#but the first few chapters he will remain someone I am trying to protect and love from a distance

[bunniesbearsandadventures]

Heyyyyy you!

Yeah all of y'all

I am planning on writing a Guzma x (Me)/Self insert that's an AU based on Spiderman.

I want to write my self insert as a spiderwoman/Spinarakwomen AU with Guzma as sort of a Mary Jane type where my self insert tries to fight the Aether Foundation (mostly faba who's portrayed as Doc. Oc/ Doc. Ten(tacruel).

Would that be something y'all are interested?

(Don't worry Guzma still has his personality the same. He is just going to be the love interest/secondary main character my self insert is fighting for.)

When I post/update this story it will be on my side blog :@teamskulladventures

☠️🎧🪲🖤☠️🎧🪲🖤☠️🎧🪲🖤☠️🎧🪲🖤

[howcouldmuffin]

First Choice II

[ Chapter 2 : Duties and Needs ]

We can’t always get what we desire indefinitely. Every choice comes with its own set of responsibilities. It’s up to you to decide whether you’ll rise to the occasion or not.

PAIRING : Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Reader

WARNING : SFW, Targaryen Incest, Non-canon

AN : I really like the current scene and am trying to write it as well as possible. I hope you enjoy it.

CONTENTS : Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

please be kind to me English is not my first language.

After the last conversation, there was no further dialogue. Viserys decided to take everyone hunting, it must have been something the adults discussed that day. You were quite excited because it was well known that your father was frequently ill, making outings difficult.

The king’s command caused a stir in the palace. The grand expedition of the Targaryens was attracting the attention of all Westeros. Sometimes, there was even a competition for hunting, who could catch the largest game, or who could hunt the rarest animal.

You knew that the groups would be divided for hunting, and you would learn which group had whom based on the king’s wishes. You thought your father might pair you with one of your brothers or perhaps a guard, but instead, he paired you with Jacaerys.

After learning the results, he looked at you and walked out of the gathering tent. He must have been disappointed with the pairing. Once everyone learned their partners, they dispersed to prepare. You went to choose the horse you would ride for the day.

In the stables, there were only a few stablehands and soldiers. You walked straight to the horse you usually rode, Elysian. You watched it for a moment, it was an intelligent and fast horse. You stroked its head and neck slowly. It recognized you.

“I’d like to ride this one.” you said to the stablehand.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Your Highness. Someone else has already chosen this horse.” the stablehand replied, surprising you. Normally, no one else chose Elysian except you.

“Who chose it?” you asked the stablehand. He hesitated for a moment, looking down and avoiding your gaze, which only made you more curious about who it was.

“It was me.” came the voice. It was Jacaerys, walking with Baela. “I selected it for Baela.”

“If the princess wishes to ride this horse, I can choose another for her.” Baela said quickly, her face flustered compared to Jacaerys, who remained indifferent. You looked at Elysian before making a decision.

“It’s alright. I must have arrived too late.” you replied, and began looking around. “I’ll find another horse.” You gave them a faint smile and did as you said.

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Baela said, and you nodded at her, searching for a suitable horse, which proved to be somewhat difficult.

“I’ve selected a horse for you, Princess.” Jacaerys said, leading you to a horse he had chosen. “This one.” he pointed to a beautiful white horse, not unlike Elysian but slightly larger and more fitting for you.

“What’s its name?” You stroked the horse that Jacaerys had chosen. It was very docile and seemed to suit you well.

“It doesn’t have a name yet. It’s a new horse. If the princess wishes, you may name it.” stablehand said.

“This horse looks like it could run fast. I’ll name it Breeze.” you decided.

“That’s a fitting name, Your Highness.”

“Well then, you should go prepare.” Jacaerys said, reminding you. You nodded in acknowledgment and walked away. It was always uncomfortable to be around him, and both of you knew that the awkwardness between you was considerable, hoping it would diminish over time.

Soon, the bell rang, signaling that everyone could enter the forest. You and the prince set off. At first, there were two soldiers following, but Jacaerys soon dismissed them, saying you could protect yourselves. You were confident in your ability to manage, though you wondered if he might see you as a burden.

“What do you think we’ll encounter first, Your Highness?” you asked.

“Probably a rabbit or a squirrel.” he replied. “And you? What do you think we’ll see first?”

“Maybe a snake.” you said. He chuckled slightly. “Or perhaps a bird.”

“Yes, it might be a bird.”

And then there was silence again. Both of you rode on aimlessly, meandering along the stream, hoping to spot an animal drinking water. You were about to ask something when a faint sound caught your attention—an animal, not small. You turned to Jacaerys, he nodded in acknowledgment and immediately sought the source of the sound.

It soon became clear that it was a large bear approaching. When it noticed you, it charged at you. Jacaerys, faster, drew his crossbow and shot at the bear, but it didn’t fall. You drew your bow from your back and fired additional arrows until the bear was subdued. Jacaerys dismounted and approached it slowly. You followed, still keeping your bow ready.

“You’re very skilled with a bow, Princess.” he said, turning to you with a smile. You returned his smile, pleased that he seemed more open and accepting of you.

“Thank you, Your Highness.” you said, putting your bow away. “Should we tie it to the horse and let our horses drink at the stream for a while?”

“That’s a good idea. This bear is quite large, and we wouldn’t want to return with nothing.”

You rested on a log by the stream, watching both horses drink. Jacaerys sat down next to you slowly. He was charming and easily captivated those around him. He turned to you.

“What else have you learned besides archery?”

“Fencing, horse riding, and other things boys like you do.” you replied.

“But do you also learn the things girls learn?”

You nodded. He looked surprised and somewhat skeptical. It’s unusual for a lady to wield a sword or a bow like a man. Ladies don’t typically know the names of weapons as men do. If it weren’t for your desire to earn favor from someone you loved, you might not have pursued such skills. As others say, a proper lady shouldn’t act like a man without shame.

“If you need advice on weapons, you may consult me, Your Highness. I’m not an expert but I know a bit.”

The sound of leaves crunching made you reach for the dagger at your waist and look around. Both of you saw a large deer approaching, much larger than usual. Something urged you to stand up and approach it as well. It showed no fear toward you or Jacaerys, walking directly toward you as if to communicate something. When you got close, it lay down. You stroked its head, and it submitted willingly.

“This kind of deer is rarely seen here.” Jacaerys said. “It’s magnificent.”

“But we can’t take it with us. It might suffer.” you observed. “It seems fine, not injured.”

“I think it really came to us.” he said. “Look, its herd has left.” You looked in the direction he pointed, and it was true. It had intentionally separated from its herd to come to you.

“This deer has such beautiful antlers.” you said. “What should we do?”

“Since it came to you, you decide” he said, giving you the opportunity to make the choice as he walked closer to the deer.

“If we think about keeping it, its chances of survival are less than letting it go. But since it came to us, I think we should make sure it doesn’t suffer and take it back as our prize.”

Jacaerys nodded in agreement with your decision and put the deer out of its misery with minimal suffering before tying it to the horse and heading back to the gathering point. Throughout the journey back, you and he exchanged conversations. His horse carried the large deer while yours carried the bear, according to the horse’s capacity.

When you returned, everyone was clearly surprised. You and Jacaerys talked and had managed to hunt two animals. The result was a unanimous victory for you and the prince. You both smiled at each other like never before. It was surprising that the two of you could truly become friends.

Weeks have passed since the hunt, and your relationship with Jacaerys has noticeably improved. Conversations while walking through the corridors at night, riding dragons together in the morning, and occasionally sharing meals have become routine. Yet, you still sense that the wall he has up against you hasn’t completely disappeared. Everything seems to require time.

“Do you want to go dragon riding with me today?” he asks as he walks in while you’re writing a letter to your brother, something you don’t do often but always keep up with.

“After I finish writing this” he comes and sits across from you. “You can go ahead, I’ll catch up with you.”

“I’d rather watch you write.” Jacaerys says as he continues to watch you, making you think you should hurry up and finish so you can do what he wants.

“You don’t have to rush. I enjoy watching you.” He reply.

“What’s so interesting about my face?”

“It’s because you’re beautiful and pleasant to look at.”

“I don’t see it.”

“You should trust me, I’m a witness.”

“Well, then, I suppose I’ll believe you.” you say. You look up and meet his gaze before looking down. “Are you going to practice sword fighting today?” you ask, trying to act normally to distract him, even though your face is flushed and your heart is beating faster.

“Will you come watch?”

“Does it matter?”

“It would… would be nice! to have someone to give me advice.”

“Today, I might not be able to. I have a cooking lesson with Oliver.”

“Oh, that sounds... well, interesting.” he replies, somewhat awkwardly. “Will you bring me some pastries again?”

“I’m not sure. I might not make pastries, but if you want, I can bake something for you.” you offer. He falls silent, making you look up at him. He stares at you with a slightly disappointed expression. When you catch him looking, he turns away, almost as if avoiding blame.

“Or you can come to the kitchen and have lunch with me.” you suggest with a smile, wondering if he might be very particular about food.

“Alright, let’s have lunch together.”

“I’m done writing now. Let’s go.” you say as you get up and gather your things. He stands up as well, his face showing the excitement of a child who’s happy to have someone to play with. You secretly hope that perhaps this could be more than just a good friendship. But for now, quietly falling in love with him might be enough.

“What do you think about joining me to visit the orphans?” you ask, as you both head out of the room towards the Dragonpit.

He turns to you with a warm smile, one he’s been giving you more often lately. “I’d love to go with you.”

“That’s wonderful.” you reply with a smile of your own. “I’ll need to prepare some toys for the children, then. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled!”

“Do you think the children will like the toys we've brought for them?” you ask Vidah while she is doing your hair.

“They’ll definitely love them.” she replies. “You’ve also prepared some small treats for them, haven’t you? Who wouldn’t be happy about that? And with a prince coming to see them too.”

“I’ve also prepared to tell them a few stories and brought something for the prince.” you say, gazing at your reflection in the mirror. “Do you think he’ll be willing to narrate?”

“If the princess asks, he surely will.” Vidah says confidently.

You frequently visit the orphanage, helping the children as much as you can because they are the future of the city. Some are sent to school, the strong ones are trained, and the girls are placed to serve noble families, as much help as you can provide.

“It’s finished.” Vidah announces. “You look beautiful as always.”

Today, you chose to wear a blue dress with a low neckline and sleeveless design. You wore minimal jewelry and avoided anything that might make the children uncomfortable. You opted for a shorter dress for ease of movement. You looked at yourself in the mirror for a moment before heading out.

“I’ll wait at the carriage.” you tell your maid. She nods and leaves to prepare additional items for you. You notice a bit more hustle and bustle than usual but don’t think much of it, assuming it’s just a prince or princess being demanding.

You walk to the castle exit but see no sign of the prince. You assume he might be coming soon. You climb into the carriage and try not to think too negatively. However, after waiting for nearly half an hour, you begin to understand that he might not come.

A knock on the carriage door makes you hopeful, but when Vidah opens it, it’s another maid. Vidah speaks with her, and both their faces show concern. After their conversation ends, the maid turns to you with bad news.

“What happened?” you ask her.

“The prince is unable to join us.” she replies.

“Why?” you ask. “Does he have an urgent command?”

“No, Your Highness.” she replies hesitantly. “Lady Baela was injured. She fell off her horse while checking its condition, so the prince had to rush to her.”

“And… is she seriously hurt?” you ask, feeling a mix of disappointment, sympathy, and confusion.

“No, Your Highness. Just a few bruises and minor scratches.”

You are at a loss for words. You don’t want to believe that you aren’t important enough to keep the appointment. You feel deeply disappointed. Baela did nothing wrong, but the fault seems to lie with you for being insignificant to him.

“If you wish, you may cancel the visit.” Vidah offers. You consider it for a moment before responding.

“No, I will not cancel. Let’s go. The children have been waiting long enough.” you decide. Vidah goes to inform the soldiers outside, and a maid comes to comfort you. She hugs you in silence. You must not be sad and need to adjust your mood because the children are probably feeling worse than you. You want to be a positive presence for them.

When you arrive, as expected, the children’s faces light up upon seeing you. They smile with innocent joy and no pretense. You smile back at them. Some children peek around, probably looking for their prince.

“I must apologize for being late today.” you tell the children.

“What about the prince?” one little girl asks. You smile at her.

“Our prince has many duties and received an urgent command today, which prevented him from joining us. But he kindly sent delicious treats instead. Do you understand?”

The children look at each other, puzzled. Whispers start among them. Some look disappointed while others talk to their friends.

“The prince said he would definitely visit next time.” you reassure them. “Now, who would like to have some treats from the prince? Raise your hands!” You nod to the maid to start distributing the treats. They seem very happy when each child receives their share. The room quiets down once the treats are distributed, and you sit in the middle to continue with the next activity.

“Next, I will tell you some stories. If you want me to tell all of them, you need to be good listeners. Do you understand?” The children nod. “Once upon a time…”

“Are you going to the orphanage again, little sister?” Aegon asked at the dinner table.

“Yes.” you responded, not looking up and continuing to eat. You could feel Jacaerys’s gaze on you, but you ignored it, not wanting to see his face because it made you feel worse.

“Does your sister go there often?” This time, it was the eldest sister asking Rhaenyra. You didn’t talk to her much, but she was always kind to you.

“Often, yes.”

“That’s quite an interesting hobby. If you ever want to go again, let me know, and I’ll help with the children’s supplies.”

“How will those children grow up without parents?” Aegon spoke up.

“That’s why we must provide them with love and warmth instead.”

“A noble duty.” your brother said sarcastically. “Why go through all that trouble?”

“Most of their parents are soldiers, and if they aren’t, they died from illness. Their mothers are the same. And they are our people, Aegon.”

“Your sister is right. You should learn to care about something more useful, Aegon.” your grandfather said. You were surprised because it was he who said this. Your brother fell silent immediately and regretted his words.

“Never mind. It’s good that you care for the people as a princess.” Viserys said to you, “and I hope you’ll come to understand soon.” He then addressed Aegon. “Have you both decided what you want as a prize for winning the hunting competition?”

“Not yet, Your Grace.” Jacaerys replied.

“That’s fine. No need to rush.”

“Lady Baela, I heard you fell from your horse. May the gods bless you.” your mother said to her.

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Baela replied. You noticed Jacaerys staring at you again, and it started to annoy you. You couldn’t tolerate it any longer.

“Forgive me, Your Grace, but I’m very tired today and need to retire.” you said.

“Go rest then.” Viserys said.

“I think it’s a good idea for me to escort the princess to her chambers.” Jacaerys said. You looked at the king, who nodded in agreement. He wouldn’t dare refuse his beloved nephew. You left the dining room without waiting for the prince.

Walking through the quiet corridors, he followed closely behind. You quickened your pace as much as possible, only now realizing how far your room was. You were angry, but it was not unusual to rush to someone you cared about when they were hurt. You might do the same.

“I’m sorry.” he said. “I know I didn’t make it to our appointment because—”

“I know why you couldn’t come.” you said, turning to him. “I understand, Your Highness. I have no right to be angry with you.”

“Next time, I’ll go with you.” he said, taking your hand and looking into your eyes. If it had been you a few days ago, you might have easily fallen for this trap.

“Let’s talk about this another day. I’m very tired and need to go now.” you said, pulling your hand away and walking into your room without looking back at him. It was undeniable that you were hurt, but did you have the right to be? He was only fulfilling his duty as a good friend. You were only betrothed in name, not because you truly loved each other. It hurt to know he liked someone else, not you. It hurt deeply.

tag list : @r3va-dwme @ladyofvelaryon @mckennah123 @ericasabe @yohanseyebrowmole @mah1644

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Fifteen - Rhythm of our hearts

♡♡♡

Daphne, the beautiful duchess, had spent her time in London wisely. She used what sorces she had to help Marina Thompson track down her far away love.

You still had not seen much of Daphne. She had been quite busy, and you were really starting to miss her presence. You had hoped to catch up with her at some point, but you would just have to wait for the next opportunity to present itself.

The concert. You were all dressed up to go. Your mother had been gushing about this. Lord Hardy was going to be in attendance, and according to your mother, he had asked about you only a few days prior. You put on your nicest gown and prettiest jewellery for the occasion.

Who knew? Perhaps something would spark.

There was also the fact that the queen would be in attendance tonight.

When you arrived, the atmosphere was wonderful. You arrived on your mother's arm, and you smile at some familiar faces. You spot the duke and duchess, and you wonder if tonight you may get the chance to talk to Daphne.

Benedict is stood by himself drinking champagne as he watches the gentleman talking to Cressida. He was at the studio. With Henry.

Then he spots Granville and approaches him. Henry turns toward Benedict. "Bridgerton."

The two excuse themselves from the others to talk elsewhere.

"I would simply like to understand your... situation." Benedict says.

Henry sighs softly.

"I would just like to understand."

"It is simple. I am in love with Lord Wetherby." Granville tells him.

"You're married." Benedict points out.

"And our marriage affords my wife her freedoms and protections," Henry explains. "It is a happier union than most of the people in this room have, I assure you."

"What is the advantage for the young ladies Lord Wetherby is courting?" Benedict asks. "Do they all share this understanding?"

Henry chuckles.

"What about honour? Romance?" Benedict continues.

"What would you know of either?" Henry asks in return. "We live under constant threat of danger. I risk my life every day for love. You have no idea what it is like to be in a room with someone you cannot live without... and yet still feel as though you are oceans apart. Stealing your glances, disguising your touches. We cannot so much as smile at each other... without first ensuring no one is watching."

Benedict is silent.

"It takes courage... to live outside the traditional expectations of society. You talk of doing the same... but perhaps it is merely just that... all talk."

Henry Granville walks away.

Benedict is left with his thoughts. As he lets all that sink in, he catches a glimpse of you across the room. For a moment, he feels his chest fill with warmth. He thinks about approaching you, but then he sees Lord Hardy.

You're smiling.

Benedict remains where he is stood and watches quietly. Alone.

A second son without a mark on the world, and now no companion to confide in. Nothing was coming up roses for Benedict Bridgerton.

Inside the concert hall, you take your seat beside Lord Hardy. Your mother sat on the other side of you, keeping her eyes focused on the crowds, allowing you time to talk to your companion.

You smile as he speaks to you. His voice is smooth, and you rather like the way he says your name.

Benedict is stood by the door watching you. It seems your evening is occupied, so much for stealing you away this evening. Then again, perhaps that is for the best. Benedict isn't sure his thoughts are put together tonight.

Eloise comes up beside him looking rather desperate. "How long is this concert?" She asks her brother.

"About three hours... Four?"

Eloise looks less than pleased.

"Though, uh, I certainly have already heard enough," Benedict says, glancing your way briefly.

"You are my favourite brother. Do you know that?" Eloise says, smiling at him.

He chuckles and takes his sister's arm. The two leave the concert hall.

You don't see him go.

♡♡♡

The two siblings sit in the carriage quietly, heading home. Eloise is caught up in her thoughts. She thought she was on a secret mission from the queen to discover Lady Whistledown's identity, but tonight, the queen had brushed Elosie off and stated she had hired people to do the job for her.

Benedict was lost in his own mind, too. He was thinking about you. He had hoped to pass the evening pleasantly by your side. The concert itself was nothing of any actual interest. You both could have talked quietly, enjoying each others company.

Yet it seemed you had made up your mind. Your pursuit to find a husband was possibly baring fruit. Lord Hardy seemed a nice enough man, he supposed. Benedict didn't know too well, but je certainly seemed to have your attention tonight.

So, Benedict should do something to enjoy his evening, too. A thought comes to his mind.

He reaches up and taps on the top of the carriage. "I woul like to make a stop and pick up a friend."

Eloise looks at her brother. "A friend?"

"Should I not have a friend?" He asks her.

Eloise chuckles.

"I'm not bound by the rules of society," he tells her. "Please do not tell mother."

Eloise scoffs softly in amusement.

The carriage pulls up outside the modiste. Eloise looks at the shop front with confusion. "Why are we here?"

Genevieve climbs in.

Eloise looks at her brother.

Genevieve looks at Eloise, surprised to see her.

"This is my sister, Eloise, and we will be dropping her at home," Benedict says.

The carriage moves again.

Silence fills the air.

"How was your night, ma chérie?" Genevieve asks.

"It was... everything I expected. Horrible and terribly boring."

"So this is why you do not wish to lower your hems?" Genevieve chuckles.

"The entire ton were there, and I did not have a single worthwhile exchange." Eloise tells her.

"The entire ton? You mean, everyone except for the Featheringtons?"

"Yes, everyone except... them." Eloise is struck with a thought.

Eloise falls silent.

"Is everything well, Eloise?" Benedict asks.

She looks up at him. "Hmm? Yeah."

Eloise looks at Genevieve again.

♡♡♡

The concert has begun. You and Lord Hardy look up at the stage as the music plays. Your arm rests next to his.

The and duchess have a box. Neither of them look at each other.

Violet sits in a box with Anthony. She looks across at her daughter. Anthony casts his eyes down to the people below. He sees a family face.

Tonight is filled with all kinds of feelings from everyone around the room.

The orchestra was rather good.

Lord Hardy keeps his head bowed low, close to you, so he may exchange words with you quietly. You smile as you respond to him.

Perhaps tonight will change things for you after all.

The duke reaches for his wife's hand. She smiles softly. The music continues to play, and then she looks down. The duke wat he's her. Her eyes meet his, and she looks at him. She flees the box.

Her courses have come.

Violet flees her box to go see Daphne.

Fingers curl around your gloved ones. You look down to see him holding your hand. You lift your eyes to Lord Hardy. He smiles at you and then turns his eyes back to the concert.

Your mother sits straighter in her seat.

Yes, tonight, there are many emotions being felt. Some hearts are breaking. Some are yearning. Yours is racing.

You are glad you came.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd

@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy - @acupnoodle

@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @crazymar15

@cosmixstar - @bree3parchen - @berrnuu - @charmainemaclendon - @pinkpantheris - @krismdavis

@biancamde - @ifgslsofbsodbf - @kniselle - @berarenado - @grassclippers - @bwormie - @avengersgirllorianna

[penvisions]

by the grit of sandpaper {chapter 5}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Chapter Summary: Another overnight patrol, an asked favor, a miscommunication, a fleeting moment of pleasure and it all comes crumbling down. Even worse than you had anticipated, the allure of being a part of something bigger than yourself blinding you into believing it was finally within reach.

Word Count: 10.3k (!!)

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, illusions to past death, illusions to past trauma, blood, mild injuries, hurtful language, town gossip, rumors, negative feelings, pining, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, lots of feelings, angst, hurt and comfort, joel miller's hands need their own warning, intentional flirting, unintentional flirting, casual intimacy, urges to kiss joel miller get their own warning, adult content, teasing, yearning, protective joel, fluff, this is so unbelievably soft, size kink unlocked in reader, (girl, i feel you), reader is described as smaller than joel (bc c'mon), reader has a commonly used nickname but no assigned name, joel and reader pov

A/N: holy shit, i am so sorry for the mix up with the original content. i'm so emotionally drained from today that i didn't realize it wasn't the final version of the chapter that i uploaded. but it's fixed, all scenes are complete and as they should be.

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

It was your fault, you realized. As you set about searching for something you remembered seeing in the house when you had first been assigned to it and moved in with Aiden. It had been one of those things that you stared at in disbelief, startling manic, nearly hysterical laughter that had turned into tears and uneven breaths. So ridiculous to have come across it over a decade after the end of the world.

A pack of index cards.

Index cards. Who needed index cards at the end of the world, when language was all people had. Skills like writing, reading, all faded away and dormant reflexes that could be called upon if and when needed.

It hadn’t mattered if you could write, had the ability to write or read when you were running for your life from Infected and humans, crashing through the remains of what was once a town or city, crashing through snapping and unforgiving forests, crashing through unforgiving open land in the hopes that you weren’t spotted a mile away by someone trying to protect what was theirs or looking for targets.

It was your fault he had pulled away to the point of beginning his…thing with Marsha. The way you had run from him, run from what you had both shared. But it didn’t mean anything, he was...Joel was…an important part of the settlement. Integrated far better than you ever had the chance to and you would just ruin it for him. He had to understand that because he too, hadn’t tried to bring it up.

Gathering them and a few of the cookbooks you had, you settled at the kitchen table. Taking the time to flip through the recipes to find simple ones that could be adapted to the more limited means the settlement could produce. Eager to find ones that Joel wouldn’t find too challenging and would like the end result of.

Just as your pen hit the paper, a knock sounded on your door. Sighing, you set it down and made your way across the front of your home to find Tommy with a crying bundle in his hands.

“Maria left me with ‘im for the day to handle some council business and he won’t stop cryin’.” He looked like he was about to burst into tears himself, but you didn’t say as much. Knowing firsthand how draining it was to look after a newborn.

“Well, good morning to you too.” You said as the man shouldered his way past you and took up half of the couch, an old backpack swinging from his elbow.

“You said to come to you for anything we needed, and I need your help.”

“How do you know I’m not bad with babies, huh? Maybe they hate me and I’m one of those women who don’t like them?”

“But you’re not. Right?” His curls were a frizzled mess, his eyes telling of his sleepless night as they widened and regarded you almost desperately. Rocking the bundle in his arms gently, holding it close, But his arms looked angled weird, totally not in a natural hold. “Joel always said I was too anxious around Sarah when she was super little and that’s why she cried for him for hours until she tired herself out. But he’s busy workin’ on finishing up that new roof before the snow really starts to come down.”

You did know who Sarah was. It had been a rather slow and somber conversation between you and Joel one day in the middle of summer. You had only been going out on patrols with him for a few months at that point. Him and Tommy focusing on getting as much done around the town upon his return, taking longer than usual to add a newcomer to the roster.

He had asked after you, if you lived alone. You had answered yes, saying you lost everyone in the initial chaos of the outbreak. Your city too densely packed for a chance to return home, the only chance at survival had been to immediately flee. He had told you something similar, that he had lost everything but his brother in the wake of the virus. You hadn’t asked after who, but he had told you of his daughter. His biological daughter with a wet chuckle at how she was too kind for this world anyway. You had looked away from his tears, knowing even back then that he needed to speak otherwise it would eat him from the inside out. To think of her constantly and not be able to talk about her must’ve hurt just as much as losing her. Mentions of her sprinkled future conversations and you were glad he trusted you with that part of himself.

 But you weren’t sure if Tommy knew you did beyond her name as chalk on a blackboard memorial in his living room.

“I’m good with babies,” You assured the man beside you. Slipping a full bottle from the side of the pack and asked him to dap it to your wrist. You licked up the milky liquid, immediately pinpointing the issue.

“It’s too bland, a little sugar mixed in won’t do any harm. But I prefer maple since it’s got the same qualities of honey but less of the local pollen. Both will help build immunity to the blooms come spring time.” Standing up, you carefully moved the baby to rest along your front, head on your shoulder and moved into the kitchen. The cap had been unscrewed by a watching Tommy and you stirred in a bit of maple syrup that had been collected outside the gates.

The bundle in your arms was still crying, though not as high a volume as when Tommy had first entered the house. Softly hushing and cooing to try and calm him. The second you touched the bottle of sweetened milk to his little lips, he quieted down and began to sip.

“Oh, thank god.” Tommy’s head was in his hands, elbows atop his knees. You settled beside him once again, smiling over at the older man. “Olive, if this is too much, I promise-“

“It’s okay, really.” You let him rest a wide palm on your knee, his fingers caressing the bare skin there as your dress skirt allowed for them to show. His eyes wide and beseeching, making sure you were really okay before he sunk into the cushions. “I’ve made peace with it a long time ago…”

It was his fault. The thought consumed him as he inspected the planks of olive wood, having brought them into the house after the first heavy coat of frost that covered the whole town after a particularly chilly night. He recalled having woken up, shivering as he yanked on a pair of thick socks and searched through the closets in the house for a spare blanket to throw over his bed. How he wondered if you were warm enough in your own bed as he donned his boots unlaced and jacket unzipped to drape another blanket he had taken from the closet over a passed out Ellie in her little studio.

And then he had wondered what type of clothing you wore to bed. When you had answered the door in your robe, it hadn’t looked like you had anything on underneath it aside from maybe underwear and a tank top. Not enough to keep your skin from the chill that tended to seep in through the panes of the windows all around Jackson, despite the blessing of functioning heaters.

He hadn’t gone after you, his attention being called away. You had run off, too startled by being interrupted and most likely embarrassed at being caught in such an intimate moment. But…it had been such a good moment until it had been shattered.

You had shown up at his door in a long dress, the skirt flowing down to your knees, thick fabric around your legs to combat the ever-present chill in the air. There was a whicker basket, handle draped over your forearm. That paired with your worn boots and wide brimmed had had been such a lovely image to open his front door to.

It had been hard not to stare at you and you talked and guided Ellie through dinner, faint music drifting into the kitchen from the living room as he set about cleaning up after each step and setting the table. It was all so domestic and he wanted for more nights like it. Just you and him and Ellie.

Sighing, you made sure to lock the front door behind you. Apron bundled up beneath your armpit and thrown in the general direction of the laundry room door on the other side of the kitchen. Filling and setting a kettle over the stove, you stood and looked out your kitchen window for a moment, taking in the fluffy snow that had attempted to stick as the dark, moody sky brought it over the town. It was still early, the sunrise more than likely about to occur, but it hidden in the overcast.

You shifted your gaze over the counters, logging the ingredients you had on hand for a possible breakfast even if you weren’t terribly hungry at the moment. When they landed on the broken mixing spoon that had decided to crack and splinter last night under your soapy hands as you cleaned up over dinner, you moved to rummage in the hall closet. The scrape of untreated wood along the floor sent a chill up your spine as your fingers closed around what you were searching for.

The thick slab of wood is covered with an old flat sheet. It had been from a tree last year, one that had lost a main branch in the same winds that had taken a whole one from your collection.

It was beautiful. Rich in color, the grain so detailed and curling in beautiful swirls. Burl added layers and looking pretty as it was set just so in the cut. You had kept it, unable to burn it for the soil. The thought of asking Joel to make you a set of cooking utensils had been in the back of your mind for nearly the entire time he had been here. But now with the crop of cutting boards artfully crafted, you were tempted to ask him to make of those from the hefty source in your hands.

But he hadn’t offered you one, hadn’t so much as mentioned that he had begun to make more and more ever since that first one he had been ‘trying out the idea’ in Tommy’s kitchen. You were hesitant to bring it up, but with the holidays only a couple weeks away…you were curious to see his reaction to the request.

You didn’t ask anything of anyone. Not even when you first got here, had taken the time to acclimate to the way life was led here within the settlement. Community, social circles, job detail, patrol. All of it had been taken in stride, and you worked for everything in your possession. Joel did too. You admired him for it.

A few moments later, you were rapping your knuckles against the man’s front door.

Ellie comes around the side, hearing it from her separate garage. She had looked frustrated, then curious, then excited.

“Hey, Olive,” She walks up to you, noticing the wood in your hands. “The old man’s not home, he went to help out with the lil guy.”

“O-oh, okay. I’ll just come back, I guess.” But when you began to inch closer to the porch steps, she ascended them with a small smile.

“Nah, come hang with me until he gets back.” She brushed past you with a soft touch to your arm. A key slid into the lock and then you were hesitantly following her into the house. “Feel free to make some of that god awful coffee you two enjoy so much, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

You saw her dip off down the hall, the sound of her rustling through something behind an open door allowing you the privacy to make up your mind on the offer of coffee as you stood on the threshold to the kitchen. With a determined push, you set about to search for the coffee grounds and mugs. He had only two, one with a detailed owl and another more simple one. It was a plain white one that was hefty and looked like it belonged in the full hands of diner waitress. 

It transported you back to late nights and early mornings surrounded by ruckus laughter and inside jokes, the scent of pancakes and bacon cooking on a flattop and the jingle of a bell to signal overflowing plates were ready to be dug into.

“What’s that in the cloth?” Ellie’s curiosity piqued by the bundle you had set down atop the kitchen table, her long thin fingers slowly unwrapping it. With a nod from you, she did so completely. Her eyebrows shot up, thoughts swirling behind her keen eyes. They flicked to the back room just on the other side of the kitchen wall. Her bottom lip was taken between her teeth and she looked like she was trying not to laugh.

“I know it’s silly, but…” You couldn’t help but feel nervous admitting it out loud, that you wanted to ask Joel to take some of his sparse free time for a personal project. You poured yourself a steaming cup of the finished coffee, searching for the sugar cannister. “This has been drying for nearly a year and I was gonna ask Joel-“

“Gonna ask Joel what?” His voice sounded from the doorway into the kitchen, startling you both. You rushed to put yourself between him and the table, a poor attempt to hide the plank of wood from his curious eyes. He looked tired, no doubt having been up more than resting all last night if he had been over at Tommy and Maria’s.

Taking that as her queue to leave, Ellie bolted out the back door with a hollered goodbye.

“Oh, um. Hi,” You waved slightly at him, unsure of how he would take to coming home to his house and finding you in his kitchen. Even if Ellie had said it would be okay. You were nervous, knowing that asking for something was a tricky thing. Even if he was so willing to give to others; his time, his attention, his skills. “I ha-have this.”

Moving out of the way as he crept closer on heavy feet, you allowed him to see the olive wood you had hauled over here.

“I-I was wondering i-if you’d be able to make a set of cooking utensils out of this? But I understand if you’re too busy, or don’t want to work with the dense wood, or don’t have the time-“

"Of course, sweetheart. I’ll try my best for you." And just like that he melted all your worries away and a smile pulled at your lips.

He easily moved the chunk of wood from the kitchen to his workspace. The muscles of his arms bulging beneath his flannel, the muscles of his shoulders straining at the fabric over his broad shoulders. All for your viewing pleasure as you followed behind him. The room was smaller than you expected, on his ground floor, just down the hall from the kitchen. But it was such a reflection on who he was.

The main desk had a comfortable looking chair, thick cushion on the seat. Atop it was an open book, propped up on a few stacked behind it and open to a stunning photograph of a deer. In the center was a partially carved figurine of the deer in the photo, shavings around it and tools lined up in a half circle around the back of it.

“How many pieces did you want?” He carefully bent his knees and lowered the wood to the ground, atop a tarp that several long pieces of lumber were set on and leaning against the wall. Blocks of wood beside them and lined up against the wall almost like bricks.

“Oh, um, just however many you can manage.” The crack of his knees as he straightened worried you, but it happened to you more and more so you understood it wasn’t really painful so much as uncomfortable most of the time. 

"The cutting boards all around town...” Trailing off as a familiar scent caught your attention through the general smell of lumber, you moved toward the pile of wooden planks lined up along the wall like books atop a work table. There were many shades and types of wood, all different steps of being sanded down or stained, shavings nestled in a waste bucket beneath. Tools scattered over the surface and small cannisters of sealant and paint stacked neatly beside them. Two of the planks of wood were light, ashy and your attention honed in on them as you moved toward the table. “It was kinda my idea and I was wondering if-"

"Sweetheart, I can't make you one." You startled at the boom of his voice so close, blocking your view from the stack of them as he moved to stand in front of you. The hand that had been reaching out with the intention of caressing them fell back to your side.

"Oh, um, okay." You cast your eyes down, taking in the worn leather of his boots. Of yours. There were so many of them, easily two handfuls and yet he wasn’t willing to share one with you. But everyone else around town seemed to be worthy and you couldn’t help but wonder why you weren’t. You were friends, he had said it himself. But then…but then you had kissed him and fled.

No question as to why flowed from you. You were used to not being included, but you had to admit that it stung coming from him. In an attempt to mask it you tried to smile but you weren’t sure if it actually showed. Your chest ached, body feeling like it wasn’t yours. Like you were looking down on it as it stood in that workspace with the man who sought solace within it. Like you had intruded, and shame bubbled up for having made yourself comfortable where you shouldn’t have.

"Can't find a sealant that would hold up to those knives we found. You'd just cause damage to it."

"Okay, but-“ You tried to backtrack, to apologize for being so curious.

"No, Olive. I don't have one for you, so please quit askin'."

You didn’t say anything, your voice stuck in your throat. Turning and walking away from him without looking up, afraid to see his expression. You faintly heard his voice calling after you, but you ignored it, it was far away. It was as if you were down in a tunnel, like you had tipped over and fell down into one the second Joel had turned you down.

You wanted to move past it, to gloss over it, to stay and enjoy in the time he had been willing to give you on his one day free from responsibilities. But you couldn’t, your chest felt like it had caved in, like you were hollow, like you would never be able to break into the social graces of the settlement. Marked with the death of someone who had, someone who kept messing up and making it easy for people to turn you away.

He thinks about how hurt you looked when he tried to ward you off from the stack of cutting boards he had practiced designs on and different shapes. berating himself for being so harsh when he had been scared you would see the wood he had taken from you without your knowledge. You had been reaching for the planks made from it, drawn to them as if they were magnetized.

The way in which you had shut down, his soothing words after denying you falling on deaf ears as you turned and simply walked away from him. He had been under the impression you wanted to spend the day with him. You had been an unexpected guest but not an unwelcome one. It had been nice to return to his home to find you there, comfortable enough to have put on a pot of coffee and the errant scent of that woodsy, floral perfume that seemed to be a part of your skin from tending to the trees in your yard.

But you had just turned and walked away.

He watched you go, not liking the way you had shrunk into yourself at his denial. He had tried to be soft with it, you couldn’t know that you had been asking after the one thing he wanted to keep a secret from you. That you had given him the idea and he was practicing and making so many different prototypes all to ensure that when it came time to craft yours, that he would be able to do so easily.

He scrubbed a hand roughly over his face, sighing out as he dressed for patrol. His alarm had gone off an hour ago but he had already been awake, sleep evading him as the moment from the other day played in his mind’s eye over and over again.

Settling on the musty cushions beside you, the memory of the last time he had done so puffed up along with a cloud of dust. It had been a long day. Clearing the village and finding a place to hole up in for the night.

“I’ll take the first watch, try ‘n get some rest.” He murmured low, taking in the way you were already curling your legs up underneath your body on the other end of the couch. The scarf around your neck pulled up for you to bury your face into it, hands in their gloves and secure in the pockets of your coat.

You didn’t think you even responded, the cold of the day draining you and making sleep too alluring a respite even with the broad man beside you and all alone for the first time in a while.

Bird calls woke you up hours later, signaling the start of a new day. The warmth of sleeping was a lull to the chill you knew awaited outside, but you pressed into the bed further, burrowing even more into the lump of blankets you tended to scrunch up beside you.

But the lump shifted and your eyes flew open to find a different setting than you dark bedroom. You weren’t asleep in your bed, you were sunk into a decrepit couch and pressed into Joel’s right side, having sought out his warmth in the cold house. He was asleep too, his eyes closed despite his body still seated up with his feet resting on the ground.

You couldn’t help but rest your cheek on his shoulder, taking comfort in how close and warm he was, even if it had been an instinctual move to begin with.

He was so handsome. Beautiful. From the scar across the bridge of his nose, the one at his temple, to the freckles that littered his tan skin. Wrinkles relaxed as he slept, his plush lips parted slightly. His body sunk into the fabric where he had settled last night, long and lean. His mass so large you had shifted in your sleep to press up against him, partially on him to share the small couch and steal his warmth. His neck bent back a little as his head lulled onto the back cushions.

Your eyes roved down the strong column of his neck, catching on the way his adam’s apple jutted out and you resisted the urge to lean in and nip at it.

His hands, dear god, his hands. They were slack in his lap, his entire body completely lax as he slept slumped beside you. Veins and freckles decorated the skin, mind running with the idea of them tight around different parts of your body. How they would feel wrapped around your hips, your breasts, your neck…

You couldn’t help but reach out and lay a hand atop one of his, your palm over the back of his. Your stomach fluttered, the heat settling low. Your own hand looked so small, atop his. The difference so startling.

“Mm, good mornin’,” Joel’s gravelly rumble made you jump, realizing you had gripped two of his fingers in your hand. He jostled the hand in your grip and you felt heat flood your cheeks at being caught touching him. When you moved to take it back, he curled his fingers, catching your hand and pulling it up to his lips where he pressed his lips to the back of it. “Don’t act all shy now, sweetheart.”

You throb.

The gusset of your underwear suddenly dampens as you clench around nothing.

“I-I don’t know what came over me, you were sleeping and I shouldn’t ha-have-“ Trying to tamp down your less than friendly thoughts, the allure you felt wash over you at his sleepy timbre, to backtrack away from what could end up being another thing to have him avoiding you around the settlement.

But he surprised you, emboldened by the hazy thoughts displayed in the parting of your own lips, the heat he could feel rolling off of you, the pressure you tried to relieve between your legs with a clench of your thighs together. And then his thick, sleep coated words turned sultry, pitched low and velvet.

“Thinkin’ about my hands on ya, huh? Sweet little thing, what was it?” He guided your hand to cup his cheek and then rest against his neck. “Thinkin’ about my hands here?”

When he squeezed your hand around it, you felt faint for the way your blood was rushing and thundering loud in your ears.

“N- no.” You swallowed, voice breathy and pitched low as you struggled to find words.

“No? What about…” He moved your hand to his chest, right in the middle of his ribcage. His heart was thundering beneath the flannel, mirroring your own. “Here?”

Your breath hitched as he moved it further, not giving you the chance to answer this time. Down ,down, down past the hem of his shirt beneath his jacket to the denim of his jeans. Pressing your palm down atop the zipper, you could feel the long line of him, hot and semi-hard. It twitched at the pressure, and you couldn’t help the whimper that fell from your lips. Eyes having been dragged down along with your clasped hands.

“What about here?” His lips grazed the shell of your ear as his question was pressed close, nose brushing sensitive skin just behind it. Mustache and beard lightly scraping against you, causing you to shiver and press down your hand more firmly. He groaned out, the sound burrowing deep into you. He twitched again beneath your palm and all the air in your lungs whooshed out.

And then he was dipping his head to capture your lips in a hard kiss. His tongue trailed over the seam of your lips, and you let him in without a thought. Pleasure flared from the heat that had taken hold of your entire body, the air crackling with the need for him to be closer, to be pressed to you completely, pressed inside of you completely. Body buzzing, needing more more more from him you shift to cup his cheek with your other hand.

When he speaks next, his voice is all soft. Southern twang breathy and so close as his lips graze yours, his forehead pressed to your own. The press of hot skin only a prelude to what you hoped was more…

“Sweetheart, I-“

The sudden creak of the back door opening cut the tension of the room and your stomach filled with dread. Joel’s hands became almost painful on you as both your heads whipped around to stare at the kitchen threshold, waiting with bated breath for the intruding source to walk through it.

He was up off the couch in a second, his handgun in his palm and he stalked silently toward the kitchen, leaving you on the couch to reach for your own. But your attention was pulled to the front door of the house just as he disappeared through the threshold.

Two shadows crept into the house and your ducked down to avoid being seen immediately.

There were sounds of a scuffle in the kitchen and you took the opportunity to sneak around the couch in a crouch and stand with the gun trained on the larger figure of the two just on the other side of it.

“Drop your gun or I shoot.” You kicked his legs apart, hand patting him down as he listened to your command. He didn’t have any other weapons on him and the woman a few feet away didn’t visibly have any, her clothing tight around her middle, large jacket draping over her to keep her swollen middle warm.

You took your eyes off of her for one second to kick the gun away and behind you when she lunged. A shiny piece of something glinted in her hand and you shouted out as it cut across your own middle.

Grunting, you elbowed the man in the ribs, winding him and sending him to crumple to the ground in pain. You kicked out and wrapped your foot around one of the woman’s legs and tugged her close, ignoring the sensation of that same piece of whatever it was in her grip as it tore into your jacket sleeve.

You smacked her hand against the wall behind her, being mindful of her stomach and was about to wrap your hands around her neck when the man wheezed out a pleading cry.

“Don’t hurt her, please!” He tired to catch is breath, but you didn’t break your focus away from the woman you had pinned down. A wave of nausea rose over you, the only indication before you collapsed, blood soaking the front of your shirt in a dark, wet patch.

“Shit, I think you cut her too deep.” The man crawled over to you, his hands pressing down to try and staunch the flow. The woman fell to her knees beside him, her hands reaching out to grip one of your arms. The clatter of the weapon she had used was loud and you looked over to it. It was a piece of dirty glass.

“I-I didn’t me-mean to hurt you so badly! I’m so sorry.”

“Fuck, okay, go to my pack.” They shared a confused look, but the fact that they hadn’t run off with yours and Joel’s supplies to their remorse at hurting you told you they were good people. “Go! There’s a spare shirt, we need it to put over the wound.”

Just as she bent to dig into the pack by the couch, Joel’s quiet steps and low threat called as he entered the room.

“Get your hands off of her and step back.”

“Wait! They aren’t Infected!” You panted, voice sharp despite the effort it was taking to breath as your middle burned, knowing the man’s instincts had taken over completely. His steps measured. His gun raised. His reasoning marred by the sight of you bleeding on the floor.

“They hurt you.” His honeyed drawl gone, replaced with an air of authority that demanded attention, all dark, rich molasses sticking everyone in place.

“It was an accident, Joel, please. They…they have a baby on the way. We have to take them back.”

“That true?” He kept the shot gun aimed at the man hovering over you, the blood shining on his hands making his nerves twitch. But his eyes landed on the woman who had been rummaging through your bag for first aid supplies. She slowly stood from her crouch, revealing her swollen belly.

He ordered them both to take a seat on the couch, telling them he would deal with them once he tended to you, letting them know that he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot if they tried something. He then kneeled down on the ground beside you, one of his large hands going over yours holding the wad of fabric to your middle, the other going to cup your cheek.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” His eyes bore into you, stern edge to them. You were visibly shaking, skin looking sallow and sweat beading at your temple. He carefully moved your hands aside, eyes flicking from your pained expression to the injury as he slowly lifted the fabric you had pressed to it. And then the hem of your sweater and tank top underneath.

Lips a grim line and eyes dark as he took in the still bleeding injury. His brow furrowed deeper as a thick rivulet ran down your side to spill onto the floor and Joel cursed under his breath. The gash was a few inches long across your stomach, to the left of your belly button, rimmed and irritated red. Angry and no doubt already infected if the shard of dirtied glass abandoned beside you was any indication. Your blood stained it, the woman’s fingertips pressed into it in smeared, red marks.

“Shit, it’s already starting to get infected.”

You managed a weak nod, both in response to his question and muttered worries fighting off the tears as he pressed around the wound, trying to get a gauge of how deep it was. You held back a whimper at the prodding, bottom lip firmly between your teeth.

“Joel, there’s gau-gauze in my pack.”

“Find it and toss it to me, quick.” He raised a threatening look to the pair on the couch, their heads turned and watching everything play out. Worried that if you were to bleed out, the man wouldn’t hesitate to retaliate or leave them here to their own devices.

The woman rushed to dig into your pack once more, fingers finding the crinkling plastic wrapped around the sterile gauze. She tossed it to Joel, the hand that had moved down from your cheek to rest over your heart on your chest reached out to snag it from the air. He ripped it open with his teeth and urged your hands to hold it down atop the wound.

You could only watch through hazy eyes as he shucked off his jacket and then his flannel. With a smooth motion he removed his t-shirt, his most base layer. With his chest on full display, the dark hair over his chest and trailing down from his belly button you startled at the sound of ripping fabric. The knife he kept holstered on the back of his waist out of is sheath as he used it to cut a thick strip from the hem of his shirt. He gently urged you to lift up from the ground for him to wind it around your back and tie it securely over the wound.

Slipping two fingers below it to ensure it was tight enough to keep pressure but not overly so as to cause more problems. It felt a thousand times better already, your nausea waning as the blood stopped flowing from your body. But you would definitely need stitches and antibiotics once back inside the gates. Once he was sure the wound was okay for the moment, he took both your hands in his, a slight tremor to them. His thumbs rubbing soothingly across the backs of them.

“Okay, you’re okay,” He murmured. He leaned down to press his forehead to yours. Breathing in deep and your lashes fluttered as he sighed out. His eyes were clenched shut and he took a moment to ground himself before he pulled back and peppered chaste kisses over your face. Your forehead, each of your cheeks, the tip of your nose. The edges of your mouth.

“I’m okay,” You promised, unable to ignore how shaky his breathing was so close. A nervous giggle sounded from you, unable to tamp it down as your head swam. “But maybe you should put your clothes back on before you freeze.”

“Can’t lose you, sweetheart.” The whispered sentiment washed over you, leaving you warm and light in the chest for a completely different reason. Only when you nodded in understanding, did he reach over for his flannel and shrug it back over his broad shoulders. The buttons closed up with deft fingers as he watched you take a mental stock of your body and how it felt. You said up just as his jacket was pulled back into place over the flannel.

“Good thing ‘m not goin’ anywhere then, huh?” His wet chuckle was the only response you got before he helped you to stand. He guided you over the couch with an arm around your shoulders, silently demanding that the pair move from the cushions to make room for you. Making sure you were comfortable with both packs beside you before he turned his attention to the people who had injured you.

A nurse took you in quickly, insisting someone else would do a thorough check on the brother and sister you and Joel had brought to them once leaving the horses at the stables. The backup shirt you had taken along with you in your pack tied to your abdomen with a scrap of fabric from the bottom of Joel’s undershirt. It was better than nothing, better than bleeding out.

You had insisted that the woman, Callie carefully got up on Lowry for the trip back. Joel had been worried about them sharing a horse together, the very real possibility of them taking off on it at the forefront of his mind. But you had assured him that they could be trusted. That they could’ve taken both your packs and left you to bleed out on the floor.

That was how you had found yourself once again sharing a horse with Joel for an entire day. The feel of his body pressed close to your back so different from when he had tried to keep his distance. His hands secure around your waist and resting atop the saddle horn. You tried not to let it distract you, carrying on casual conversation with them to get a feel for who they were. Every so often, when you grunted at particularly hard hoofbeats or a rough jostle, his right hand would press against your roughly patched wound.

Stitches, the nurse had said. At least four of them.

Joel was outside the hall, waiting for you to be released. He looked up from the notepad in his hands when you exited the room, brown eyes tired. You couldn’t read his thoughts, though you were too tired to begin to think what that could mean.

“Hey, what’d they say?” He surged up, the notebook going back into his pocket, the worn fabric snug around it. He retrieved the coat and sweater he had kept for you when the nurse had asked you to remove all outer layers.

You lifted the torn tank top, allowing him to see the clean, bright white bandage that had been taped over the injury. The fait outline of stitches could be seen through it. Two of his fingers brushed against it, almost tenderly.

“No painkillers, those are only for serious cases.” You let him help you put the sweater back on, his hands holding the head opening side for you to slid it on, gently tugging the fabric into place around your sore arms. “They gave me a shot of antibiotics and a pack of fresh gauze. Gotta come in next week to get the stitches looked at.”

“I’m so sorry.” He murmured as he held the coat up for your to slip your arms into. When you turned around to face him again, he pulled you to him in a loose embrace. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“Joel, it’s okay. We’re okay. I promise.” You leaned up, mindful of the new pull on your middle, and pressed your lips to his cheek. Sighing at the soft pressure, he walked alongside you out of the building.

Since there wasn’t anything they could give you for the pain,  you just wanted to lay in bed and rest. But you also wanted to try and find a reason to get out of the house later. Swallowing down your fear of rejection, knowing he was the one person who wouldn’t do that to you, you asked him for a drink later in the evening.

But he didn’t look up from the paper in his hands as he walked out the front door with you, scribbling something down on a page that only had two previous lines of script. The chill of the wind breezing past you both as you repeated your question in slightly louder volume, sure he just hadn’t heard you. You knew he was hard of hearing in his right ear and that was the side you were on. But what you didn’t expect was his haphazard response. So at odds with the tenderness and care he had shown you throughout the day.

"Huh? Oh uh, I can't tonight. Sorry, I'll see ya, Olive." And then he's off without so much as a glance your way, leaving you standing outside the infirmary. It left you more than a little concerned, whiplash at the sudden shift from intimate, to protective, to nothing so much as a glance all from the same man.

It’s early, the sun not even showing signs of rising. Snow drifted down, a perfect morning. You were humming to yourself, mentally planning out the meals you could make. A breakfast casserole that would allow for the use of root vegetables, eggs, some of the goat cheese that had been made perhaps. You were minding your own business, enjoying the walk to the mess hall and the kitchen that would allow you to work and forget the hollow feeling that hadn’t left you all last night. It was easier feeling nothing other than the faint pull of stitches on your abdomen.

You catch a figure walking out of a front door further down the street. The figure broad but their steps light as they descended the porch to Marsha’s house.

Oh.

It was Joel.

He didn’t have a utility belt, he didn’t have a toolbox, he didn’t have anything that indicated he had been there to repair something.

It was Joel Miller, leaving Marsha’s house. Far too early to mean anything other than the fact that he had spent the night inside, with her. Guess that's why he had turned down your offer for an evening with you. He already had someone to share drinks with, someone to spend his time with.

Turning, you tried not to follow his figure as he began to walk down the street, facing away from you.

You could only think that it was because of the way you had run the other night. Because of the way you two kept giving into yearning touches only for the moment to be yanked away. Three times now, far too much trouble for someone as busy as him. Someone with a life like he led as he cared for his family and the repairs that were needed around the settlement. You were desperate, for company, for attention, for him. It must’ve not settled well with him to realize how much you wanted him and that it never seemed to work out in his favor, only friend or not.

Deep down, you knew that wasn’t the reason. He was such an understanding man, and he wouldn’t put the blame on you. But the fact of the matter was that he was willingly spending his time with Marsha.

He wasn’t sure where you had disappeared to, your house dark safe for the light over the stoop light up in a warm tone. He had a box in his hands, something he had rifled through his, Ellie’s, and Tommy’s homes for to fit the finished set of wooden utensils you had asked him to make.

He had taken his time, sneaking glances at the ones in your kitchen when he dropped you off after patrol one morning and you offered him a light lunch. You had made grilled sandwiches, pairing them with some steamed vegetables that were beginning to wilt in the cold air of the house. You ran the heat on a good middle range, to ensure it didn’t get too stuffy and begin to take a toll on the record collection in the living room or the books you kept on every surface and crammed lovingly into the many bookshelves you had.

You seemed to favor spoons, though he did catch sight of a few rather flat spatulas. He had inspected the wood thoroughly before he even thought of measuring it. Admiring the way the dried wood looked and taking notes down on the pad of paper he kept on him at all times. Compared it to the two planks he had, noting the different feel and heft of them versus the completely dry specimen you had brought to him.

He let his thoughts wander as he took a seat on the cold concrete steps of your stoop. Opting to wait for your return for a few moments, hoping that you would return soon as evening had fallen, the set having set a few hours ago. He didn’t recall you mentioned evening shifts at the mess hall, opting for the mornings that you enjoyed. Something about the quiet of the town, less lonely than the nights, had been a quiet admittance. He had been too shocked to respond, you must’ve taken his silence as the end of the conversation. You had turned quiet alongside him, the only sound for the rest of the route back to the gates had been the hooves along the ground.

It struck him now, that you had been admitting even early on how lonely you were. How the town choosing to not interact with you had hurt, had been hurting you. A warning even then, that you were sensitive to the dynamic and went along with it even if you didn’t agree with it. You were such a lovely person. Kind hearted, giving, caring, and he loathed that people like Marsha perpetuated the agenda against you.

She was relentless in her attention on him and he was getting a little annoyed with it. But he was being cordial, the exact word you had used to describe the woman. He had finished the last of her shelving the other day. He had worked overnight to get it fitted and fastened to the wall. Securing it with bolts and weight holding supports, wanting to be done with the project that had been more of a coercion of his skills. She was a manipulator and he had played into her hands just like she had wanted.

He felt like a fool, knowing he had agreed to do it for your sake and out of a need to protect you.

Then he realized there were two people who allowed you into their lives. That spoke fondly of you, invited you to dinner, allowed you shares of what they could get the last of in down on main street.

Standing, he hoped to find you among his family. Making his way his way to Tommy’s, Maria was the one to answer the door. A finger to her lips to signal him to keep quiet as she slipped out the door to join him on the porch.

“They’re both sleeping, it took an hour to get him down and then of course Tommy slumped over.” She didn’t seem upset, but the news allowed for Joel to realize you weren’t here either. Clocking his silence and the box in his hand, she cocked her head up a little to examine his features. “Everything okay, Joel? Olive didn’t pull her stitches already, did she?”

“Yeah, everythin’ is okay. I’m actually looking for her. Have you seen her today?” He shuffled on his feet, aware of how they ached as the cold settled in to stay for the season.

“She’s at the bar, came by with dinner for us on her way out.” Maria explained, watching his closely. Able to pick up on his agitation. It was odd when she compared it to the almost forces nonchalance you had exhibited earlier.

“Can you hold onto this for me, I’ll be back to get it tomorrow.” He thrusted the box into the woman’s hands and was making off down the street before she could even respond.

The bar is a cacophony of sounds, of laughter, of conversation, the clink of glasses being lifted and then placed back on tables. The gurgle of more drinks being poured, of ice tinkling in glasses, all of it was so nice to just sit in and enjoy. Even if you were alone on your stool.

"Another round?" You disguised the clenching of your hand around your empty glass, the voice right behind you. His voice, the charming drawl pitched low and so so close.

“I don’t think we should be drinking with each other.” You shifted away from him, not wanting him to think you were open to spending time with him after his rejection, after his secret of seeing Marsha was exposed to you in the form of his leaving her house far too early for any reason than having stayed the night, for the way you had wanted to say yes to spending time with him but it hurt too much. For the way that it was getting harder and harder to resist the urge to lean up and kiss him, to run your hand down his arm or back in a soothing caress. “I’m waiting for someone.”

His brow furrowed as he regarded you, lifting his drink to his lips and taking a deep pull from the amber liquid inside. He sat down atop the stool beside you despite your words. His glass settled on the bar top, now empty. Your eyes were focused on the melting ice, not able to look at the man who was giving you his attention.

“What’s that?” He huffed, almost chuckled as he believed you were just joking, teasing him like you tended to do sometimes while out on patrol. But you weren’t, both of you seated at the long bar of the Tipsy Bison on the main street in town. When you still didn’t raise your eyes to him, he realized you weren’t, that you were turning him down and away.

“Tell me the real reason,” He leaned close, pivoting the seat of the stool so you faced him. Your insides whooshed with the movement. With the way he demanded your attention, with the entirety of his focus on you almost breaking your resolve to remain professional. Aware of all the eyes constantly watching you, judging you; all the eyes on him constantly watching for entirely different reasons, fawning over him.

“Because I like you.” You admitted, unable to deny him the truth. You could only lift your eyes as high as his lips, which was a mistake as you recalled the feel of them. They were so soft, so plush and you never had the chance to gently nip at his bottom one…

“Well, I like you too, Olive.” His nose brushed your cheek, moving impossibly close, his thumbs digging into your thighs as he held to the stool.

“No, I like you, Joel. And this isn’t a good idea.” You pulled back, aware that you were both in a very public place. That the looks focused on you both, your intimacy, combined with soft murmurs of voices that could be saying anything. Making notions in their minds that he was associated with you, that he spent time with you enough to feel comfortable engaging in this type of behavior. And that was bad, it was so bad for people to associate him with you. It would cause people to question him after everything he did for the town. It would begin to erase all the good he had provided.  “Joel, people are looking.”

“Don’t worry about them, just focus on me.” Your eyes snapped to his, taking in the way the brown of them was alight from the sconces around the bar. There was no hesitancy in them, no remorse. Only adoration and your stomach swooped, your heart fluttered. But you tried your best to resist.

“That’s not a good idea either.” You whispered.

“You thinkin’ of doin’ somthin’ to me?”

“M-maybe.” The admittance rolls off your tongue, his lips close enough that he can taste it.

“Sweetheart, I’d let ya if that’s what you wanted.”

“N-no.” It took everything in you to deny him, to deny the tension that pulled your muscles tight in every part of your body.

“No?” He leaned back, taking your words and heeding them, sensing that you meant them, even if it was a stuttered, breathy response.

“I don’t want to, I mean I do, but- this” You motioned between the two of you, how little space there was between your bodies. His body pivoted toward you and his hands still partially around the denim of your thighs. “Isn’t a good idea.”

His eyes roamed over you, seeing the nerves and truth of your demeanor. You did like him, and it was becoming a problem. He didn’t need a younger woman fawning over him, the friendly rapport riddled with holes. Of temptations that were tamped down by his unwillingness to share his craft with you, the time he had been spending with Marsha, the pull of his attention in so many directions, especially with the holiday hurtling toward the town tomorrow.

“We’re hardly friends, Miller. You barely started acknowledging me outside of patrol.” You reached for your drink so you’d be less likely to cup his face in your hands and throw caution to the wind.

“What makes you think I haven’t been tryin’ to keep my hands to myself, bein’ around you?” His voice tipped low, to avoid being overheard despite the closeness he had initiated. Closing your eyes at the visual, you shook you head as your throat bobbed with the sip you had taken from your drink.

“Because you don’t like me that way.” You scoffed, beginning to lean away from him. “You didn’t even get me anything for the holiday…You’re with Marsha.”

“Didn’t get your name in swap.”

“Oh.” And all the fight you had in you crumbled at his simple words. The reassurance in his voice that drowned out the hum of the environment all around you.

“But I thought - Ellie was asking so many questions I figured she was doin’ the work for you.”

“Maybe she got you?” He tapped the lip of his glass as the bartender wandered close, signaling for another when the man got the chance. His hand going back to your leg in a second.

“N-no. She got Jesse. Whoever got me most likely tossed the scrap of paper and picked another.”

“Marsha and I are just friendly, it’s nothing beyond that. Olive, I swear to –“

Someone cleared their throat unnervingly close. You both turned away from each other to face the person who had decided to break the currents flowing between your bodies, tension thick in the air with their approach.

Marsha. With a wrapped gift in her hand and a yearning look for Joel. Her attention solely on him.

“So much for just being friendly, huh, Miller?” You set your drink down, glass nearly empty and pushed off from your stool. The drag of his large hands over the tops of your thighs not registering as you quickly took off. Leaving him to the woman who seemed to be a constant companion as of late. Better company for him, you though begrudgingly as you made your way through the snow-covered streets and back to the safety of your home.

Sighing, you picked up the wrapped bundle of recipe cards. Joel’s gift.

The one you had spent hours pouring over, making sure your writing was neat and legible, the cursive loops delicately over the lines on the thick cardstock. You had debated whether or not he would be able to read the script, knowing how he squinted at certain things. No doubt needing glasses in his older age, an item you always kept a keen eye out for should it end up being a perfect match for him.

Your heart panged, the fleeting image of him tucked in bed beside you with a book or manual in his hands and a pair of reading glasses perched on his aquiline nose. His scruff catching the light of a soft bedside lamp and the silver sparkling. His curls damp from an evening shower, the scent of him so clean and pure beside you as you lay tucked in the other side. It hurt. It hurt to think you would never get to experience that, experience him in every simple, mundane way.

With a long-suffering huff, you reached for some of the dried leaves you kept from the trees when you last preened them. Fastening it to the top of the bundle with a piece of twine. You don’t write Joel’s nor yours. He would know it was from you from the writing inside, from the olive twig. A parting gift, you guessed.

This would be the last thing you would offer him before drawing back to your solemn life. He had brought color and life and laughter into it, but the hurt wasn’t worth it. Your heart and body aching for a man who had too much to lose.

You faintly heard soft voices trailing along the dark streets, the light fixtures doing their best to illuminate the way for any one who was out at the late hour. The sky dark with the added overcast that hadn’t waned during the day. Making everything feel pressed down and low, condensing the world to make it feel almost suffocating. Snow soft as it descended. Maybe it was just you, sensitive to the weather and things around you in your anxiety as you turned down the street Joel’s house was nestled on. Just as you turned the corner, feet scuffing on the weathered gravel packed down to create solid paths in the broken asphalt you collided with something hard and lost your balance. The built up snow making it hard to catch yourself.

The scrunch of paper you had wrapped the gift in was loud, ripping at the drag of thick fabric that made up someone’s coat. The index cards fly up into the air as you landed heavily on your side. Through the sounds of the fluttering paper, there was a gasp pitched high that gave way to delirious giggles and a grunt pitched low. Your own indignant noise floating amidst it all, the pull of your stitches uncomfortable.

“My apologies, didn’t see you the- Olive?”

You had run into Joel’s broad back, his front now facing you as the cards rained down to scatter all over the corner. Snow dampening them instantly upon contact, blurring the ink you had taken the time to put down to them.

Behind him was a bright-eyed Marsha, her hands holding tight to one of his. She looked flushed, no doubt from the drinks she had indulged in, leaning heavily into him. And Joel…he looked shocked as he stared down at your fallen form. Either unaware or uncaring of how the woman he was with tried to burrow into his side.

They had been the ones whose voices you heard. But what had they been doing just standing still in the middle of the street….and then it hit you. They had probably been kissing or sharing in casual touches as they walked back from the bar to one of their homes for the evening and your stomach lurched, dropping out from under you.

Joel detached from her, intending to reach down and help you back up. But you didn’t want him touching you with the same hands that had been soft just an hour ago, the same hands that had been touching her with the same intent.

“Don’t!”

“Just tryin’ to help you up,” He backed off immediately, his eyes alert, not used to you raising your voice nor the heat behind your tone. Especially toward him, the hurt making you unable to tamp it down to a polite tone. Tears burned behind your own eyes, in your throat. The perfect match to your insides feeling like they have just been set in a mixer.

“Don’t need your help,” You pushed up from the ground, legs tingling as you fought the urge to run from the awkward and tense scene. And then you realized you could. You did.

Leaving the two alone in the middle of the street, surrounded by white spots of paper all around, the wrapping that had been around them crumpled on the ground. The dried olive leaves that had been fastened to it with twine lay abandoned at their feet.

You ran all the way back to your house, the front door slamming behind you and the lock loud in the silence that followed. Your back thumped against the wood of it, sliding down until your bottom hit the floor.

And you let yourself break down, crying into your hands. Hating how you had begun to believe that your life was going to change, that Joel was going to be something good in your life. And deep down, underneath all the hurt and anger, you still believed he was. Even if he wasn’t meant to be anything other than a patrol partner.

previous chapter || next chapter

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune

taglist: @merz-8 @morning-star-joy @joelsgreys @orcasoul @sawymredfox @sabmat @dreamingofleon @keylimebeag @pascalpvnk @picassopedro @tuquoquebrute @alejaa-a @jessthebaker @littlemisspascal @joeloverture @joelscruff @swiftispunk @tightjeansjavi @undercoverpena @idontknowyou-12345 @corazondebeskar @honeyedmiller @novas-dreamworld @slugz-writes-shit @fluff-lover @hiroikegawa @dugiioh @persephone-girl @furiousmushroom @communism-bitches @formulafun @copperhalfcent @lizlil @hiddenbabynyc @ohhellotherebumblebee

[recuira]

after hours

after hours : a live action buggy x fem!reader fanfiction

for some odd reason, you have no idea who he is. and he fucking loved that.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

chapter one

chapter two | red. rain. rotten.

his pov;

She was standing underneath a stripe-patterned banner that shielded her from the pouring rain. Her nimble fingers sorted through an assortment of fruits, trying to decide which were the ripest and tastiest of the bunch. Of course, she was by herself, with none of her peers or family around her. I knew she was close to them. But why must she always be alone?

The tan-suede coat I wore protected me from the cold, keeping my body somewhat warm. My gloves and hands were stuffed in my pockets as I peeked around the corner and watched the girl shop. I noticed her begin to shiver, which I dreaded. I was so selfish. I didn't need this coat. I've spent countless nights in the cold, the crashing waves of the East Blue only intensifying the breeze. I was almost immune to the cold, but her? Y/N's nose was reddening as her teeth shattered. Was any fruit worth suffering in the cold? A devil fruit, maybe. But even then, it wasn't worth it. "Y/N," I smiled as I approached the maiden. The girl's head rose as she picked up an apple then her body twisted, her eyes growing wide upon the sight of myself. She nearly jumped. "How-" She shook her head. "Are you following me?" Her voice and body shook. Yes. "No, of course not," I laughed, brushing the accusation off my shoulders as I took a few more steps toward her, closing the wide gap. "I was looking for something to eat and I spotted you. Am I not allowed to say hello?" Guilt was something I was tremendous at. Y/N still seemed skeptical but after a slight sigh, she smiled and nodded her head. "No, forgive me. I'm sorry. Uh," She turned her attention to the apple she was holding then let it drop among the others crowding in a small basket. "None of these apples look good."

"They've been sitting out for a while. The shop clerk doesn't take the best care of his fruits. It's why they're so cheap," I chuckled to myself and reached down to grab an apple. I twisted it and examined a large brown spot that was eating away at the once-bright red color. I huffed, "I'm sure you can find something else to eat."

"I can't afford anything else to eat."

My eyes widened and I took a step back, visibly and internally shocked. What? She couldn't afford to eat anything other than a rotten apple? "Why?"

"It's a long story," Y/N admitted. "But I don't wanna talk about it." The girl sorted through found one that looked reasonable, and started to dig in her pocket. She pulled out nothing. "Never mind, I can't even afford that." Letting out a pitiful laugh, she dropped the fruit. I frowned. Her absence of money was one of the few things I didn't know about her. And now that I was aware of it, I felt a puzzling and aggressive feeling in my stomach. Was she out of work? Did she not have any way of providing for herself? Raising my hand, I grabbed at my chin and scratched the bottom of it. "Let me buy you something to eat."

"What?" Her eyes widened and she immediately shook her head, waving her hands as a type of rejection. "You are not buying me anything."

"It's just lunch. It's no biggy," I remarked. "At least something small."

"Why?" She folded her arms over her chest. "Do you feel sorry for me? First, you see me getting picked on by some slob, and now, you see that I'm too poor to afford a rotten apple. What's next?"

"Y/N, knock it off. Stop. Just think of it as a friend doing something nice for their friend."

The questioning look remained stuck on her face as she stared up at me. I tried to maintain a serious expression though the look she was giving me made my lower lip purse, like a pout. How was someone so enchanting? I continued to stare into her eyes, making quick glimpses to explore her other facial features before she finally made a decision. "Fine, but just this once, okay?" "You got it." I winked. -=- Being the gentleman I am, I loaned Y/N my coat to wear despite her dismay and numerous declines. She was pouty the entire walk to the pub but I didn't care. I'd rather her in a pissy mood than feeling physically uncomfortable due to the rain. I, however, was shivering. I was starting to become drenched. I held a newspaper over my head in hopes of staying dry but the wind was strong and the rain was forceful, almost piercing through the thin paper.

When we arrived at the restaurant, she found herself a seat in the corner of the establishment, scooting far into the booth. I followed behind her, sitting on the edge of the seat. I'd rather her be sitting across from me than rather to the side but due to her current emotional state, I stayed quiet and slid her the menu. "Get whatever you want, alright? I mean it."

"Are you a man of money?"

"Something like that," I snickered and ducked my head down to examine the options.

"Have you killed anyone before?" Y/N asked as she folded her arms over the table, her eyes peering at me.

I furrowed my eyebrows and let out a soft laugh. "No," I lied. "I'm not like that. I wasn't that type of pirate."

"What kind of pirate were you?"

"What kind of pirates do you think there are?"

"I don't know," She said as she pursed her lips. "I don't like pirates."

I nodded, unsure of a proper reply. I didn't like lying to her. I was fine with lying, in general. I was the master of conniving and deception. But I wanted to be different for her. Maybe a better person, though that seemed a bit rash. I left the East Blue after discovering that Monkey D- or whatever his name was received a higher bounty than me. Double my own, to be precise. My normally high and mighty ego dropped down and was smooshed by a brick. I didn't want to show my face again, at least not for a while. I wanted somewhat of a fresh start. And when I discovered my presence in the North Blue was dim and almost non-existent, I decide to settle down and refresh.

Then I discovered her.

And my plans completely changed.

"Do you know what you're getting?" Y/N's voice interrupted my thoughts and I raised my head and peaked up at her, smiling softly.

"Hm, not too sure yet," I replied.

"Are you cold? You look cold. You can have your coat back, it's--"

"Nah, keep it. It looks better on you," I said with a grin. I reached for a napkin and started to dab at my forearms, trying to dry myself off. The lovely woman aside of me frowned and stayed quiet. I could tell she felt guilty, which, of course, wasn't my intention. So in hopes of brightening up the mood, I decided to tell a joke.

"What's a pirate's favorite type of exercise?"

Y/N smirked and scrunched her eyebrows. "What?" She laughed.

"The plank."

Her hand slapped over her mouth in hopes of keeping her loud giggles and snickers to a minimum but the more she proceeded to think about it, the more laughs she erupted. My face reddened. I glanced around me, noticing that every other patron and pirate were staring directly at us. Gulping, I reached forward and pulled her hand down from her mouth. "Come on, stop. It's not that funny."

"It's stupid, that's why it's funny!" She continued to cackle as she threw herself over the table, clutching her stomach. A smile crawled on my face, not a painted one. Hearing her laugh, while for no reason, was a beautiful sound. And seeing her laugh? That was even better. I rested my chin in my hand and watched her, smiling to myself. When she finally calmed down, she wiped tears from her eyes. Her face was stained red. "Gosh, I am so sorry," She sighed, shaking her head. "I needed that, thank you."

"It's no problem," I said as I dropped my menu.

Due to the lack of laughter, a waiter finally arrived and took our orders.

"I'll have a slice of apple pie, please. With a cup of milk," Y/N smiled up at the waiter as she read off from the menu.

I raised an eyebrow. Dessert?

"Then after that, I'll have the fish and chips. But I want the pie first, please. Not after." She announced and she folded her menu, sliding it forward. She smiled at me.

I looked at her, completely confused. "Uhm," I looked back to the waiter, "I'll just have a cup of coffee."

Now, Y/N was looking at me, confused.

The waiter nodded and left. "Hey," Y/N started. "Why aren't you eating? I thought you were on your way to get something to eat?"

"I'm not hungry. Plus I doubt you'll finish all of that. I might pick on your leftovers," I said with a grin then I started to munch on the small bowl of peanuts that sat in the middle of the table. "What's up with the apple pie though?"

"I like to eat my dessert before my food because that's what I'm looking forward to," She hummed as she leaned back in her seat. "What if during our meal, we are stormed by a group of pirates and killed at gunpoint? Or a sea snake comes and eats us whole?"

"Ha! What?"

"It's unlikely but it's possible. And I'd like to die knowing I was able to get to the good part of my meal." She wagged her finger at me.

"You make a good point there."

"I know," The girl said with a satisfied grin.

I chuckled and sat back, drumming my gloved fingers on the edge of the table. A thought pondered my mind but I didn't know whether to act on it or not. I wanted to, but I didn't want to overstep any boundaries. I felt Y/N and I were moving forward with our relationship if there was one. We were talking, enjoying a meal together. I made her laugh. She admitted a quirk about herself to me. I felt there was good progress. But I wanted more. I was an impatient man. And the fact that it took five months for me to finally talk to her, despite her initiating the conversation, was surprising. I was eager to get what I wanted. And Y/N was the only thing my mind and heart could agree on.

But the fighting halves of my brain finally settled and I rested my arm over the top of the booth, leaning back. "So, uh, earlier you said you needed to laugh? How so?"

"It's a long story," She mumbled, shrugging her shoulders.

"I've got no places to be, I have time," I said as I cracked a peanut open, discarding of the shells on an unfolded napkin. I watched as she began to grow uneasy with the topic but I was desperate to want to know what was the issue. Why was she stressing her pretty little head? I frowned. "Come on, talk to me. We aren't friends, I'm a stranger to you, no? Who am I gonna talk to or tell?"

"You make a good point," Y/N sighed and leaned forward, raising her hand to scratch at the back of her neck. "It's just- I don't know, it's a lot. I haven't talked to anyone about it."

“Why not?”

“Because it’s something I’m not proud of.”

What could someone as sweet and fragile as she has done that was such an awful deed?

“What is it?” I tossed a peanut into my mouth.

“Well, I was young when it all happened. But when Gold Roger announced the One Piece before he died, my dad was one of the stupid pirates who thought he could have a shot at finding it,” She announced as her eyes rolled and she started to chew on my inner cheek. “My mom kept telling him to knock it off and stop living in a fantasy but he set off, determined to find it. I haven’t seen him in fifteen years. But this came to me a few days ago,” The girl dug her hand into her pocket, rummaging around before she pulled out a crumpled piece of coffee-stained paper. She rolled the ball toward me.

I looked at her then back down at the paper ball. I reached forward and grabbed it, raising an eyebrow. Unfolding it, I smoothed the paper against the table and started to allow my eyes to trail over the letter.

‘Y/N,

It is with great sorrow that I write you this letter. I wish you the best in your youth and I hope you amount to incredible things, such as creating a new destiny for you and your mother. I am sorry I wasn’t able to be a better father for you. Greed is distasteful. I won’t see you again. At the time of writing this, I will be long gone. But please, do me one thing: never stop smiling.

I love you, kiddo.

Love, Dad’

I clenched my jaw and looked back up at her. “Damn, that is a lot.”

“I told you,” She whispered as she tore the paper out of my hands, crunched it into a ball, and then shoved it back into her pants. “I didn’t think he’d be dead. Not this soon. My parents had me when they were young. And to think that my dad died doing something everyone warned him of. It’s horrible. It haunts my mind every day,” She frowned, her eyes tearing up. “Do I write back?”

“Do you have things you wish to say to him?”

“So much. But if he’s dead, then there’s nothing I can say, right?” Y/N rubbed at her nose and took a deep breath as she looked up, her hands waving in hopes of drying her tears. “God, I hate crying.”

“Maybe just write your heart out. Say everything you wish you could say to him. Then seal it in a bottle and toss it into the sea,” I suggested. I looked down at my gloved hand and hesitating, I reached forward and took hold of her small hand. I gave it a tight squeeze. “What do you want to say?”

“How I hate him for abandoning me and my mother but I still love him because he’s my father,” Y/N murmured, the rest of her words muffling as her lower lip quivered. She broke down in a fit of sobs as tears ran down her gorgeous face. I swallowed, never knowing how to react when someone cried. As a child, I hated to be touched whenever I was upset. I wondered if she was the same way. “I don’t know, I don’t,” She repeated as she buried her face in her hands.

I looked around the bar, nervous that others were watching this scene. First the obnoxious laughter and now this? Her emotions were spiraling.

“Hey,” I whispered, my thumb rubbing along her wrist. “Let's say we get the food to go and I’ll take you back home. Eat where you feel comfortable and so you can properly feel your emotions.”

“Huh?” She raised her head, the light mascara that accentuated her eyelashes, now dripping down her cheeks.

“I’m going to go tell the chef to wrap your meal up. Then I’ll take you home,” I continued and I raised my free hand, snapping my fingers to signal we needed assistance. “But don’t worry, I’ll turn around when you walk inside.” I cocked a smile but the comment remained unheard as she continued to cry.

I finally found a waiter and instructed him that we were taking the meal to go. He looked at Y/N with a concerned look but I told him she was alright. But I didn't even know that.

On the walk back to her place, I think I managed to get her to calm down. My hand rubbed at her back as she dipped her head in her hands. I guided her through crowds, instructing her on where to go since her eyes were covered and swollen with tears. A small frown fell on my face despite the red-painted smile I wore so proudly. The face paint I wore was smeared and dripping due to the rain from before. It was continuing to rain but not nearly as frequent and hard as earlier.

I had no idea she was this emotional. It made me feel guilty, even though, as far as I knew, I had nothing to do with why she was crying so much. I hated seeing her so sad. Normally, if it were anyone else apart from her, ridiculing would be my goal. I never cry. Pirates don't cry. But my nose burned with an odd sensation as I helped her up the staircase to her small, run-down building. I blinked rapidly and the feeling went away. Letting out a sigh, I gave Y/N a pat on the back and informed her that we were finally home. Her head raised from the confines of her hands and she revealed a wet, red face with strands of her hair sticking to her skin. A frown stayed on my face. I pulled my hand from her back and dropped the takeaway down on the doorstep. I clenched my teeth together and watched as she fumbled to push the door open. "Here," I whispered, using my foot to nudge it open. It gave way, revealing a disorderly room with an unkempt bed and a woman sleeping under the sheets. It was probably her mother.

"Thank you," Y/N finally spoke, her voice croaking. "I appreciate it, honestly. I'm sorry for ruining your meal."

"Don't apologize. Things are fine. Go eat then get some rest, alright?"

"Yeah, okay." She rubbed her nose and nodded her head. "I'll see you around." Her body twisted and she hunched over to grab the uneaten food. She stepped inside.

"Y/N," I started, stopping her in her steps. She turned around. As I dug through my pocket, I pulled out a few berries, placing them in the palm of her hand. "Take these, okay? It's not a lot but, it should last you a little while."

"What?" She looked in her hand, shaking her head. "Buggy, no, I can't accept this. This is too much."

"Come on, take it. It's okay. You need it more than I do."

"But this is like," She counted the bills in her hands, "forty-three hundred berries... Are you completely sure?"

"Yes, I am," I said with a smile.

"I'm going to pay you back for this, I promise."

"No need."

"No, I want to. Please. I won't take this unless you allow me to repay you for this. Okay?" She slipped the money into her pocket, wiped her palm on the side of her pants, then held it out. "Deal?"

Chuckling to myself, I nodded my head. "Deal." I shook her hand. "Now, come on, go eat. I don't want to take any more of your time."

"Okay, okay," The beautiful girl agreed with a large grin, which was a much better sight than her crying. "Buggy, thank you. Thank you so much." And with those words, she stepped back, gave me a quick wave and a sincere grin, then shut the creaky wooden door behind her.

The sound of the door shutting nearly made me jump. And when I realized I was left all alone, the same sensation in my nose appeared. I gulped and walked down the stairs, now standing on a wooden dock. I hugged my arms and my eyes widened.

Y/N still had my coat.

[mortaswriting]

Chapter 1: First Meeting

this is a #ghoulcy au with the plot of silence of the lambs

Beginning

Lucy MacLean is standing in front of an office. As she enters, she comes face to face with Davey, the agent in charge of the unit she has been assigned to. Upon looking at him, she notices that he has a haunted and restless expression.

Lucy: Good morning, Mr. Ruey.

Davey: I apologize for pulling you out of your training so early... there's a job that came up, and I thought of you. It's not exactly a job, it can be seen as a special assignment...

He hands Lucy a stack of papers (a dossier). Upon opening the dossier, she is confronted with a horrifying image: the brutalized body of a flayed woman.

Davey: We're trying to interview all the serial killers currently in custody for a psychocomp behavioral profile. Most of them were happy to do it... they enjoy boasting about their "works of art." Are you easily frightened, Lucy?

Lucy: Not yet. She said lightheartedly, trying to dispel the heavy atmosphere that had settled in the room.

Davey: I want you to go after someone who hasn't been cooperating much. I need you to go back to the asylum and find him.

Lucy remains silent. For a few seconds, her features appear clouded, and then her face is taken over by a haunted expression.

"The Ghoul, The Cannibal?"

Lucy quickly tries to calm herself down and push away the horror.

"Okay, I can do this."

Davey: I don't expect him to talk to you. We've tested it for a long time, but we couldn't get anything out of him. Howard was a brilliant psychiatrist, he knows all the tricks, he can manipulate you without you even realizing it. So you must be very careful with him.

After finishing giving all the instructions, Lucy headed to the Vault State Hospital for the Criminally Insane.

There, she had a far from admirable conversation with Dr. Chet, who was flirting with her the whole time. He was an extremely unpleasant individual. In the end, he explained all the rules to her, about staying away from the glass, not taking anything Cooper tries to pass, and most importantly, not falling for his tricks.

Dr. Chet and Lucy went through several corridors and descended several stairs until they reached a hallway. Chet said his goodbyes and let her go alone to the psychiatrist's cell.

She walked through a hostile corridor, where several deranged killers lived, a few cells before reaching Cooper Howard's.

Suddenly, a strange figure rushes towards her in the second-to-last cell, their face grotesquely pressing against the bars as they hiss,

"I c-can smell your cunt."

Lucy shudders for a moment but quickly resumes walking down the dark hallway.

Gradually, she reaches Cooper Howard's cell. He starts to appear slowly. The cell is protected by a glass that seems difficult to break (she hopes that's true). Lucy stops at a comfortable distance and introduces herself.

"Dr. Howard, my name is Lucy MacLean. May I speak with you?"

Howard is leaning against his bunk, wearing white pajamas and holding an Italian Vogue magazine. A face long deprived of sunlight, almost faded, except for the bright eyes and the moist, red mouth. He gently rises, crossing over to stand before her: the gracious host. His voice is cultured and soft.

"Good Morning," he said, with a warm smile.

LUCY: "I want to ask for your help with a questionnaire."

DR. HOWARD: You're one of Davey's, I presume.

LUCY: Yes, I am.

DR. HOWARD: May I see your credentials?

Lucy is surprised but takes her ID card out of her bag and shows it to him for inspection. He smiles gently.

DR. HOWARD: Closer, please... closer.

She complies each time, trying to hide her fear. Dr. Howard's nostrils flare as he gently, like an animal, tests the air. Then he smiles, looking at her card.

"Agent MacLean. Please, have a seat."

She sits on the folding metal chair. He politely waits until she settles, then takes a seat and gazes at her with delight.

DR. HOWARD: Now, then. What did Hueys say to you?

(She is intrigued) "Multiple Hueys," in the next cell. He hissed at you. What did he say?

LUCY: He said, "I can smell your cunt."

DR. HOWARD: I see. I myself cannot. You use Evyan skin cream and sometimes wear L'Air du Temps, but not today. You brought your best handbag, didn't you?

"Yes."

A pause, then Lucy takes the questionnaire out of her briefcase.

LUCY: Dr. Howard, please consider--

DR. HOWARD: No, no, no. You were doing well, Sweetheart. You were polite and receptive to courtesy, established trust with the embarrassing truth about Hueys, and now this...

"I'm just asking you to take a look at it, doctor."

She hands him the questionnaire on the sliding food tray. He stands up, looks at it, flipping through a page or two dismissively.

DR. HOWARD: Oh, Sweetie... do you think you can dissect me with this little blunt tool?

"No. I just hoped for your expertise."

Suddenly, he throws the tray back at her with a metallic CLANG. It startles her. His voice continues to be a pleasant purr.

DR. HOWARD: You're so ambitious, aren't you...? Do you know how you come across to me, with your fancy handbag and cheap shoes? You look like a hick. A well-groomed, restless hick, with a taste... Good nutrition has given you some bones, but you're not more than a generation away from poor white trash, Agent MacLean...? That accent you tried so desperately to shed from pure West Virginia.

Each of his words hits her like a small, precise dart.

"You see a lot, Dr. Howard. But are you strong enough to point that powerful perception towards yourself? How about this...? Look at yourself and write the truth."

(She throws the tray back at him) Or maybe you're just afraid.

DR. HOWARD: You're tough, aren't you?

DR. HOWARD: Well, you're far from ordinary, Lucy MacLean. All you have is the fear of it.

Now, please excuse me. Good day.

LUCY: And the questionnaire...?

DR. HOWARD: Once, a census taker tried to test me. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti. Go back to school, little MacLean.

He takes a step back and then returns to his bed, becoming still and distant like a statue. Frustrated, Lucy hesitates, finally puts her bag on her shoulder, and walks away, leaving the questionnaire on the tray. But after just a few steps, as she passes by Hueys' cell, she sees that creature in his bars again, hissing at her.

HUEYS: I bit my wrist to make it bleeeddd!

S-see how it bleeedddss?

The dark figure suddenly throws the palm of his hand towards her, and it splatters on her face and neck, not with blood, but with pale droplets of semen. She lets out a small cry, touching her fingers to the wetness. Stunned, almost in tears, she forces herself to straighten up and move forward, searching for a tissue. From behind her, Dr. Howard shouts, very agitated.

"Agent MacLean... Agent MacLean!"

Lucy slows down, stops. She trembles but makes the difficult choice to turn around, go back, stand in front of someone again.

Dr. Howard, who is trembling with anger. For a moment, his face opens up, and we catch a glimpse of hell itself. Then he composes himself again.

"The discourtesy is unimaginably ugly to me."

Lucy: "So please, take this test for me."

"No. But I will make you happy... Lucy MacLean."

"What is this, Dr. Howard?"

Before Cooper can say anything, the guards flood the room to separate Lucy from the glass.

"Approach that glass, and your visitation authorization will be revoked, Agent MacLean."

Lucy storms out through the doors of the sanatorium, and just as she arrived, she leaves, without answers. She decides she will drive to her hotel room where she intends to sleep for the next few hours.

But instead, she spends the rest of the night thinking about Cooper Howard.

[myfandomprompts]

𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟖

Summary: Dire times calls for dire action. You try to get your daughter back, Aemond tries to cope with it.

Warnings: Angst, mention of cruelty

A/N: I can already announce that this fic will have thirtyish chapters, more or less. Regarding travelling times and distance, I chose to remain vague, but please don't think about it too hard. It is only for the story to go more smoothly!

Masterlist (Part 27 - Part 29)

You had to face it: you needed help.

The more you rode into the early morning, Adrian Tarbeck at your side, the more you thought about it, and came to the inevitable and only conclusion that made sense: there was a very few people that came into the top of your head and that could have taken your daughter for their own interest, or rather, had kidnapped the Kinslayer’s child to hold something against him. And those suspects were dangerous.

Your suspicions were confirmed once the men Ser Tarbeck had sent ahead came back with the sound of thundering hooves, visibly out of breath from their uninterrupted ride.

“Ser! We had sighted the fugitives north of here!”

Adrian and yourself kicked your mounts’ flanks to meet them under a great oak tree, eager to hear more.

“What of it? Where are they heading? Why are you here instead of pursuing them?”

“Had we advanced further, we would have come directly into an ambush, the Rivermen are everywhere north of here, or what is left of them at least. We lost them in the woods. We believed that they had a baby with them.”

“Why didn’t you follow them regardless?!” you yelled at them, making one of them widen his eyes in genuine fright, but a wave of hand from Adrian made him report his attention on him.

“Where did you lose them exactly?”

“Beyond one of the affluents of the Nera, near Stony Sept. We could not go further,” answered one of the scouts. “In their haste, they dropped this.”

He extended his hand to show an odd-looking fabric, ripped in half and banal looking at first glance. But not to you.

“What is it? The crest is unreadable,” remarked Adrian, turning it over.

“This is no crest. It’s a sigil,” you darkly spoke.

They all looked at you stunned. You remembered the harsh sand, the deadly sun and the dry wind. And the scorpions, and everything darkened within you. “Lackeys of a Dornish House did this, the same ones that killed Aegon II. Assassins.”

You shivered and Adrian frowned. “If it is true… then why go north?”

It felt like someone had plunged an icy dagger into your guts, and you cursed as your previous guess was revealing itself to be true.

“They are headed to Harrenhal, Daemon Targaryen is there. It’s the only explanation.”

Adrian had nodded dismally, coming to slowly realise what was in play here. “Then if this is as you say, my Lady, we must warn Lord Jason, Lord Ormund. We cannot do this alone.”

“Maybe you cannot, but I will not let the Rogue Prince get a hold on my daughter as long as I am able. I am going.”

“My Lady, this is unwise. Do not let him take you too, I cannot provide you enough protection at the moment.”

“There is no need, I know I can reach out to them, I once knew the Qorgyles, I must,” you tried to convince yourself.

“With all due respect my Lady, if they are what you say they are, the murderers of the King as well as the Hand, I doubt that they’ll listen to you.”

“I-!” you tried, desperate, your nerves barely holding. “I cannot stand here and not pursue them! She is an innocent child, I cannot abandon her-”

“I know my Lady, and we won’t,” he cut, coming closer in an attempt to ground you with his words. “But we are too exposed here, and you know we cannot fight the Rogue Prince on our own. Please my Lady, let me help you get to your father at least. To your husband.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to slowly come back to your senses and not let anger and grief decide of your actions. You remained silent for a long while, the three riders around you anxiously awaiting your answer.

When you nodded, their expressions displayed relief, where yours was dark.

You would ride for Tumbleton as fast as possible and Adrian Tarbeck would join the town with his army in the next few days.

“You two protect her with your life,” he ordered his scouts. “Ride fast, the journey will be tiring.”

And then he had turned to the west, and you to the east. With a glance north, you were sure that putting distance between you and your child would be the hardest thing you would ever have to do.

Adrian Tarbeck had been right, the journey was exhausting, and the weather seemed to not agree with you. When you neared the camp around Tumbleton, all muddy and strained from your position in the saddle, soldiers glanced at your party with wary eyes but let you pass nonetheless. In the distance you could see Tessarion perched on a nearby hill, but no sight of Vhagar. Your anxiousness only grew wider as your steps led you to the main tent, hoping to see some familiar faces.

It was Alicent who welcomed you, as well as her uncle, Lord Ormund, who arched a brow so high at your sight that you thought he would disappear behind his head. Seeing your exhausted and confused state, she immediately called for your father, giving you a moment of rest.

“My child, what has happened?” she quietly asked you.

“I need to see Aemond. I need to explain to him, to make him understand that…”

“Shh, calm yourself Y/N. Breathe,” she asked, taking hold of your shoulder as your nerves gave in. You realised now that you would have to face Aemond and tell him everything, a fact that you had denied yourself to think about since Deep Den, scared to see the hurt on his face. “I am sorry my dear but Aemond is not here at present.”

You had stopped breathing and looked at her, but the folds of the tent opened to let Lord Lydden and Ser Sterron enter, nervous looks on their faces.

“Y/N! So this is true,” he said, advancing in order to take you in his arms as you stood up to meet his embrace. “What are you doing here, child? Why have you come alone with only Tarbecks riders as escort?”

Still in his arms, you had spoken the words that still haunted you, and were powerless against. The cold reality.

“Surely this is untrue,” had said Alicent, completely taken aback, a hand on her heart. But you only gave her a saddened look in response.

Your father tried to understand, and you explained everything, how all that it took had been the opening the Tarbecks had created for a few men to infiltrate Deep Den and steal an innocent child, who was surely secured within the walls of Harrenhal by now. After you had finished your tale, all remained silent, except for Ormund.

“Prince Daemon is reckless, he has not been the same since Rhaenyra’s death, and is more unpredictable than ever. We have no way of knowing if he holds your child for certain my Lady and going against him would ruin the advancements we have made with the Velaryons.”

“Are you implying that my daughter is lying? Or perhaps, that the life of my granddaughter is not worth saving?” your father retorted.

Ormund took a deep breath, looking at Lord Lydden with pity. “It saddens me to hear you say this, my Lord. You and I have made great efforts to finally achieve peace, and we must now act with care, with diplomacy, not emotion.”

Your insides started to boil, you had to speak. “You say that going against him would ruin peace, but it is Daemon who took an innocent child, who chose to act against us and jeopardise the efforts you speak of. I am sorry my Lord, but I’m afraid it is too late for cautious action, he clearly does not intend to hear what you have to say.”

Your words had drowned the entrance of both Daeron and Criston Cole, going unnoticed by both you and your father as you continued to stare daggers at Ormund.

“I agree. This is a provocation,” said your father after you. “I believe that he will soon make his intention clear to us, once he is certain to have all the cards he needs in hand.”

“We already know what he wansn't” said Ser Sterron, standing aside but listening attentively to the conversation. “He is mad with grief, he demands revenge and the only obstacle that stops him from achieving that end remains Vhagar. ”

You noticed for the first time Daeron and Criston Cole in the tent as they all silently agreed with the Knight's words. Daemon had always seen Vhagar as the greatest threat to the Blacks there was.

“Where is my husband?” you had asked, resuming your conversation with Alicent before your father’s arrival.

She lowered her gaze at her feet, Daeron answered instead. “He left yesterday for the Reach. We cannot know when he will be back. It could take days.”

“Then I am afraid we cannot wait,” your father spoke with determination, glancing at you from the side. “We must make the Rogue Prince understand his mistake.”

“My Lords, we are talking about hundreds of men posted at Harrenhal solely,” explained Cole who had caught up to the conversation. “Without mentioning Caraxes, there are Northmen as well as Rivermen, and the Lannister’s bannermen on our side are not enough. They were meant to secure the border, nothing more.”

“We have Jacaerys Velaryon.”

It was Alicent who had spoken, making everybody look back at her.

Ormund gave her a sorry look. “Cousin, Jacaerys is part of the terms agreed for peace with the Sea Snake and his House. We cannot freely-”

“The terms have changed. Daemon made sure of it,” she replied with watery eyes.

“Daemon has no care for Jacaerys,” Daeron interrupted. “He has been quite transparent in making it obvious for us and for his own family. I don’t believe it will change now," he said wisely, looking sweetly at his mother who seemed more desperate than you at this very moment.

“There is a solution,” spoke your father. “Jacaerys is to remain a part of the agreement with the Velaryons, but we demand more: the safe return of the daughter of Aemond Targaryen.”

“So you assume that the Velaryons has nothing to do with the abduction?” asked Ormund.

“I don’t believe so. Daemon took great care and had patiently waited for the perfect opportunity to take the girl. Would he have acted with the full support of his allies, he would have flown directly to Deep Den and demand to be handed the babe. Even take my own daughter if he had dared so,” Donnel said more heatedly. “No, instead he once more hired assassins from a humiliated House to steal a child in its crib without raising any alarms. The fact that we had not received an ultimatum yet is evidence enough that he acted alone.”

“You make a strong argument, my Lord, but there is very little chance that his own daughters will stand against him if we ever follow this plan. As much as Rhaena demands the return of her betrothed, she might not be this eager, or even capable of facing her own father.”

“You underestimate the bond that ties a father and a daughter, my Lord,” replied your father, glancing at you with pride in his eyes. “If Daemon acted alone, I believe that his deeds can be undone.”

Ormund found nothing else to say, and had only pouted and reluctantly agreed, outnumbered by the people present in the tent.

“What does that mean exactly?” you asked, afraid that this conversation was over, for surely, you understood wrong.

Your father turned to you, his expression cautious, aware that you would not settle for a plan like that. His words tried to be as quiet as possible, soothing. “It means that we must reach out to the Velaryons first, ask them to reconsider our offer. This is the only way we get Naerys back without bloodshed.”

You realised that you had understood correctly. You would have none of it, your anger overwhelming you again.

“I will not wait for them to reconsider anything while my daughter is in the hands of a man who wants my husband dead! She needs me!”  you had snarled, barely holding it together.

“He won’t harm her Y/N,” your father had tried while the others witnessed your grief at a safe distance.

“You do not know that!” you shouted, your face full of pain and desperate. “You said it yourself, my Lords, the Rogue Prince is unpredictable, and acts alone. There is not telling of what he might do. And Aemond would never-”

Your lungs burned as they lacked the air to work properly, and you could not speak any more.

If Aemond took the bait and went to Daemon, as the Rogue Prince clearly planned for him to, you would not survive it. It was your greatest fear, what your nightmares were about. You could not wait.

“Here, drink,” said Alicent, handing you a glass of water.

Taking the opportunity of your temporary calm state, both Ser Sterron and your father started to speak in complicated terms and send envoys to King’s Landing. You have never felt this powerless.

“I should fly to the Reach and warn Aemond,” stated Daeron.

“No!”

Both you and Alicent had exclaimed, but only the Queen Dowager continued as you quickly reported your gaze on your glass. “We cannot be dragonless, it is too dangerous. We will send ravens with the hope that he receives them.”

You said nothing more as servants lead you out of the tent to clean you up and give you new clothes.

After that, Daeron had come to check on you, worrying about you and you had taken the opportunity to ask him about his brother.

Aemond was in the Reach to render justice. Some Lord in the south had, since the fall of King’s Landing, proclaimed for the Blacks and betrayed the Greens. Daeron had at first been designated to go and take care of it, to make the Lord see his mistake with the help of the Hightowers’ forces already in place, to punish the traitor with the suited punishment.

However, Aemond had barged in and demanded to go himself, and no one had dared refuse him, even though everybody knew what terrible idea it was. Surely the Lord would be punished much more harshly than if Daeron had been the one to take care of it. However the Greens knew the Prince Regent frustrated from the current arrangements with King’s Landing and thought it best to send him away after all.

But you did not care. You had no idea when you would see Aemond again, and the fact that he was far away from Daemon made you think more clearly somehow, and you knew that you would not let the two men confront themselves. You did not have the power to keep Aemond in the Reach, but you could do something about his uncle.

So when the night came, you dressed with your black cloak, mounted your saddle, and rode for the north, unnoticed.

Inflicting punishment to the betrayers had been a much better distraction than Aemond had thought it would be. The Lord had begged for mercy when Vhagar had burned their towers, begged again when he asked him to spare his family, and then begged for his life when Aemond had announced that he would die for his treason. The Lord was not in his youth any more, but he was not an old man either, and Aemond has always been overconfident in his abilities.

“Stand, my Lord. Let see if the Gods think you deserving of the mercy you beg for,” he had declared before throwing him a sword.

Aemond had made quick work of the already exhausted man before feeding him to Vhagar. The Hightower’s Commander had said nothing as the Kinslayer took his frustration on the Lord of the Reach, satisfied with his idea of justice before witnessing him hesitate.

Aemond had planned to kill all the males of the treacherous House, but as he turned to the wife and kids of the now passed Lord, seeing the fear in their eyes, something had held back his sword. He had spared them.

Then, the Hightower’s urged him to visit his nephews in Oldtown, telling him that Jaehaerys has been ill for over two moons and Aemond had accepted to extend his journey for them.

When he flew to Old Town, seeing Larys Clubfoot and his nephews again, he had looked at the blond-haired children and had only seen the remnants of his siblings. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera had grown and were now resembling Helaena and Aegon more and more. Aemond had struggled to keep his emotions at bay in front of them as he stared into the same eyes his beloved sister once looked at him with, before the Blacks made her fall to her death. Before they murdered his brother.

It was at this very moment that he made a decision: he would fly to Deep Den and not depart until both you and Naerys would be saddled on Vhagar, never to leave him again. He had lost too much because of his failures, and now that he had you, the woman he had always desired, he vowed to never let you go.

When Vhagar landed on the accustomed hill across from the Den and Aemond made his way toward the gate, he instantly felt that something was wrong. The soldiers standing guard did not avoid his gaze as usual, rather glancing at him in fear and back at their feet with unsaid words. When he climbed the stony stairs inside, looks of fear mixed with pity were given to him by the people crossing his path, and the hall soon fell silent. But the final straw had been when he entered the antechamber to find both your mother and brother’s shifty gaze, and he prepared for the worst.

“What has happened?” he asked hastily, slowly advancing toward Lady Melara who was looking at him with utter pity and sadness.

But she didn’t answer him. Instead she lowered her gaze, unable to look at him any longer as she suppressed a sob. Aemond’s heartbeat was going much too fast, blood pumping in his veins. Your obvious absence was unsettling him.

“Answer me!” he shouted, loud enough to startle your mother and make her sob for real this time. “Where is Y/N?”

Your brother, on the other hand, stood still, eyes on the ground, a hard expression on his face. But he was the first to raise his head to Aemond.

“She left. For Tumbleton.”

Aemond frowned. “Why?”

Lady Melara tried to refrain her soft crying, making muffled sounds but Aemond was too focused on Amory to pay any mind. “To ask for help. It’s Naerys, she…”

Amory’s voice gradually lowered, and it only made Aemond angrier as he slowly started to understand, even if he did not want to.

“What of her?” he demanded, not daring to take even one step forth.

“She had been taken.”

The words echo in the room like a distant prayer, Lady Melara completely silent now. Aemond did not move a muscle.

“We believe that it was the Rogue Prince who hired-”

But the rest of Amory’s attempt at an explanation was drowned by the violent shattering on the floor of whatever found itself to be in Aemond's reach. The sudenty of the act made Lady Melara gasp and jolt in horror as he smashed a chair on the ground in anger among other objects, making the guards rush into the room in alarm before he finally settled down, breathing heavily, trying to gain control of himself again.

No one dared to even blink inside the room, waiting for Aemond to speak. When he did his voice was full of darkness, icy.

“When?” he lowly asked.

“… Two weeks ago. When the Tarbecks came.”

It took every self-control he had not to smash the remaining items around him at the additional news, instead exhaling deeply, clenching his fists before rushing toward the door.

“She wanted to tell you that she is sorry. That she doesn’t want to fail you again.”

He stopped in his tracks at Amory’s voice, his words sounding as if you had said them yourself, as if you were in the room with him. But you were not, and the next words of your brother were desperate.

“Please protect her,” he pleaded.

With his back to them, Aemond titled his head slightly to glance back, but did not find the force to reply. Instead he flew out of the room, and out of the Westerlands.

You realised that you were not as skilled at finding your way through the lands of Westeros as you thought you were, because you were unsure that you were still going into the right direction. But it did not stop you, you had the firm intention to reach Harrenhal, ready to strain your horse to exhaustion if it was what it took. When finally encountered the flat shining waters of the God’s Eyes, your determination only inflated and you hastened your ride, only to hear hooves behind you mere moments later as you reached the edge of the lake.

“My Lady, stop at once!”

Ser Sterron’s voice made you curse. Surely you had lost yourself at one point, or he would never have been able to catch up with you. You turned your mount as he levelled with you, no less than ten men behind him.

“My Lady what has come across your mind? Your father is furious, why would you put yourself in danger like that?!”

“I tried to warn my father, to warn them all, they didn’t listen. You cannot blame me for acting this way. She is my daughter and she is only north of this lake.”

“And what was your plan, eh? Request a meeting with the Rogue Prince and ask him to give her back?” His heavy breathing made his speech far more menacing. “You would have gone straight to your death!”

“It is better I die rather than my daughter or the victims of whatever fight you have planned!”

The Knight had been stunned by your words, your intention slowly dawning on him and you took the opportunity to turn again and resume your ride. Your movement took him out of his trance and he quickly posted himself in front of your horse, blocking your way.

“This is your plan then. You instead of her?”

You gave him a dark look and tried to get around him, but he expertly brought his mount to yours and commanded his men to surround you.

“I am sorry my Lady but I cannot let you do that.”

Immobilised by the other horses, you were stuck. You briefly considered outrunning them on foot, but you knew it hopeless.

Instead Ser Sterron made you retreat away from the village of fishers you were nearing, and away from the lake, taking cover in the woods of the God’s Eye.

You had been riding for more than two days, and it did not surprise you to see your new companions reluctant to bring you back to your father this instant, exhausted by the journey and dawn nearing.

“Are we to camp here? We will surely be discovered,” you remarked bitterly.

Ser Sterron had said nothing at first, before looking at you very seriously.

“Your father will be here tomorrow. We just have to wait until that time.”

You were taken aback by the news, but you said nothing. What your father had planned, you did not know, but for once, you were sure of your own scheme.

Aemond had come back to Tumbleton, only to discover that his wife was no longer there. Daeron had tried to reason with him, attempted to convince him to be on board with a more sensible and wiser plan than 'kill the bastard and send his head to the Blacks', as Aemond had very loudly and angrily suggested, but to no avail. Aemond was set on killing Daemon, it was only a matter of when.

Alicent was sorry to see her son in this state when she had seen how much having started a family had made him happier.

She has been the one to hold the longest conversation among the many of the present people who had tried before he had declared that he would not wait any longer and bring the Rogue Prince what he longed for: the wrath of Vhagar, as well as his own. Even Criston Cole had tried to slow his Prince down, seeing how blinded by revenge he was, but all he had gained in return were threats that of all the people who should have gone with Lord Lydden to retrieve you, he should have been part of it instead of hiding in Tumbleton like a coward.Shortly after Aemond had departed on Vhagar, a missive had arrived at the camp. Rhaenys had received the new terms and was ready to discuss it. She had just learned of Daemon’s deed, as did the realm.

On the second day, and after avoiding many soldiers that patrolled the God’s Eye rim for the countless times, your party of ten heavily armed men were finally spotted.

Rivermen had corned you, shouting at the Lydden soldiers to drop their weapons as the horses neighed in panic. Ser Sterron had been fast, putting you up on your feet and urging you away.

“Quick, my Lady, ride and do not turn back. This way!”

You had reluctantly obeyed as the men, some wearing a wolf on their armours and others a fish, surrounded your companions. As you rode away and came out of the woods, unsure if you had managed to lose one of the Riverman who had gone after you, you allow yourself a short rest before you were met with your father’s scouts, just in time for them to shoot an arrow at your chaser and make him fall off his horse.

Within the next hour, you were brought to the Lydden’s army that had come with the Tarbecks, and as you explained to them the predicament of Ser Sterron, avoiding the furious gaze of your father, you still thought that none of these men he had brought would be enough.

“You are to go back this instant. This is too dangerous for you here,” scolded you father when you two were alone. “You are lucky Ser Sterron found you. That my scouts found you.”

“You cannot make me go back. I came all of this way, I will not rest until I have her back. Not without a fight.”

Your father was about to retort, but a sharp squeal resounded through the air and red wings came flapping over the trees.

Now that you were out of the woods, you realised that you were much closer to Harrenhal than you had thought, as you could now see the dark towers and melted walls from a distance, the large village at the foot of the castle, the only thing separating you from its gates.

Caraxes landed at the rim of the woods, but his rider was nowhere to be seen. Instead, the Rogue Prince made his appearance on his horse, behind him a sea of black cloaks and other bystanders that had followed, curious of the sudden outing of their Lord.

“Lady Y/N Lydden. I would not have thought that you would have come.”

-0- Part 29

A/N: Dear readers. I beg of you, if you see any spelling errors or obvious mistake, do not hesitate to comment or send me a message. I know they are there but sometimes I just cannot see them. I would be very grateful!

@let-love-bleeds-red @crazylokonugget@jeyramarie@ephemeralninon@mrswhitethornbelikov@dudfahsn@missusnora@queenofterrasen418@honeytrapsblogp-graham@heathclifftragedyy @discowizard88@ivartheblessed@xceafh@bubbletae7@omgkatherine01@tzipora-art@signyvenetia @ml0103 @nsainmoonchild @lonadane @skythighs@bietchz@samnblack@mariaelizabeth21-blog1@projectcampbell @ripdragonbeans @caribbeangal@polireader@zillahvathek@moni-cah @literishdegree99 @a-beaverhausen @thekinslayer @maniccrystalhippie @princessofdarkwinter @isaxbella749@claudie-080102@ebaylee422@hydrationqueensworld@crumblychunksofheaven@officiallyunofficialperson@grungegrrrl@stargaryenx @dark-night-sky-99

[mybworlds]

Chapter 3

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader (no use of Y/N) Summary: This story sets 15 yrs before The Mandalorian events, Din Djarin is hired by Rebel Alliance forces to protect and escort you, the princess of a dead planet, to your new home. Series warnings: use of you, violence, science fantasy elements, slow burn, angst, fluff, mutual pining, eventual smut (18+ MDNI), trauma. Masterlist

Thanks @idontgetanysleep and @saradika-graphics the dividers. Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner.

Taglist: @thegreenkid2, @harriedandharassed if someone else wants to be added let me know.

When you wake up, you discover the doors of your small quarter open and the Mandalorian there intent on staring at you, you wince in fright and at that intrusive gesture, no one had ever allowed himself to stand there and watch you sleep.

“What are you doing?” you ask him as you sit up and look around.

“We arrived at our first destination,” he replies simply as if you are aware of what destination he is talking about or can read his mind.

You let your gaze wander from him to your robot friend not so far from the two of you, “Are you going to tell me more or am I supposed to guess?” you ask him raising an eyebrow.

“All I know is that I have to bring you to a safe place, give you up to someone named Fulcrum and that's it, that's all I know. I don't want to know why, what's so special about you, who's after you and why, I just have to bring you there.” he answers you almost annoyed.

You look him in his eyes or, rather, where you think his eyes are “I'm not asking you to understand, but at least be a little less harsh on me, please.” you find yourself lowering your gaze and remaining silent for a few moments “I don't know if you can understand what I say, but I'm scared, I lost everything. I have nothing left. What I have is the hope of being able to start over somewhere with someone I trust, the hope of being able to fight for something, to believe in something.” you look up at him again "I know I am nothing to you but a useless burden, but you know I have feelings too." you swallow as you look up into his face and bring your knees closer to your chest.

You hear him sigh, “I don't--” he is about to say something, but then he reconsiders, “Hold your breath, in a little while we land and the first impact with this atmosphere can be very uncomfortable.” said that, he walks away going over NK - 841 and disappearing into the narrow corridor.

“NK - 841,” you call to the robot who immediately approaches, “I feel so lonely,”

“You are not alone Princess,” he replies with a metallic voice.

“I do not know what to expect, I do not know what the Mandalorian's intentions are, whether he is willing to sell me to the highest bidder,” you reply with a sigh.

“Princess, the Mandalorian is bound by an oath sacred to him, the agreement made with the man of Arkanon will not be violated.” he replies again with a metallic voice.

You swallow, “I don't know what to believe in,” you sigh, “I'm afraid, so afraid.” you confess, as you are finishing the sentence the ship is shaken by what you imagine is the atmosphere of the Planet the Mandalorian told you about. You do as he told you, hold your breath and hide your head between your legs, the jolting gets louder and louder and your ears begin to hurt, your head gets heavy, as the ship returns to its normal set-up, you find yourself screaming, not even realizing it.

You get out of breath, you gasp. You feel like that room is closing in around you, on you, you feel like you are being crushed, you look at the ceiling trying to regularize your breathing uselessly, “H - h - he - help - help…” you want to say, but only a hoarse whisper comes out from your mouth, you are afraid. You think about your mother and her hugs, about a day when there was stardust in the sky marking the transition from cooler weather to warmer weather, about your father and how he used to make you practice sword dancing, about how uncoordinated you were at first and how funny some of your steps were, about your brothers and how they used to teach you how to read the Arkanian, how they used to tease you when you mispronounced a few words. You feel like you can hear their laughter, their words everything is confused in your mind… when you regain consciousness you're in a significantly larger room, there's light, you're no longer on the Mandalorian spaceship.

You sit down in the middle of the bed, for a moment you feel like you are in your room on Arkanon, for a moment you think that the destruction of your Planet, the death of your family and your civilization, the encounter with that strange guy were a long bad dream, but then you reconnect with reality and focus on the milky walls of the room, on a monitor on the wall, on strange lights flashing on that monitor. You get up, but your head still hurts, you approach that strange monitor when the door of the room opens and you see a young woman with long purple hair and a big smile on her face.

“Good morning, young Princess.” she greets you, you are about to ask her who she is and how she knows you, but she gets ahead of you “I am Elizia, first citizen and chief authority on Planet Ellna,” she observes you “How you feel?”

“Fine, I'm … just a little confused,” you reply, touching your head.

“That's fine,” she says approaching you “let me help you,” she continues, her tone of voice is strange, you wrinkle your forehead “come, follow me. You must be hungry.” she says turning her back to you and inviting you to leave the room.

“Yes,” you say following her, the hallway has similarly white walls, there are windows showing the outside only there. You stop to observe strange creatures running in the trees around you, some eating what looks like fruit, others fighting. You look ahead, Elizia is waiting for you “Those are sacred creatures to us,” she explains “they have been here for more than three thousand years and will continue to be here, they are essential to our survival.”

“Forgive me, but where is my--” yours? “traveling companion?”

“The Mandalorian is resting.” she replies in a quiet tone “Come, let me show you the wonders of our world while we go to breakfast.”

You continue down a corridor surrounded by many stained glass windows, birdsongs can be heard in the distance, and you almost feel like you are back at home in the evenings of the rising sun when stardust made the sky and the clothes of you Arkanians glow, you smile. It seems like something happened more than a thousand moons ago.

The two of you meet other women and men of Ellna, they almost curtsy when they meet Elizia, they all wear long ivory tunics and their white hair - unlike Elizia's - probably the purple hair of the woman next to you indicates her social status.

“All of this will seem very strange to you, maybe my hair, our clothes, even the landscape,” she says again as if sensing your thoughts “this way,” she says pointing to a door that as you approach it immediately opens revealing itself to be an open place overlooking an immense expanse of flowers, streams, it's a breathtaking sight, “Have a seat,” she says, when you turn to her, you find her next to a finely set table, there's lots of good food “help yourself.” she adds as she sits down.

“Thank you.” you say sitting down as well and starting to eat everything in your reach, you realize you are very hungry, you eat a lot, maybe even more than you need and when you look up you meet the woman's amused one “I was hungry.” you justify yourself.

“Don't worry, my young Arkanian. There is no hurry, you can sit here at the table as long as you wish.”

You swallow wiping your lips, “What is this place? I mean, why are you so nice to me?”

“This is a place of great rigor and discipline,” she begins, “We have known your civilization from what you call moons, we have been fascinated by your science, your culture have always been something we have aspired to,” you wrinkle your brow, “we want you to stay here and share with us the secrets of your people.” she adds.

You get up from the table, “Where is my traveling companion?” you ask, making the chair behind you squeak.

She also gets up, “I told you, he rests. You want to see him?” you nod, now understanding her fake kindness, that fake smile. You need to find him now and get away as fast as you can.

You enter the hallway again, this time your step is hurried, your breath short. “He's fine, don't worry,” she says again, but her voice is strange, it's like … distant, ringing in your ears like a distant echo. You walk several yards, then the woman enters a code, and when the doors open, you see a dark place, there are stairs. You hold your breath as you look toward the woman fearfully, “Come.”

You start to go down the stairs, as she passes that place seems to light up, it's frighteningly unbelievable how much you see: she's taking you to what reminds you of prisons. It's so cold down there, it's so … you arrive in front of a jail, yes it's a jail, even though it's dark you recognize the metal bars and then inside there is a machine that makes an annoying metallic noise, you look toward the woman who is watching you.

“That's our mind-absorber.” you swallow intuiting its use “It's a very useful piece of machinery especially when we have uncooperative prisoners, like your friend.” you go back to observe the interior, there's someone, but... “we discovered with this ingenious device that Mandalorians can never take off their helmets since they are bound by their sacred oath except for a few special places or for serious reasons,” you look up at her for a moment then look inward and only then, squinting, you see him lying supine completely helpless. You swallow, your heart pounding.

“What did you do to him? You told me…”

“He's resting,” she interrupts you, “of course not a voluntary sleep, but a necessary one. This place,“ she says pointing to the place - or who knows maybe she's referring to the Planet- ”is absorbing a fantastic millennia-old culture, combined then with yours will help to rise the fortunes of our dying Planet again.” you shake your head shocked and resting your hands against the bars, you shake them "Don't do that, you just make it worse."

“Mandalorian, Mandalorian, Mandalorian, wake up!” you exclaim vigorously you slamming your hands against the bars, you slam those doors so violently that you open 'em. You run close to the man still wearing his helmet, you shake him a couple of times and at that moment that eerie device begins to emit deafening and ever-closer sounds, you see so many pulses recorded on the monitor and it worries you.

“Your friend has a great brain, he has great rigor, he's going to be very disappointed when…” you rip all the wires that kept the Mandalorian connected to the machine, those sounds become whistles “NO, NO, STOP! THAT WILL DESTROY EVERYTHING!” you hear her shout behind you as she runs by the mind-absorber whose screen begins to flicker and flash red with the words ‘EMERGENCY CIRCUITS NOT CONNECTED IMMEDIATELY REPLACE THE CONNECTIONS,’ you shake the Mandalorian again as Ellna tries to grab you and block you.

You turn toward her and something incredible happens, you push her away from you, but it is as if that push you gave her was of extraordinary strength because the woman disappears into the darkness with a scream followed by a distant metallic noise. You open wide your eyes in amazement and observe your hands, they are still the same, no peculiarities, nothing that could justify what has just happened before your eyes. You remain interdicted for a moment longer and then turn back to your traveling companion, you shake him again and again and only then the Mandalorian begins to move, he is waking up, you smile fleetingly at him taking one of his glove-covered hands “We have to go, Mandalorian. You have to get up.”

He nods and struggles to get up, you help him to his feet, make him put on the things he had with him, and then help him to his feet, his step is unsteady as you walk up the stairs and back upstairs.

Above your heads echoes an alarm and a red flashing light, “Mandalorian, we must leave.” you whisper to him “Does this Planet have breathable air?” he nods, you hear him breathing heavily “Don't worry, I'm here, I'll help you. “ you tell him as you trudge down the corridor you had previously walked with Ellna, you reach the terrace on which she had earlier made you eat and from there in theory you could have descended, but in practice it is impossible as you cannot jump or climb since it is a suspended place over an overhang.

“What do we do now?” you ask him, but it's as if you're talking to yourself because you really have no idea how to get out of it, you let your gaze wanders left and right in case something had escaped you, but there's no way out. Meanwhile, not too far away from you, you hear voices, you look at your traveling companion with a frightened look, he still looks dazed, the voices are getting louder and louder they are getting closer, you back up until you end up against him, you look up at him, you know he is looking at you, you feel it.

“Here they are!” someone exclaims, opening the door that separated the two of you from the inhabitants of that Planet, only at that moment when ten men appear before your eyes pulling at you what look like weapons, you feel one of the Mandalorian's arms wrap around you completely and make you reverse your position with his, sparks of red and purple light shatter against his armor as you cling to him as much as you can closing your eyes “Hold on.“ you hear him say, you barely make it in time to cling to his armor that you leave that terrace, you feel like a strong suck in your stomach, the cold air almost scratches your face making your hair move uncomfortably, "Don't be afraid," he adds barely holding you to him, it's a gentle grip, you want to say thank you, look at him, but you can't, "You're safe, we're safe now." he tells you again.

You don't know how long you've been flying or what you've been flying on, when you finally touch the ground, your knees give out and before you know you are throwing up, the Mandalorian will probably tease you until he takes you to your next destination, but you don't care at the moment. When you open your eyes, the Mandalorian is kneeling beside you “How you feel?” he simply asks, you look at him in amazement “Good.” you say nodding your head.

“Can you walk?” he asks standing up and holding out his hand to you, you grasp it as you stand up, but you almost stagger against him “No, I would say no.” he replies for you “Okay, never mind,” he adds taking you in his arms, you barely open your lips wide in amazement, but you do not protest rather place one hand against his chest covered by his armor and the other on your lap.

You arrive after a few moments in what has all the appearance of being a forest, there are many trees and lush vegetation populated by many small strange creatures, from there you hear and feel that it is raining, you lay down at the foot of a large tree and then he fiddles with the leaves, “Are you thirsty?” he asks you.

“Yes.” you nod, looking at him in curiosity, “What are you doing?”

“Don't worry,” he reassures you as you see him create a sort of waterfall with the leaves “you can drink.” his voice is gentle and you trust him, for the first time you trust someone who is not an Arkanian. You drink, let out a small moan of pleasure and smile closing your eyes, you think back to the last time you drank your Planet's so pure water and how you didn't appreciate what you had then, today you only have a memory of it, the smile fades and you open your eyes wistfully again.

“What's the matter?” he asks you noticing your different expression from the one of a few moments before and leaving that ingenious little system prepared for you.

“You know, I was remember about my Planet, my home, and I was thinking back to my family,” you shake your head “I don't know if you can understand,” you bite your bottom lip clutching your knees to your chest “I miss everything I had.” you look at him “Don't get me wrong, you're a good company, but uhm, I mean…” he sits under another tree in front of you and looks at you, you know he's looking at you, you don't see his eyes, but you feel his gaze ‘can I ask you something?’ he nods ”is it true what that woman said? Don't you take off your helmet because of an oath? Or did she lie?”

“It's true. I mean, our people are divided into various clans, we are different from each other.” he explains ‘I'm part of The Tribe clan, we can't take off the helmet, it's our law.’

“And how do you eat?” you ask him curiously.

“That's when I can take it off, but I do it when I'm alone, completely alone,” he replies, emphasizing the last words.

“And how do you know you're really alone? I mean, someone could hide you and see you,” you say looking toward him tilting your head to the side.

“That's why the helmet is also useful, it reveals the presence of others whether they are animals or people.” you nod “Can I ask you something?” it's your turn to nod “Why are you so special? Why did that man tell me to protect you at all costs?”

So, Nanuk said that to the Mandalorian.

Oh, Nanuk!

“I don't know, I'm just an Arkanian, I'm … I was a princess, I had everything, but now I have nothing, so to answer your question, I don't know what's special about me.” you tighten your lips “I just found out a little while ago that I'm … strong, very strong.”

“In what way?” he asks, moving your torso forward.

“When you were unconscious and connected to that machine before, that woman tried to stop me, she wanted you to stay connected to that thing, while I was disconnecting everything instead, she tried to block me as much as she could, but I pushed her away and I thought I was just going to make her back off and instead, um, she… she just kind of flew away, I don't know, I didn't know I was that strong.” you tell him, looking at him ‘Am I weird in your opinion?’ you ask him.

“You are the first Arkanian I've met, I don't know your people despite having traveled far and wide. I don't know, maybe you have a power unknown to you that manifests only on particular occasions.” he replies uncertainly ‘Maybe in dangerous situations.’ he adds.

“Yes…maybe.” you assert scratching your forehead “Your spaceship do you know where it is?” you ask him, you see him fiddling with his armor that makes a series of sounds, you see him stand up and look first to the right and then to the left, he takes a few steps away from you and you follow him with your gaze.

“It's to the west, we could reach it in a short time, but we'd better wait for night. I'm afraid those people are looking for us.” he tells you, you look at him alarmed standing up immediately leaning against the trunk of that tree.

“But we're safe here, aren't we?”

“For now.” he answers you “Wait here.” he adds and then walks away without another word. The Mandalorian said nothing to you so as not to frighten or agitate you, but they are very close, they are looking for you, he sees them, they are on a hill almost in the vicinity of the clearing. He will keep them busy, you must stay hidden and safe, that is his priority, that is his mission.

[kfinalgirls]

Welcome to the Dollhouse

°ꕥ°Admin Bibi Presents

°ꕥ°Pairing: Ji Changmin X Bianca (OC) 1st pov

°ꕥ°Genre/trope/au: Horror, smut, non established relationships

°ꕥ°Rating: 18+ MDNI R rated

°ꕥ°Warnings: Kidnapping, torture, swearing, (smut in future chapters)

°ꕥ°Word count: 2,315

°ꕥ°Credits to: @kitsunecafe

°ꕥ°Synopsis: Bianca has been kidnapped and wakes up, with no memory of the night before. She and the hostages must follow the rules of the game master or suffer the consequences

°ꕥ°A/n: I live and breathe horror and K-pop, and this is my first time openly sharing my writing. I want to share this with people who love the same things I do, so enjoy, please🖤

Why is it so cold? Why does my body feel so heavy? Why does my head hurt so fucking much…?

Opening her eyes, Bianca is met with nothingness. It was pitch black wherever she was and she could practically hear her own heart beating out of her chest in the eerie silence surrounding her. Bianca was sitting on something cushiony, assuming it was a couch. She brought her legs up to her chest to calm her racing heart. Taking a few deep breaths, Bia's head started to pound immensely. Fuck! Did someone knock me over the head?

Feeling movement next to her, she covered her mouth so as to not let out a single sound. Unsure of the situation she was tangled in. Bianca didn't want to make any sudden movements, considering her memory was wiped clean at the moment.

"Is someone here next to me?" A man's voice whispered out.

Bia hesitated to respond. "Uh yeah.. who are you?" She squeaked out, hugging her legs tighter to her chest.

He remained silent for a split second before answering. "I'm - I'm not sure." His voice trembled, causing Bia's stomach to drop.

"Where the fuck am I?" A high pitched voice shrieked out in the darkness. Startling Bia, she subconsciously clutched to the random stranger next to her, gripping tightly to his arm. He flinched, but quickly relaxed.

"Hey, someone turn on the fucking lights!" Another voice boomed out, deeper and very aggressive this time.

Bianca heard sniffling coming from somewhere in the dark room but couldn't pinpoint which direction it was coming from. Feeling a little more comfortable, knowing that there were more people around her, she stretched her legs out but couldn't fight that bad feeling in her gut. Telling her that this was a situation she didn't want to be a part of. Bia let go of the stranger and stood up to test the waters and instantly regretted it. Her legs felt like jello, yet her body felt as heavy as bricks. It was as though she had been dragged around by a pickup truck.

"Hey, are you okay there?" The voice next to her spoke out again as she felt his nimble fingers wrap around her wrist protectively.

Chuckling nervously, Bia stretched her body a little more. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just feel like I've been hibernating for ages." She fiddled with her left ear with her free hand.

"How could you be laughing at a time like this?" He asked Bianca, fear and shock very evident in his voice. He was right. She shouldn't be laughing in such a situation, but Bia couldn't help it. The stranger let go of her once she seemed okay, but she couldn't drop the feeling of him staring at her, even through the dark.

Apologizing, Bia waved her hands in front of her, hoping she was facing the right direction of his voice. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to laugh, but we don't know what's going on, and I'm a nervous giggler." He hummed in response.

There were a few more groans heard around them, as more people were starting to wake up one by one. "Ohhh, what's this? Are we in some sort of Febreze commercial?" Another female voice appeared, fairly close to Bianca.

"I doubt this is a Febreze commercial," She snorted. "It smells dusty and old in here." Bia added, massaging her temples, trying to get this intense headache to dissipate.

"Okay, how many people are in here?" The aggressive voice called out to the room. Before anyone could reply, though, the lights dimly flickered on. The guests had looks of confusion and worry. Some had been crying, and some were still unconscious. Bianca squinted at the sudden lighting, taking in all her surroundings, but nothing and no one looked familiar to her. This place looked like it had never seen a living soul, an old Victorian home with its windows boarded up completely, drapes covering the furniture, cobwebs, and dust all over. It was like a scene out of a horror movie.

This has to be some kind of joke…right?

"Hey you! The one with the curly brown hair. What's your name?" That deep voice startled Bia from behind. Turning around to see who it belonged to, she silently stared at him. Going through her mind if she recognized him, to which she didn't. He had a head of wavy brunette hair and sensitive eyes that sucked you in.

Blinking a few times, it hit Bia. "I'm? I actually have no clue what my name is." She stood there dumbfounded. She had no recollection of what she had been doing before waking up in this house.

"What do you mean you don't know what your name is? Do you have dementia or something?" A girl with long red orange hair exclaimed at Bia, who she thought was the one that shrieked earlier.

"Okey carrot top, what the fuck is your name then?" Bia crossed her arms, immediately getting defensive at the redhead's attitude towards her.

"...." She pursed her pink lips and stared at the ground "I'm not sure either."

"Ahh exactly, so calmada mi tia." Bia snapped her fingers at the girl.

"Okay calm down you two, it seems none of us can remember our names, or how the fuck we even got here." A muscular, angelic like man came between the two before a brawl started.

Looking around, Bia noticed there were seven of them in total, four men and three women. The stranger next to her had been sitting so quiet. She almost forgot he was there till he spoke up. "Do you guys think we're in some sort of danger?" He asked, barely above a whisper. He looked plain in her eyes, glasses, dull raven locks, like he couldn't even harm a fly and probably read books about rocks for fun.

I don't know any of these people. Have I run across them before? Bianca thought to herself as she took a good look at everyone.

"Fuck me, that must have been some party." A brunette girl with a bowl haircut rubbed her eyes, taking everything in. "Hmm? Wait? Who are you people?" She asked everyone, her face mimicking their confusion.

One of the guys whose voice was smooth as butter, kneeled in front of the newly awoken women. "Can you remember anything that's happened recently? Or your own name?" He gently spoke to her. Ms. Mullet's eyes widened as she tried desperately to think back on how she got here.

"The only thing I can recall was being shit faced at a party and then nothing." She gasped, panic settling comfortably in her green orbs.

"I see everyone is awake now! Welcome to my Dollhouse." A robotic sounding voice came from a nearby speaker.

"Dollhouse?" Bianca asked quietly to no one in particular. The timid man she was sitting next to, stood up beside her and stayed close to her, feeling his warmth near was comforting for Bia.

The statuesque man walks up to the speaker with no hesitation. "Is this some sort of game or trick? Why are we here? And why can't we remember anything?" He growled.

The stranger's voice was terrifyingly menacing for a robotic tone. "There are clues in this room as to who you are. Figure out your names. Once you think you have the answer, I want you to look through one of the eight paintings with your supposed name above them." The voice explained.

The hostages looked around the room and noticed there were eight similar paintings, each portraying a gruesome death scene. "What the actual fuck…" the annoying red head whispered to herself. Above them were names, just as the voice said.

Seulgi, Yeosang, Hyerin, James, Bianca, Kevin, Yerin, and Vernon. They read, and right underneath the canvases were two eyeholes.

"If you happen to get your name right. You should see a photo of yourself. But if you get it wrong…well there will be a little surprise for you. Good luck, my little toys~" With those final instructions, the speaker went silent.

"What kind of fuckery is this?!" The kind eyed man angrily punched the wall beside him.

Bianca flinched at his reaction. She sat quietly on the couch, hugging herself as panic washed over her whole body. "I think we should follow his instructions." She whispered.

"Yeah, I'm going to have to agree with Ms. Curly, we don't know what this person is capable of." The smooth voiced guy agreed with her. He stood up straight and started walking around to examine the photos and names.

Kind eyed man glared between the speaker and the group of strangers. "Please, what can this punk do? He didn't even have the balls to show his face to us. Telling us we're his precious "dolls." He's nothing but some pussy hiding behind a wall who has nothing better to do." He spat bitterly, flipping off the speaker.

Well... I guess we know who's dying first. Bianca raised her eyebrows.

"He's a pussy that managed to somehow get us all in here and not remember anything?" The platinum mullet girl rolled her eyes, repeating everything he just said because it sounded so stupid. "You need to calm down your testosterone. We're all scared."

Nodding along, Bia was about to ask the timid man next to her what his thoughts were, but her words stopped in her throat as soon as she looked into his eyes. They were dark and sharp, staring daggers at the bigger man. It sent a bad feeling in the pit of Bianca's stomach and she didn't want to sit near him any longer. Standing up and walking around to look for clues of who she could be, she tripped over one more person who had yet to wake up.

Gently nudging them, they didn't move. After a few more times, Bia finally smacked the back of their head and got a groan in response. "What's going on over here?" The angelic guy rushed over to help the person up.

They were sporting a short blue pixie cut. Oh? Another woman, so it's an even amount of us… she sat up and looked like hell, makeup running down her face, hair matted and in every direction, eyes bloodshot.

"Damn girl, you look terrible." Bianca accidentally said out loud. The angel man gave her a look of disapproval as she immediately apologized.

The new girl groaned again and chuckled. "I feel terrible, too. Where the hell are we?... actually, who are you guys?" She turned her head in every direction.

"That's what we're trying to figure out." Kind eyes appeared before them. "Do you have any recollection of what you were doing in the last 24 hours or so?" He asked, aggression clearly part of his tone.

Pixie girl had no clue what was going on and simply shook her head. Bianca stepped away and continued to look for clues. Studying the gruesome portraits, she noticed that they almost resembled them. But the names above them, do they match? Or is it to throw us off?

Bianca found a portrait with someone that resembled her, but the name above it read Kevin. Something was telling her that her name was probably not kevin. Looking around the room, studying the strangers in here, her eyes landed on Mr. Smooth voice.

Calling him over, she pointed to her photo. "This is me, but I don't think my name is Kevin. You look more like a Kevin." Bia took a good look at him again and felt positive that his portrait was behind those two little holes.

"Tch- do I give Kevin vibes?" He gives her a dirty–but playful look. Her eyes widened, embarrassed and not wanting to offend anyone.

"I mean… kinda." She gave him a sheepish smile. He busted out laughing, a laugh so loud, it surprised her that someone with such a soft voice could elicit such a sound.

"Ahhh, you're right, I do look like a Kevin. Should I look through it?" He raised his eyebrows, asking Bianca. "I'm scared to look, but it would be a start to figuring shit out."

Bia chewed on the inside of her cheek and nodded. "I think you should do it." Before he leaned in though, the speaker went off again, startling everyone, a few curses slipping.

"You guys have less than an hour and no one has looked through the peep holes yet. Maybe I should just kill everyone now and get a new set of dolls." The voice threatened, clicking off. The room was filled with gasps and cries.

"What does he mean by kill us all?" The redhead shrieked.

"What do you think he means carrot top?!" Bianca rolled her eyes, but fear had taken over, and she was trying hard not to scream and cry. Who she had assumed was Kevin, set his hand on her shoulder to relax her, and gave Bia a small smile.

"Are you going to look through that one, man?" Mullet girl asked worriedly, eyeing the canvas and the name above it. "I guess you do look like a Kevin, but that image ain't you." She commented.

He nodded and took a deep breath. The tension in the room was high. Suddenly, everyone was surrounding the three as the first person was preparing to look into the eyeholes. Bia felt her hands get clammy as she lightly grabbed his arm to give him some comfort. There was a moment of silence where everyone held their breath as he leaned his face closer and closer, his dark orbs full of dread finally peeking through the holes…

[renneiscent]

Two Sides of The Same Coin

Note: I apologise for bad writing and grammar, I hope you enjoy it.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 4: Lodging for the Missing

The motorcycle is heading to the alleys and narrow streets, away from the main road, until it is finally slowing up in front of the rickety building with neon light that says “Nobody Inn” decorating on top of it. It cannot be any sketchier, I think.

As the engine is going off, I immediately took off the helmet as I get down from the motorcycle and so does ‘Jake’. He then heads to this run-down building, leaving me nervously watching him with fidgeting my fingers. I guess he notices that I didn’t follow him, that’s why now he stops and turns at me. His hair and shirt are damp because of the rain we are passing through which is I’m not complaining.

“What is it?” he asks as if he could sense my concern.

“Well…” I bite my lip nervously; trying to find my priorities about what should I say first. Are you Jake? Where were you before? This building seems will fall down any seconds. Why did you here? WHY am I here? The name of this motel, is that for real? What will you do to me? Why your voice is so nice to hear? What—

“So?” he snaps me back from my thoughts, he is now crossing his arms over his chest while his index finger tapping to his bicep, beckoning me to speak.

“Who are you?” I finally managed to ask. It’s better rather than just remains silent and stares at him like a pervert. He raises his brows, feeling surprised.

“So that’s the reason you pulled away before?” he chuckles, I’m flustered. Yes, I did hug him because feeling guilty to steal his coat and also, yes I pulled away after realising that he may not Jake that I knew. “I will give you 3 chances to ask some things about only you and Jake know.”

I chew my lips before speaking, “what did Jake do before our first interaction?”

“I let you saw through the conversation between Dan and Jessica,” he takes some steps toward me. The answer is correct. “Well… how did you like it?” so does his response.

“What is the name of this stuff that protected me when Jake was on hiding?” I ask again, feeling more nervous and little ease somehow.

“Nymos,” he takes more steps again. “That little red eye as its symbol… I should design it less suspicious and more pleasant in the eyes, no?”

The answer is correct again and also our gap is decreasing. One last question…

“Who you gonna call?” I’m staring at him who is walking straight at me, closing the gap between us. I can hear his chuckles.

“Ghostbusters,” he leans down so our eyes are meeting. “That was so reckless of you, MC. The questions must require the information that outsiders couldn’t know.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” I smile. The last question is indeed reckless, but his responses already proved me enough.

“Are you still doubting me or are we good?” his eyes are staring at me deeply. “Because someone just stole my coat and I’m soaked by the rain and right now I’m freezing.”

“Good,” I nod my head few times. “We are good, at least for now.”

He furrows his brows, probably wanting to ask me about what did I just mean by that. But before he managed to ask about it, I already walk past by him and get inside to the motel. Inside the building, it’s not crowded as I expected. Only one person I managed to find which is the receptionist and he doesn’t speak much, just focusing on his newspaper that I’m doubting if he really read it despite the lacking of light in his cubicle.

“Which one is your room?” I ask as I intend to turn to the right lobby.

He immediately pulls me by the wrist and beckons with his head, “this way.”

I’m too embarrassed and surprised so I didn’t say anything at all. I’m just letting Jake holding my hand and letting me following him from behind until we reach his room. It is in the very back room in the left corner of this building. He takes out the key from his pocket and unlocks the door. Just after he opens the door, a glimpse of shadow is quickly jumping and attacking him.

“Who do you think you are!?” a woman shout at him, my eyes widen in shocked. Her hands are wrapped on his neck, choking him tight.

“Jake!” I want to help him but Jake hints me to not intervene.

“Athena,” he calls the goddess name, the voice is choked. “We have a guest…” I guess it’s the woman’s name.

The woman named Athena groans as she lets go of her hands from Jake and turns to face me. Her hair is as blonde as the summer beach sand; her eyes are stunning like emerald as if the smoky make-up couldn’t dim the light. Her beauty intimidates me.

“Hi,” I greet her while raising one of my hands awkwardly.

She rolls her eyes then face Jake again, “and you told me to not be worried when we are in the same city as her!? You didn’t follow the target or even find the key!!”

Athena walk pass by me and slam the door until it shut then her hand pointing at me, “and you let her to come here? Are you insane, Rion!?”

Rion? I look at Jake, confused. My head is throbbing in pain with so many questions I have, it doesn’t decrease but it is increasing more and more in every minute. Jake is still in silence, not even looking at me and this Athena girl. He takes off his mask and put in on the drawer near the door. It feels like my heart is falling to my belly.

I finally see his face completely.

“Do you have clean outfit that I can borrow, Athena?” he asks calmly while heading to the room.

“Are you ignoring me?!” Athena follows him from behind, leaving me alone while still being mesmerised with Jake’s face. With the face of his, he deserves to be in jail. It’s not fair to my heart.

“What the fuck, Orion?! Why did you take my outfits?! Not that one, I never wear it yet! Stop, not that one! Fine, just lend her this one.”

I don’t know what’s happening but Jake already comes back and walks toward me with pile of clothes on his hands. “What is that?” I ask even though I can already tell what he is trying to do.

“Go change, you can wear this.” He hands me the clothes, I peek at Athena who is standing with arms crossed in the front of her room. “Don’t mind her, just go change.”

I nod then go to the bathroom, avoiding the eye contact Athena trying to make. Before I’m taking off my clothes, I’m checking the clothes that Jake just gave me. There are white sweater with long wide pants with army green as its colour and there are also… clean underwear and bra. I’m in dilemma if I should be flustered or disgusted with it.

“The underwear are still new, I just bought it. Lucky you, I guess.” Her voice is behind the door. I’m surprised since she managed to answer my question before I couldn’t say it out loud.

“Thank you, Athena.” I say sincerely, and then quickly take off Jake’s coat and my clothes, putting it on the basket there. I wonder if Athena is still there.

“How could you meet with Orion and end up here?”

I guess she is still there.

“Orion?” I ask, unsure even though I realised who is this constellation we are talking about.

“Oh my bad… perhaps you know him more as Jake,” she scoffs. “What a common name, it doesn’t suit him.” I can hear her mutters but I try to not intervene much.

“I was… in the middle of something,” I lie while putting on the underwear and then pants. “And then we just met somehow.”

There is silence between us as I finally put the sweater; I open my mouth to speak, “If I may… what is your relationship with him?”

I’m in the between of curious and afraid to know the answer. Are they, by any chance, partner in crime… looking at how hostile she is toward me, even though I realised that I’m disturbance for their mission, I’m afraid if it’s more than that.

“You don’t need to know everything.”

I can hear her footsteps walking away, I feel so doomed. All of these stuffs happening in only one night. Too much things going on in the blaze of time, it drives me insane. I then choose to wash my face before walk out from the bathroom. I’m looking at my reflection in the mirror, her sweater that I borrow is bit bigger until it sometimes reveal my skin. I fix as taking the deep breath. When I walked out, I didn’t find anyone in the TV room where all the chaos just happened, I take a peek in Athena’s room and she is also not there.

“Are you hungry?” I look to the source of the voice and find Jake is just from outside with hands full. He already changes his clothes with black hoodie and black long pants. As he takes his mask off and put his cap away, he then places the food down on the table. It’s Chinese food.

“Go have some bite. I will drive you home when it is not raining anymore.” Jake is taking off his hoodie, leaving him only wearing black t-shirt. I wonder why all of his outfits are black. Even Athena still has some colours in her wardrobe. But I’m thankful for it since the black outfit just makes him look more fascinating.

“Is it still raining?” my brows are raised as I’m heading to the couch and having a seat. “Where is Athena?” I look at my surroundings as if Jake is sitting beside me not bother me at all. Well, it does bother me! A LOT!

“She said she will go somewhere,” Jake takes one of the food containers and put it in front of me. “It’s not because of you, so you don’t have to think much. Just eat.”

I take my food and the chopsticks, trying to feed myself a small bite. But I cannot focus with my food when Jake is beside me, opening up the food containers and offering me to eat other foods he brought, even preparing my water like the boyfriend take care of his girlfriend. Especially when he has this soft and fluffy hair I want to ruffle, or the eyes as blue as the ocean that I want to swim in, those jawlines which managed to cut everything, and—

“This is not Chinese restaurant that I have in mind when I asked you before,” he turns and looks at me, smiling. “I apologise.”

Oh God, I thought I’m the crazy one for clinging to the memories and cannot move on from it. But he is still in the same page as me, remembering the moment when we discussed about the Chinese food and our thoughts when we met with each other.

“This is already perfect,” I reply sincerely, smiling from ear to ear.

Just as things are getting good, as always it really needs to be interrupted. His flip phone is suddenly buzzing, he immediately take it and stand up from the couch. “One moment,” he says as he walks away from me sitting.

It doesn’t take long for Jake to come back and sit beside me, he put his flip phone back on the table and reaches one of the bottles.

“Was it Athena?” I dare to ask.

“No,” he opens the bottle and drinks the water from it. “It’s from someone else,” he adds while putting the bottle back.

The silence between us is awkward and I’m puzzled about which things that I should bring out first to discuss with Jake. There are so many things I want to ask him and this is now the chance that great God just gave me but nothing comes out from my mouth yet. I put my food and take the water bottle instead, refreshing my mouth before prepare to ask him with everything.

“MC,” how Jake calls my name makes me flinched.

“Yes?” I look at him; he is leaning onto the couch while staring at me seriously.

“After you are at home, I want you to turn a blind eye to what’s happening tonight. Either it’s what happened in the alley or here; I want you not to stick your nose into someone’s business again.”

“What do you mean by that?” I frown, I don’t like where this is going.

“I want you to act that tonight never happens,” his hand reaches my hair and plays with it gently. I’m confused with his action and word which is not in the same direction. He wants me to ignore whatever just happened tonight but he is being affectionate with me. Does he think that I’m the greatest warrior? I’m trying so hard to handle myself here with your doings, Jake.

“Why? Are you going to disappear again?” I bite my lower lip, feeling frustrated and annoyed in the same time.

His hand now is moving from my hair to my lower lip, he pulls it gently for me to not bite it. He escapes long sigh, “where did you pick this bad habit from?”

“Jake,” I say desperately as I hold his wrist. “Answer me.”

“I’m not going to disappear, I never disappear.” He brushes my face gently as his eyes are shifting to my lips then to my eyes, “think of me as the daytime star. Even though you cannot see me, it doesn’t mean I’m not there. I’m always near you.”

“But I don’t want it. I miss you so much, how could you say something like that after finally showing up for years?” I’m furious with his statement; I don’t want to be left out anymore, especially after our real meetings, after our finally interaction from the incident in the mine. I can move on from Richy because he is really gone, but how could I do that with Jake when he is right here in front of me? I can finally see him, finally hear him, and finally touch him.

“I’m also longing for you, but as what I told you before this isn’t right,” he leans closer and tugs my hair behind my ear. “And it’s dangerous.”

“Then, why did you intervene tonight? Why did you jump and save me from them, and even brings me here?” I glare at him, this is so much unfair.

He smiles apologetically and then kisses my forehead, “because you’re all that matters.”

I quickly jump to him and put my arms around his neck, embracing him really tight. I want to hit him for being so stupid but perhaps I’m the fool one here. So instead of hitting him, I will just make myself lose in his arms for tonight.

“How you handle it?” I bite my lower lip to not let myself fall even for one tear. “You are watching me from afar all this time, how did you handle it?”

Jake places his hand on my waist and the other hand to caress my head; I can hear and even feel his breath on my neck. His scent soft and warm like the home where every missing soul is taking rest, he feels warm like he is the embodiment of sun which its ray bathes my skin.

“It’s hard, I’m still not getting used with that,” he kisses my cheek. He tighten his hug, feeling don’t want to let go. But I break the hug and pull away for us to look at each other, he looks at me confused.

“I will be really pissed if you get used with that,” I glare at him, but he chuckles. His laugh eases the pain I’m bearing. I notice his eyes are no longer at my eyes anymore, but those ocean vessels already on my lips; staring it deeply as if it’s something so precious, something so priceless.

“MC,” he calls my name affectionately. I love it every time he calls me by my first name.

“Hm?” I murmur, still astonished with his beauty.

“Do you mind if I kiss you?”

[lady-rose-moon]

I have you || Chapter Eleven ||

Hello to those who tuned in and welcome back to I have you! Posts are dropping down to one a day so I hope you like this!

The link to my main masterlist is ~~here~~

The link to my I have you masterlist and previous chapters is ~here~

Chapter Ten | Masterlist | Chapter Twelve

Please comment and reblog, it means a lot!

The illusion was set. Thor’s hand was properly hidden beneath one of Loki’s best illusions and Odin was invisible at their sides. They could hear his breathing on the wind if they focused enough but other than that, they could not tell that the ageing King was right beside them.   

Loki watched as the last remaining Dark Elves left their ship and headed for the rendezvous point where Loki would enact his plan. The mortal girl had spent too much time with the Aether, and he knew that when it was removed, she will die. The reality stone was never meant to possess someone, it was fluid just as he was but did not take forms of mammals for a reason.   

Knowing their eyes were on Thor and him, Loki glared down at the blackened sand beneath his leather boots and started on his role, “you know this plan of yours will get us killed?”   

Thor chuckled and looked out towards the ugly sky beyond before returning his gaze to his little brother, the brother he had sworn to protect once he first laid eyes on him. He knew that wherever Loki was, in the end, Thor would always be there to protect him. So, he followed Loki’s act, put on a show.   

“That is why mortals call such plans a ‘suicide mission’, Loki, do not try to be snarky. Better to go out in a blaze of glory, just like we always wanted,” Thor clapped Loki on the back and then offered his brother two beautifully forged daggers, “so why not go out in style, brother?”  

Loki stared at the daggers, hating how he will use them in just a few moments, and he looks up at Thor in disbelief, “you trust me enough, brother?”   

Thor chuckled softly and held Loki’s neck affectionately, “well, you’ve proved yourself worthy for a while now, brother, what’s another time going to hurt?”  

Loki frowned and looked into the eyes of his brother, mouthing a quick ‘I’m sorry’ before chuckling darkly and stabbing Thor in a space that would not be fatal, and he pushed him down the darkened dune of ruined sand. Following him, Loki mustered up the courage to continue his actions against his brother, “You really think I cared about Frigga? About any of you? Here’s a lesson ‘brother’, never trust a trickster.”  

Thor tried to call for Mjolnir, he knew Malekith was watching this play out with a great deal of curiosity and suspicion. Malekith was smart but Loki had tricked better, he had tricked Thanos into believing he would’ve handed over Midgard so easy. Malekith was lesser than Thanos and so, Loki could handle him. The song of Mjolnir flying to her owner sounded across the desolate sand. That is, until Loki cut off Thor’s hand and the scream that follow branded the little brother with so much guilt even if it was merely an act.  

“All I ever wanted was you and Odin dead at my feet,” Loki growled and watched his older brother cradling his stump. Loki started the next phase of his plan and grabbed the poor Midgardian girl and he sent a silent prayer to the Norns that they would send her soul to Valhalla because he knew that she would not be surviving, “Malekith!” Knowing he had grabbed the elf's attention, he pulled Jane up and held the dagger to her throat, “I am Loptr Laufeyson! The rightful King of Jötunheim! I bring you a gift!”   

With that, he flung Jane to Malekith’s feet and she looked up at him defiantly. She was a strong mortal and so, she would be blessed to go to Valhalla for all of her troubles.   

Passing Jane by, Malekith kicked Thor and rolled him over so he could observe, “look at me,” the monster commanded, and Thor opened his eyes and watched Jane carefully. The monster raised his hand and Jane’s body followed.   

Suspended in the air, Jane looked towards Thor before black and red mist flowed out of every pore in her body. The Aether looked as beautiful as it was formidable, it thrashed once set free of its host who had dropped down to the ground, eyes unseeing. Thor let out a roar of grief and looked over to his brother, “Loki, now!!”   

Loki dropped the illusion and Thor called Mjolnir into his hand, summoning the largest bolt of lightening that he could and throwing it right at the Aether. It took a few moments, but the Aether burst and became little crystals in the air. It wasn’t over. The Aether could never be destroyed. It was an Infinity Stone! Malekith watched the destruction of the Aether but did not have time to point out how badly they had lost because out of nowhere, Odin appeared and thrust Gungnir through his heart.  

“Your death came at the hand of Odin, monster. I am fulfilling my father’s duty,” Odin growled to the Elf and slowly, Malekith drew his last breath, his eyes closing and the blood from the wound seeping into the black sand below.  

Now, onto other matters. That Kursed. He watched his master die and let out a battle cry so loud that it shook the fallen ships behind him. Odin stood beside his sons with Gungnir in hand.  

“What do we do, father!?” Thor yelled and turned to look at Odin, who now looked weary and old. Thor suspected that things weren’t going to be easy and now that this beast was the last and therefore free to do whatever it wanted, he panicked.   

Loki watched as the Kursed approached and he threw Odin and Thor out of the way of the beast’s arm and he took the brunt, the air being sucked out of him as he flew backwards. This beast will be a tough one to get rid of, he knew, but with the three most powerful men on Asgard fighting against one Dokkalfarian beast, they would win. They would end the war that had been going on for over five thousand years.   

The battle raged for a solid five hours. Magic, hammers and spears flew through the sky and eventually, Loki had the monster cornered. Their victory was at hand! That was until a sword ran through Loki’s stomach and seeped into his organs and blood. ‘Ah,’ Loki thought, looking down at the blade in his stomach before the monster pulled it out and pushed him to the ground, ‘this is true death.’  

Odin got between the Kurse and Loki, taking the next hit and the poisoned blade pierced his heart and the old King stared at the monster in shock before falling to the sand below just as Loki had.   

Thor screamed at the loss of his father and the possible demise of his brother and reared up his lightening before throwing Mjolnir and charging it with as much electricity as possible, burning the monster to a crisp and killing him. The hammer dropped uselessly out of sight, but Thor had bigger problems, he sprinted over to his brother and held him up.  

“Come on, Loki, open your eyes! Open your eyes, little brother!!!” The God yelled and Loki’s eyes opened faintly to look at his brother, “let’s get home, shall we? Can you stand? It’ll be over soon, I promise.”   

Loki weakly got to his feet and pressed a hand to his stomach as he groaned in pain, looking up at his big brother for help with stability and then he turned his head to Odin and remembered his words to him in Frigga’s rooms, ‘If he dies, that is his fault. I shall not help him,’ and he decided that he would stick to that promise. Thor knew Loki would not save their father but that does not mean he didn’t hope Loki would pull out the Time Stone and change his mind to save the Allfather.   

The Bifrost opened again and a squadron of Einherjar emerged and once they saw Odin on the ground, dead, they walked over to his side and lifted him onto the stretcher Heimdall had ordered them to bring. They then turned to look at Thor and bowed their heads with respect, “my King,” they all spoke, and Thor froze in horror while Loki smiled warmly. At least he would not be King again.  

Promptly after returning to Asgard, Thor picked Loki up in his arms and flew across the city with the help of Mjolnir. When they arrived at the Castle, Thor quickly took Loki to the healing chambers and burst through the doors on the verge of tears, “please help my little brother! He’s been poisoned by a Dokkalfarian blade! Please, Lady Eir, you must help!”  

The head healer looked to Loki, curled up in Thor’s arms and frowned. She had seen the Prince in many states when coming into her healing rooms but poisoned? This wasn’t good for anyone. If that poison got to his heart, he would not be alive to see the next sunrise. She nodded her head and walked into a private room with the brothers, helping Loki up onto a bed and frowning with sympathy when Loki cried out in pain from having to move the massive puncture in his stomach.  

Activating the soul forge, Eir took note that Loki’s seiðr was keeping the poison around the wound and she smiled fondly at him, brushing sweaty hair away from his eyes, “you can stop that now, your highness, we have you here. We’re going to help that poison get out of you, I promise.”  

Loki nodded weakly and shuddered in relief when he dropped the spell he was holding, feeling Eir’s seiðr activate and keep the poison at bay. Weakly, he looked to Thor with a soft smile, “g-get Y/N, she n-needs to be here,” he whispered, and Thor nodded, leaving the healing chambers in search of Loki’s soulmate.  

Only minutes later, you rushed into the room and sat beside Loki, his hand in yours and you rested your forehead against his shoulder, “oh, you idiot! At least you didn’t die but poisoned?! Loki, why...” you whispered, and Loki frowned but could not find the strength to respond to his beloved.   

“Let me see the wound, Eir,” you spoke, turning to Eir with a fire in your eyes and then you stood, watching the healer step away to give you some space. Upon viewing the wound, you hovered your hand over it and closed your eyes. A silky black substance left Loki’s wound and wrapped around your hand and seeped into your skin, making you fall to the ground only to be caught by Thor before you could hit the tiles.   

“You silly child! Why would you poison yourself! Prince Loki would’ve made a full recovery in this room! Especially in your condition! That was an incredibly stupid thing to do!” Eir scolded you and conjured up another bed for you beside Loki.  

Loki was confused. Your condition? What condition? You seemed perfectly fine when I saw you this morning! He couldn’t move a muscle, his body now unused to having half of the poison taken from his body and transferred into his beloved. He wanted to turn and look at you, to yell at you for being stupid enough to take the poison! Eir said he would be fine.   

“Loki?” Came a pained voice from beside the bed he was laid on and he wished he could turn to look at his beloved but his neck hurt too much so he just made a pained noise for confirmation, “ah, you’re awake. I’m sorry, honey, if I lose this baby… it’s not your fault.”  

Baby? You weren’t pregnant! He hadn’t- not since- oh. That first night of his imprisonment. But wait! That was three months ago! How were you… why didn’t you tell him before that? In response, he let out a little whine and you smiled tiredly and giggled.  

“Yeah, a baby, Lokes… Your smart brain figured out when we made it too, didn’t you?” you mumbled, your eyes looking up at the golden ceiling with a sad smile on your face until you saw a glimmer of green surround your belly and you turned to look at Loki with a soft smile, “and this is how I know you’ll be an amazing daddy to our child, Loki, you care so much now…”  

Loki smiled to himself before his bed dipped on the side away from you and he reached out to see who it was that dared to bother this moment only to smile when he felt Sleipnir’s comforting magic wrap around his. The little boy was meant to stay with his Auntie Serenity while his parents were in the hospital, but he really did live up to the standards of Lokison.  

“Mummy? Auntie Sere said that you and mama weren’t very well and that I couldn’ visit you but I couldn’ just leave you here in the quiet!” his little boy whined and cuddled up into Loki’s side, shivering with sobs, “I missed you, mummy, those bad guys attacked and Auntie Sere protected me but she was all red at the end…”   

Loki weakly lifted a hand and ran his nails through his son’s hair, smiling lovingly at him and enjoying how innocent his child was to the terrors of the world around him. He couldn’t speak to his boy but he hoped that Sleipnir would understand anyway that Loki was sorry. The boy merely curled up more and looked up at his mummy with a look that Loki knew would shatter his heart if he saw it.  

Days passed and the poison reached its peak and then left, Eir watching the progress between the two of them. Thor’s coronation was set for the day after Loki would be discharged. Discharge day came and Loki took his first steps out into the castle. Things were still the same but so very different now. Odin was dead. Frigga was saved. Sleipnir was safe.  

Two days rolled by before a soft knock rapped on the door and Healer Falanson stepped in, taking in the sight of Prince Loki sitting on the edge of his bed while you were walking around, seiðr glowing on your hands.

"Healer Falanson," Loki greeted with a smile, watching the healer quickly return it. The God kept his back straight as the psychiatrist sat on your bed in front of him. "I assume you're here to discuss the trauma of Svartalfheim?"

"Actually," the healer mumbled and smiled, looking over at you with a silent appreciation that you were in the room, "I'd like to talk about what happened after the Bifrost."

Loki stared at the Healer as if he was mad. He probably is, the prince thought to himself. "No," Loki spat, turning away from the healer to look at you.

"My Prince, you have just experienced so much trauma today, having to go through with a plan that harmed your brother and killed King Odin," the Healer replied softly, watching as Loki's body tensed at the mention of Odin's death, "both of which you feel responsible for."

"I couldn't save Odin," Loki whispered, remembering the blank expression on Odin's dead face, "I didn't wish to save him as I had for Frigga. Tell me that I am wrong and I shall forever insist that I am right."

The healer sighed and nodded his head before leaning forward, "what happened when you fell, Loki?"

Loki shifted in his seat at the thought of ever describing the horror he experienced on that ship so far away from Asgard and the comforts of his youth. "Nothing," he brokenly replied, "I simply got woken up from my childish state to be welcomed into the world of freedom."

"Freedom is life's greatest lie," you whispered, watching as Loki's eyes snapped to you, "once you accept that, in your heart, you will know peace."

Memories flashed behind Loki's eyes of the illusion of you whispering those words into his ear constantly when he begged for his freedom. Unconsciously, he shuffled as far away from you as he could on the bed, not registering Falanson watching his reaction curiously.

"Who told you that, Loki? Who put those words into your mouth?" the Healer pressed on, watching Loki tremble and begin to form tears in his eyes, "did they break you?"

"No," Loki spat, his eyes full of rage and insecurity as he glared at the healer, "no. I committed those acts against Midgard by my own choosing!"

You sighed and shook your head, sitting beside him and slowly slipping your hand into his, "did you? Or are you just saying that to make us feel better?"

Loki weakly looked away from you and ignored the trembling in his hands, "I wish to speak no more of this topic today."

Falanson sighed and nodded, standing from your bed and walking to the door, "then I shall bid you good evening, my Prince."

Exhausted, Loki curled up his legs and laid on his side away from you and drifted off to sleep.

The next day, Thor came bursting into yours and Loki's healing room, slamming the doors behind him as he panted. Seeing you staring at him in shock, the God of Thunder caught his breath and groaned, "they're naming me King the morning after Loki has left the healing halls! I am to be King in the morning!"

You shook your head and crossed your arms as a playful smirk drew across your lips, "goodness, with you at the helm of Asgard, we're all doomed."

Thor groaned and slid down the door dramatically, melancholy thunder rumbling outside, "do not tease me, Y/N, I am very nervous!"

"Nervous, brother?" Loki piped up, taking his nose away from his book to smile at his brother, picking up the same question he had asked a year and a half ago the day he ruined Thor's coronation.

Thor, quickly catching on, shrugged and sighed, "nervous? When have you known me to be nervous?"

"Well," Loki whispered, a smirk spreading across his lips, "there was one time in Nornheim-"

"Ah, those were not nerves, brother, 'twas the thrill of battle!" Thor interjected with a grin, feeling much better when joking with his brother.

The brothers shared a warm smile and you stood by, content with the fact that their bond was growing strong again now that Odin's toxicity was gone.

A few hours later, Lady Eir made her final inspection and you both were allowed to leave, Sleipnir waiting at the door for you and for his mummy.

Loki smiled as he thought of how he still had you and his thoughts as he left the healing rooms mirrored that. ‘I am so lucky to have her.  She deserves the whole Nine Realms.'

As the two of you opened the door to Loki's chambers, the God sighed in relief and grasped your hand tenderly, leading you into the room with Sleipnir following behind. The youngest Lokison hugged Loki's leg before disappearing past the archway and the sound of a door closing indicated that the child had gone to play in his room.

"You didn't need to take the poison for me, Y/N," Loki whispered, watching as you walked over to the window seat and sat down with a grin, your eyes meeting his, "you could have killed yourself."

You hummed and shrugged as your head tilted to the left, "and yet you were willing to die to save Thor."

Loki stiffened and frowned as he made his way over to you. You eyed him warily as he approached, biting your lip as your eyes scanned his leather-clad legs, the shift of the fabric echoing in the silent room as he approached. Distantly, you registered your legs pressing together as you tried to hide your growing arousal.

"I wasn't willing to die," the God hissed, grabbing your hand as you registered the desperation in his eyes, "not after the Bifrost incident. Norns, I would never leave you alone."

Desperately, you stood from the window seat and cupped his cheek, your eyes searching his own for any sense of a lie. His hand reached up to cup your own tenderly and he smiled lovingly at you, "trust me, I could never leave your side. Not now nor ever."

You smiled at him and pressed a soft kiss to his lips before you watched his hands come to cup your stomach, his eyes filling with tears as he felt the budding seiðr of your new baby within your womb.

With a small smile, you rested your hands on his and tenderly whispered, "our second chance."

Loki nodded and smiled at you as he whispered, "vårt nye liv å starte sammen."

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

Translation: vårt nye liv å starte sammen - our new life to start together

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

@lokisgoodgirl @lokisninerealms @evelyn-kingsley @slpnbty2001 @jennyggggrrr @hahaha12123445 @ozymdias @holdmytesseract @itsybitchylittlewitchy @lovingchoices14 @xorpsbane @huntress-artemiss @muddyorbs @nerdy-fangirl-65 @lonadane @silverfire475 @chantsdemarins @iamsherlocked1479 @kittiowolf210 @just-someone11

[duskwoodgirl4life]

Chapter 10

Helen's POV

MC has been in hospital for almost a month now, I reached out to my son to tell him what was happening but I got no reply. I haven't heard from him in so long. Why did he have to get himself into this mess?. We could have helped him now me and Harry are left picking up the pieces. Baby Harry knows his mummy isn't well and hasn't taken his eyes off her. I think being close to her is a comfort to him. I have to do something. I can't allow this to continue any longer. Taking my phone out of my pocket I dial the agent's number and tell them what has happened. They tell me to stay where I am because they think they have narrowed down where Jake is.

They tell me they have even reached out to him, it's not something they would normally do but they needed to do something. I put my phone back in my pocket and sat down taking hold of MCs hand. "Hold on a little longer sweetheart he will be here" I start to draw circles on her hand. I see a smile spread across her face. My eyes light up. Can she feel what I am doing? The smile soon fell when she said his name. "Jake, is that you Jake? I love you so much" tears start to fall from my eyes. Watching MC speak his name knowing the pain she is in breaks my heart into a million pieces.

A few days have passed and MC is still sleeping. She hasn't opened her eyes yet, the doctors are hopeful that she will wake up in the next day or so. I sit trying to read a magazine but my mind can not concentrate. It won't switch off for a second MCs parents came to visit her this morning. They are coming back tomorrow as they were not able to stay long today. I get brought out of my thoughts by my phone ringing I pull it out of my pocket and answer "hello" I stammer into the phone "hi this is agent brown from the FBI, I just wanted to let you know we have him in our care he will be able to come and visit later today" tears start to roll down my face for the first time in months I finally have hope.

Later that day MC started to wake up. It was like she knew something was happening. I see her eyes open and adjust to her surroundings. I can't help but smile "hi MC it's Helen" i see MC searching the room and she sees me sitting next to her. "Where am I?" Intake MCs hand and explain to her where she is. There is a soft knock at the door I go to answer and it's the FBI agent I spoke to before. "We have him with us, we have told him he's safe and will remain in our protection" I run over to him and wrap my arms around him. "Hello Jake, I've missed you so much" I feel Jake wrap his arms around me holding on to me. "I've missed you mum, how is MC? Can I see her?" I pull away from Jake and smile "she's just woken up I think she knew you were coming" I tell Jake to wait for a moment while I go tell MC she has someone who wants to see her.

MC sat up in bed looking towards the door her eyes widened, tears streamed down her face "it's okay MC I'm here, I'm never leaving you ever again" MC started to cry louder as the tears fell Jake wrapped his arms around her holding her tight not letting her go for a second. They stayed like that for a few minutes just taking in each other's warmth MC pulled away slightly looking into Jake's eyes. "J-Jake… I've missed you so much" MC grabbed hold of Jake holding him close to her he wrapped his arms around her and just held her.

"MC I am so sorry, I never meant for any of this to happen. Can you forgive me?" Jake looked down with tears running down his cheek. MC took his hand in hers and held onto it. "Jake there is nothing to forgive, you came back to me that's all I care about" MC wiped away Jake's tears with her thumb. "There is someone who has been missing his daddy" MC picked up Harry and handed him to Jake. "My beautiful little boy, you have grown so much" Harry's face lit up when he locked eyes with his daddy.

MC spent a couple more days in the hospital. Jake never left her side once, he cuddled up to her on the bed placing soft kisses on her cheek. The doctors came in to check on MC and they gave her the all clear and allowed her to go home. The FBI agents were keeping a close eye on Jake and his family making sure they didn't come to any harm. Once MC was back home Jake helped her up the stairs so she could get some rest. Jake got MC into bed covering her up with the blanket Helen and Harry were looking after the baby so Jake and MC could spend some time together.

"I've missed you so much Jake I've had dreams about this moment for months" a tear fell from MCs eyes Jake wiped away the tear with his thumb. "I've missed you so, so much baby I'm never leaving you and Harry ever again" MC reached out her hand to Jake to lay next to her "please stay with me don't leave me alone" Jake was quick to take MC in his arms holding her close to his chest. "Hey baby, I am never ever leaving you ever again it hurts so much being apart from you I'm so in love with you MC it hurts" MC looked up at Jake she could see in his eyes he meant every word he said.

"When all this is over me,you and Harry are going away for a few days just the 3 of us spend some time together" a smile spread across MCs face for the first time in months she had something to smile about. "I'd love that so much Jake" something sparked in MC and she grabbed hold of Jake and kissed him with heat and passion. At first Jake was shocked but he soon relaxed into the kiss, his hands running all over MCs body. "I've missed you Jake I need this" Jake looked into MCs eyes they were full of lust. Before Jake could reply MC had taken off his shirt and was missing him all over his chest.

MC pushed Jake down onto the bed running her hands all over his smooth chest, she unbuckled Jake's belt throwing it on the floor next she unfastened his jeans pulling them down along with his boxers. MC started to lick Jake's cock as she did it got harder and harder. She started licking the tip of his cock moans escaping from Jake's mouth MC started to move her head up and down as she took Jake's full length in her mouth. Jake moaned as MC picked up the paces until she felt his hot thick cum hitting the back of her throat.

Jake let out a loud moan as he kept cumming into MCs mouth, once Jake had come down from his high he sat up and kissed MC his hands taking her shirt and bra off. He started to play with her already hard nipples, twisting his tongue around each nipple. MC let soft moans out as Jake played with her nipples he then pulled off her pants and knickers pushing her down onto the bed. He pushes one finger inside MCs pussy MC clinging onto the sheets as Jake pushes another finger deep inside her pussy.

Jake felt MCs walls tighten up around his fingers as MC cum all over them over and over again. When he took his fingers out he started to pole MCs pussy with his hard cock he slowly pushed the tip into her hole. Each time pushing further and further into her moans escaping both out their mouths as Jake quickened his pace. It had been such a long time since they had been this close to each other. With one final push Jake felt MCs walls tighten around his cock as she cum all over him. Jake pushed again, filling MC up with his hot thick cum.

Jake pulled out of MC and lay next to her both catching their breath.

The next day MC woke up with a smile on her face, she turned to see Jake was still sleeping. He looked so cute laying there MC brushed her fingers against his face placing a soft kiss on his lips. She snuggled into him and she could feel his warmth, a warm feeling spread throughout MCs body. Jake started to move wrapping his arms around MCs waist MC smiled as she snuggled into him. "Good morning beautiful" Jake placed a soft kiss on MCs lips "good morning baby, I've missed your gorgeous blue eyes" Jake slightly blushed at MCs comment.

They both got up Jake seeing the baby while MC got ready to feed him, Jake handed Harry to MC so she could feed him. After MC had fed the baby Jake got him dressed and took him downstairs. "Good morning you two I've made breakfast" Helen stood with a big smile on her face. "Thanks mum I've missed your cooking" Jake put Harry in his highchair and sat down. MC came down and walked into the kitchen wrapping her arms around Jake's neck and kissing him on the cheek.

After breakfast Jake and MC went for a walk with Harry in his pram, when they got back they went and sat in the garden with the weather being so nice. While they sat hiding hands and talking Jake's phone started to ring he pulled his phone out and looked at the caller ID. "Hello, yes I can do that, see you tomorrow at 10:00am" a concerned look was visible on MCs face. "That was the FBI they need to speak with me tomorrow about the files I gave them" MCs grip on Jake's hand grew. "Please don't leave me again Jake" tears ran down MCs cheek. "Hey, baby it's okay you can come with me they just want to go over a few things" Jake wrapped his arms around MC holding her close.

[wilygryphon]

Ragnarok de Dies Irae (Kingdom Hearts Fic Idea)

I had the idea for a Post-KH3 Kingdom Hearts fanfic a few years ago, but I am currently in no place to start writing it (due to having two big stories ongoing, although I did start on an introductory chapter as a taste a while back). I outlined a bunch of ideas for myself, and I'm throwing them up here for you to see. And, if someone is interested in writing it and wants to collab with me and my ideas, I'll leave the door open.

Premise:

Centuries ago, the World was flooded with darkness and divided.  Recently, a fabrication of the x-blade was forged, then destroyed.  The walls between worlds shattered and many worlds were pulled into darkness.  A world made of darkness materialized, and a door between the Realms of Light and Darkness materialized, then was sealed, and the dark world dissolved and the worlds returned to light, though some remained asleep.  A Kingdom Hearts made out of captured hearts was created, then blown to bits, only for a world to be generated within it and destroyed.  Then, two Keyblade Wielders harrowed the Realm of Sleep.  While this happened, one man generated a time loop to enact his plans.  One of the wielders bent reality and time to resurrect the dead.  Finally, Kingdom Hearts was summoned and corrupted, then purified.  The fabric of the worlds was bent again to save one more person, and the savior was taken in her place.

Reality is fragile.  Too much abuse will tear holes in space and time.  That has happened.  Delicate barriers protecting the worlds from dangerous forces have come undone, and powerful entities have begun to make their way here.  These gods have been sealed off for a reason, and now their very presence threatens the worlds.

Riku and Kairi are still recovering from the loss of Sora, with Kairi turning to the gym and vigilantism to vent her frustration.  Donald and Goofy mourn as well, though Donald is trying to hide it.  Roxas, Axel, Xion, Isa, Aqua, Terra, and Ventus are still trying to put the pieces back together and figure their lives out from here on in.  Naminé is still getting used to the crowd and having friends.  The Radiant Garden Restoration Committee, now aided by Ansem and his apprentices, are putting their town back together stronger than ever before.  Four recompleted Nobodies gather, wanting to uncover the mysteries of their lost past.  And the Foretellers, excluding Ava, now guided by Luxu, are preparing the future that their Master once saw, while Maleficent and Pete observe from a distance.

Master Yen Sid detects a series of anomalies in the worlds and reaches out to Mickey and Aqua to alert them.  They tell Riku, and Kairi asks to come along, wanting to contribute and not feel useless.  Searching Dwarf Woodlands, they face strange new monsters and a hostile mirror demon.  Kairi breaks down, because while she finally gets to explore a new world, Sora is not by her side.  When she is pulled into a mirror by the demon and sees Sora’s Heartbinder, then hears his voice when she touches it, she begins to have faith that Sora can be found.  Sharing their findings with Yen Sid, the sorcerer advises that they gather their allies and search the worlds for information on the anomalies.  He also grants permission to search for Sora, though he prohibits the use of complicated measures (a la the Power of Waking which doomed him in the first place) to do so.

Cut back to six months ago.  Sora wakes up in the middle of a traffic intersection in a strange city.  He tries to get help from passerby, but they do not react to his presence, as if he were a ghost.  As he wanders, he is watched by several winged figures and a mysterious man in a black coat.  The Reapers speculate on what could have brought him to Shibuya, since he does not seem to have entered the UG in the usual way.  Regardless, they elect to put him into the Reapers’ Game to keep under close watch.

[stellar-waves]

staring down the sun [32] *

⏯ chapter index

⚠ warnings: borderline attempted sexual assault, taunting, canon-typical gun violence, injury, drugging, angst on top of angst

. . .

this body holding me

. . .

Exhaustion. Pure exhaustion. Her entire body aches, her arms are sore from being tied behind her for so long, and her eyes are puffy from the cruel cycle of fighting back tears. Elena knows the bruises are already morphing into a kaleidoscope of colors over her skin, and the more she resists Obsidian’s interrogations, the more frequent the hits come across her body. 

It’s been a few days since her last confession. And now seems like a good time to confess her sins…all of them. She closes her eyes with a deep breath, exhaling slowly as she silently apologizes to God. I lost sight of the greater good, she admits in her mind. I killed people. I lied. I failed to protect Connor and Murphy. I failed You. 

Suddenly, the door opens, forcing Elena’s eyes to widen. Two men enter, one dressed in black tactical gear who remains by the door with his arms crossed, while the other, clad in a dark grey suit, approaches her. He pulls the other chair over, setting it directly in front of her as he places his briefcase on the concrete floor by his feet. With a narrowed gaze, he smooths his navy blue tie as he sits down.

His tone is neither aggressive nor condescending…yet. “You know who I am, right?” Elena nods, and Darren Hawkins grins. “Good. Because I know who you are, too.” His smile is evil, just like Nikolai’s. “You’re the ‘therapist.’” he clarifies with finger quotes.

Elena holds her tongue, knowing she has to be the spy she used to be to try and still protect the boys. 

Hawkins leans forward casually, clasping his hands together. “It’s just that…I need to talk to someone.” He rubs his jaw, a feigned sense of sincerity coating his tongue as he speaks. “With the election coming up, I’m worried that I’m not doing enough. Like, everyone expects me to clean up this mess that these fucking Irish vigilantes made. It’s a lot, you know?”

Lips sealed, Elena feels her blood boil. And Hawkins can sense it, but she can’t help the emotional response her tired body shows. The politician smirks. “Of course, you know. Because you helped them.” He leans back calmly. “I have to admit, you’re a feisty one, aren’t you? Killing my men when all they wanted to do was talk after you pissed off Agent Walsh.”

She should have known. She should have trusted that gut feeling she and Smecker had that night she brought the boys to the church. Her throat is dry as she pushes the question out. “Walsh works for you?”

“Initially, no. He was so hellbent on bringing the Saints back to prison, thought it’d bring him that promotion he’d been wanting. But you really pissed him off, and that was his first mistake: letting you go. So I paid him off, told him not to pursue you and the MacManus brothers in order to…let things play out.”

She should have known.

Hawkins shakes his head, still smug as a motherfucker. “You and your sweet, killer leprechauns helped me clean house. Fuck, I gotta thank you! Eliminating Lombardo and his operation has allowed me to work the mafia in our favor. I mean, it’s not like you all didn’t already have blood on your hands.”

Elena narrows her eyes. “Is that all you wanted? For the Saints to do your dirty work?” The politician smiles, and the silent rage builds in her chest again. “But those girls…Saint Agnes…” 

“They were a message…to you, to your boys, to the world. The Saints are not here to save the day.”

Elena tries to shift, pulling her wrists against the rope wrapped tightly around them, searching for a way to break free as she glares at Hawkins. “What do you want?”

His sadistic smile grows. “I wanted everything you know,” he says, tapping Elena’s forehead with his index finger. “All along, you were the one who would lure the Saints into doing what we want. Play to their religious calling, convince them they’re destroying all that which is evil so that which is good shall flourish.” He pauses momentarily, almost solemn, until that evil smile cracks across his face. “That’s how it goes, right? Pretty sure that’s what you wrote down.” She holds her breath as she watches Hawkins reach into his briefcase, pulling out her black hardbound notebook. “This is what I wanted, Elena: your intimate knowledge of the MacManus brothers.”

Elena feels her veins tighten with adrenaline as Hawkins stands up, flipping through the pages. The realization that she’s responsible for all of this sits at the back of her throat, threatening to spill out of her. 

“Didn’t realize you’d have feelings for them, though,” Hawkins adds, an insidious smile curling up his face. “Especially this one…Connor, is it?” He holds the notebook open to a sketch of only Connor. The scribbled lines somehow still captured the intensity of his stare, how he’d hold Elena’s gaze without saying a word. 

Hawkins slams the notebook shut right in front of Elena’s face, causing her to flinch as a tear silently falls down her cheek. “God, this is going to be so much fun! You’ve gotten him to fall in love with you, so now he has to come save you!”

“If you want them to do your dirty work, why frame them for murder?” Elena asks, her voice ragged and dry.

“‘Them?’ Don’t you mean, ‘us?’ I thought you were a part of this, sweetheart.” He waits for her reaction but can’t help breaking into a laugh. “Doesn’t matter. I had to get your attention somehow. I can make that story go away, make it so the MacManus brothers are actually heroes in the end as long as they play nice, but if they decide to piss me off, well…” Hawkins narrows his evil eyes toward her. “Well, let’s just say being suspects for killing one of New York’s finest will be the least of their worries.”

The web that Hawkins and his Obsidian agents are tangling makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up, and her blood boils. Either Connor and Murphy are being manipulated into doing all of Obsidian’s dirty work, or they’re being led into a trap that will get them killed. 

Hawkins pulls his chair closer to her and sits with his legs spread wide, pushing his crotch to almost touching her knees. She squirms as she feels his body heat up with a sickening arousal, but he slams his legs together, holding the lower half of her body tight as he leans in. 

“You know, Nikolai Petrov was a very good friend of mine,” he starts with a low, threatening tone, and every fiber in Elena’s body pulses with fear. “He told me about you, the American fooling everyone into believing she was Russian. Figured you’d be a good fuck…” He touches Elena’s cheek as he looms over her, sliding his fingers down to her neck and caressing behind her ear, brushing over the gold sparrow earring. She can’t help the tears pooling in her eyes, as this man might actually…and there’s nothing she can do about it. 

He grins and pats her cheek, snarling, “But you’re not worth the fight.”

Elena exhales quickly as Hawkins stands up, pulling the chair away from her and turning his attention to the agent by the door. “Speaking of, where the fuck is Natasha?”

The name instantly makes Elena’s eyes somehow widen and narrow simultaneously. It has to be another fucked up coincidence.

She darts her eyes back up to look at Hawkins, watching him adjust his tie and jacket before he snaps, breaking the silence that lasted longer than he liked. “Are you fucking deaf?” he yells at the agent, who jumps and quickly walks over, looking like a deer caught in headlights. “Well? Where is she?”

“About that, sir,” the man hesitates, nervously looking back at the door before turning to the angry politician. “She, uh…we haven’t seen her since the rally.”

A sarcastic smile curls across Hawkins’ lips. “You’re kidding me.” Without warning, Hawkins grabs the man and knees him hard in the ribs, throwing him to the floor. “You fucking lost her?” Hawkins yells as the man groans in pain on his side. “And you’re telling me now?”

“A lot of people got separated, sir,” the agent pleads, struggling to sit up. “We were waiting to see if she’d make it back—”

“No, you fucked up!” Hawkins yells, hands on his hips as he glares at the man still on the floor. “Get up,” he orders. But when the man struggles to stand, Hawkins kicks the young man. “Get the fuck up!” 

The agent finally stands, wincing in pain but trying to hide it all the same. Hawkins lowers his voice to a menacing level and holds his hand out to the agent. “Give me your gun.” Elena watches the agent’s face fall as he reaches at his hip holster, hesitating again. “Give me your God damn gun,” Hawkins orders again, raising his voice more. The agent hands his gun to Hawkins and within a second, BANG!

Elena jumps against her restraints, and her ears ring as she watches Hawkins hand the gun off to another agent. Two more men come in and take the body away while Hawkins pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket, wiping his hands before turning back to his hostage.

“I’ll take care of you later, sweetheart,” he growls, placing his hand on her neck and caressing it like before. A chill runs under Elena’s skin, and she writhes at his touch, his voice whispering, “…after I take care of your boys.”

The adrenaline builds momentum in her veins, fueled by a dangerous mix of fear, anger, and virtue. But the edges around her begin to blur, and her head suddenly feels heavy to hold up. “You look tired,” Hawkins derides. He leans in, holding up a tranq dart with a cunning smile. “Figured you could use some rest.”

Sure enough, everything fades to black.

. . .

“Oh, Elena, my dear. Quite a mess ye’ve gotten tangled in, yeah?” 

Elena slowly opens her eyes as she recognizes that thick Irish accent. She pushes herself up, rubbing her face as everything fades into focus. “I know, I know. ‘Be careful what ye ask for…’” She lets out a long breath, swallowing the embarrassment she feels flushing her face. “I know, Ma.”

Her mother joins her on the floor, sitting with her legs criss-crossed and her hands folded in her lap. “Ye think that’s what I’m on about here? To say I told ye so?”

She can’t help feeling like a little girl again. Despite growing up so close to her mother and being able to tell her everything, Elena is still so God damn afraid of disappointing her. 

“Ye have to know I’m proud of ye, Elena.” Her mother says, her eyes twinkling. “It’s true.”

Veritas.

Elena huffs out a laugh that immediately morphs into crying, tears streaming down her face from the vast spectrum of emotions that flood her soul. 

“I could always count on ye to do the right thing, especially when it’s not the easiest thing to do.” 

Ma reaches over to wipe her tears, and Elena frowns, ashamed because it sure as hell doesn’t feel like she’s been doing the right thing. And no matter how much she wants to admit that out loud, she can only mutter something she’s held inside for far too long. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“Then keep fighting,” her mother states bluntly. “Don’t ye dare give up. As long as ye keep yer faith, ye’ll never be alone. I’ll always be with ye.” She holds Elena’s face, moving her thumb slowly across her skin. “And God knows that boy will always have yer heart.”

Blushing, Elena hangs her head and laughs again. So everyone knows even though Connor and Elena could never actually say the words. Figures. But it brings relief, washing over her as she relaxes her shoulders.

And then Ma says what she would always say whenever Elena needed to hear it the most. “Muinín dom.” Trust me.

Sunlight breaks in, casting a golden glow across the room. Elena lifts her eyes, following the light over her mother’s shoulder to the doorway. Her breath hitches when she sees the man standing there, his eyes locked on her. Connor…

Her mother smiles knowingly, still rubbing her daughter’s cheek. “Coinníonn sé d'anam,” she assures gently. He holds your soul.

. . .

. . .

⏮ [31]

[33] ⏭

[m5ria]

Chapter 24: The Mistake

“Marvelous job! Ha ha ha!” Alastor claps in my ears.

I hardly hear him as I run to the Imp to check the pulse. He’s a cold statue, with terrified unmoving eyes. His throat is covered by a layer of ice.

“No... No no no!” 

I try to break the ice with my bare hands, to scratch it with my claws, to melt it with my body heat. It’s useless. The Imp’s body is caged in my ice. The Imp’s soul left this world.

My efforts gradually decrease in speed, as does my mind. With no way of saving the Imp, I finally realize what happened. Anger fills me.

“ALASTOR!” I jump to my feet, seeing red in front of my eyes. 

Seeing him so happy watching me try to save a dead demon is my breaking point. I immediately launch at him with my claws, only for him to disappear. 

“Hahaha! I thought you’ve progressed at teleportation, my dear!” he calls me from behind.

I turn viciously only to see him snap his fingers and light a spark on the Imp’s corpse. 

“WHY?” I scream and then teleport, only to stumble on the Imp’s corpse. Alastor vanished again. “I thought you were protecting him!” From me. 

“Ah, yes,” he speaks from somewhere on my left. “I was!”

“You were burning his insides!” I stand up and face him, with the burning corpse between us. “You wanted me to use all of my power! You meant for this to happen!”

“There had to be one way to motivate you,” he sniggers, raising his staff to make the fire bigger. “It might be possible that I’ve underestimated you.” His words are in total contrast with the look of hunger on his face.

“Underes... Do you realize what you’ve done?” I yell.

“No no no, darling, this is all you! Ha ha ha!” he winks as if we both know the same joke. Then, he starts walking. “There is no using these powers if you don’t have any control over them! I hope this serves as a lesson! Now, let’s move on to the last issue for today!”

He turns to where I was, only to find the space empty. I teleported as far away as I could, which means outside the hotel. I start running on the streets, keeping my tears in check. I blindly follow the road I went on yesterday and arrive at the graveyard.

A lump in my throat threatens to make me spill my guts. Trees and gravestones whirl around me. Before I know it, I am embracing my knees on my mother’s tomb.

I wish she could reach me with her zombie arms and drag me underground. I wish I could hug her one more time. So many years have passed, and I still remember how it felt when she was around.

Would she be by my side, though? I killed an innocent. Even if he was a demon, he was born in Hell. He could have been someone good. Someone honest. Someone deserving of a life, even in Hell.

It’s not my first killing accident. I killed one man by mistake when I started living alone. There was one time when I was hunting in the French Alps when I heard someone calling for help and I ran to their aid. There was a man who was cliff-climbing, hanging on only one ice axe. The other one was lost. He was relieved to see me and threw a rope for me to tie it to a tree. I did it and gave the remaining part for him to climb. Only that I didn’t choose the right tree. It seemed strong, but it was rotten inside. And I watched the man falling and hitting the bottom with a horrible sound. 

I stood there on my knees all evening, staring at the guy. He was alone. Nobody accompanied him. So I stayed with him.

That sound chaperoned me through the next few years. It followed me right until the end when the exact thump came from me. 

I raise my head to my mother’s anagram name. I see that some leaves are covering some letters, so I snatch them. Not letters. Numbers.

The year she died. And the year of Extermination. The same one.

Those fucking Exterminators got rid of her so quickly?? When there are other demons whose death would make Hell a better place?

I clasp some earth in my hands. There’s no way I’m going to calm down now. I protect my mother’s gravestone and then I unleash myself.

☽

When I’m done, the graveyard doesn’t look like a bombed area anymore. It looks like an ice park. Besides my mother’s gravestone, there are no others left. Only pieces are buried in the earth and ice.

I look at my mother’s gravestone. The only one standing. And I realize I can’t leave it like this. It would only attract attention. So I start digging a hole and bury the stone.

I leave the graveyard empty-hearted. Go out hunting, again. It probably is dinner time, but I don’t want to face him yet. I stay in the woods and watch the red sky darken to almost a deep purple.

Squirrels, rabbits, deer, wild boars. How come I can kill these innocent creatures so easily and can’t face killing a demon? How come I am that weak-hearted?

There’s no way anyone would buy these at this late hour, so I bury them for tomorrow. I return to the hotel and then teleport to my room, avoiding everyone. 

Five minutes later, I hear a knock on my door. I debate on pretending to be asleep, but it would raise unwanted questions, so I mumble a “Yes”.

Charlie opens the door hesitatingly with a plate. 

“Hi, Diana! We’ve missed you at dinner!”

I discard her polite words and answer her honestly: “I... Wasn’t feeling well.”

“I’ve managed to save you a piece of pie,” she shows me the plate. It smells divine.

“Thank you, Charlie!” I smile. It feels hollow.

  “Can I... Sit?” she gestures to my bed. I nod and she takes her seat, giving me the pie.

I start eating it slowly, despite my stomach’s hunger. It tastes divine.

“This is so...” I start mumbling before I stop myself. It’s not nice to speak with food in the mouth.

However, Charlie only laughs sweetly. 

“I’m so happy you like it!” her smile is so true and lovely. So unlike Alastor’s.

“Whose recipe was this again?” I ask her curiously.

“My mother’s” she answers. “She used to experiment with so many ways to exploit apples in the kitchen.”

“Used to?” the words slip from my mouth. I silently curse myself, but Charlie only continues:

“I haven’t seen her in a while,” she confesses, looking at her hands on her lap. “Neither my dad. Since I started this whole project. They didn’t support me. Well, at least my dad. My mom...” she sighs. “I don’t know. I’ve been meaning to call her, but she’s always busy.”

“Busy with what?” 

I feel her hesitation. Maybe this is when I’ve asked too much.

“There are some disturbing movements in power,” she finally says. She chose her words carefully. “My mother tries to keep the peace.”

Political arguments. Are these part of the reason the hotel was attacked?

“Did you enjoy your time today?” she suddenly asks me.

I stare at her confused. My time where? Did she find out about the ballroom? Or the graveyard?

“What do you...?” I start but she cuts in:

“At the pool.” I breathe relieved. “I was afraid the others would destroy it beyond repair, but I always underestimate Niffty’s powers!”

“It was amazing,” I admit. “I couldn’t have imagined such a peaceful place down here!”

“I know...” she sighs dreamily. “I should make more time to use it. It’s the best place to see shooting sinners.”

“Shooting what?” I ask her, confused.

“Shooting sinners. I think the equivalent to Earth is shooting stars,” she ponders. “They’re light streaks on the sky that fall wherever they might be attached to in Hell. They’re fun to watch and wish for something.”

I look at her quite amazed. I was a shooting sinner. I ended up in the blue forest. It makes so much more sense now.

“Wow...” I whisper.

“You know,” she turns her whole body to me. “If... If there’s something bothering you, something on your heart... You can tell me. If there’s anyone you want to talk to here...”

“Why do you say that?” I regard her carefully. It was so sudden of her to say that, it took me by surprise.

“It’s just... I totally understand if you might like the solitude. But, there’s this annoying thought of mine that you might... not like it here. I’ve noticed that you keep yourself away from the others. And I totally understand! This is new for you. And maybe Vaggie is not as welcoming as she should be. Or the others. But, just so you know, I am here if you need any help.”

She looks at me with pure honesty, encouraging me, but not in a demanding way. It is so rare to meet someone down here that seems to care about your well-being, mostly because no one is well here. Her whole persona intrigues me. 

Sweet words are more dangerous than hidden knives. And she is the Princess of Hell. She has both.

But it doesn’t seem to be an act. She can be whatever she wants. She can be the bitchiest, most privileged girl in all of Hell. Yet, she might as well be Heaven's sent angel in disguise.

These situations confuse me in a displeasing way. 

I choose to test her.

“Charlie,” I start speaking, not looking at her, “are there any... moments, when you made a big mistake? Like, a disastrous one. One that you can’t take back?”

“Of course there are!” she giggles sweetly. “I used to date a controlling prick during high school!”

“No, I mean...” I sigh, not finding my words. “A fatal one. Like... Killing someone.”

She regards me for a few seconds. I’ve made a mistake. Again. This is the moment she’ll kick me out. There’s no way she’ll keep me here when I killed someone.

“There are...” she starts speaking, “times when... I did some things. Some on purpose, some by mistake. Some which I regret and some which I don’t. I lived quite a long life, Diana. I look like a twenty-year-old girl, but I am decades of mistakes and ruined hopes. Maybe this hotel is one of them too. I don’t know.”

She locks her eyes with me intensively and continues in a confident voice: “What I know is that my mistakes don’t define me. My past, my role, they don’t define me. I define myself, if it makes sense. I choose what I want to do with my mistakes, my past, my role. And now, I choose to help sinners like yourself to be given a better (after)life.”

I look away, suddenly too shy. She gently grabs my chin and redirects it to her.

“I see you, Diana. The way you see me. I believe your place is not here. I don’t care what you did to fall here. What I care about is to see you fly from here.”

I can’t listen to her convincing words anymore. Not when I lied to her. Not when I made a deal with the Radio Demon. Not when I killed an innocent demon only to overpower him.

I nod mechanically and she releases me. She looks at me with endearing eyes, just like my mother used to. Funny how time and death can’t steal these memories of her.

I hope she doesn’t suffer. Wherever she may be. If she still exists.

She does exist, though. She exists in me. In my memories of her. I know what I have to do.

I have to survive. To keep her memory alive.

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

[perseverantdt]

Reaching Out

You can't help someone who doesn't want to help themselves. But, perhaps, you can understand them first.

Word Count: 2292

A/N: This is an old side story from a WIP I've been making for quite a while now. After fleshing out the characters and the plot a bit more, this story is no longer canon to the main plot and as such, I would rather share it while I'm still working on more chapters for consistent posting.

Last time I was in this realm, Santhe and I slowly died as we remained fused. I pulled the both of us into this realm, hoping to escape the battle and let Santhe save himself. It was our physical body that took damage. Because of that, I should have been the only one who died. He didn't want to unfuse so he followed me to the grave.

Now, he's stuck in this realm, forced to live with the nightmare that his people had to endure. I should have been here much earlier. I should have been here from the very beginning, right when we took a rest at that inn. I felt him use his magic when the Santhe I was with appeared to be asleep. Instead, I kept hoping for something that would never happen. I hoped that everything that happened then was just a vivid dream. That we were just stuck in an unfamiliar world after staying in this realm for too long.

When it was apparent that everything did happen, I just ignored him. When he tried to confront me about it, I acted as if I didn't remember any of it. He asked me to listen to him, but I left, blinded by hate against those who sealed his people away. I wanted to protect him. But in my efforts to do so, I drove him even further into despair. What kind of a friend am I?

...

Focus, Ava. I have to be strong. I'm here to pull him out of his guilt, not to reflect on my own regrets. Besides... it'll be easier to do that once we're together. I just need to convince him that it's not his fault.

Where is he, though? Mind's Trance is a large realm. Plus, this place changes appearance based on the thoughts of the people near the area. I can't search this place easily. Maybe I can use this realm's properties to find him? If he's been here for quite a while, the area around him should look... darker. It should feel sadder. It should be more dangerous. But where could something...

That castle in the distance. It looks like it's enveloped in a massive thunderstorm. Could he be there? Why there, of all places? What's in that castle that...

He's a prince. He's the prince of Etheria. Of course he'd be there. His home would be there. But... how did he get there? That looks like a 3 day walk. He must have teleported there at some point. Could I do that too? I know I can use his magic but, with what just happened, he has to be recovering. I shouldn't use it too much. I'll try once.

I called into Santhe's soul and focused on the destination. I have not tried teleportation but I've felt how he uses this. I just need to focus his magic and imagine the destination. How it looks and if... there are places where I can easily get there. I felt some areas where I could feel myself getting pulled. I think he called them displacement points. One of them is level to the ground while the other is farther and a few spans above the ground. The farther one might be where he is but I'll use the closer point. I'm using magic from someone who's still unconscious.

I closed my eyes and imagined myself getting pulled to the point. When I opened them again, I found myself in front of the castle. This place has seen better days. There's all sorts of holes in the walls, all leading to what looks like an empty abyss. The banners adorning the place are all ripped up. Strangely, the lights appear to be shattered but no shards are present on the floor. At least it looks like he's cleaning the place.

I went deeper into the castle, using the other displacement point as a guide on where to go. Everywhere I look, there's holes all leading to the abyss. In some parts, entire chunks of walls are missing. Though... there's a clear pattern. It looks like the disrepair is getting worse. I'm definitely getting closer.

As I approached what could be the courtyard, I noticed a dark figure beside what appeared to be a fountain. Iris told me that there should be no one else here but this... this isn't how I remember Santhe looked like. Magical bodies tended to emit a weak light. This one doesn't. He looks similar to Santhe, except without a bluish tint. It looks like a... physical body.

Did he retain the body we shared when we fused? It makes sense to do so; we never unfused. But that would mean that I shouldn't be separated. If he's in the body we shared, it wouldn't make sense for me to be in my own body. What's going on?

"Santhe?' I called out. He turned to look at me. His expression seemed blank. His eyes looked like there was nothing behind them.

"Look who showed up," he said. "What do you want?"

"I want to talk to you."

He scoffed. "Last time I tried to talk to you, you ignored me."

"Please. I'm here now." Why is he being like this? This... isn't the Santhe I know. We fought sometimes, but never like this.

"I bet you didn't even know I'm here. Iris told you to come here, didn't she?"

... She did. I... I would not have been here if not for her. But... "I knew," I said. "I knew you were here."

"Then why?" There's... there's an angry look on his face. "Why did you let things be like this?"

"I wanted to protect you."

"Protect me? You abandoned me! You got me killed earlier! How is that meant to protect me?"

"That was an accident. We both know I—"

"Wasn't aiming for me? So what? It's my fault that I died? That because I tried to prevent you from killing someone, I got myself killed?"

"What? No! I—"

"What is it, then? The way I—"

"At least let me finish my sentence!" I shouted at him. He got startled with it. Did he even realize what he was doing? He wouldn't be that startled if he was being deliberate with that.

"You..." he said with a deep sigh. "You know I don't have to listen to you, right?"

"Still... I'm here to help."

"How can I even trust you? You're the reason I'm stuck here."

"I..." I stopped to think of what to say. This... this isn't the Santhe I know. It is him, but he's not the same Santhe I'm friends with 70 years ago.

"I want to fix my mistakes," I said.

"And? How is that supposed to make me trust you?"

"It... probably wouldn't."

He scoffed at my response. "You got that right, at least." Does he really distrust me that much?

"Just listen to me, please. I'm not here to hurt you."

"You don't have to say anything to hurt me. Just you being here already does that for me."

What... what does that mean? "Are you alright?"

"Am I?" He turned towards me with what looked like a mix of a tired and angry glare. "My death, which was very preventable, caused my people to be sealed into this place. I've got to live knowing that. Would you be alright with that?"

Is... Is this why he's here? He's not actually stuck here. He's willingly staying here to... avoid dealing with it?

... Can't say that I blame him. He's... we've been through so much. It would have been better if we never got revived. At least, that was that. We wouldn't have to deal with the aftermath. But now, with whatever happened that caused us to be revived, we have to live with the consequences of our actions.

"I have to deal with it too, you know."

"So what? That doesn't change what I have to go through."

"I know. I'm saying that you don't have to go through it on your own."

"Can't we just..." He sighed. "Can't we just let it be?"

"What else can we do? We're tired of running away. Hiding won't change anything. What else do we do other than dealing with it?"

"I can just stay here."

"What if someone comes here? Come on, Santhe. We both know how this place works."

He looked up, straight towards the other displacement point. He knows that anyone can just enter Mind's Trance and, if they know how this place works, modify this place to their whims. That point... is definitely something important to him. It's not something that he wants changed.

"You're just going to barge to my room, then?" So that point leads to his room.

"No. I'm here to talk to you, but I need you to be willing to talk to me."

"What if I refuse to talk regardless?"

"I'll wait here until you're ready."

I sat down on the ground, ready to wait for what he's going to do next. He looked at me with a piercing gaze. I... I could feel him stabbing me with a dozen daggers just with that stare. It's a soul read, but it feels like he's trying to rip me apart. I called out to his soul, but he didn't respond.

"Just leave me alone," he suddenly said and turned his back to me. "Please. I'm just tired of everything."

"That's why I'm—"

"No. You don't get it. I'm tired of everything. I'm tired of living a life that I shouldn't have. I'm tired of trying to be someone I can't be. I..." He stopped and looked up, towards the point. "I just want to take a rest."

Dust started to fall from all over his body. It looked similar to the dust that came out of our body back then. Is he...

"Santhe," I called to him. "We don't have to be the same as we were back then. We're not. We haven't died back then. We can just—"

"I don't want to change. We were happy back then. We had a nice life back then, unburdened by the consequences of our actions. Don't you want that life?"

I sighed. "I do but... we can't take the past back."

"We can recreate that here. Just like we've done countless times before."

"And live a lie, knowing that none of it is real? Santhe, that's not really what you want, right? I..." I looked into his soul, trying to read his thoughts. Still, nothing came up. "I know you don't."

He looked straight to the ground. I know he's trying to figure everything out but this isn't working out. He wants to stay here but it's not the best for him. Especially if this place is starting to disintegrate by the second.

I heard faint sobs coming from him. His dusting started intensifying. He's breaking down. I quickly ran towards him and quickly hugged him to comfort him. He usually doesn't like contact but... he needs it.

After a few seconds, he returned the hug even tighter. It felt calming. It reminds me of the time we lost track of each other in Mind's Trace long ago. I... I don't want to let go.

"I..." he said in a whisper. "I want to hate you. You've done so much harm to me. You caused my death. Twice. You're not letting me get what I want. And yet... I can't. Even at my worst... I can't bring myself to hate you."

"I'm sorry."

"No. Don't apologize to me. Apologize to..." He took a deep sigh. "...to him. I'm not the Santhe you're looking for."

"What... what do you mean by that?"

He pushed me away, separating me from his dusting body, which intensified even more.

"Does... does the Santhe you're looking for have a physical body?"

"No, but I've never seen him in this realm."

"That's true but you know this body. This isn't Santhe. This..." He raised his hands. "This is the two of us. This is the result of our mistake, with the mind of the one you're looking for. What do you think I am?"

The result of our mistake... the mind of Santhe... I think I know how to get through to him now. It's not going to be an easy task, but it's possible.

"Our time has been up 70 years ago. Yours isn't. I failed to save the both of us. Please. Do better than me."

I looked towards the displacement point. I felt a weird aura coming from the place. I can't take long. If all this destruction, along with this person, is the result of Santhe's emotions, it'll eventually reach his room. He might be trying his best to maintain it as his safe room, but I don't think it'll hold forever.

"I'll try."

"Goodbye, Ava."

"Goodbye."

I felt everything around me warp as the Santhe in front of me teleported away. I wanted to head towards Santhe's room but... something felt wrong.

"You know," I shouted. "If you really are Santhe as well, can you... help me talk to him? You don't have to do it right now but... you know I won't be able to do it alone."

Nothing responded. But I expected that. Santhe... isn't up for conversation right now. He's...

Did I even do the right thing? She just wanted to protect everyone and yet, because of me, she accidentally killed me.

He's awake. I should get going now. I don't have much time. I closed my eyes and focused on the other displacement point.