growls, curling his fingers deep inside of you, breaking the coil as your back arches off the bed. 
    You feel like you've just ran a marathon, lungs aching for oxygen, and he hadn't even gotten his cock yet. 
    "Hands and knees, Princess. Show Daddy your ass," he growls, flipping you over as you prop yourself up on shaky knees. You're mewling, wanton and burning to feel how his cock will fill you up. 
    The bed shifts under Steve’s weight as his fingers dig lightly into the flesh of your waist, positioning your hips as his cock nudges your entrance. 
    “You think you’re ready for my cock, Princess?” He taunts as you wiggle your hips against him as he chuckles deeply from within his chest before slowly sinking into you. 
    You both moan at the sensation, your warm walls gripping around him as he stretches you out. 
    “Takin’ Daddy’s cock so well Princess—fuck, feels so good.” Steve grunts, his hips snapping against yours with a force that has you falling face first into the pillows. 
    His one hand goes to rest between your shoulder blades, keeping you planted firmly against the bed as he fucks you deep into your worn out mattress. 
    Your moans are muffled, you're thankful for the position considering your walls are paper thin and you'd rather not have your eighty-five year old neighbour Darleen hear about the mind-blowing sex you were currently engaged in. 
    "You gonna cum for Daddy again? Make a mess over his cock, hmm?" He whispers in your ear, voice hoarse and gravelly as your toes curl and you're cumming again for him. 
    Steve pulls out, fisting his cock in his hands before you're feeling his hot cum painting your back as you're reeling at the aftershocks of your orgasm. 
    You're pulled out of your post-orgasmic bliss when you feel Steve cleaning you up with what? You don't care, you'd do laundry tomorrow, throw it away, all you wanted was to feel Steve's arms around you. 
    He falls back into bed with you, his gentle eyes meeting yours as he chuckles, "if that doesn't seal the deal, I don't know what will."
tagging // @jennmurawski13 | @nakedrogers
any and all feedback is always appreciated! <3
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lightrises · 3 years
Text
"Only in allowing her to pass..." — Hornet, The Radiance, and the means by which Hallownest turned its victims against each other
A quick note: I read Hollow Knight as an anti-colonialist text. As such I'll be touching on topics related to colonialism as it's depicted in the world of the game, and said analysis will reflect both a sympathetic take on The Radiance and a critique of The Pale King that won't pull its punches. If this sounds up your alley, hello and thank you for the read! Let us be sad about these bugs together.
———
So!! A while back I realized something about pre-canon that felt rather... "curious" is one way to put it, I think. To wit: for all the effort and scheming and determination The Pale King poured into trying to get rid of The Radiance, neither of his plans involved directly killing her.
Was that his long game? Well, sure, that seems clear enough. His tack changed from luring the moths away from their god and creator to a more literal form of incarceration once the infection became a factor, but at its core the end goal never really changed—The Pale King very sincerely wished to destroy Radiance via obsolescence. The Seer lends us foreshadowing to confirm as much:
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[Image descriptions: Two screenshots from Hollow Knight, showing the Seer and Ghost in the Seer's alcove at the Resting Grounds. Across both screenshots, the Seer tells Ghost the following: "None of us can live forever, and so we ask those who survive to remember us. Hold something in your mind and it lives on with you, but forget it and you seal it away forever. That is the only death that matters." End description.]
(Which, by the way and given the context, talk about an extremely unsubtle allusion to cultural genocide huh!!! Whew.)
In any case, we're left with a whole bunch of machinations which build up to... well, two very roundabout attempts at committing deicide. That's kind of weird, all things considered! Why not just do the deed in one fell swoop and get it over with?
This could be for any number of reasons. Maybe the king was devoid of the means to instantly kill another higher being. Maybe his personal sense of scruples stopped him short of signing off on MURDER murder (although, y'know, the aforementioned genocide + eternal imprisonment = still cool and copasectic apparently!). Maybe the long drawn-out cruelty was the point. Maybe the idea of playing fuckign 4D chess with the circumstances was too delicious for him to pass up—that man did love to tinker and stick his claws where they sure as hell didn't belong—or maybe it was a little bit of All The Things. Who knows!!
But interrogating The Pale King's methodology on this count isn't what I'm here for, at least not really. The main reason I raise this question at all is that in her own way, Hornet did too.
"I'd urge you to take that harder path... "
See, going by The Pale King's actions and what The White Lady explicitly says, they both foresaw two outcomes wrt the infection: it can be allowed to spread, or it can be contained. At Teacher's Archives, Quirrel acknowledges the fact that Ghost is expected to do... something about this, but he doesn't elaborate on what HE thinks that's supposed to be apart from the obvious "Gotta bust into Black Egg Temple first". Hornet is the one person who presents to us—to Ghost—what's framed as a third option: confront and destroy the infection at its source.
And she doesn't bring it up like it's just another tactic for Ghost to consider, prim and indifferent to what they would do. She nudges them towards it, actively, up to the point where she throws herself into the fray against Hollow at a juncture that's uniquely dangerous to her and her alone just to make that option feasible.
Even when she's couching it in disclaimers that this is still Ghost's decision to make (and let's be fair, she's extremely not wrong about that lol), no one can pretend Hornet is unbiased. It's obvious in that buttoned-down Hornet kind of way that she is way the hell done with the increasingly tenuous stalemate that's kept Hallownest's desiccated corpse from collapsing in on itself. Personally it's hard for me not to read some Toriel Undertale-esque "My father was too entrenched in his own foolishness to pursue any course of action that would have DEFINITIVELY ended this" shade into her stance here, regardless of whether that's strictly true in canon.
And that bit—Hornet's hopes for an end to Hallownest's stasis, moreover her grim calculation of what needs to be done to get there—that's the bit I find super interesting but likewise tragic and depressing as shit, on multiple levels. In no small part because a) canon itself gestures towards Hornet feeling conflicted about the very plan she's pushing, and moreover b) she has at least two (2) damn good reasons to feel that way.
So, what do I mean by that? Let's look here first:
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[Image description: A screenshot from Hollow Knight, of Hornet and Ghost inside the Temple of the Black Egg, standing in front of the unsealed egg itself. Hornet has been struck by the Dream Nail and her dialogue is displayed as follows: "... Could it achieve that impossible thing? Should it?" End description.]
As the curtain is about to drop on things one way or another, Hornet thinks,
... Could it achieve that impossible thing? Should it?
Now, looking at that last bit it's easy to go "Oh no, Hornet's worried that Ghost won't survive killing The Radiance!" And I do think that's part of it: Hornet is, categorically, not her father. By endgame it's clear she's not content to view her Void-borne siblings as tools to be used then disposed of. She's also well aware that as a healthy autonomous Vessel amongst the countless dead, Ghost is the only person left alive who has a fighting chance against The Radiance. Knowing someone is the only qualified candidate for the job doesn't make encouraging them to embrace a probable death sentence any less of a bitter pill to swallow, though. And odds are on that this sentiment extends to Hollow too, who IS going to die no matter what happens here. To put it bluntly, it's more than reasonable to conclude that Hornet hates the absolute fuck out of this.
But I don't think that's all there is to it either. Remember what I said earlier about The Pale King's bids for genocide? Well, it's not like the man deigned to limit his efforts to just the moth tribe.
"We do not choose our mothers... "
On top of everything else—an infected Hallownest being all she's ever known, the fact that she only exists because of the infection, the list goes on—Hornet has spent her life wedged into a position that's been uncomfortable and terminally unglamorous at best: she is both a daughter of her father's kingdom and of Deepnest.
Deepnest, which like the moths and many others was here long before the wyrm and his lady wife swanned onto the scene and the God Become Bug laid claim to everything the Light touched plus a considerable amount of change. THAT Deepnest, which has fought claw and thread to retain its sovereignty against same-said settler king, and for which Herrah not only surrendered her life but also agreed to bed her worst enemy, all in hopes of securing a viable future for her people (put a pin in that last part by the way, I'll come back to it soon).
Two Worlds, One Family (Ft. An Indigenous Woman Trying Her Damndest To Work With What She's Got Versus An Imperialist Who Only Signed Up For This Because He Needed The Political Favor THAT Badly, So It's The Height Of Dysfunctional Actually). Fun times!!!!
The baggage this entails for Hornet is gnarly enough without implications made by The White Lady and the pre-canon timeline of events and even Team Cherry's dev notes that the king may well have looked at baby Hornet, gone "YOINK", then ensured she spent the lion's share of her childhood reared within the pearly auspices of his Pale Court*. That would be rather advantageous for Him Specifically after all, the potential to mold a born foe into a future ally and even have her trained in combat under the same tutelage as her doomed sibling. And far be it from him to stop a grown Hornet—his own flesh and blood too!—from making Deepnest her forever home if she so pleased. He totally wouldn't be reneging on his "fair bargain made" by doing this one simple thing until Hornet came of age, not t e c h nic c a l l y.
If that is indeed the case, there's a non-zero chance Hornet's formative years were a hot mess of cultural alienation and being a good deal more privy than most to just how much of a bastard her father could be. There's an equally non-zero chance that at some point she stood or sat within earshot as The Pale King finally, finally dropped all pretense and euphemism to name the Light for precisely what (for who) it was.
See, in conjunction with the question that started this whole dang train of thought I've been asking this one too: Does Hornet know? When she speaks of confronting "the heart of [the] infection" does she know she's talking about not just a literal person but someone very specific? The Radiance, who god though she may be shares skin in the game alongside Hornet as a native woman screwed over by the same settler king, likewise deprived of her kin and saddled with a life gone horrendously pear-shaped?
I'll assume for the sake of exploring the possibility and because I think it's a likely one anyway that yes, Hornet does know. She knows, and despite everything can't help empathizing. She might even look at Radiance and see bits and pieces both reflected and slightly inversed in her own mother: Radiance was forced to the sidelines while her people—her children, the brood she was meant to lead and care for—died out under The Pale King's rule, and it's no stretch to assume she's at least as upset about that as she has been about everything else; Herrah too took drastic measures for her people's sake, trying to head off annihilation by relegating herself to the sidelines in an act that was as much calculated risk as an attempt to find wiggle room and leverage in the face of a nasty proposition.
A calculated risk that, if things continue as they are, might well amount to nothing as the rest of Deepnest gets eaten alive by the infection. It survived The Pale King's advances for so so long, only to fall here. Herrah's sacrifice would be for naught; the other tribes—themselves the king's victims—would keep succumbing to the infection too.
And this is where things fall apart.
"... or the circumstance into which we are born."
Let's be clear: I think Hornet is wise enough to know what's what here, that all the carnage and suffering falls on her father's head for starting this slow-motion trainwreck in the first place. Hallownest wasn't always Hallownest. This domain was Radiance's home first, along with many others. It was the worm-turned-king who rolled up on the scene unsolicited and decided this was a ""'problem""" that had to be """solved""".
But the fact of the matter is that he's gone and The Radiance is here, raging, seemingly inconsolable. Above and beyond being Deepnest's rightful heir, Hornet isn't in a position to countenance more splash damage even if the grief and fury fueling it makes perfect sense. She can understand without ever bringing herself to love Radiance, and she can bend her knee to practicality even if she hates the everloving shit out of it because the fact that it "has" to end this way isn't fair.
This lends itself to one last awful conclusion: that Hornet has probably considered and (rightly or wrongly) discarded the possibility that Radiance can be saved, at least not without dragging more collateral along for the ride. If even her mother and every other enemy to the king seemed to dismiss talking Radiance down as an option way back when... well. Why should Hornet hope for any better after things have escalated so far?
Again, it's practical. A practical net good is what Hornet strives for. And again, it fucking sucks.
For extra tragedy points, this makes Hornet's extended crypticness around Ghost followed by her last minute casting about for a reason to tell them "Wait, don't; not just yet" that she never voices even more of a gut punch. She can't bring herself to burden Ghost with the context that haunts her so, least of all when it might weaken their resolve to go through with what (she thinks) needs doing.
It's the "same song, different verse" which led to the mantis tribe and Deepnest being pitted against each other: Hallownest rigged the game so that two women who could have been powerful allies—who have a mutual vested interest in driving out settler rule—wound up poised as enemies instead. And how awful is that? The king for all his being extremely fucking dead still gets the last laugh, because outside of a miracle the game never manifests Hornet can salvage what her mother started and look forward to a future where Deepnest pulls itself back from the brink if and only if The Radiance dies.
Resolution comes at the price of a completed genocide. Add two more dead siblings to the unconscionable pile thereof, while we're at it. That's what it boils down to whether or not Hornet can bear to articulate it as such, and there's no grace or even a properly bittersweet ending to wring from this clusterfuck. And that is rough.
———
* This has been better explained elsewhere, but a quick rundown: The White Lady tells Ghost that Hornet and Herrah "were permitted little time together." On its surface this can be taken to mean that Hornet was still very young when Herrah was shipped off to Eternal Dreamland—except this doesn't jive with the fact that we meet Hornet as an adult. If the stasis kicked in once the Dreamers went to their rest, which in turn halted the aging process for every living bug in Hallownest, AND before all this Hornet experienced little by the way of quality time with her birth mother... I think you can see where I'm going with this.
To top it off we've got Team Cherry weighing in ominously from their dev notes on Herrah: "As part of the agreement for her alliance and her role as a dreamer, King gave her a child (Hornet). Was she allowed to keep this child or was she taken away?" This isn't confirmation by itself of course, but given additional canon details (see above): Can I get a "yikes" in the chat fellas.
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mimisempai · 3 years
Text
I made a wish and you came true
Summary:
Sylvie asks to see what the prince of Loki looks like. When he shows her she laughs at him. Count on Professor Loki to give her a lecture about his Prince.
🌈 Happy Pride month ! 🌈
To celebrate, 1 day, 1 story.
Be ready for smiles, laugh, fluff, tooth rotthing fluff, positive vibes and a lot of love!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/32183185
1731 words - Rating G
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In storm-black mountains, I wander alone
Over the glacier I make my way
In the apple garden stands the maiden fair and sings,
"When will you come home?"
Loki had to stop, overwhelmed by emotion.
Sylvie, her eyes devoid of all mockery, said softly, "So there is a would-be-princess somewhere..."
Loki chuckled sadly before replying, "I like metaphors you know, in this instance, it's not a princess, it's a prince, and I don't know if he's waiting for me or hoping to see me again, it's not even really my home, but..."
"...but you'd like to believe it, right?"
Loki could only nod.
"Show me your prince."
"No way," Loki replied, shaking his head.
"Come on, please Loki!" she paused before continuing, "If you show it to me I'll tell you in detail how I enchant people!
Loki couldn't resist, so he turned his hand and there appeared a mini hologram of Mobius.
Sylvie approached and looked at him closely before sitting down again.
Loki made Mobius disappear.
"Don't tell me that that little man with no stature, no class is YOUR prince?!"
Loki wished he had his brother's hammer to blast her with lightning bolts.
"Yes this is my prince! And your impudence has earned you a lecture on the definition of Prince Charming by Professor Loki!"
Sylvie snorted and told the passing maid to bring her a glass of champagne, because finally she was going to need it.
"First of all, you should know that the charming prince doesn't exist only in fairy tales.
In real life, he is not perfect but he has many qualities that are essential to be wonderful. Is Mobius my Prince Charming?" He didn't wait for an answer.
"To find out, I'll show you point by point that he meets all the criteria that make him a prince for me."
Sylvie settled back in her chair to enjoy the show.
"First, the Prince Charming is generous. He is generous in every sense of the word. He doesn't hesitate to invite you to an excellent restaurant and to offer you a gift you've been dreaming of. Ok, ok, I agree, I didn't have time to fully test that point. But that's not all! He is also generous in giving you all the time you need. He is also able to have an attention that will brighten your day. And Mobius devoted an enormous amount of time to me, when nothing required him to."
Loki thought back to the time Mobius had spent with him just before they left for the mission. He had taken the time to show Loki that he wasn't the villain he thought he was. Nothing forced him to.It wasn't necessary for the mission. In a place where everything was about time, Mobius hadn't hesitated to give him time.
Sylvie simply nodded and waved her hand impatiently for Loki to continue his «  lecture."
He took a sip, cleared his throat and continued.
"Second, the Prince Charming committed. He knows what he wants. He gets up every morning knowing exactly where he is going and what he wants to do. He is also resolute, he has goals in life and intends to achieve them. What is touching is that he is not bragging. Humility is his middle name. Quite my Mobius."
Sylvie noted, fondly, the possessive pronoun, but said nothing.
"Even though he pisses me off, because he is narrow-minded about the TVA,  what he thinks is real. Nevertheless, he still manages to impress me because he believes that what he does is his reality and that he does it for a better world, he does it with all his heart. And when he talks about it there is so much candor that even I have a hard time getting him to see the reality of things."
Loki remembered their discussion in the cafeteria.
Loki had asked him completely sincerely, because he wanted to know what made Mobius go on, "I mean, you really believe in all this stuff, don't you?"
Mobius had replied simply, "I don't get hung up on, 'Believe, not believe.' I just accept what is."
Loki had tried to show him the absurdity of a world ruled by the 3 time keepers and Mobius had replied by telling him that his story, Asgard, mystical realm, beyond the stars, Frost Giants was the same thing.
He remembered Mobius' words perfectly, "Actually it's exactly the same thing. Because if you think too hard about where any of us came from, who we truly are, it sounds kinda ridiculous. Existence is chaos. Nothing makes any sense, so we try to make some sense of it. And I'm just lucky that the chaos I emerged into gave me all this... My own glorious purpose."
Loki had chuckled, to hide the fact that he was disturbed by the accuracy of Mobius' argument.
Mobius concluded by saying, determined, "Cause the TVA is my life. And it's real because I believe it's real."
Committed, yes, his prince was. Loki realized that he missed their discussion. Rarely had he met someone who could resist him intellectually.
"Hey! Loki! Are you there? "Sylvie was waving her hand, seeing that he was lost in his thoughts.
Loki regained his composure and moved on to his next point.
"Third, the Prince Charming for me must be smart but not pretentious, yes because there can only be one pretentious and that is me of course. Who wouldn't want a smart, educated man? Mobius is extremely smart! Can you believe that he knows hundreds of languages more than I do because he has been working in the multiverse for so long! And best of all, when I tried to manipulate him on my first consulting assignment, he figured me out. He almost knew right away that I was trying to play for my own side. Okay, it's a little humiliating. But that's the charm of him."
If Loki was honest, that was when he started to fall under Mobius' spell.
He had been so sure that he could get what he wanted from him. He was sure he had hooked the fish and then Mobius had blurted out, "He's lying. Just playing games. There's no one out there."
Loki blushed slightly as he thought about how he had been found out by Mobius at that moment. That's when his interest had been piqued, because Loki couldn't resist a challenge.
"You know Loki, it's almost cute how you have it bad."
"There's nothing funny about that." retorted Loki before resuming, "Fourth, my prince is someone I can lean on. He is a pillar on which you can rest. Imagine, Sylvie, we were working at the same desk and I fell asleep. And on top of that he let me sleep. You know he has this quiet strength. That thing that makes me know that with him I don't have to pretend anymore. But anyway, I was talking about Mobius, not me."
Sylvie moved closer to Loki and said with a smile, "From my point of view it's the same thing."
"What?"
"Nothing, go on."
Loki looked at her strangely before continuing.
"Fifth, my prince is listening. You know I talk a lot and three quarters of the time to say nothing important. But Mobius, even if I tell him something stupid, he listens to me as if it were the most important thing in the world. And most importantly, he really hears me. He can read between my lines and my metaphors, which he also loves. He's much better at getting people to talk than I am. He was able to see and make me say things about myself that no one had heard before. Sometimes I feel like he's the only one who knows who I really am."
Loki had to stop because the scene was still so present in his mind.
"I can't go back, can I? Back to my timeline. I don't enjoy hurting people. I... I don't enjoy it. I do it because I have to, because I've had to."
Mobius' tone, his look, his whole being turned toward Loki when he had said just that, "Okay, explain that to me.
Then Loki told him that he knew he was a villain.
Mobius' simple but straightforward answer was, "That's not how I see it."
"Hey Loki? You okay?" Sylvie had put her hand on his arm, looking concerned.
Loki pulled himself together.
"Yeah I'm fine."
He coughed and continued, "My Prince Mobius has an incredible number of qualities but I've summarized them for you because we don't have enough time. So I'm going to conclude this lesson by telling you that the quality that attracts me most to him is that he's surprising. He surprises me all the time. Which is paradoxical after all, I am supposed to be chaos and he is supposed to be order. But he surprises me. Where everyone else hates me, he is there and sees qualities in me that even I don't see. When everyone wants me gone, he doesn't hesitate to put his own head on the line so that I don't get erased. Mobius is not perfect, but he is perfect for me. Because precisely, he doesn't put me on a pedestal but he doesn't make me feel inferior either. He treats me as an equal."
"Okay, okay, okay, it's fine he's a Prince. But the mustache though..."
Loki looked mischievously at her and leaning in close to her ear, he said softly, "His moustache is very nice when he kisses me."
"Loki!" she moved back and flicked him on the forehead.
He took a sip of champagne and they remained silent for a few moments.
"And you told him all this, well not in so many words of course?"
Loki's smile disappeared.
"Because of you, I didn't have the time. And I hope that all of this won't have ruined this beginning of a relationship.Anyway, I'll tell him when we meet again, or at least I'll try to, as long as he wants to listen to me..."
Sylvie smiled softly, clinked her glass against Loki's and said softly, "You're insufferable to the core, but I sincerely wish you'd have the chance to talk to him. "
Loki nodded, this time he was determined to fight, because for the first time it was his own happiness that depended on it.
_______
The whole serie here : The story of Loki and Mobius
Not beta'd I hope you enjoyed it 🥰
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sweetcherrypie1967 · 4 years
Text
Narcissa’s Secret
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It was a little known fact that Narcissa Malfoy was a skilled legilimens and occlumens, even more so than her sister Bellatrix. It was how she was able to be part of the Death Eater meetings without having a Dark Mark herself. It pained her that she wasn't able to save her son from the fate she was able to avoid. It pained Narcissa that her husband was foolish enough to jump into such a fate head first, damning the rest of his family without so much as consulting them.
She had begging Lucius to let their son choose his own fate, Narcissa would have begging the Dark Lord himself not to do it but it was her husband who insisted on it. It shattered her heart, hearing Draco's pain filled screams echo throughout the Manor.
Her baby boy, forced to be just like those monsters.
Narcissa tried talking Draco into leaving, run off to any corner of the world to get out and start over or even go to Dumbledore's group. In the beginning Draco had scoffed at the idea but the more she pushed, the more she could see him consider it. While he never went out and said it, there's been a definite change in him compared to when she first brought it up all those months ago.
Now she was standing silently, watching as they brought in the Potter boy, one of the Weasley's offspring and the muggleborn girl. Narcissa noticed a shift in Draco that no one else but his mother would catch, she began watching him closely. She tried to hide a smile as he lied about knowing their identity, Draco's ears always turned pink when he lied. It was a tell that she made sure no one else knew about, not even Lucius.
"Take them all to the dungeons...all except for the Mudblood,"
Narcissa could practically feel the anger radiating off of Draco. It confused her why his reaction was so strong, she knew he didn't want anyone to be harmed let alone someone he knew -he wasn't a monster- but he was always going on about how much Draco 'hated' Potter's pet.
Then it clicked.
The change in him, his reaction earlier and his now. They were all connected, it was because of her!
Just to be positive she cast a silent legilimens on the girl while everyone else was distracted. Her mind was very strong, but once Bella had her way..it weakened significantly. Narcissa didn't have to look to see how pained he was when the girl's screams began. Echoing throughout his own home while he could do nothing but stand there.
What Narcissa saw in her mind shocked her beyond belief.
She searched through her memories, looking for anything to do with her son, when she stumbled upon something no one was supposed to find.
It was Draco and Hermione...kissing! As if they'd done it millions of times before. It was the most prominent memory she could find with him in it, and it was only a few months old. But..too soon to be in Hogwarts. Narcissa's mind instantly went to one of the days Voldemort wasn't in Malfoy Manor, he had left the Manor to visit his friends at Zabini Manor. Narcissa had suspected he was leaving something out of his story, but allowed it. Now, she knew what he was really up to.
She went through what seemed like hundreds of other memories, them sitting together on a couch talking, in the Astronomy Tower after curfew watching the stars and laughing with many more. Narcissa has never seen Draco look as happy as he was in these memories. One in particular caught her attention, unlike most others she saw it was more sad than happy. It was in the Astronomy Tower.
"Please Draco, don't go," Hermione begged in a whisper through her tears.
Draco gave her a sad smile, he wanted to oh so badly. "We both know that I need to go, it's what's best for the Order," Draco said.
"You don't have too! It's too dangerous, please. Dumbledore will understand. Don't leave me," Hermione begged, looking at him with glassy eyes.
They stared at each other for a moment, both hearts breaking at what had to be done.
"Hermione, you don't know how much I wish I could stay. I'd never leave your side through all this rubbish, but you heard the Headmaster. The Order needs me to spy on them. If I can earn their trust, if I can prove to Dumbledore and Potter and even bloody Weasley that I've changed. That I can be who you deserve, then I have to do it," Draco said.
"I don't care what Harry and Ron think-" Draco gave her a disbelieving look, "ok yes I do but I'm going to be with you no matter what. If they don't think you're worthy of me then that's their own bloody problem because I know you are and..I love you,"
Draco's eyes snapped to hers, searching for her sincerity before his face broke out in a grin, "I love you too, Granger."
They both kissed and the memory faded.
Narcissa's son was in love with Potter's pet? Hermione Granger? More importantly, he was working as a spy for the Order of the Phoenix?! Part of her was ecstatic, her son found love and took her advice to get out of this life Lucius had lay out for them! Another part, however, was scared. Being a spy, let alone for spying on Voldemort himself, was very dangerous business. If one was spying on the Dumbledore, they wouldn't have the guts to kill them but Voldemort wouldn't think twice about it.
Narcissa's focus was abruptly interrupted by the whole ordeal with Potter and Weasley saving Hermione and escaping with Dobby. She wasn't expecting her ex House Elf to be their savior but as long as they were going someplace safe. Narcissa knew Dobby used to enjoy listening to Draco rant and rave about the Potter boy and his little group. It was plain that he became fascinated, she wasn't sure if he simply didn't understand her son's sarcasm or just read between the lines.
Once the whole ordeal was done she practically dragged Draco into a separate room and cast every silencing charm she knew on it. She rounded on him and she could see he was guarded and..scared? Draco's fists were shaking along with the rest of him, probably trying to gain enough self control not to go after Bella for what she did.
"Would you mind telling me what that was all about?" Narcissa asked him.
"What do you mean?" He asked.
"I mean with the Granger girl," she said and he set his jaw defensively, "I saw her memories, Draco. I know you switched sides..and I know you love her."
His shoulders dropped slightly but he was still on guard. Just because she knew doesn't mean she wouldn't tell, it pained Narcissa that Draco would even think she would put him in danger like that.
"What's there to tell if you already know everything?" Draco said.
"Well I didn't have quite the time to see everything, and I'd like an explanation," Narcissa said.
“How do I know you won’t go off and tell Father or the Dark Lord himself,” he said.
“Because I’m your mother, Draco,” she said softly, “I would never intentionally put you in any danger if I could prevent it. I love you more than life itself.”
He sighed in defeat, "Hermione, she caught me..in a vulnerable moment. I was overwhelmed by my task and the fact my plans never seemed to work. She offered for me to join their cause, even full immunity for me and you. After all you've said, I've been thinking about it and I accepted. I think it surprised her almost as much as it surprised me," Draco said with a slight laugh remembering, "we went to Dumbledore and he made a plan. It was decided that I was to spy in His ranks and give information back and forth, though only the bare minimum of members knew about my involvement. Me and Hermione began meeting secretly if I received any information and she would keep me updated with anything she was allowed to inform me. As time went on though, it wasn't always about the Order. I fell in love with her and she says she loves me too," he concluded with a warm smile.
"That settles it," Narcissa said sternly. Draco waited anxiously for her next words, "we're getting you out."
"Out? I'm a spy, I can't leave," he said confused.
"The Order already has spies in the Dark Lord's ranks, you don't need to be one of them. I'll even send information if that's what it'll take. You need to be there for your Hermione," she said. Narcissa expected an argument but he sighed and agreed with her.
Only on one condition, she wasn't to act as a spy. 'Too dangerous' he said, the little hypocrite.
They had snuck him out that very night.
Months and months went on without so much as a word from it about Draco. This was good. He was keeping a low profile, it would be dangerous for him to send her anything. But Narcissa couldn't help but worry. What if he hadn't found them? What if something went wrong with Potter or the Weasley boy? What if he got hurt?
So many questions that would have to remain unanswered until it was all over.
The Battle of Hogwarts had taken many lives, including her insane sister Bellatrix. She'd have to thank Mrs. Weasley later, Bella has always caused more harm than good.
Narcissa was especially thankful that when it was all over, her son was still standing and with the Granger girl by his side. Not a perfect ending, she thought, but at least it can still be a happy one.
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ambrosiaaddiction · 3 years
Text
Not Meant To Be
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Word Count: 3,750
Summary: Anthony became the center of your attention, and it seemed as though his feelings were mutual for you. But in light of recent events, he’d only be able to comfort you in more ways than one. With the help of a loyal friend, you have no doubts that Simon will regret leaving you.
Pairing(s): Anthony Bridgerton x reader, Simon Basset x reader
Part 3/6
a/n: Sorry for the incredibly long wait! I knew that editing takes time, but I didn’t think that I would have writer’s block for, well, however long I’ve had it. So much has happened, and I lost motivation after motivation. Although, it’s not entirely fair for those of you who want to read Bridgerton fanfic. Without further delays, here’s part 3!!
                   ⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙
One might think that when he stood outside my home with roses, Viscount Bridgerton had finally set himself on the route to having a family of his own. The Viscount was welcomed by Charles and invited inside, which caused Mama to almost fall over her feet. “Lord Bridgerton! Heavens! What a pleasant surprise this beautiful afternoon to see you!”
It took a lot of willpower not to roll my eyes at mama's change of mood from just minutes earlier. Lady Bridgerton wrote to me her apologies, that were not even pertinent at all, and mama blamed me of humiliating the Bridgertons yesterday. Papa didn't make his typical remarks, but I knew what he had been pondering regarding my misdeeds.
Other than that, Lord Bridgerton told them his hellos, and when he saw me in the family room, his smiling face grew greater. “Miss Denbow, good afternoon. As it always is, you never cease to look so exquisite.” If I wasn't mistaken, I assumed he was intending to flirt with me, and undoubtedly fooled mama with whatever act he was putting on.
“Lord Bridgerton, how kind of you to give my daughter compliments after seeing what she did yesterday at the picnic. In this town, you and your family are truly the most genuine.” Mama was eager to speak in my place, and when she tried to bring up the incident for the second or third time, I swallowed thickly.
Anthony’s mouth twitched at the corners, and he stepped over to me in order to gift his bouquet of roses. “Lady Denbow, I do not blame Miss Denbow for anything. She was suffering and knew no other way to communicate.” Before he slipped back, his fingers lightly stroked both of my hands, then he sat in an empty chair.
Cheeky bastard. He was making light of my missteps, which Mama considered especially inexcusable. And for his compassion, I could not have been more forever thankful. “Oh, Lord Bridgerton, thank you. To hear you say that alleviates my anxiety. And thank you for these roses.” I ran over the smooth petals with my thumb, then bent closer to take in the fragrance of them.
But once again, with more berating remarks on my ‘unladylike’ and ‘outrageous’ nature, Mama ruined the temporary pleasant environment. “I can't understand why, my lord, you want to court her. She may be my only child, but I'm sure she would be a far better choice for another lord of her equals.” My own mother had a toxic tongue which might ostracize her if she didn't take caution of others.
In order to defend against the offensive expressions she was thinking about me, as if I weren't really there, I opened my mouth, but Anthony decided to stand up from his seat and settled next to me. “I'm going to say this as politely as I can, Lady Denbow. What Miss Denbow did at the picnic was not wrong, and she's a wonderfully capable young lady. You are her mother, and I must admit that what you have said makes me very mortified.”
With discomposure, Mama's face grew red and, at last, she remained at a loss for words. “Lord Bridgerton, my apologies. Forgive your mama, y/n. My intention was not to negatively impact you such a way. I'm worried you can't even defend yourself.” Excuse after excuse were all I heard coming from her, but I needed to leave this conversation in the past.
“Mama, I'm forgiving you. But please don't think of me like that. When you do not see that I am well aware of what I'm doing and what I believe is important, I am in despair. I'm no longer a little girl.” Mama nodded, but in sensitivity, she refused to speak as she left Anthony and I in the room alone. "Well, either that may well have gotten out of hand, or the way I hoped it would.”
A chuckle escapes from the Viscount, and I recline against the back of the sofa with a tired sigh. I loved my mama and papa, but sometimes they treated me like I would never age from my childhood years. Despite having no brothers or sisters, I had friends who supported me and shared the same interests as I grew older.
Having Lord Bridgerton here was an enigma that I couldn’t fathom, but I appreciated how he stood up for me when mama complained without cease. Now that she was gone, I took the opportunity to ask him as to why he came to my home. “Anthony, can you tell me the reason for your visit? We both know that you don’t have intentions to court me contrary to what outsiders might believe.” I crossed my arms and waited for a reply, which was his hand resting on the top of my thigh. Perplexed, I looked over at him to see his eyes full of sympathy.
“Y/n, what Hastings said could have been less severe than they actually were, and Daphne chastised him for doing so.” Anthony began, his grip squeezing in reassurance, and he gently pulled it away once I’ve had enough time to comprehend what he told me. It warmed my heart to hear that Daphne was upset in my stead, although I’m sure anyone in their right mind would have done the same for me.
My thoughts wandered to how both the eldest child and the Duke of Hastings were famous rakes with great influence. One had brothers who would take his title and estate if he were to pass, whereas the other had no known relatives and only Lady Danbury to defend his name after his death. I found it funny that I’ve fallen in love with the latter, and he was treating me like I didn’t have a place in his place.
I must’ve been worrying Anthony with my lack of response because he waved a hand in front of my face to bring me back into reality. I shook my head of the unrelated topic and smiled sheepishly at him. “I’m sorry. I became lost before I realized that I’d drifted off.” “Oh, it’s quite alright. Trust me, I do the exact same thing when I’m alone.”
“I’ll be impartial with you, Anthony. I hadn’t given it consideration that your sister would do such a thing, and for me, no less. Perhaps I’ve had the wrong impression of her from the beginning. Everything is going terribly, and I haven’t been able to think properly.” I wore my heart on my sleeve for him to see, and I didn’t care about exposing my weaknesses to him. But Anthony seemed be torn between hugging me and giving a simple pat on my shoulder lest an unwanted third party were to walk in.
If anyone noticed the unusual display of affection, then news would spread that rather than waiting to fulfill the courtship rituals, I was advancing on a lord. He wouldn't be much of a gentleman, in Anthony's opinion, if he were to neglect a woman in distress. “When you weep, I don't like it. It so pains me when I'm labelled useless, but when you're laughing, you look the most spectacular, y/n. Simon's blind and ludicrous, but I know you really love him, don't you?”
“You're right, my lord. Again. I need to let go of my struggles and to live my life to its fullest. The Duke encouraged what I would like to go do, become, and pursue, but under false premises, he is intimately involved to your younger sister.” I forced my body to stand, and in confusion, but without doubt, Anthony quickly followed. In my own house, it felt too stifling, so I concluded that a stroll outside would hopefully help take my mind off what occupied it at the moment.
“Is there anything other than whining and moaning that I could do instead? Wait, Queen Charlotte is holding a ball for her nephew, is she not? I do believe his name is Prince Friedrich.” Anthony gave a short nod, and I could tell that he was already dreading a night of being surrounded by desperate mamas along with their unabashed daughters. Who would blame the Viscount for trying to discourage total strangers from making unwelcome advantages?
I was unexpectedly given the best idea by his affirmation, and I couldn't wait to put it into motion. I wanted to prove my worth to Simon, which would make Anthony and the Prince the ideal partners to irk him. “What say you to opening Simon's eyes in the notion that I attract His Highness tonight? I will have to be in the most magnificent ballgown, and I know that you can help me with this.”
“In the heat of the moment, it won't take a lot of effort to raise feelings of inadequacy in Hastings. He will be fixated on Daphne and attempting to keep conversations with literally everyone who comes across him, but I don't find it unlikely that he will be observing you with the Prince. I know I wouldn't have the means to take my eyes off you, my dear.” That was just what I expected to hear from him, and furthermore. I felt that I had done well enough to seek a Viscount who had awareness of everyone else around him.
Then that settled it. I was going to win the Prince's favor, and Simon would spectate from the sidelines with no likelihood of attempting to snatch me away. It felt invigorating even to think about how it would play out tonight, but it would be seamless with Anthony's help. “For your time and soothing words, I am beyond delighted, Anthony. Until the ball, there is more than enough time, so I want to use it to aim for perfection. Tonight, I hope to see you, my lord.”
“Miss Denbow, I am forever happy to console a lady when she is enduring pain. And indeed, tonight, to my great reluctance, you will see me. For now, I will leave you and I look forward to enjoying your progress.” Anthony bowed as he started to walk out of the family room, and with a curtsey and a goodbye, I accompanied him to our front door.
Since then, hours have passed, and I finally found a dress from Lady Delacroix that was incredible. She wasn't even from France, and her accent didn't fool me.  Not important.  My makeup was done by Marianne, my hair was styled by Lucinda, and mama lent me her diamond necklace to wear. It matched the diamond earrings I got from papa on my eighteenth birthday, and tonight, nothing could go wrong. I was positive of that.
The time had come, and I was one of the few to arrive at the castle fashionably late. The eyes of all were on me, making my chest swell with pride. I got a glimpse of Simon and Daphne who were standing by the refreshments, and they couldn't stop watching as I elegantly walked down the stairwell.
To my amusement, Prince Friedrich was the first one to approach me, and he held my hand and placed a feather-light kiss on the back of it. “Good evening, my lady. You are by far the most beautiful and hypnotizing center of attraction in this ballroom. May I inquire for your name?”
I concealed the lower half of my face with a fan and smiled with my eyes, captivated by his mannerisms. “I have the luxury of being graced by your presence, your highness. My name is y/n Denbow.” After I've presented myself, Prince Friedrich's face lit up, and he guided me off the the last two steps. “To my ears, your name is like music, and it's perfect for a maiden like you, Miss Denbow.”
His flattery would make any young lady practically beg the Prince for a dance at the ball. Well, if he could ever tear himself away from me, that was. “Thank you, Your Majesty. You make me feel like I've got my head in the clouds. If you keep complimenting her, you will certainly find yourself a maiden to court this evening.” From my comment, I swore he blushed a bright red.
“Ah, hello, Prince Friedrich! Miss Denbow! I see that you have made friends with each other. Y/n, I'm so happy you've arrived safe and sound back in London.” Lady Danbury tapped her cane on the ground twice to emphasize her excitement, and I couldn't have been more relieved to see a familiar face among those whose names I couldn't match.
“I have so much to tell you, Lady Danbury. But not here, especially when I came so late.” I apologized to the Prince and wrapped my arm around Lady Danbury as we walked into a more private area. She furrowed her eyebrows together, but she didn't inquire until we got to the place where we could be alone. “Well, speak to me, y/n. What are you so worried about? And why did you come by yourself?”
I bit my lower lip and exhaled deeply, which all the more displeased Lady Danbury. If I tried to explain my desperate condition to her, she was going to have countless questions, and I knew she would never let Simon live in the humiliation he brought upon himself. “I'm sure you've recently read Lady Whistledown's column, and my relationship with Simon, Lady Danbury, is complicated.”
“Unbeknownst to me, when I was in France, he and Miss Bridgerton declared their engagement. He did not give me a letter or even a note when I returned to London that he had gone ahead with a marriage proposal to a young woman he had never met before. I invited him and the Bridgertons to have a picnic just yesterday. I have never been able to remain quiet forever; you know this, Lady Danbury. He lashed out at me, claiming that if he had known that I would be so self-centered and petty, he would never have gotten to know me.”
She went on a tangent as I predicted about how she raised and trained "the shameless rake" to do better than what he did. During the length of her grievances, I remained silent, then patted her arm softly when she started to run out of words to illustrate the Duke. “Compared to his late father, he's not terrible, but he might just be so after he treated you, y/n, and I apologize on his behalf.”
In disagreement, I shook my head, not acknowledging her apologies because she had nothing to do with that. In the sense of flirting with Prince Friedrich, all I wanted from her was to be an addition to humiliate Simon. “If we succeed, then he'll see the good thing that he lost because he agreed to marry another needy girl.”
This caused Lady Danbury to chuckle at my remark, and I had an inkling that her mood improved just a little bit. “I’ll take part in your schemes, girl. Now, let us return to the ball before we’re asked of our whereabouts.” She winked playfully, then gently pushed me back the way we came from.
Men and women danced to their heart’s content, their veins pumping with champagne and even the possibility that they will be courting after tonight. I see Anthony and Simon quietly bickering where no one could eavesdrop on the conversation, but their secrets weren’t going to be hidden from me. “Lord Bridgerton, I thought you promised me a dance?”
I chimed into the midst of their argument, and Simon’s mouth hung open in shock. He quickly closed it, though, and I bowed to him as acknowledgment for his presence. Anthony gathered the remnants of his dignity before offering a hand for me to take. “My apologies, Miss Denbow. I promise you that never slipped my mind from the moment that I asked.”
After the brief yet nerve wracking encounter with the Duke of Hastings, I’m led to have a dance with the Viscount and my new partner of schemes. I felt everyone’s eyes glued to us, which makes me uncomfortable because of the unwanted attention, but it dissolves when Anthony nudges me to look up at him. That’s when I knew how much I admired the man, and perhaps, there wasn’t any obstacle that we wouldn’t be able to overcome.
I may have lost my first love to Daphne, but I also had the power to pull the necessary strings to get what I wanted. Anthony tightened his grip on my waist then closed the gap between us, and out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Simon glare at our swaying figures amongst the others. The spectacle made me laugh softly against the Viscount’s shoulder, and his chest rumbled with a quiet laugh of his own.
“I believe that taught him a harsh lesson, don’t you think, Miss Denbow?” Anthony whispered into my ear, and an involuntary shiver ran down my spine. After clearing my throat, I nodded in agreement. The man wasn’t exactly reputable in every way, but he damn well had my respect. “Yes, it most certainly did, Lord Bridgerton.” I replied, head tilted downwards to avoid eye contact with him.
Once our dance came to an end, I was approached by Prince Friedrich a second time this evening. Young and older women alike flocked around his highness, and I took a small step closer to Anthony in fear that I would be ridiculed by them. Wait, what am I thinking? I shouldn’t be afraid of the people that make their bosoms unnaturally larger than they actually are nor should I be backing away!
“Miss Denbow, may I have this next dance? It’d make me extremely delighted.” Prince Friedrich asked, unknowingly breaking the tension growing between myself and the disappointed women behind him. All I gave him was a smile along with an enthusiastic nod, and Anthony released his arms from around my waist. “I’d love to, your highness. And I could say the same about myself.”
The prince took my hand just when the next song began to play, and we danced as if we were one. If I were being completely honest, he needed a little more practice with his feet, but I was enjoying myself nonetheless. We shared a few words and I kept glancing over our shoulders to see if Simon was keeping an eye on us. In fact, he had been watching the entire time, and Anthony gave me a signal that our plan had succeeded.
I bowed deeply to the prince when our dance came to its regrettable end, and bid him farewell for the rest of the night. Simon appeared out of nowhere then pulled me to an empty area despite my cries of protest. “What do you think you’re doing?! Just because you’re jealous does not give you the right to drag me as you so please, Hastings!”
“Will you keep it down, Y/N?! We both know that I’m not the only jealous one here.” He huffs angrily, and for the first time in a long time, he’s rendered me utterly speechless. No, I won’t play by his rules. Not when there was so much more for me to accomplish. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m simply fulfilling my role as a maiden who hopes to have a courtship.”
Simon rolled his eyes in disbelief, turning away from me so that I’m only staring at his broad shoulders. I’m beginning to lose my calm composure, and the more I stay alone with him, the less I’ll want to leave. He can’t learn of the nights when I suffered alone in France, and he certainly couldn’t force me to risk my reputation for his sake.
“You’ve changed, Simon.” My voice broke at the end of my sentence, but I continued to speak. “I’m not doing anything for you, so don’t get your hopes up.” He scoffed, not convinced by my words, and turned back to face me. His arms find their way around my body like they used to in the past. The next thing I knew, we’re kissing passionately against the cold marble walls.
He had me mewling his name over and over again, begging for a release that was on his fingertips. Simon muffled my sighs of pleasure with his mouth, and we fixed the bridge that was crumbling between the two of us. When we were satisfied, he muttered apology after apology as he kissed my skin. But we both knew that we run away with the position that he was in.
“I’ll figure it out, so wait for me. Please, Y/N.” “Don’t make me promise you, Simon. I want you to prove to me that I’m the only woman you love.” I kissed his neck and cheek, my heartbeat slowing to its normal pace before I fixed my dress. We’ve both been gone for too long, and I didn’t doubt that I would be questioned of my whereabouts.
Simon understood the weight of my words as well as what we would both face when we left separately. He kissed me one last time, and made his return to the ballroom until I did the same. Thankfully, neither Anthony or Mama asked where I had been, and I could breathe easy again. But now I was even more conflicted than before. I made Simon jealous, which ignited sex and doubt that we would be together after all this time.
Although... if I were to adjust my original plans in order for us to have a wedding and deal with the consequences afterwards, then it shouldn’t be very difficult, would it? Well, we would just need to face the challenges when the time comes, and I was determined to have Simon all to myself again.
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Painfully Pointless (AHIT oneshot)
A birthday gift for @habijob, the creator of @queens-nightmare. (I'm so late, I should have posted the rest of the gifts way earlier hhhhHHH)
Summary : "A while ago, Snatcher had given the Queen the task to unfreeze everything, and of course she vehemently agreed. However, what he hadn’t planned was that she was also just as stubborn when it came to unfreeze the numerous corpse all around Subcon.
It wasn’t part of the original task, and the shade made sure she had understood that… But she kept telling him she wanted to do it. Although, unsurprisingly… She didn’t seem to want to be alone when doing it. Snatcher had an idea why: deep down, she must have realized how pointless it was too. However, denial was a powerful thing, just like hope was."
Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/32162935
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Snatcher knew it was pointless, and of course he had told Vanessa about that– but she hadn’t listened to him. Sure, she was determined, but while it all started with that, the ghost knew it would end in sobs and cries. Still, there they were, in front of the manor.
A while ago, Snatcher had given the Queen the task to unfreeze everything, and of course she vehemently agreed. However, what he hadn’t planned was that she was also just as stubborn when it came to unfreeze the numerous corpse all around Subcon. It wasn’t part of the original task, and the shade made sure she had understood that… But she kept telling him she wantedto do it. Although, unsurprisingly… She didn’t seem to want to be alone when doing it. Snatcher had an idea why: deep down, she must have realized how pointless it was too. However, denial was a powerful thing, just like hope was.
-“I already asked you that, but,” he paused, looking away with a frown that showed how conflicted he was about the whole thing: “Are you sure you want to do this?” he glanced back to the Vanessa, who nodded decidedly.
-“I have to,” was what she merely replied, before pushing the doors open. The ghost’s frown deepened as he followed her inside, his mind still full of terrible memories of this place. In any case, he kept his mouth shut. Without a word, she and Snatcher gathered all the statues in the same place: the entrance. Once they were done, the Queen moved closer to one of them.
Not a human’s, but a bushcat’s.
It was terrifying to think that all of these statues used to be alive, used to be actual people walking and talking… A long time ago, Snatcher had made sure to do his part in Subcon, unfreezing the children’s corpses and burying them respectfully.
And that was why he knew why Vanessa’s hopes in that regard were all pointless. Dead people never came back to life, and he knew that from experience. However, he hadn’t been that direct with Vanessa, which… Was a bit cruel, in its own way. Yet, he wasn’t sure if that would discourage her anyway. It hadn’t when he himself unfroze the poor children, and if she was as stubborn as he was…
Slowly, Vanessa knelt in front of the frozen bushcat and brought her trembling hands to it. She was hesitating, and the ghost was sure that she was afraid of what was going to happen. He wasn’t really surprised… He had been in her shoes years ago. But despite that, the woman took a deep breath, readying herself for what was to come. She closed her eyes and frowned, visibly focused on the task at hand. Soon enough, the ice started to melt and water drops fell to the wooden floor, staining it. It didn’t take so long for the Queen to unfreeze the poor animal, the texture of ice on her hands replaced by the soft touch of leaves… But as soon as said animal was free from its ice prison, it fell down to the side, unmoving and not breathing. Its eyes were lost into space and it was clear that life had been gone from this small and frail body for a very, verylong time.
A shocked gasp left the woman’s mouth as her mind was forced to realize that yes, it was too late, way too late. All of these statues, these people… They were dead. The only thing that was left of them was their fleshy, icy shell of a body.
Horror spread on the Queen’s features as she leaned closer, her hands shaking hard. She didn’t want to believe it, he knew that, he had been there too- but there wasn’t anything they could do anymore. Still, tears filled her eyes and she lightly touched the animal, sobs leaving her mouth as she muttered a series of “no, no, no, please, no…!”
The sight was a difficult one for Snatcher. It was like re-experiencing something he wished he could forget… But it was also hard to see Vanessa feeling so guilty over something she did while being controlled by a merciless entity. He wanted to tell her it wasn’t her fault- and it wasn’t, but he was aware that wouldn’t help. All of these ice statues… It was a chilling reminder of how dangerous her powers were and how deadly they had been to so many people, even if she hadn’t been herself when doing it. No matter what he’d say, she wouldn’t listen, just like she hadn’t when she decided to unfreeze everyone. And so… Without saying anything, he just put his hands over her shoulders, trying to comfort her the best way he could- but then, as if woken up from her trance, she span towards him and hugged him tightly. He could feel her icy tears touching him as she sobbed, crying and screaming how she was so sorry, how she wished she could just go back and avoid the freezing… The shade hugged her back, frowning more as he glared into space:
-“It wasn’t your fault,” he told her, patting her back as she cried against him: “you know that.”
-“I did this! It is my fault!” she protested, and he kept brushing her back. No words would help her to feel better in this moment. What she had witnessed had deeply shocked her, reminding her of the Subcon tragedy. And while she hadn’t caused the freezing out of her own free will… It wasn’t so surprising she blamed herself so much for it.
… While there was actually a person responsible for the murder of the villagers.
“I’m going to make him pay,” Snatcher thought with determination, holding Vanessa tighter: “I won’t let him hurt anyone.”
His eyes glanced back to Vanessa and his expression softened at the sight.
-“You can go outside if you want,” he offered, his voice a bit calmer: “I’ll take care of everything.”
He felt her shaking her head and, slowly, she stepped back, breaking the hug:
-“… No,” she retorted, her voice breaking from all of her crying: “I want to do this. I have to,” she insisted and Snatcher didn’t push the argument further. Maybe this was her way of coping… Though it was a very painful one, he had to admit that much.
One by one, she unfroze the statues, holding back her tears as she recognized the people she had known in the past. The ghost had offered to unfreeze some of them himself, “to be done with that whole thing faster”, but she had refused. Surely she had guessed this was his way of saying he could help, but it seemed like she was really determined on fixing what she had done years ago.
Well… Is this could be considered as “fixing“.
It took them a good hour to finish unfreezing everyone and soon, there were several rows of corpses on the floor, all lying down with their hands crossed over them. Vanessa remained silent for a moment and, before Snatcher could say anything, she crouched down next to each corpse, closing their eyes as gently as she could.
-“I’m sorry,” she whispered to them: “I’m really sorry,” before going to the next person and repeating the same words and gestures. The shade watched her without saying anything, knowing she was trying really hard to apologize for what she had done- but then again, it hadn’t been her fault. It was someone else’s.
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When she was done, she stood up and took a few deep breaths, probably resisting the urge to cry again. The ghost hesitated, not really sure if he should say anything. After what seemed to be a few minutes of respectful silence, the Queen turned around and looked at him, tears still in her eyes:
-“Will you help me bury them?” she asked him softly. The answer was obvious and Snatcher nodded his head, floating closer to one of the corpses:
-“Yeah,” he murmured, picking up someone who used to be a servant of the Royal Family. He carried the person to the door and glanced back at the sorrowful woman: “We need to get them outside first.”
Vanessa nodded dutifully and picked the bushcat from earlier, the first being she had unfrozen. Holding it tightly against her chest, she joined the ghost and opened the doors, her face full of regrets and sadness.
-“Let’s do it,” she concluded before making the first step outside, one that was the continuation of her attempt at “fixing” things as much as she could given the irreversible circumstances. Then again… This was her way of coping.
A painful, pointless way of coping, but one nonetheless.
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