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marie-swriting · 2 years

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I Still Miss You - Benedict Bridgerton

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Summary : You are best friend with Benedict Bridgerton till the day you have to leave to go to France. When you meet again, seven years later, Benedict realises you still have an important place in his heart.

Warnings : angst, sad ending, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see any and if I missed any warnings !

Word Count : 2,9k

French version on Wattpad

French version on Tumblr

Song Inspiration : A Little Bit Yours by JP Saxe

It's 1804 and you stare at your house, you’re lost in your childhood memories. After living for sixteen years in London, you have to move to France as your father has to work in Paris.

Your father makes sure he hasn’t forgotten anything, allowing you to memorise every single stone of your old house, the one you called home. A voice calling your name brings you back to reality. You turn around and see your best friend, Benedict Bridgerton running to you. You meet him halfway, trying to hide your sadness.

“Benedict, what are you doing here ? We bid each other goodbye yesterday.”

“I know, but your whole family was there. I wanted to see you one last time, alone.” The eighteen years old confesses.

“I’ll come back to London.” You assure him.

“But when ?”

“Soon. I hope so. Promise me to always write to me. I do not wish to lose our friendship.”

“I promise you, Y/N.”

You both look into each other’s eyes. They express more words than their voice ever could. You’re about to be separated for the first time. You have always known Benedict and you can’t imagine a life without him, unfortunately you don’t have a choice. Benedict doesn’t want to go back to a life where you’re not by his side. You've been his best friend since the day you were born. You know everything about the other. Suddenly, you fall into Benedict’s arms, needing to keep Benedict in your memory by more than just sight and ear.

“I’m going to miss you.” You murmur.

“I already miss you.”

“Y/N, we have to go.” Your father calls, forcing you to break your embrace.

“I am coming.” You answer before looking at Benedict one last time. “See you soon.”

Benedict doesn’t have the courage to answer you, trying to bite back his sobs. He looks at you leaving him and getting in the carriage. When you pass next to him, he waves at you and you do the same. When your family is not in his sight anymore, he lets a tear roll down his cheek. It’s official. You’re not close to him anymore. He made you a promise. He’ll write to you till the day you come back.

Lady Danbury’s ball opens the social season of 1811. Benedict goes to the event against his will, just like his two brothers Anthony and Colin. They don’t want to spend their night dancing or meeting the mamas who absolutely want to marry their daughter to a Bridgerton's. Benedict has to act as if he wants it. He stays in a corner of the ballroom, trying to make himself look smaller than he really is. Looking across the room, his eyes set on a familiar face. He needs a second to be sure he’s not being mistaken. You lost your baby face, but your beauty is still the same. With a huge smile on his face, he walks to you as you’re standing at the opposite of the room.

“Y/N ?” He asks, catching your attention.

“Mister Bridgerton, it is nice to see you again !” You answer, taking Benedict aback as he’s not used to you being so formal but he tries to hide his shock before talking again.

“I did not know you were back.”

“I arrived in London only two days ago. I haven’t had the time to greet everyone yet.”

“Dear, here is your drink.” A man states with a noticeable french accent, giving you a glass of champagne. Benedict frowns his brows, not knowing who that man is.

“Oh yes, I think some presentations would be greatly appreciated.” You begin, noticing the rising tension. “Viscount BirdWhistle, this is Lord Benedict Bridgerton, my childhood best friend. Lord Bridgerton this is Viscount James Birdwhistle, my… husband.” You say the last word awkwardly.

“Nice to meet you.” Benedict smiles politely.

“Nice to meet you, too. I am delighted to finally discover Y/N’s birth town.”

“Lord Bridgerton, I hope I will have the pleasure of seeing your family again, after so many years.”

“I hope so, too, Viscountess Birdwhistle. I apologise, I see my mom is looking for me.”

“There's no need to apologise, I was going to ask my wife to dance.” The Viscount reassures him, taking your hand. “Have a good time.”

“So do you.”

Benedict walks away, his throat seeming to be tied as he tries to comprehend what’s just happened.

“Of course, she’s married ! She’s three and twenty. They must've been married for three years at least !” Benedict curses himself mentally.

He takes a glass of champagne and drinks it quickly. He takes another glass and sets his eyes on the dancefloor. You and your husband are waltzing, eyes full of love. James murmurs something in your ear and you try to hold back your laugh. Benedict feels his heart being crushed in his chest while he’s watching the scene. You two look like you are very close, indicating that your marriage must be a love one.

Over the years, Benedict understood that his feelings for you have changed. They were becoming stronger and stronger when you were still in Paris. He was in pain at every letter he was sending. He only wanted one thing : to be close to you again except he never got the chance to. As he wasn’t seeing you coming back, Benedict convinced himself that he’d never see your malicious eyes ever again. He thought he had learnt to live with the pain of his non-exploited love for you. But seeing you again was like a punch in his face. Despite the years, he wasn’t able to forget his feelings for you. The young man can’t bear the sight of you in the arms of another man so he lies to his mother to leave the ball earlier.

The next few days, Benedict retires to his quarter, preferring to draw than risking meeting you again. His family hasn’t noticed his change in behaviour yet they think he’s probably having one of those periods where he isolates himself for his art. His last paintings and sketches are full of melancholia, a sadness never drawn before. What could have been a way to free himself from his pain hurts him more.

But painting his heartbreak constantly is nothing compared to the news his mother has announced two days ago. Coming back home from a promenade, she informed with a big smile that she met you with your husband, a real gentleman, she precised before telling the family that she had invited you and your husband for dinner. The Bridgertons children were all happy to finally see you again. Benedict only focused more on his sketch when he heard the news, making his mother frown. She didn't know how big his feelings for you were, but she knew that you were close friends when you were younger. She was sure he’d be happy.

The meal is full of joy. You and the Bridgertons talk about childhood memories, allowing your husband to see another face of you, one that is more childish. You’re relieved to see you haven’t lost your connection with the family. You’re still at ease with them. The atmosphere is warm and everyone participates in the conversation. Except Benedict. He only talks when spoken to. His younger sister Eloise notices his silence so she grows worried about him. She thought he’d be the one always talking with you, but it’s actually Daphne as she questions you on your debuts in the society.

“I promise you Daphne, you will be okay.” You reassure her. “I am sure you will find a husband quickly.”

“Was it the case for you ?”

“I met the Viscount in my third year. He spilled lemonade on my dress !” You tell her, making the family laugh.

“She’s still angry at me for that one.”

“I waited weeks for this dress ! Fortunately his dancing skills made up for his clumsiness. Quickly we did some promenades and visited some museums.”

“So you’ve only been married for a year ?” Lady Bridgerton asks.

“That's correct.”

“Talking about museums, do you still draw ?” Eloise questions. “I remember some sketches you did with Benedict.”

“You draw ?” James asks you, surprised.

“I… I stopped a few years ago.” You admit, embarrassed.

“Why ? I thought you loved it.” Benedict wants to know, being suddenly invested in the conversation.

“I still do, I just don’t have time anymore.”

Noticing you’re more tensed than when the conversation about art started, the Bridgerton's matriarch catches your attention by asking you a question.

“Do you live in your childhood home ?”

“I couldn’t picture myself anywhere else. I have some ideas for the decoration as it is a little bit old. I want the place to feel more alive.”

“Ah, but I am certain that would be the case once you will have your first child.”

“We hope it will be soon.” You smile.

Benedict can’t bear it anymore. He sets his napkin on the table before looking at his mother.

“Will you please excuse me, mother, I have a headache.”

“Of course, my dear. Do you need anything ?”

“No, do not worry, mama.”

Without another word, Benedict stands up and leaves the room. You watch him, concern in your eyes. Even though it’s been years, you're still able to tell when he’s lying. You had already noticed his silence, but his sudden urge to leave the room intrigues you more. If you could, you’d join him right now to know the reason behind his strange behaviour but the presence of your husband stops you from doing so. Despite your worries, you don’t do anything until the end of the meal.

Anthony, Colin and James are in the office of the oldest Bridgerton, they wanted to talk between men, leaving you and the other women in the drawing room. You talk about the next balls as Eloise makes sarcastics comments about them. You don’t show it but a part of you is happy to see Eloise is becoming an educated woman. Quickly, you had the opportunity to listen to the most scandalous thoughts of the youngest Bridgerton but you love the new perspective that Eloise offers you.

“Eloise, you’re always reading. Do you have a book in your room to recommend me ? It has been such a long time since I’ve read a good English book and the French translations are awful.” You inform her, making the other women softly laugh.

“You’re asking the right person. Come with me.”

You both leave the room before walking upstairs. When you arrive in the corridor leading to the bedrooms, Eloise stops herself and turns to you.

“You want to talk to him, am I right ?”

“How did you… ?” You start asking her but she interrupts you.

“I was maybe young but I still remember how close you were ! Go and talk to him. I will wait in my room for you to return to go back to the drawing room.”

“Thank you, Eloise. It is very nice of you !”

You don’t wait for your friend to be in her room to go to Benedict’s. You hesitate for a second before knocking. Benedict opens the door rapidly, a surprised expression on his face.

“Hello Benedict.”

“Oh, it is not ‘Lord Bridgerton’ anymore ?” He asks sarcastically.

“We are not surrounded by the ton.”

“Precisely. How scandalous. Does your husband know you are here ?” Benedict continues, making your eyes roll.

“I just want to talk, please.”

Benedict opens his door a little more, letting you enter. You walk in the middle of the room as he closes the door. You don’t know where to start but you know you’re the one who has to make the first step as Benedict stays silent, looking at you.

“What is the matter ?”

“I had a headache.”

“I know it is not true.”

“Why did you stop drawing ?” Benedict retorts and you stop yourself from showing your annoyance.

“I already told you, I don’t have time anymore.”

“I know it is not true.” He repeats, proud to use your own words against you.

You turn your back to Benedict, walking to his desk where you find his sketchbook.

“May I ?” You ask him and he nods.

You look at some pages, more amazed every time you find a new sketch.

“It is really beautiful, Benedict. You have improved so much in seven years. Your lines are more delicate and you know how to catch emotions.”

“Your drawings would have been the same if you hadn’t stopped.”

“No. You've always had talent. I didn’t.”

“I do not think so.” He contradicts you. He waits for a second before asking the question he had on his mind for a while. “Y/N, do you really love Viscount Birdwhistle ?”

“Yes.” You admit sincerely, looking at him. “I had the chance to make a marriage of love. He’s nice, respectful, he’s always listening to me and he’s funny. He always puts my happiness before everything else. It was his decision to come back here. I told him once how much I missed London and he decided that we should move back to my old house.”

“How come he didn’t know about your drawings then ?” Benedict wonders, hurt by your confession.

“I had never told him. You can not blame him. He is a good man, Benedict.” You assure him.

You look with more attention at a sketch from a landscape when Benedict brings you back to reality.

“I apologise.”

“What for ?”

“For stopping writing to you.”

“I’ve never written to ask you why you stopped. I am as guilty as you are.”

“I made you a promise to always write to you. It’s just…” Benedict starts, looking for his words. “At some point it became too hard. I really thought I would never see you again and the letters were not making up for your absence. On the contrary, the more I was writing, the more I was conscious you were not here.”

“It is the reason why I stopped drawing.” You confess looking in his eyes. “Art was the last link I had with you. When I was drawing, I was thinking of you and it was becoming harder every time I held my charcoal. So I stopped. It is also the reason why I’ve never told James. Telling him was like sharing our link and I wanted to keep it just for me. Every single moment we spent together, I keep them for me, in my secret garden. It is one of the rare things I had never told him. I care a lot about you, Benedict.” You add, getting closer to him. “I missed you.”

“I still miss you.”

You look into each other's eyes, staying at a good distance from each other. You wish you could hold each other like the day you left, but Benedict knows he can’t. If he did, he knows he wouldn’t be able to stop him from making a mistake. He doesn’t want to ruin this moment and even less your relationship with your husband. You seemed honest when you answered earlier. A part of him broke when he heard you talking about your feelings for James but another was relieved to know you found love. If you had to be with someone else, it’s better for you to be with someone you love. Benedict suffers a little more, thinking of you loving him, James Birdwhistle. You are with him. And you’ll always be till death do you apart. There's nothing he can’t do about it. Benedict can’t bear being this close to you without doing anything so he clears his throat before talking again.

“You should go back downstairs. Your husband is probably waiting for you.”

You don’t answer him and walk to the door. Your hand on the knob, Benedict holds you back one last time.

“Y/N, I am happy you found someone you love. You deserve happiness.”

“I hope you will find someone you'll love. You deserve happiness, too, Benedict.”

“See you soon.”

You smile at him one last time. Leaving Benedict behind, he's now a part of your past. Like seven years ago, Benedict lets a tear roll down his cheeks. Even though this time you’re not a thousand miles away, you’re still so far. Despite what he wants, he’d never be able to have the link you used to have. You are with the Viscount Birdwhistle now. It’s official, he needs to learn to live without you. He can’t let himself fall back into your eyes like he just did. He can’t let himself want you close to him like a few seconds ago. He can’t let himself hope like he was still doing. He would have loved if your relationship never ended, but life decided for you two. You don’t see him the same way he does. Even if the Viscount wasn’t here, years had deleted the affection you had for him. He was sure of it. Benedict knows, deep down, that even if he moves on from his feelings for you, you will always be a part of his heart. His love for you will never disappear. He’ll always be a little bit yours.

Masterlist

{This is my side blog so I'll be answering comments under the username @marie-sworld}

#benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x fem reader #benedict bridgerton x fem!reader #bridgerton one shot #bridgerton imagine #Spotify

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voltstone · 9 months

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LYCOS | SCALDING | 2

SCALDING | moon | Pt.2

“You’ve kept her from me long enough.”

there was never a heat. only rut. wednesday still doesn’t know what to do about enid. nor ajax, for the matter. because he isn’t a bane. not like xavier.

[41,001] | [10/08/2023]

alright! for this chapter and the next, it’s just updating when i’m done, then i’ll go on an extended hiatus to actually write the rest and post on a schedule.

and good lord this chapter was…a pain. lol.

anyway. hopefully tumblr is nice to me. don’t think it will but whatever.

hope you enjoy!

(read more for chapter teaser.)

AO3 1.2 First Chapter: AO3 | First Post

“Apologize.”

With every Addams is a chosen instrument for death — the honor therein.

Your dear father is straightforward and blunt, so he takes to rapiers. Uncle Fester is (or was) likewise, though rather than rhythm, his hand kept itself erratic.

Mother’s instrument blossoms in silence. There are her words, then the poison to a drink. Her victims are few, though they are, always, a pointed remark. Grandmama, she is … similar, though she falls back to scripture and incantation as well.

“I— I-I can’t—! Oh my god, I— I can’t breathe—!” “Apologize to him.”

Pugsley has trinkets. Grenades. Rifles. Mines or the occasional tank. It doesn’t matter. If he can tinker with his instrument, that satisfies him plenty.

“He isn’t—! F-Fuck—!” (The jock wept. Naked, and bruised, with his head boiling… He truly was a disappointment.) “H-He’s not h-here—?!” “I’ll play courier. Apologize.”

As for you, your family likens you to antique. Namely blades, though you’ve collected the most heinous array of boards and maces. Curiosity has also guided you to the complex; more than gadgetry, you are drawn to practices, and technology. Old technology. There’s artistry to them. Artistry that your family appreciates, it’s just that you do above them all.

Yet…, a contradiction.

“I can’t— I— I can’t breathe…! Pl— Ple—ase—!” “Fine then.” (You loosened your grip. He slacked for his gulp of air. Then you stamped his head into wet tile.) “Now apologize.” (Blood erupted. It seeped far.) “To my brother. Apologize.”

Rather than antique, and complex, you favor primitive. Your very hands are your instruments.

Just as they had been beneath a fateful moon, where the life drained from his eyes. And beneath a yellow sun as well, where the world blurred, seethed Vampyric, behind cut fringe.

And so too your last hour at Lakeview High, where the locker room’s shower pranced down your back, and you were struck by the sheer ease of this vengeance. All it took for the football team to kneel was to find them unannounced, from an empty locker, after practice.

“I’m— I’M SORRY! I’LL LEAVE HIM ALONE!” (His head cracked ceramic by the second heel.) “Again. Apologize again.”

There was only a telephone cable in your hands.

They knew to be terrified. You had to give them that.

“I’M SORRY! HOLY FUCK, I— I’M SORRY!”

It’s a shame that stunt had ricocheted you from the police station, to home, then right to Nevermore.

“WEDNESDAY! FUCK! I’M SORRY! WE’LL LEAVE HIM ALONE!”

You wanted to see the captain’s face after the fact. You wanted to envision the colors which bloomed — beyond what Pugsley wrote you weeks into the fall semester. Because with any instrument, there is a piece. And for a sculptor to not witness her artistry…?

“She … isn’t here right now.”

It was cruel.

— — —

AO3 1.2 First Chapter: AO3 | First Post

#volt's library #lycos fic #wednesday 2022 #wednesday netflix #wednesday show #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #fanfiction #wenclair #omegaverse #a/b/o dynamics

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azucanela · 4 years

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OMG I AM OBSESSED WITH YOUR WRITING YOU ARE DEFINITELY ONE OF THE BEST WRITERS ON TUMBLR NO CAP!!! i love ur zuko fics, and i wanted to request some sokka x reader!!! i want u to have complete creative freedom but i love how you write slowburn omg so some enemies to friends to lovers sokka content would be insaneeee! maybe reader is fire nation (zuko’s cousin/iroh’s daughter??) but joins the gaang after crossroads or something?

AFTER | SOKKA X READER

SUMMARY: Sokka didn’t expect the girl who held a knife to his neck to be the same girl he’d fall for. Y/N didn’t really expect to fall either.

WORD COUNT: 10k

WARNINGS: injuries, implications of death, kisses, bloodbending, threats of bodily harm, death threats

A/N: time to give sokka the attention and hype he is OWED, also im SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONGGG but this is quite possibly my favorite Y/N. writing for sokka is hard tho. im not sure how much i like this tbh but its really long omg. also thank you!!!! i feel honored to be considered the best :D you are too kind

When she was younger, Y/N joined Azula’s little troupe of girls. Though she wasn’t some loyal little soldier for her to order around, no, Y/N never feared Azula. Nor did she follow her blindly. No, it had always been a struggle for power between the two. Even when her father was booted from the throne as the rightful heir.

Losing her brother made her wonder if giving up like her father had in Ba Sing Se was the easy way out. Perhaps thats why she promised herself she would never give up. Maybe thats why she challenged Azula to... an unofficial duel when she’d heard her comment. Challenged her and won.

The new Fire Lord’s pride and joy had lost against his niece, a shame.

Y/N hadn’t thought much of it, but it probably would’ve explained why Fire Lord Ozai was rather pleased when Y/N had came to him and explained her intents to go alongside her father and cousin in banishment. She was, no matter how unlikely, another potential heir to the throne. And unlike Zuko, an actual threat. Sending her on a journey to find someone who’d been missing for a century was the best way to get rid of her.

If Y/N was honest, she viewed the banishment as more of a vacation. All her life, she had to deal with banquets, politics, war tactics, all at such a young age. It was tiring, and dull, spending day and night in the palace doing such things. Now, she had the opportunity to travel the world, though her grumpy cousin was rushing them throughout each spot, it was still nice. Zuko certainly didn’t think so, given that they hadn’t found the Avatar yet, not that Y/N believed they ever would but, it is what it is.

A sigh escaped her as she sat, on leg propped up against the other on the deck of the ship, they had arrived in the Southern Water Tribe after seeing an odd light in the distance. Maybe it was cruel, but Y/N sincerely hoped they didn’t find the Avatar. She didn’t want her vacation to end, she didn’t want to return to the politics, and she didn’t want to deal with one of the most powerful people on the planet. Aside from her own desires, Y/N couldn’t help but disapprove of Zuko’s need to please his father, the man who’d hurt him beyond forgiveness.

She sincerely doubted her father approved either. Though their relationship had been strained for some time now. Y/N didn’t hate her father, she doubted that was possible, he was a kind man and a good father. Things between them simply felt... off. She liked to think she’d gotten over it, the initial jealously she felt when she discovered her father intended to join Zuko on his hunt for the Avatar.

When she’d found out from Fire Lord Ozai.

Sometimes she wondered if her father even intended to say goodbye. But she wasn’t a fool, Y/N knew he had recently lost a son, they were both hurting and Zuko needed someone who wasn’t going to hurt him if he did something wrong. Though, Y/N saw him try to save the lives of the soldiers of the so-called great Fire Nation, not do something wrong. Regardless, Zuko needed a father figure, yes. But Y/N needed a father as she grappled with the death of her brother.

Maybe she was just a little bitter about it.

“Are you coming?” Zuko asked, his words coming out harshly.

Raising a brow, Y/N shook her head, “no. Don’t get too violent, though.” She warned, looking at him pointedly, “they’re a small tribe that’s going extinct.”

Zuko rolled his eyes as he exclaimed, “that’s not my fault!”

Sitting up to face him, Y/N smacked him upside the head as she walked past him, “considering the royal family, which you are a part of need I remind you, ordered the genocide of every single Waterbender they had...” She paused, cracking her knuckles before turning to look back at Zuko, “I would say you that everyone here probably blames you for it by assosiation.” Y/N reasoned. She had never liked the history that her ancestors had, much less approved.

Taken aback, Zuko exclaimed, “you’re a part of the royal family too!” Y/N was well aware of the circumstances surrounding his banishment, he’d tried to save lives, but war was the only thing that mattered to the Fire Nation it appeared.

His attempt at defense simply earned him a shrug, “perhaps.” Y/N didn’t consider herself a member of the royal family, and she doubted her father did either. And no matter what Zuko thought, though he was royal by blood, his banishment severed his ties to the throne permanently.

Unless they happened to find the Avatar, though that wasn’t very likely, Y/N decided she would rethinking her life choices should the Avatar be here of all places, as she rested her forearms on the side of the ship and watched Zuko march down his soldiers.

She wasn’t going to tell him that the Southern Water Tribe didn’t have a military, much less benders. As previously mentioned, the genocide destroyed the benders, and the most of the soldiers in the village had headed off to fight in the war against the Fire Nation. Though her brow did raise as she watched him yank an old lady from the small crowd of people, Y/N straightened her back, preparing to get involved.

Of course, a young warrior ended up running at her cousin, war paint and all as he attempted to attack. Key word being attempted. Watching him fall face first into the snow, Y/N realized he wasn’t a warrior, but a boy. The Avatar also happened to be a boy. A very, very young boy. Not a century year old Airbender.

Y/N supposed it was time to start rethinking her life.

Sokka didn’t know what he was supposed to do as he helped Princess Yue onto the Sky Bison. They needed to find Aang’s physical body, quickly, otherwise he wouldn’t be returning to the real world, and they happened to be fresh out of Avatars up until recently so that wasn’t really an option. Not when they needed the balance of the world to be restored immediately.

Sighing, Sokka moved to get onto the Sky Bison, only to be yanked backwards, stumbling before having a knife pressed to his neck. “What the hell!” He exclaimed in shock, garnering the attention of the others that were already on Appa. Katara’s mouth gaping open at the sight of him as Princess Yue cried out in shock.

The knife against his neck is certainly uncomfortable, and he realizes that he probably should’ve stuck around Kyoshi Island long enough to learn how to get out a situation like this. “I’m coming with you. Someone has to make sure Zuko doesn’t do anything else dumb.” Comes a voice from behind him, and Sokka’s brows furrowed in confusion, who was this? And why were they trying to kill him? More importantly, how did they know Prince Zuko, the guy who had been chasing them since Aang had come out of that iceberg. Questions ran rampant through his mind, and he nearly forgot that his life was being threatened.

That was a luxury he couldn’t afford at the moment.

Though he couldn’t see the person behind him, he could see Katara grimace at her demand, anyone associated with Prince Zuko likely had a similar end goal, to capture the Avatar. This wasn’t something they could allow, and Sokka recognized this as Katara asked, “why should we trust you?” Katara’s eyes soon met Sokka’s and he knew that no matter what he said, she would give into the girl’s demands for his safety. Sokka mentally scolded himself for failing to prevent this situation.

The girl behind him scoffed, “unlike my dear cousin,” Sokka couldn’t help the shock that flooded him, cousin? As in Zuko is this girl’s cousin? Or did she mean someone else? He was kidding himself, there was no one else it could be. “I like banishment, it’s like a fun little vacation. I could care less about the Avatar.” The knife draws in closer to Sokka’s neck, nearly drawing blood, likely expressing the fact that she could care less if Katara believed her. Though Sokka doubted she didn’t care about the Avatar, he was one of the most important people in the world.

But Sokka would likely die if she didn’t agree, or at least end up fatally injured. No matter how far Katara had come with her Waterbending, she hadn’t perfected it yet, and healing was only so effective. Sokka sincerely doubted she could beat the speed of this girl and her weapon considering the fact that she’d gotten the jump on them the first time around. Death wasn’t something he wanted, but anyone who knew Zuko couldn’t be trusted, much less someone who shared his blood. If he turned out... like that, Sokka didn’t want to imagine how this stranger ended up.

“Don’t try anything.” Katara warned, eyeing the girl wearily. Though it was an empty threat for the most part, in the air, there was little Katara could do against a foe. Though three, well two if you exclude the princess, against one seemed like favorable odds, this girl seemed talented in combat, even without bending.

She released Sokka, and he turned to see her beaming up at Katara, “happy to be doing business with ya.” Turning to Sokka, she looked him up and down, sizing him up before speaking, “be a gentleman and help me up?” Yeah, she was crazy. The pretty ones are always crazy. That, and she was Zuko’s cousin, it made sense. Though Sokka was fairly sure that she was joking, you could never be too sure.

“Who even are you?!” He exclaimed, exasperated and preparing to whip out his boomerang as he glared at her. He didn’t recognize her, but she’d likely been traveling with Zuko for quite some time now if they were related.

She just shrugged, “you can call me Y/N.” She got onto Appa with ease, Katara on guard a she eyed her, eyes piercing into her soul, Y/N raised a brow upon noticing this, “calm down. I wouldn’t have killed him.”

Katara inhaled deeply, trying to maintain patience as Sokka got into the saddle, “yip, yip.”

Y/N wasn’t really shocked when it turned out Azula was after them. Of course good old Uncle Ozai sent his most valuable asset to bring them back. Though some good at come of it, Zuko cut his ponytail, something Y/N had taken pleasure in bullying him over. Now they were on the run, in the very city that her father had tried to run to the ground all those years ago.

Irony at its finest.

Tugging at the sleeves of her Earth Kingdom garments, Y/N sighed, walking through the streets of the city. She didn’t know where she was if she was honest, and standing in the beautiful plaza, Y/N wondered if maybe, it would be better if she never returned back to that horrid apartment. Her father was starting over, getting them all jobs at a tea shop, even Zuko had tried to move on, going out on a date with a girl.

The Earth Kingdom was an odd place, but here, no one knew who she was. It wouldn’t be difficult to restart, alone. Without the expectations she’d been raised with. Fists balling up, Y/N exhaled slowly, turning a corner. There wasn’t graffiti in this part of the city, she realized, staring at the walls. Though there was an odd poster, squinting at it, she moved closer. It was a poorly drawn image of-

A Sky Bison. The same one she’d ridden on back during the Siege of the North, not that any others existed, the Sky Bison were a dying breed. Which could only mean one thing, the Avatar was in Ba Sing Se.

"Have you seen him?” She heard from behind her. Y/N recognized the voice, it belonged to the boy she’d held at knife point, “the drawing isn’t my best but-”

Turning around she spoke rapidly, “don’t freak out.” This was a problem.

Y/N liked to think she was the least threatening of the Royal Family, aside from her father that is. Though they could both be lethal in their own ways, neither demonstrated the true extents of their power unless it was truly necessary. Maybe that’s why Y/N hoped that the boy, Sokka, she believed his name was, wouldn’t freak out.

Of course, he did. Dropping the posters in his hand, he opened his mouth, likely to scream, only for Y/N to practically tackle him. She slammed his body against the wall, covering his mouth with her hand as she glared at him. Sokka let out a grunt of surprise, immediately beginning to struggle in her hold, “calm down! I don’t have a knife this time around.” Y/N cried out, her voice a hushed whisper. Of course, what she said was a lie, she always had at least three weapons on her. Upon entering the city, she’d knocked that number down to only two weapons, much to her dismay and Iroh’s relief.

She felt him lick her hand, and she quickly removed her hand in disgust, while keeping the other planted on his shoulder, they both exclaimed, “what the hell!”

Sokka’s eyes narrowed at her, “look. I don’t wanna cause a scene, so I’m just gonna go-” He sighed when her hand remained on his shoulder, firmly holding him against the wall as he tried to move away only to be pushed back into the wall. “Or not.”

“Look, you cannot go back to your little group and tell them that I’m here.” Y/N tried to choose her words carefully, if she didn’t need to, she didn’t want to suggest that her father and Zuko were also in the city. “I’m trying to have a permanent vacation, away from the Fire Nation and my crazy family, in Ba Sing Se.” She explained, slowly removing her hand from his shoulder, “think you can respect that?”

He looked at her wearily, during their last interaction, she’d made no attempts to actually injure them. And when she had the Avatar right in front of her, unlike Zuko, she hadn’t tried to kidnap him. Y/N had been honest last time, and chances were, she was being honest now. That didn’t make him feel any better about trusting her though.

“How do I know you won’t follow me and kill me in my sleep?”

Y/N looked at him incredulously, “is that a joke?” She’d considered that too though, the possibility that he’d follow her back to her shared apartment and alert his friends of their location. Y/N refused to be the reason that they lost their new lives in Ba Sing Se, and had already decided to check into an inn for the night.

Raising a brow at her, Sokka gestured for her to give him an answer, and Y/N stared at him momentarily, “well. How do I know you won’t kill me in my sleep?” Y/N retorted.

Sokka rolled his eyes at her, “I’m a good person.” Came his response.

“Debatable.”

Sokka stared at her in disbelief, “I’m trying to save the world here!” He exclaimed, and Y/N wasn’t shocked by his response, her goal had been to fluster him and she had.

Tilting her head at him, Y/N replied, “sure.” Stretching her arms upwards, she waves to him, “don’t tell your friends I was here, and we’re good.” She began to walk further into the alley, towards the other side, “see you around.” If he was here, his friends were probably around the area as well, meaning she had to leave.

His mouth gaped open and he stared at her figure as she stalked off, pausing momentarily before groaning and running after her, ending up at her side. “What do you mean, sure?” Sokka asked, confusion laced in his tone.

Y/N raised a brow at him. “What are you doing?” She wanted to laugh at his reaction, though he was now following her liked a lovesick puppy, which could prove problematic.

Crossing his arms he responded, “making sure you don’t do anything bad.” Sokka eyed her suspiciously, “because I am a good person.” He asserted.

“And I’m a bad person?”

She already knew he was going to say, ‘yes, yes you are.’ After all, she was from the Fire Nation, and Y/N had no doubt she’d done terrible things in her life, especially when she’d fallen into a dark place and taken on... less than favorable coping mechanisms.

And he’s silent for a moment, leaving Y/N to wonder if he suddenly cares about the feelings of the enemy. Only for him to say, “in my experience... good people can do bad things.”

That wasn’t what she expected. Y/N found herself stunned, speechless as she looked to Sokka, though he simply continued to walk alongside her nonchalantly. Quickly collecting herself, she looks away from him and to the nearby food stand, “that didn’t answer my question.” And as Sokka opened his mouth to likely continue his statement, Y/N realized she didn’t want to know the answer as she spoke, “you want food? I want food. Let’s get food.”

Sighing, Sokka followed her, “as long as you don’t poison me.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed at his comment, looking back at him, “do you-” A small laugh escaped her, “do you think I just carry around poison?”

Sokka didn’t know why he swelled with pride when he made her laugh, “in case you run into your enemies, absolutely.” It was probably because she was the enemy, and it took real talent to make someone who hated you laugh.

“How often do you think I run into my enemies and invite them to get food with me?” She asked, picking up a few things from the stand, before heading over to pay.

Frowning, Sokka watches her pay, “I thought we were bonding over,” he paused to take a meat bun from her and shove it into her face dramatically, “meat! Yet, I’m still your enemy.”

Y/N simply shrugged, “this is a one time thing.”

It was not a one time thing.

Sokka found himself ‘coincidentally’ running into Y/N, more and more often. She’d be walking through the streets of the upper ring about once a week, though she had started walking through the streets of the inner ring of Ba Sing Se far more frequently than normal in recent weeks. He’d been meaning to ask her why, maybe she’d also grown accustomed to their meetings and started to come around more. During their meetups they’d talk, about things other than the war, which was a conversation difficult to come by with the others. Though he cared for his friends, talking to Y/N felt different, a good different. She wasn’t overbearing like Katara, or mean like Toph, but she also wasn’t as passive as Aang.

It was odd. Knowing someone who had once held a knife to your neck in a more friendly way. Though, if Sokka was honest, he didn’t trust her, and she likely didn’t trust him either. They’d both taken precautions due to the mistrust between them, not that be blamed her. At the end of the day, they were still on opposing sides, kind of. Y/N had never seemed to care about finding the Avatar, but she was certainly loyal to her family above all else.

She’d demonstrated that in the Northern Water Tribe.

Sokka was the same, if he had saw an inkling of betrayal as a possibility, he wouldn’t hesitate to tell the others. Their safety was his priority at the end of the day, and Y/N didn’t owe him anything, just like he didn’t owe her anything. Maybe that was the beauty of it all. But for now, everything remained peaceful, calming, and simple.

Of course, all good things must come to an end.

Katara had oddly disappeared after Aang arrived with news of his vision. And then, as though things couldn’t get any weirder, Iroh arrived, Y/N’s apparent Father Iroh. Toph seemed to know him well, which certainly came as a shock to Sokka and Aang. “I need your help, Prince Zuko has been captured.” He explained, opening his mouth to continue only for Sokka to interrupt. He couldn’t help it when his brows furrowed in both confusion and frustration, Y/N had never suggested that the rest of her family was here.

“Are you crazy? You guys were trying to capture Aang not to long ago!” Sokka pointed out, throwing his arms outwards, “why not get Y/N to help?” She was certainly capable of raiding the palace and retrieving her cousin.

At this comment, Iroh’s face darkened, “we were separated in the palace. I’m unsure if they managed to capture her or if she escaped.” Oh. So that’s what he was going to say.

Sokka couldn’t help it when his face dropped, looking to Iroh he exclaimed, “well- why didn’t you lead with that!” Pushing past Aang who had been prepared to start giving a speech on why they should assist Iroh, only for his mouth to gape open as Sokka headed for the door.

“Why are you so eager?” Toph asked as they began to follow him out the door.

He faltered, quickly trying to think up a good excuse as he replied, “no reason.”

Toph’s frowned, “I can tell when you’re lying Sokka.” She reminded him.

“We can discuss this later!” He exclaimed, flustered. “Let’s go.”

Y/N had contemplated killing Zuko before.

It had never really been serious, as far as she would’ve gone was maybe injuring him badly enough that she got her point across. But at the end of the day, she protected Zuko to the best of her ability, and tried to keep his mind from being poisoned by the Fire Nation ideals that she’d once lived by unquestionably.

Now she actually wanted him dead. He stood alongside Azula, who had offered Y/N her spot in her little gang hours ago, though she’d rejected the offer much to Azula’s chagrin. But she seemed sure that Y/N would accept some time soon. Perhaps it was because Zuko had betrayed her father and left him to the Dai Li.

He had betrayed her father, the man who had practically raised both of them.

Y/N had a violent past, she wouldn’t deny, and she liked to think that she was past all that. But looking at the situation ahead of them, watching the Waterbender, Sokka’s sister, Katara, cry over the body of the Avatar, she realized that maybe violence was the answer. Just this once.

So, when she hopped in front of them, she had a plan. A violent one.

“Pull yourself together.” She snapped at Katara, who looked up at her, bloodshot eyes and tears streaming down her confused face, “he’s getting out of here alive. But first, I need you to soak them.” Y/N gestured towards the troops coming towards them, Zuko and Azula accompanying them. Katara opened her mouth, and Y/N didn’t care what she was going to say as she ordered, “now!”

Katara’s brows drew together as she released the Avatar’s head onto her lap, raising her hands to use the waterfall behind them to successfully drench the soldiers, who groaned at the discomfort but pausing temporarily before they continued towards them. “What did you think that would accomplish? What a pitiful-” Azula’s taunts were paused when she watched as Y/N drew her hands together, inhaling deeply, and Azula stopped her movement. “That’s not possible.”

Suddenly, lightning was between Y/N’s fingertips, and she extended her hand into the large puddle of water that Katara had created. Y/N had learnt to bend lightning soon after she’d mastered Firebending, from her father, he’d insisted that she only use it when necessary, so she kept her ability to herself. This was necessary, she decided, hand touching the water and sending a shock throughout everyone with it, successfully putting all of the soldiers out of commission.

Unfortunately, Azula recognized the signs of lightning bending, and withdrew alongside Zuko, and the two were now coming to attack from above at a rapid rate. Y/N whipped her head around to see Katara, mouth gaped open at all the fallen soldiers. “You two need to leave, I’ll hold them off.” She began to move to create another strike of lightning

“No.” Called out another voice, and Y/N whipped her head over to see it was her father, Dai Li agents likely nearby as he moved in front of Y/N. “You all need to leave. Take Y/N with you, she will help the Avatar reach his destiny.” Y/N wanted to laugh at that, how could he be so sure? If the boy did die, then this would all be for nothing

Y/N scoffed, “are you crazy?” She moved closer to her father, “unlike Zuko, I’m not leaving you.” She exclaimed, exasperated.

Iroh simply smiled at her as he said, “I’m proud of you, Y/N.”

Sokka knew he seemed dumb. He knew how others perceived him, as the ‘extra’ member of Team Avatar, the useless one, because he lacked bending. At the end of the day, Sokka was the brains of their operations, he was observant, and this helped him develop plans that most people would never even consider.

Not that anyone else knew, but Sokka was the only one that had actually interacted with Y/N prior to what happened in Ba Sing Se. Sure, they’d all met once or twice in the past, but Sokka had a knife to his throat then, so Y/N probably didn’t seem that appealing to the others. And he doubted they understood how odd it was that she was so... apathetic. Normally she’d tease, and joke alongside him but now?

It was odd, and nobody else could notice the shift in her personality but him, and he was concerned. Y/N had lost her father, and been betrayed by her cousin, and she had yet to talk about it, at all. Sokka liked to think that they were close enough to discuss such things, and he’d tried to get some sort of emotion out of her, the key word being tried.

Despite her apathetic personality, the others had warmed up to her for the most part. Apparently Toph had met Y/N in the past, during the time she’d run off and encountered Iroh. So, the two got acquainted fairly fast, Aang was happy to have a Firebender, and insisted that once he was back to full strength, and they’d found a better place for practice, he’d learn Firebending from her. Y/N had agreed but it was clear Aang wasn’t as excited as he was acting, Sokka figured he still associated the time he hurt Katara with Firebending.

Katara had been far less weary of Y/N than Sokka had expected, but given what Katara had told him when she’d first joined, that made sense. Y/N was a powerful Firebender who had betrayed her entire nation to help save Aang’s life, and though Katara didn’t approve of everything she’d done in the past, she tolerated her. Which was better than nothing in Sokka’s book.

They were currently camped out in the woods beside a Fire Nation town, everyone had scattered to prepare for the few nights they’d likely stay in the area. Katara had gone to the town with Toph and Aang, in search of supplies and food, while Sokka and Y/N set up the camp and collected wood to help start a fire. Y/N had insisted that she could maintain the fire without any wood, but Sokka viewed this as an excuse to get her alone and force her to discuss her feelings.

“So...” Sokka mumbled, looking to her as she leaned down to pick up another piece of wood, “lovely weather we’re having.”

Y/N turned to him, raising a brow before nodding, “yeah.” It was clear she wasn’t entirely paying attention the nonsense that was coming out of his mouth as he tried to get her to listen to him.

Sokka grabbed another piece of wood, “how have you been?”

Tilting her head at him in confusion, Y/N brought another piece of wood into her arms, “fine.” Looking up at the dimming sky she frowned, “we should start heading back to that spot we’d found earlier.” Y/N turned to begin walking, and Sokka struggled to match her pace.

His brows furrowed in frustration as he stared at her, the light of the falling sun filtering in between the trees and onto them. Y/N seemed to glow as she maneuvered between the trees, “how have you been sleeping?” Even Sokka sounded confused at the question he asked, but he didn’t know how to broach the topic with Y/N.

She simply paused her movement, turning to him, he stumbled slightly due to the abrupt stop, and met her eyes. “Just ask what you wanna ask, Sokka. Stop dancing around whatever it is.” Y/N sounded tired, looking to him expectantly as she awaited his question. Sokka scolded himself for being so obvious that she’d noticed something was up.

He sighed, “are you okay?” And she opened her mouth to respond but he continued, “actually? You can say that you are okay, and not mean it. Y/N you lost your dad and were betrayed by your cousin, and you-” Sokka grimaced as he met her eyes, “you haven’t been the same since you joined us.”

Y/N is silent for a moment, then her eyes were piercing into his, “how would you know that I haven’t been the same?” She asked, turning away to continue walking back to the chosen campsite, “it’s not like you know me.” His statement had set her off it appeared, but her response had easily done the same for him.

“Are you serious? Not like I know you?” He scoffed, jogging to catch up with her, “I know that you do whatever it takes to protect the people you care about. I know that you really like Earth Kingdom food because most of the food within the Fire Nation is on the spicier side.” Y/N didn’t seem to be listening, and the camp was in sight, but Sokka continued, “I know that you get really cold easily unless you regulate your body temperature with your Firebending. And I know that you can’t pick a favorite color because you are very indecisive.”

Aggressively, Y/N dropped the sticks into the center of the campsite as they arrived, turning to him, “you can stop now.” Her voice was almost taunting as she spoke, sarcastic in a way.

Sokka simply followed suit, placing the firewood in the center and facing her head on, “and most importantly, I know what it’s like to lose someone.” He takes her hand, and Y/N practically growls at the contact, attempting to yank her hand out of his grasp, she ends up pulling him closer towards her. Sokka clumsily topples onto her, knocking the both of them down into the dirt with a grunt. His forearms preventing him from crushing Y/N under his body weight as he held himself up, his eyes meet hers.

Y/N finds herself glaring daggers at him, while Sokka finishes his little speech with, “you don’t have to deal with this alone.”

And in that moment, he looks at her, really looks at her. And she’s really pretty.

Y/N opens her mouth to say something to him, only for someone else to begin speaking, “are we interrupting something?” Toph. Looking up, Sokka sees the others as well, Aang looks rather smug as he wiggles his eyebrows at Sokka, and Katara gives him a pointed look, likely disappointed that he’d fraternizing with the former enemy. He can’t help it when he feels his cheeks warm, and before he can move to get off Y/N, she’s launched him off of her, and he’s flat on his back on the ground. Toph laughs at the actions, bending a seat of earth for herself and the others before falling backwards into it, the girl seems to wish she had popcorn as she watched the moment unfold.

“No.” Y/N mumbles, bringing herself to her feet and dusting herself off. “I’ll be in my tent if you need me.” She retreats into one of the tents they’d set up earlier, and Sokka groans as he lets his head fall backwards into the ground and runs his hands over his face.

When he removes them, Aang is standing over him, along with Toph, while Katara organizes the firewood. “So... did we interrupt something?” Toph asked.

Sokka just sighs, his plan failed. This time at least. Next time, his goal would be to make her laugh, to make her smile. At least she had expressed some emotion, anger was better than nothing.

Anger seemed to turn to annoyance, since Y/N doesn’t leave her tent until nightfall and Sokka can’t help but wonder what was entertaining enough to keep her in there for all that time. When she does exit, she uses her Firebending to light a fire, and uses the firewood they’d collected earlier to ensure it stays alight. The rest of the group was seated around the center of the campsite, and Sokka wonders if she’s going to go back to her tent when she realizes the only open seat is next to him.

She doesn’t return to her tent though and he’s grateful. Though she sits as far as possible from him on the bench that Toph had created, half-heartedly listening to the things that the others are saying. Y/N can feel herself getting cold and can’t help the resent that bubbles up in her chest as she recalls what Sokka send earlier. Exhaling deeply, a puff of blue fire escapes her mouth and Y/N feels nauseous at the small reminder of Azula.

This catches Sokka’s attention, though the others are too enraptured in the story Aang was telling, Sokka turned to her, “cold?” He asked, leaning to the side to grab a blanket from his small pack, he offers it to her.

Y/N knew she wouldn’t be able to regulate her temperature when she fell asleep, but accepting the blanket from Sokka felt like... it felt like accepting him and everything he had said about her. So, when she doesn’t take the blanket from his hands, Sokka sighs, moving to put it back, only for Y/N to snatch the blanket from his hand and wrap it around herself begrudgingly.

This was her way of apologizing, moving closer to Sokka on the small bench she huffed as she pulled the blanket tighter around herself and turned her attention to Aang. She’d been mean, she wouldn’t deny, but what was she supposed to say? Exhaling deeply, Y/N closes her eyes temporarily, allowing drowsiness to consume her for a moment, before looking back to Aang.

It isn’t until Sokka feels a weight fall onto his shoulder midway through his own story that he realizes Y/N has fallen asleep, his mouth gaping open in shock as he pauses his words. He quickly shakes off the shock, cheeks warming as he turns back to the rest of the group, who all regard him curiously. Aang once again wiggles his eyebrows and Sokka ignores the action, continuing his story. Though he’s more weary of his vivid hand movements in fear of awakening Y/N, and noticeably quiets his voice. Sokka finds himself wishing he was Y/N as he listens to Katara’s Water Tribe horror story intently, after all, this is the most peaceful he’s ever seen her.

It doesn’t last long, because she’s soon startled awake, hand going to her side where she keeps her dagger as she and Toph speak simultaneously, “someone’s coming.”

As an old woman emerges from the shadows, Sokka practically holds Y/N down to keep her from lunging at her and attacking as the woman speaks. And of course, Y/N’s distaste for the woman doesn’t stop there, even when she invites them into her home, though Sokka doesn’t blame her. She’s a suspicious woman.

It’s not until he and Aang are attacking each other that Sokka regrets preventing Y/N from attacking the old woman when she had the chance. Katara is struggling to move, and Sokka can only hope that Toph and Y/N return from the cave soon as he yelps upon nearly making contact with Aang, the old woman laughing cynically. Sokka watches as she shifts, hand outstretching behind her, “don’t think I forgot you little Firebender.”

His eyes widen in both shock and fear as Y/N’s body is suddenly thrown onto the ground in front of him. Her body rising almost mechanically, back to a stand, Sokka realizes there’s lightning at her fingertips, the woman manipulating her body to aim for Sokka. “A shame you’ll be the woman to end your friend’s life isn’t it,” She’s making eye contact with Katara who is crying out and begging for her to stop.

Sokka can see the panic in Y/N’s eyes as the her hands aim towards him, “Y/N. It’s okay.” He calls out her, in an attempt at assurance that he doubts does much to soothe her. “It’s okay.” He repeats, squeezing his eyes shut as he prepares for the lightning to hit him. Except it never does, instead, it goes upwards into the sky as Y/N cries out in pain, having moved her body despite the woman blending her blood.

She had overpowered Hama’s bloodbending, something that clearly came as a shock to the old woman as Y/N turned around sluggishly, staring at the shocked old woman as blue fire left her mouth once more, chest heaving. Sokka could feel the weight on his bones slowly disappear, leaving behind an ache, the woman likely intended to focus her abilities onto Y/N, who was struggling to walk towards her.

“Scared?” Y/N asked, looking up at the woman, “you should be.”

The next time that Team Avatar feared Y/N. She was face to face with Zuko.

He’d approached them as they sat in the Air Temple. And Y/N had practically jumped out of her seat, preparing for a fight as lightning seemed to dance at her fingertips. Though Sokka knew better than to allow her to attack her cousin, and grabbed her arm. “Can you guys handle this?” He asks the others, maintaining eye contact with Y/N. The others looked to them understanding what would likely occur if Y/N was allowed to be involved.

Zuko wouldn’t walk away from that fight.

“We got this Sokka.” Katara assured, pure hate in her eyes as she stared Zuko down, and Sokka couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he should remove both of them from the situation.

Sokka’s hand found Y/N’s, and it was almost burning hot, a sparks seeming to fly between them, he pulls at her hand. Y/N hesitantly allows him to drag her away, though she turns back momentarily to meet Zuko’s eyes. “I’ll kill you later, cousin.” She promises, and her voice is scarily calm. “For my father.” The condescending tone in her voice and the wince Zuko has in response is enough for Sokka to know that her intent was to hurt him emotionally if she couldn’t do it physically, and it was clear she had been successful.

Inhaling deeply, Y/N closes her eyes temporarily as Sokka brings her into one of many abandoned rooms in the temple, sitting her down onto a bed before kneeling down in front of her. “Are you good?” He asks.

“That’s a stupid question.” Comes her response.

Sokka tilts his head at her, giving her a smile, “well I’m a stupid guy.”

He’s rubbing gentle circles in her hand as she shakes her head, a small laugh escaping her, “no you’re not.” Her voice cracks and she cringes at the sound so she clears her throat, staring at the wall beside her. Sokka can’t help the way his heart swells at this comment, because for once he doesn’t feel like the comic relief, he doesn’t feel like the side character. Though he appreciates the rest of Team Avatar and loves them all dearly, at times, they didn’t take him seriously.

Y/N makes him feel important. Though he doesn’t say this as he looks at her, clearly shaken by Zuko’s sudden appearance, she speaks once more, “are you sure I can’t kill him?”

This time Sokka laughs, shaking his head, “I’m sure Katara would love to help you with that, but I doubt Aang would approve.”

Y/N nods slowly, letting out a shaky breath as a tear escaped her, though she quickly wiped it away and looks to the ground. “You wanna sit with me?” She asks, patting the spot on the bed beside her.

“Sure.” He replies softly, moving to sit on the bed with her. One he’s situated, Y/N leans her head onto his shoulder, and Sokka finds his hand wrapping around her waist. And they sit like this for several moments.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N removes her head from his shoulder and looks to him, “thank you.”

Sokka raises a brow, “for what?”

“Being here.” She replies, bringing her hand to move a hair from his face, Sokka watches her actions intently and in awe. “With me.” Her hand remains on his face for longer than necessary, and when she moves to let it fall back into her lap, Sokka’s hand cups hers.

They’re both silent when Sokka’s hand releases hers, and his other hand leaves her waist, both coming to her face. The look in his eyes tells her enough, and she nods to him.

The kiss felt like the first breath of fresh air in a while. Maybe it’s because it had been long overdue, but as Y/N brought her hands to his arms to pull him closer, she felt her head empty of all thoughts.

He pulls away momentarily, their foreheads resting against each others, he can see her eyes are shut, lashes pressed against her cheeks. “I hope,” Sokka pauses, and her eyes flutter open to look at him, he can feel his cheek warm as he continues, “I hope I can always be here, with you.” It’s a confession in its own way, and Sokka understands the weight of his words as he watches her reaction.

She opens her mouth, likely to reply, be closes it quickly, and Sokka can’t help the panic that floods him. Though this is quickly replaced by the feeling of her lips on his as her hand collides with his chest and pushes him down on the bed, earning a grunt from him.

“Guys, Zuko is gone-” Y/N throws herself onto the floor as she rolls off Sokka, and he sits up immediately. “Am I interrupting something now?” Aang asked, giving Sokka a look.

Y/N clears her throat, “no.” Sokka couldn’t help it when his brows drew together at this comment, bringing a hand to his temple as he sighed, and Y/N stood, dusting off her thighs as she mumbled, “see you guys later.”

She started avoiding him after that.

When Zuko joined the group, she’s also made a point to avoid him no matter how hard he tried to apologize to her. And of course, when Sokka first showed him to his room they had a... chat. To put it simply, Sokka had threatened him.

Just a little.

“So yeah, here it is, your room.” Gesturing to the room, Sokka gave Zuko a tight lipped smile, watching him wearily.

Zuko’s back was to him as he placed his stuff down, “thank you.” He said, expecting that to be the end of it, upon hearing the door close he assumed Sokka had left.

When he turned around, Sokka was still very much there. “Let’s have a chat, Prince Zuko.” It didn’t go unnoticed by Sokka how the boy grimaced at the use of his title, though that didn’t stop him from moving forward and placing a hand on Zuko’s shoulder a little too tightly. “Y/N does not want to speak with you.”

“I know,” Came his reply. “Thank you for keeping her from... killing me. The other day. I intend to apologize-”

A small laugh escaped Sokka, “next time. I won’t stop her.” This was for multiple reasons, one of which being that Y/N was avoiding him, and the other being that he wished to respect her and her feeling about Zuko. “And you need to respect her wishes. One of those wishes being, avoiding you. Until she approaches you, leave her be.”

Zuko’s brows furrowed at this comment, “she’s my cousin. You can’t expect-”

“Leave. Her. Be.”

Zuko became silent, nodding slowly as he looked to Sokka curiously.

And now, to avoid some of his problems and solve some of them, Sokka ended up running away in a hot air balloon with the person he related to the most at the moment, and the person he threatened rather recently. Zuko. Both of them were being avoided by someone important in their lives, and they both had slightly crazy younger sisters. Though their conversations were certainly... odd.

“My first girlfriend turned into the moon.”

Zuko looked at him for a moment before saying, “that’s rough, buddy.” There was silence after this, a temporary lapse in conversation that Zuko seemed determined to fill. “So...” Zuko mumbled. “You and my cousin huh.”

It wasn’t a question, Sokka realized this, but he disregarded it as he responded, “what about us?” Playing dumb would hopefully get him to drop the subject.

Zuko raised his brows at Sokka, “us?”

Scolding himself, Sokka realized he’d unintentionally dug a deeper hole for himself when he said this as he tried to avoid Zuko’s gaze. “Not really.” Sokka replied, “she’s avoiding me too.”

Nodding, Zuko gave him a tight lipped smile, “what did you do?”

“I wish I knew.” Sokka could only make assumptions about why Y/N had begun to avoid him, but at the end of the day was confused over it.

He really needed to talk to her.

As the day of Sozin’s Comet drew closer, Sokka had started trying to talk to Y/N more and more, she’d keep basic conversation but whenever he tried to address... the kiss, Y/N would shut down the conversation. And now, it was the day of Sozin’s Comet, and they established that Zuko and Katara would take on Azula, Aang would take on Ozai, and the rest of them would go after the army that was heading for the Earth Kingdom.

It seemed that Sokka intended to try to speak with her once more as he approached her while she strapped a dagger to her thigh. “We need to talk.” He said, plopping down onto a rock beside her.

“About battle strategy?” She asked, looking to him, “I had some ideas.”

Play dumb, play dumb, play dumb.

Sokka’s brows furrowed as he shook his head, “about the kiss, Y/N.” Y/N tried to hide her shock at his forwardness, he’d never been this blunt before, during his previous attempts to discuss this with her. Turning to him, she prepared to speak but he silenced her, “you’re going to listen this time.” Grimacing, he looked away, towards the horizon. “I don’t know what’s going to happen today. And if something goes wrong, I need you to know-”

“Nothing is going wrong.” Y/N stated firmly. “Nothing. So, we can have this conversation after.”

Sokka sat up from his place on the rock, moving in front of her, “there’s no way to guarantee that Y/N.”

Squeezing her eyes shot, Y/N took a deep breath, “I’ll make sure nothing happens to you guys.” She promised, “and I swear we can talk about this after.” She grabs onto his hands, holding them in hers as she looks away. Y/N knew why she was avoiding it. He was right, it was totally possible for one of them to die, and a relationship in the midst of a war was the worst possible idea. After would be better, or at least that’s what she’d told herself.

The pleading look in his eyes almost burns through her resolve as he asks, “will we?” It almost hurts that he doesn’t believe her, but Y/N can’t blame him.

“We need to go.” Her voice was almost a whisper as she releases his hands. Even if she wanted to continue discussing the subject, they needed to begin the battle soon.

Sokka frowned though, “if you don’t want this, just tell me and I’ll-” He sighed, bringing a hand to his temple. “I’ll stop bothering you.”

Y/n began to shake her head, “you are never a bother to me I just-” Sighing, she looked into his eyes, “I want this. I do, I’m just scared, and we’re in the middle of a war Sokka!” She exclaimed, the words spilling out of her mouth before she can stop them.

“You think I don’t know that?” Sokka cried out, exasperated. “Y/N I’m so scared that something is going to go wrong, and I’ll never get to tell you that I-”

“Don’t say it.” She interrupts, fear in her veins as she watches him.

So, he didn’t.

If she didn’t feel like she had something to come back to, maybe that would make it easier. Sacrifices would have to be made to reach victory, and Y/N wouldn’t hesitate to be the one to make them if it meant the others survived. They deserved to see the new world, the world of peace, prosperity, and freedom, the one that came after all this.

Y/N could feel the power flooding her as the comet drew closer, pure and raw power. Though this accompanied by her skill would likely help her in the upcoming battle, dozens of Firebenders with half her skill and the power of the comet was something she was definitely worried about. Overpowering them all was unlikely, and in the best case scenario, Y/N could slow them down. But she wasn’t a fool. In war, there were always casualties, and she was prepared to become one of many.

Then there were the thoughts in the back of her mind. Though nobody had discussed it, the throne could potentially go to her after all this, and that wasn’t really something Y/n was looking forward to debating. Perhaps it was selfish, but Y/N didn’t really care. Was it wrong of her to dream of escaping the shackles that bound her to the Fire Nation since birth, to leave behind the politics and the lies and the pain of it all?

Maybe.

Sokka knew Y/N had a lot going on in her mind right now. And he knew she was scared of what was to come, and no matter how much it hurt him, he respected her wishes to wait until this battle was over to discuss whatever it was between them. He knew where he stood. But now that Suki had left them, he found himself beginning to regret it. On the top of the Air Balloon, Toph was practically blind, and Sokka could do little in terms of long distance, aside from his boomerang. Which left Y/N to do her best to defend them from the Firebenders that had begun to swarm them.

“Go!” She cried out, knocking one of the Firebenders off the balloon. “Take out the rest of the fleet.” Y/N dodged the oncoming flames, intercepting them with her own to prevent the others from getting burned.

But Sokka wasn’t going to let anyone die today. “You still owe me a conversation,” came his response, looking down at the bridges on the Air Balloon. “Jump!” Sokka cried out as another ball of fire rushed towards them, he took Toph by the hand and hoped that Y/N followed.

Thankfully, she did, he took notice of her as he fell towards the bridges extending from the giant hot air balloon. They were all screaming as they fell, and Y/N grunted in pain as she hit Sokka, tumbling over him and off the edge, yelping as her hands grasped the bridge, with little leverage. Toph similarly went over the side, her screams filling Sokka ears as Y/N released one of her hands from the bridge and caught Toph’s wrist.

Panic flooded Sokka as he scrambled to the edge of the bridge, Y/N’s hand slipping, “Sokka! Hurry up-” Another scream rips out of her as she loses her grip on the edge.

Nearly falling as he grabbed her hand, his chest heaved. “It’s gonna be okay.” He promised, looking into Y/N’s panicked eyes. “It’s gonna be fine Toph!” He cried out to her.

“Yeah, right!” She called out into the wind, the fear evident in her voice despite the sarcastic nature of the comment. “Y/N I don’t wanna die.”

Y/N almost can’t hear her, too focused on maintaining her grip on both Sokka and Toph’s hands. She exhales slowly, eyes falling on the soldiers that are beginning to make their way down to them as she replied, “you’re gonna be fine, I promise. I’m gonna get you to Sokka, okay?”

Sokka was internally panicking, he wouldn’t be able to fight back against the incoming soldiers if both his hands were occupied, but his grip was faltering and he couldn’t pull them both up. Grimacing as he looked down at the two, he nodded in agreement to Y/N signaling that he was ready. It made sense in his mind, she would be able to use her free hand to Firebend, which was far more useful than anything he could provide at the moment.

Inhaling deeply, Y/N looks to Toph, “Toph, I need you to climb up my body, and grab Sokka’s free hand, okay?”

Toph’s death grip on her hand seems to grow stronger, tears brimming her eyes, “I- I don’t think I can.”

Y/N shakes her head at these words, “yes, yes you can. Bring your legs up to grab my lower body, and then make your way up, okay? Like a tree.”

Toph shook her head rapidly, “I’ve never climbed a tree!”

Sokka couldn’t help but grow impatient as he exclaimed, “there are soldiers coming, Toph please!” His hand was growing sweaty as he used his free hand to throw his sword at one of the oncoming soldiers, effectively knocking him down.

Y/N felt her arm swing slightly, and watched as Toph blindly extended her legs, finally managing to wrap them around her legs. She released Y/N’s hand and wrapped both arms around her lower body, slowly inching upwards until her legs were around Y/N’s waist and her arms were on her shoulders. “Good job, now reach up, as far as you can, and Sokka’s gonna grab your hand.” Y/n instructed using her free hand to pat the hand that Toph had wrapped around her.

Y/N could feel the young girl’s tears fall onto her shirt as she extended her hand upwards, Sokka’s freehand moving as far down as possible. The strain on Y/N’s body slowly becoming too much as tears leaked out of her eyes.

Maybe it would be better to just... let go.

She quickly shook off those thoughts, Toph, Toph, Toph, she couldn’t do anything brash until Toph was safe. Y/N watched as Sokka’s hand narrowly missed Toph’s. “Sokka, please.” Y/N whispered, looking to him with pleading eyes.

Maybe it was the desperation he heard in her voice that moment, or maybe it was pure luck, put his fingers grazed Toph’s and he latched on, extending his arm as far as possible and gripping her hand. “Now let go of me, and Sokka’s gonna pull you up, okay?” Y/N explained, looking to Sokka, his eyes meeting hers. Y/N quickly realized he couldn’t lift either of them up. Just like her, this was straining his muscles, and Sokka was struggling to keep both of them up.

“Sokka.” She said, demanding his attention, his eyes met hers, filled with fear as Toph relieved Y/N’s body of her weight and evened out the distribution on Sokka’s body. “You can’t fight back with both your hands taken.” More tears were streaming down her face as she spoke, “a-and... you can’t pull us both up.” Sokka was crying too now, shaking his head rapidly as Y/N simply pointed out the facts.

Toph’s grip on his hand tightened, “we’re all going to die.” There was resignation in her voice, and it hurt Y/N to hear it.

“We’ll figure it out. We are all going to be okay.” He stated firmly, a shaky breath leaving him as he made an attempt to pull them both upwards, a failed attempt.

Squeezing her eyes shut momentarily, Y/N allowed herself to imagine it, a life with Sokka and the rest of her friends. A life where they were all happy. Where everyone made it out of this war alive, and they helped bring balance to the world.

To give them that world, they had to end this war. And what was war without death?

Opening her eyes, she looked to Sokka, and he was panicked, noticing that far more soldiers had surrounded them and were preparing to mercilessly throw them off the balloon. “Sokka.” She repeated, and he looked to her with a tear streaked face.

“I love you.”

Everything seemed to slow as she spoke this words, and Y/N didn’t see the horror on his face for long as the grip of his hand faltered when she released it, he was screaming, crying, begging for her to stop. Toph clearly didn’t understand what was going on as she began to call out Y/N’s name in a panic.

And then she was falling.

It appeared there would be no after.

It felt peaceful, she decided. Falling. The stress on her body had dissipated and she caught one final glimpse of Sokka’s mortified face before going through the clouds. The comet was visible from where she was, the horizon, it was a beautiful way to die. But staring at the comet she realized she wanted to know what would come after, she realized that Toph was practically helpless and all Sokka had was a boomerang against dozens of Firebenders.

They would die. So, what was the point of her sacrifice? What was the point of her dying?

No, she wouldn’t be dying today.

Inhaling deeply, Y/N felt the power course through her veins, and she reminded herself that she was Y/N L/N, a force to be reckoned with. Nobody would forget that as fire tore through the soles of her shoes, and extended from her hands, propelling her upwards.

She was the daughter of the famed Dragon of the West. And she would take on his mantle, she decided, as she flew upwards and through the clouds.

She could see Sokka had managed to bring Toph upwards and onto the platform alongside him, and they were surrounded by Firebenders. It was clear that they’d seen her when their mouthes gaped open, and a few of the soldiers began to retreat, much to the chagrin of their commanding officer. Y/N found herself ceasing her Firebending and falling towards the platform, she landed in a roll and rose on one knee before opening her mouth and allowing fire to pour outwards.

The Firebenders fell off the bridges beside them one by one, and those who didn’t retreated back inside along with the others at the sight of the Air Balloon that Suki had evidently comandeered.

Closing her mouth, Y/N’s chest heaved, and she felt Toph tackle her from behind, “you’re alive!” She exclaimed, punching Y/N’s arm roughly, “idiot.” She dug her head into Y/N’s shirt.

“Yeah, I am an idiot.” Y/N replied breathlessly, holding the girl tightly.

When Toph finally released her, she gave her a smug look, “I’ll give you and him a minute.” Though this was partially an excuse to head back inside and into the safety of the balloon, maybe even attack some of the remaining Firebenders, it was also because Toph could read the room.

And there stood Sokka, mouth gaping open, tears streaming down his smiling face as he looked at her, before lunging towards her similar to how Toph had. Except his hands came to her cheeks as he brought their lips together, effectively knocking the two onto the ground of the platform, be pulled apart from her with a smile on his face, “I love you too.”

Yeah, after was looking pretty good right about now.

A/N: i hope you guys liked this SUPER LONG THING WOW, that was an accident. i was super close to like breaking everyones hearts and killing Y/N but then i felt bad so be grateful i was nice ksaljdlahfkj

anyways take care of yourselves!

taglists:

atla: @bubblebars @jada-cleo @art-flirt @the-deli-meat

#sokka x reader #sokka x you #sokka x y/n #sokka atla #atla sokka #atla sokka x reader #sokka atla x reader #atla sokka x you #atla #avatar the last airbender #lok #legend of korra #sokka is a bottom change my mind #im sorry ignore this #i hope no one reads tags #anyways have a nice day #drink water

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Text

A Selection of Letters Related to Tamett Lockridge, 1903

I do not have a story for Tamett’s birthday. Not exactly. I had intended to write Tamett and Josiah’s first meeting, but there were a lot of POV and pacing and general having-a-point-ness issues with that one that will require far more time to fix. Instead, this is another set of annotated letters, this time with 100% less plot. Nothing happens. It just sort of ends. It’s more character-related nonsense than anything else (which is the only reason I could finish it).

Tumblr doesn’t have the best option for formatting footnotes, sorry; if you are comfortable with my emailing you a Word document, which will be easier to read, please message me.

This is set when Tamett is seven (nearly eight) and has just been hired as Josiah’s companion.

I. Tamett Lockridge to his family

23 January 1903

Dear Papa, Mama, Emenor, Lovisa, and Cille,[1]

how are you? I am well. I am at the palace now. It is as big as ten of our house.[2] It has to be big because lots and lots of people live here.[3] I don’t have to see most of them, and I like that.

I have my own room.[4] It has a long window with bars[5] and a box thing on the wall that rings when they want me.[6] It doesn’t anymore because I opened it up and took out the bell. I can use it on my bicycle.[7]

Uncle Tamett says hello. He lives here now but I don’t know where.[8] The food is good[9] and I do lots of lessons.[10] I haven’t seen the King again.[11] Everyone wears black but I don’t have to, so ha.[12]

Your loving son

Tamett

PS: His Royal Highness is a beast and I don’t want to stay here anymore.[13]

II. Elina Lockridge to her son Tamett

30 January 1903

My dear Tamett,

I hope you are doing well and being good for Lord Protzmann. Your uncle Tamett says he is the one looking after you. [14] Is there anyone else taking care of you? His Royal Highness’s governess, perhaps?[15]

The palace sounds very grand indeed, and we’re proud of you for getting the chance to live there. Ask your uncle the next time you see him to take a photograph of you in your new room. We would love to see it.[16] I hope you’re remembering to make your bed, the way I showed you, and tidy up at the end of the day. We don’t want the palace staff to think that we live like pigs here in Norriber![17] I know you will do your best to represent us well. Yes, the bars on the window are not like home, but they’re there to keep you safe.[18] However, I am displeased that you took apart something that doesn’t belong to you. The annunciator (that’s what that box is called) may be in your room, but it is the property of the palace, and to take anything out of it is stealing. Do not use that bell on your bicycle. You need to put it back immediately and tell Lord Protzmann what you did so he can have the annunciator properly repaired.[19] Without the bell, His Royal Highness can’t let you know when he needs you, and that is your responsibility, to be there when he calls.[20] It will make him very sad if his companion doesn’t want to keep him company.

He is probably already very sad.[21] We talked before you left about how the Queen went to heaven last month, so everyone is in mourning right now. The Queen was his mama, and he must miss her a great deal. Wouldn’t you be sad too? I need you to remember how he must feel and be thoughtful.[22] He might not be ready yet to play anything too noisy with you, but he will in time. Just be patient. I know you can. However, we do not show patience by calling someone “a beast.” I’m sure His Royal Highness is a perfectly nice little boy.[23]

Your uncle Tamett says he’s been busy, but he’ll try to come and see you at least once a week.[24] Please give him our love. We miss you so much, but we know that you’re where you ought to be and we hope to see you again soon. Don’t forget to brush your teeth and comb your hair. I love you. Your papa and sisters send their love too.

Your loving

Mama

III. Emenor Lockridge to her brother Tamett

30 January 1903

Dear Tam,

Come back home right now because I miss you so much and it’s not the same without you[25] and your chair at the table without you in it makes me wants to cry every time I look at it and Lovisa and I tried to go sledding yesterday but we fell into the snow because you weren’t there to steer it right[26] and now I won’t sled at all without you and Lovi is cross because she wants to anyway but I said no and went upstairs to practice[27] and then my violin sounded sad too because it misses you almost as much as I do so I made up a piece called I Miss Tamett And The Prince Can’t Have Him[28] and I am so sooo SOOOOOOOO cross with the Prince because he’s beastly to you and I want to go there and tell him he’s horrid and needs to be nice to you and if he won’t I’ll slap him.[29] We had sponge cake at dinner. It was nice. I miss you, I miss you, I miss you a million times, so lots of love and hugs from

Your sister

Emenor Klariesa Lockridge

XXXXXXXXXX

IV. Tamett to Emenor

3 February 1903

Dear Em,

How are you? I am well. I wish you were here too. Lessons are boring and the tutors say I’m bad at them.[30] They gave me a violin.[31] It sounds like a chicken squawking. His Royal Highness doesn’t like it. He plays too but he’s not as good as you are. I told him that and he said that’s a lie and he plays much better than any girl. Then I went back to my room.

I found a bug. It looks like a cricket but I don’t know. I put it in my desk drawer for later.[32] Do you want one?[33] I think there are more.

Your brother

Tamett

V. Lord Protzmann to Tamett’s parents

4 February 1903

Dear Mr and Mrs Lockridge,

Here in the King’s household, we do not take correspondence lightly. We carefully monitor incoming letters to ensure that they pose no danger and cause no distress to the royal family, particularly during this period of mourning.[34] This caution extends not only to the royal family but to those close to them, in positions in which the slightest unseemly mindset can have detrimental effects on the exalted personages whom they serve. As companion to His Royal Highness the Crown Prince Josiah, your son Tamett is among those whose correspondence we examine, and a few recent letters have given us cause for concern.

A letter of yours of the 23rd of January contains a passage in which you heavily imply that your son has referred to His Royal Highness by the childish but opprobrious epithet of “beast.” You rightly reprimanded him for this, but it would seem that your son’s original letter containing the offensive word escaped our notice.[35] Otherwise it would never have been allowed to reach you.

I apologize for this oversight and commend you for your response, but a letter from your daughter Emenor of the 30th of January has caused us of the royal household especial alarm and displeasure. In this letter to your son, she explicitly expresses a wish to commit violence against His Royal Highness. I shall charitably assume that this letter escaped your notice as your son’s did ours, for surely you would not have permitted her to send such a letter had you known what atrocities it contained.[36]

I advise you in future to take the utmost care in monitoring your family’s correspondence with Tamett, as we shall with his to you. Since this is the first offense, it will not be reported to the King, but repeated failure to resolve this problem will require intervention from my superiors. We appreciate your son’s presence in the royal household, and it would certainly be a shame if he had to leave us abruptly.[37]

The royal household extends its best wishes for your health and happiness. Dominion for Lienne![38]

Cordially yours

Lord Protzmann

Steward of the Household of His Majesty’s Children

VI. Tamett to his family

5 February 1903

Dear Papa, Mama, Emenor, Lovisa, and Cille,

I am sorry I wrote bad things in my last letter. I did not mean them. I won’t do it again. I like it here at the palace and everyone is nice. Lord Protzmann says I am very grateful.

Someone said we’re going to learn how to ride soon.[39] I will like that. I have six crickets now in my desk drawer.[40] It was sunny yesterday and we went outdoors. I saw a deer in the park and a dead bird. It was fun. The royal family has a baby. It’s a boy and his name is Miki.[41] He tried to pull my finger off. When are we getting our baby?[42] How are you? I am well. I’m sorry. I forgot to say it at the beginning.

Your loving son

Tamett

VII. Edvin Lockridge to his son Tamett

7 February 1903

Dear Tamett,

We received a letter from Lord Protzmann about your recent letter, and I know he must have already spoken to you, but I wanted to further remind you that we will not put up with any bad behavior from you. You are the representative of Norriber to His Royal Highness (as I hope to represent our region someday), [43] and everything you do reflects on us. He must not think that Norriber is rebellious and unkind but cooperative and pleasant.[44] Even if you never criticize him to his face, the thoughts are still there, and they will come out in how you behave, without your meaning them to.

Please, son, make a friend of His Royal Highness. Perhaps you got off on the wrong foot, but it’s not too late. Find something that you have in common. Do something amusing together. Commiserate with him in his grief.[45] There are dozens of ways you can appeal to him. Remember, the royal household has engaged you as his companion, meaning that he wants you to be there. He is looking for a friend, whatever your first impressions may have been. Don’t take that away from him. It’s the best thing for him and for all of us. We’re counting on you, and so is he.

Note the new stamp on the envelope![46] I thought you would like it. Take care of yourself.

Your affectionate

Father

VIII. Emenor to Tamett

8 February 1903

Dear Tam,

[Extensive illegible crossed-out passage.][47]

I mean I wish I were there so I could hear your chicken violin and laugh and laugh. I’m learning “To Engella”[48] now. What are you playing? How long has His Royal Highness been playing?[49] Tell him I started violin when I was six.

[Extensive illegible crossed-out passage.][50]

Mama says that I might be a companion too. Except I won’t go to the palace, just to Aunt Klariesa.[51] I don’t want to go. She says my practicing gives her a headache and little girls shouldn’t whistle. But Papa says she will pay us if I go. I want to buy new music with my pocket money when I get it,[52] and I will whistle it whenever I see Aunt Klariesa. Why don’t nice people want companions?

I hope they let you come home for your birthday. If I have to miss you any more I will fall to pieces. Lots of love and hugs from

Your favorite sister

Emenor not-Klariesa Lockridge

IX. Crown Prince Josiah of Lienne to his father King Odren VII

18 February 1903

Dear Papa,

I hope you are well. I hope you will come to breakfast soon. It has been six days, seven hours, and forty-one minutes since last time.[53] But it will be even longer when you read this.

I do not want a companion.[54] He is not useful. My tutors say his schoolwork is shameful. I do not think he knows anything at all. He is not helping me because he distracts me from lessons with his ignorance.[55] He is not my friend, and I do not want him here. I do not need him. I will be very unhappy if you do not send him away. And I am already very unhappy. You know why.[56]

Please come to see me again. We can discuss this matter of business more.

Your obedient son

Josiah

X. Oswin Fertig, secretary to Odren VII, to Josiah

19 February 1903

To His Royal Highness the Crown Prince Josiah

His Majesty’s business is of such great magnitude that he cannot possibly spare time for every trifling letter that crosses his desk.[57] If Your Royal Highness has a concern about matters related to the royal household, you may address this concern to Lord Protzmann. Your Royal Highness is well aware of the protocol.[58] Furthermore, although in the past your youth excused the use of familiar endearments when addressing His Majesty, Your Royal Highness will remember that you are no longer in the nursery and are now of an age to refer to His Majesty by his proper familial title.[59] Any improperly addressed correspondence in future will not reach His Majesty. I remain

Yours respectfully

Oswin Fertig[60]

Secretary to His Majesty King Odren VII

XI. Princess Ayra of Lienne to Edvin and Elina

2 March 1903

Dear Mr and Mrs Lockridge,

It has come to my attention that you are concerned about the well-being of your son Tamett, who has joined our household as companion to my brother the Crown Prince.[61] Although Lord Protzmann has no doubt been keeping you informed about his doings, I believed it proper to address you personally, as my brother’s mother would have, were she here.[62] (May she rest in peace.)[63]

Your son has been in the care of the same nurse-governess who attends my brother, Karnella Arndt, a respectable woman who has been with the royal family since my own birth.[64] I can personally vouch for her character and her attentiveness. She has been ensuring that he is washed, dressed, fed, and supervised. Tamett takes his meals with my brother and sister and sometimes me, and his leisure time is primarily spent in our company.[65] His conduct is satisfactory. He has helped me wind wool, listened while I read to the children, and tidied playthings at the end of each day.[66] My sister Ateva in particular has gone out of her way to make him feel included;[67] she has undertaken some small mending tasks on his behalf and appears to enjoy amusing him as much as she is able. Tamett appears to be in good health and has made no objection to living among us of which I am aware.[68] We will continue to ensure that he writes to you at least once a week. If the King my father and Lord Protzmann approve and arrangements are made well in advance, you both are welcome to call on him.[69] Although I will likely be otherwise occupied, my sister Ateva will be happy to receive you.[70]

Our family is grateful to you for giving us your son in the best interests of Lienne. My brother has benefited from his companion’s presence, and I give you my word that he will regard Tamett with increasing esteem as the acquaintance continues.[71]

If you have any further concerns regarding Tamett, please address them to Lord Protzmann or Karnella Arndt, who can best address such matters.[72] I extend you both my best wishes for your continued health and well-being and remain

Yours cordially,

Ayra, Princess of Lienne

XII. Tamett to Emenor

5 March 1903

Dear Em,

How are you? I am well. It isn’t so bad here now. Professor Ebner only scolded me once today. His Royal Highness let me play with his trains. He says he doesn’t want them anymore now.[73] Ateva let me hold Miki again. I can make him laugh.[74] His Royal Highness doesn’t laugh. When he hears me he says to shut up. So I do. He likes that. I think we might be friends now.[75] I miss you. I hope I can come home soon.[76] I will ask the caterpillar man.[77]

With love from

Your brother

Tamett

[Drawing that appears to depict a large insect waving one leg.]

[1] Papa, Mama, Emenor, Lovisa, and Cille: Zella Lockridge had not been born yet and would join the family later that year.

[2] It is as big as ten of our house: Königshaus Palace, the official residence of the kings of Lienne, contains approximately 1,330,000 square feet and has 853 rooms. Tamett’s comparison of it to his own home is over-generous to the Lockridge residence, which contained a mere 6,000 square feet and 15 rooms.

[3] lots and lots of people live here: The occupancy of the palace in 1903 was around 500, including the royal family, their staff and retainers, and the members of the court.

[4] I have my own room: Tamett’s bedroom was located on the second (first) floor of the wing of the palace occupied by the royal family, in a small corridor near Josiah’s suite, neighboring rooms occupied by Lord Protzmann and Josiah’s tutors. The room had been used previously as accommodation for royal children’s retainers and as a bedroom for younger members of particularly large broods of royal children. It contained a bed, a chest of drawers, a wardrobe, a desk and chair, and a washstand. Tamett continued to use this room throughout his entire stint as Josiah’s companion, even as a young man.

[5] a long window with bars: The windows of all rooms on the children’s floor of this wing had bars as a safety precaution, including rooms occupied by adults.

[6] a box thing on the wall that rings when they want me: The annunciator system was installed in Königshaus in the late eighteenth century and updated to reflect technological developments later in the nineteenth century. The annunciator in Tamett’s room had been installed specifically for his arrival and connected to bells in every one of Josiah’s rooms, as well as the main rooms of the royal children’s floor.

[7] my bicycle: Lord Protzmann granted permission for Tamett to bring his bicycle with him when he took up residence in Königshaus. This was less for Tamett’s personal convenience than in the hope that Josiah would develop more of an interest in bicycling as a result of his companion’s influence. A photograph exists of both boys cycling together, but the stiffness of their posture suggests that the photograph was staged for the benefit of Odren, to whom it is inscribed.

[8] Uncle Tamett says hello. He lives here now but I don’t know where: Tamett Lockridge’s uncle, Tamett Kassback, Duke of Reierwardt, officially resided in Norriber near the Lockridge home, but after his arranging for the employment of Tamett, he was granted a full-time position at court, which he maintained for the next three years. He divided his time between the palace and his own home, with more time spent at the former. His apartments were located in the wing opposite that in which Tamett lived, with the palace’s central section in between. These were official rooms forbidden to Tamett, making it difficult for him to visit his uncle without official permission.

[9] The food is good: Among the cultural distinctions of Lienne that Odren VII took pride in promoting was its cuisine. To reflect the supremacy of Liennese cooking, he employed twenty chefs to cook for his household. These men, leading representatives of their field, were led by Egmund Simmoner, innovator of numerous recipes created in the king’s honor or to the specifications of the royal family’s preferences. The royal children’s food was of the same quality as their parents’, with even simple dishes being given Simmoner’s special creative touch.

[10] I do lots of lessons: Josiah and Tamett began lessons at seven-thirty in the morning and concluded their activities at five o’clock in the afternoon, with a few brief breaks in between for lunch and an afternoon walk. Most schools in Lienne at this time began lessons at eight-thirty and ended at three o’clock.

[11] I haven’t seen the King again: The Duke of Reierwardt introduced Tamett to Odren and the royal children for official approval upon Tamett’s arrival. The visit was brief; as soon as Odren was satisfied that Tamett was a suitable companion for his son, he took his leave and allowed Lord Protzmann to handle the details from there. This was a surprise to the household, given Odren’s usual practice of personally overseeing most details of his children’s lives, but in the aftermath of Queen Nyella’s death, he retreated from many such duties.

[12] Everyone wears black but I don’t have to, so ha: The court observed a six-month period of mourning after the death of Nyella. Although a widower could end his mourning and re-enter society after three months (as had been done after Queen Liane’s death), Odren observed two years of mourning for Nyella and insisted that his children do the same.

[13] His Royal Highness is a beast and I don’t want to stay here anymore: According to the royal children’s nurse-governess Karnella Arndt in her memoir Thirty Years at the Liennese Court, Josiah spent most of the first week after Tamett’s arrival refusing to speak or interact with him more than necessary, despite a brief moment of connection between them at their first meeting.

[14] Lord Protzmann. Your uncle Tamett says he is the one looking after you: Lord Protzmann had been the head of the household of the royal children of Lienne since 1885. He had handled the employment of Tamett and would serve as the boy’s official supervisor.

[15] His Royal Highness’s governess, perhaps?: In a letter to her sister-in-law Klariesa, dated 28 January 1903, Elina expounds further on her concerns: “After all, he is not yet eight, and he still needs a woman to look after him. I had been assured that he would be treated as one of the royal family’s own, but with the passing of Her Majesty (God rest her soul), I fear that those children will be allowed to run wild, and Tamett will be among them and probably the wildest of all.”

[16] Ask your uncle the next time you see him to take a photograph of you in your new room. We would love to see it: A photograph from the Kassbeck family album, dated February 1903, depicts Tamett standing in the middle of his palace bedroom with one arm stiffly extended as if to show off the place. The room appears to be in a state of some disorder, and the bedclothes are askew.

[17] We don’t want the palace staff to think that we live like pigs here in Norriber!: Tidiness is an important value in Liennese culture; Liennese children are taught from their earliest years that “we must all improve our own little corner of the world.” The Norriberrian culture was a bit more relaxed in its approach to life, which over time became twisted into a Liennese stereotype of Norriberrians as untidy at best and filthy at worst. Although the young Tamett would not have been aware of this stereotype, Elina certainly was, and admonitions such as this one frequently appear in her letters to her son.

[18] Yes, the bars on the window are not like home, but they’re there to keep you safe: Norriberrian windows tend to be fairly small and placed higher on the walls than Liennese windows, making bars on children’s windows less necessary.

[19] You need to put it back immediately and tell Lord Protzmann what you did so he can have the annunciator properly repaired: Household maintenance reports indicated that Tamett did indeed inform Protzmann of the damage to the annunciator, although the report seems to suggest that it was the result of accidental damage rather than tampering.

[20] Without the bell, His Royal Highness can’t let you know when he needs you, and that is your responsibility, to be there when he calls: As Josiah grew used to Tamett, the bell was used with increasing frequency. A letter from Tamett to his parents, dated 12 December 1907, indicates that Josiah once rang the bell for him fifty-nine times within a period of twenty-four hours, including at night. The service required was typically small menial tasks.

[21] He is probably already very sad: The newspaper covered Nyella’s death extensively, with numerous large photographs from her funeral and other observances. A famous photograph made the front cover of the Golden Eagle, depicting seven-year-old Josiah in deep mourning, walking behind his mother’s casket and holding his sister Ayra’s hand. His expression is that of an adult holding back tears, and this noble stoicism impressed the Liennese, who were prouder than ever of their brave young Crown Prince. Elina likely had this image in mind when she discussed Josiah’s grief with Tamett.

[22] I need you to remember how he must feel and be thoughtful: There are multiple anecdotes of the young Tamett’s penchant for bluntness, although he does not seem to have had malicious intent. Elina relates in a 7 March 1903 letter to Klariesa how Tamett reportedly informed Josiah not only that their mothers had been at school together but that Elina had thought Nyella was “rather silly.” This caused considerable uproar and the need for Tamett to formally apologize after a lengthy lecture on the importance of tact.

[23] I’m sure His Royal Highness is a perfectly nice little boy: By the age of seven, Josiah had not made many public appearances. Carefully chosen photographs were commonly published, depicting him engaging in appropriate princely behavior (saluting officers, greeting dignitaries, bestowing charitable gifts, etc.) or displayed prominently in family groupings featured on postcards, and occasionally press releases would announce his commendable progress in his studies or report on his various talents. Such would have been the only impression of him that Elina and other members of the public would have had.

[24] he’ll try to come and see you at least once a week: Household records indicate that Reierwardt during his residence at court visited his nephew no more frequently than once a month.

[25] I miss you so much and it’s not the same without you: Tamett at this point had been absent from home for about a week.

[26] Lovisa and I tried to go sledding yesterday but we fell into the snow because you weren’t there to steer it right: A letter of Elina’s to Klariesa from this same date provides a less sensational account: “The girls went sledding this afternoon at my insistence. The noise was becoming more than I could bear. They seemed to be in better spirits when they returned, as was I.”

[27] I said no and went upstairs to practice: Emenor was taught from 1900 to 1907 by Arild Vester, a local musician who supplemented his income by teaching children the basics of the violin. Most of his students were not interested in making a serious study of the instrument, and he was taken aback by Emenor’s gift and drive, which eventually proved to be more than he could handle.

[28] a piece called I Miss Tamett And The Prince Can’t Have Him: Emenor claimed in later years in a letter to Tamett that she had worked the original melody of this composition briefly into one of her own concertos. Given the tone of her letter, it is believed that she was joking.

[29] if he won’t I’ll slap him: In early childhood, Tamett was observed by members of his family to be a particularly resigned child who seldom tried to defend himself when mistreated by older children. This bothered Emenor, and though only a year his senior, she made a point of boldly confronting anyone who dared torment her brother, including some adults.

[30] Lessons are boring and the tutors say I’m bad at them: Tamett’s earliest school report from his time at the palace sums up his conduct as “inattentive and idle.” Lessons were given at the academic level to which Josiah had attained, and Tamett was expected to keep up with little assistance since Josiah tended to become impatient and fractious when forced to wait while his tutors re-explained concepts to Tamett.

[31] They gave me a violin: Music lessons were a crucial part of a complete Liennese education, and there was never any question of whether the new companion might not have the aptitude for it. Tamett was assigned the violin because the household had an extra one on hand and because he could then easily share a violin tutor with Josiah.

[32] I put it in my desk drawer for later: Tamett’s insect collections raised frequent complaints from the staff who cleaned his room. There were a few incidents of maids surprised into screaming at the sight of dozens of insects inside drawers and containers.

[33] Do you want one?: No evidence exists that Tamett ever succeeded in sending Emenor an insect of any kind through the post.

[34] We carefully monitor incoming letters to ensure that they pose no danger and cause no distress to the royal family, particularly during this period of mourning: Lord Protzmann and Count Korbinian, the head of the King’s personal household, maintained a staff of letter monitors, numbering eleven in 1903. These workers were sworn to secrecy regarding the contents of the letters they read and could be prosecuted for violating this trust. In 1904, one such staff member was arrested and imprisoned for thirty-five years for selling the contents of one of Odren’s letters to a disreputable newspaper.

[35] it would seem that your son’s original letter containing the offensive word escaped our notice: Tamett’s letter escaped the notice of the monitors because he had given it to Reierwardt to post inside one of his letters, and the Duke’s letters were not under surveillance at that time. Reierwardt had not bothered to read the letter either.

[36] surely you would not have permitted her to send such a letter had you known what atrocities it contained: Edvin Lockridge later explained to Protzmann that Emenor had written and posted the letter before anyone could even think of reading it.

[37] it would certainly be a shame if he had to leave us abruptly: Multiple instances of the summary dismissal of children brought in as temporary playmates (not official companions) before the engagement of Tamett are related in household records. In 1902 alone, Mertrad Mertz was sent away for “antagonizing” Josiah, Tillo Knopp for “failure to make himself agreeable,” and Kolrad Holzhof for “indecorous displays of emotion.”

[38] Dominion for Lienne!: Although this slogan was a common and acceptable expression of patriotic fervor in Lienne, when said to a Norriberrian it carried a more provocative meaning. Norriberrian nationalists considered it an offensive reminder of the subjugation of Norriber and of Liennese oppression.

[39] Someone said we’re going to learn how to ride soon: Josiah and Tamett’s equestrian studies were led by Odren’s Master of the Horse, Odmar Rasch. Both boys made reasonable progress, although greater attention was given to Josiah’s lessons. Nevertheless, Rasch was among the few instructors to find little fault with Tamett’s work.

[40] I have six crickets now in my desk drawer: According to household records, the racket caused by these crickets led to their discovery and disposal and a reprimand for Tamett.

[41] It’s a boy and his name is Miki: The infant Mikaiah was currently in the care of his chief nursemaid Judepha Farnforst, her assistant Wilessa Unruhe, and a wet nurse, Odilie Beck, who had been engaged in a hurry after Nyella’s death. (Nyella had made the unconventional choice to nurse the infant Josiah herself and planned to do the same with her second child.) Farnforst’s reports indicate that Mikaiah at this stage was a healthy, normal, easygoing baby. His sister Ateva regularly visited his nursery and brought him out to see the rest of the family as often as the nurses would allow her. Odren, Ayra, and Josiah showed much less interest, although Ateva’s album includes a series of photographs, presumably taken by her, of each member of the family holding Mikaiah, with varying degrees of detachment evident in their expressions.

[42] When are we getting our baby?: Tamett and his sisters had been informed several months before of an impending sibling. Zella was born Thursday, 2 April 1903.

[43] as I hope to represent our region someday: Since 1896, Edvin had conducted a series of unsuccessful campaigns for the office of his area’s representative in Norriber’s delegation to the Liennese court.

[44] He must not think that Norriber is rebellious and unkind but cooperative and pleasant: The Duke of Reierwardt, from whom Elina Lockridge was descended, had historically taken the stance of compliance with the Liennese occupation, and such was the official political position of the Lockridge household.

[45] Find something that you have in common. Do something amusing together. Commiserate with him in his grief: There is no evidence that any of these strategies were undertaken. Whether this was due to Tamett’s reticence or Josiah’s unreceptiveness or perhaps some of both is unclear.

[46] Note the new stamp on the envelope!: Edvin Lockridge was an avid philatelist. The stamp in question was one of a recently released set depicting King Odren in profile, with the image updated to reflect an idealization of his current appearance. (The previous style of stamp had been issued sixteen years before, when Odren was about thirty.)

[47] Extensive illegible crossed-out passage: Effort has been made to decipher the censored portions of this letter, but nothing is legible except what might be the word “say.” The erratic nature of the crossing-out suggests that eight-year-old Emenor did it herself, perhaps at the insistence of her parents.

[48] “To Engella”: This famous piece by composer Lukaz Boschbrandt is to this day commonly taught to beginning music students because of its simplicity and illustration of fundamental techniques. “Engella” was Enga Boschbrandt, Boschbrandt’s niece, who had asked him for “just a lullabye.”

[49] How long has His Royal Highness been playing?: At Odren’s insistence, Josiah began violin lessons at age three, around the same time he began studying the piano.

[50] Extensive illegible crossed-out passage: Some historians have made the words “I am better than” beneath the scribbles, but otherwise this section is lost to our understanding.

[51] Mama says that I might be a companion too. Except I won’t go to the palace, just to Aunt Klariesa: Emenor worked as her aunt Klariesa’s companion from April 1903 to August 1903. Klariesa did not find her suitable for the role; Emenor reportedly protested against what she believed was unfair treatment and did not take kindly to being at someone’s beck and call. Klariesa in turn objected to her niece’s constant indulgence in musicality. Several years later, the companion place was attempted again with Lovisa, who proved a better match for her aunt’s temperament.

[52] I want to buy new music with my pocket money when I get it: Emenor never received any of the salary paid to her as companion; the money went to her parents.

[53] I hope you will come to breakfast soon. It has been six days, seven hours, and forty-one minutes since last time: Odren’s habits, usually quite regular, underwent a change after Nyella’s death. He rose later in the morning, took nearly all meals in private, and left his suite much less often.

[54] I do not want a companion: The decision to provide Josiah with a companion had originally risen from his own wish for someone to play with and his mother’s observation that he needed the company of someone his own age.

[55] He is not helping me because he distracts me from lessons with his ignorance: Professor Helmold Ebner, Josiah’s head tutor, recounted in a 6 February 1903 letter to his brother how Josiah used to “correct the Norriberrian child’s peculiar pronunciations and turns of speech and enlighten him to the numerous facts that his previous education seems to have overlooked entirely. He takes an admirable concern for his companion’s education and would make a fine master himself, were he not destined for a more exalted station. Once again, I cannot help thinking that His Royal Highness will grow to be a true Father of his people! What patience, what gracious condescension!”

[56] I will be very unhappy if you do not send him away. And I am already very unhappy. You know why: In the wake of his mother’s death, Josiah developed a habit of using this loss as a reason for his wishes to be granted. It proved effective, especially with his father.

[57] he cannot possibly spare time for every trifling letter that crosses his desk: There is no evidence that Odren ever read the above letter of Josiah’s. It was found not among his personal papers but among business correspondence, typically handled by his secretaries.

[58] Your Royal Highness is well aware of the protocol: Josiah had a long history of lodging complaints with Lord Protzmann whenever some detail of daily life displeased him. There are a series of terse letters in his childish handwriting reporting such things as “bad food,” “staff not doing their work,” and “too many sisters.”

[59] now of an age to refer to His Majesty by his proper familial title: The above letter from Josiah is the last written instance of his calling Odren “Papa.” Everything henceforth is addressed to “Father” or “Your Majesty.”

[60] Oswin Fertig: Odren employed three secretaries to handle his extensive correspondence and help manage his staggering workload. Oswin Fertig, aged about twenty-three in February 1903, was the youngest and most recently engaged of these men. He had acquired his place through a series of fortunate personal connections who recommended him for his superb attention to detail and protocol and for his efficiency. He developed a particular protectiveness of both the king’s limited time and his dignity and would go on to field numerous letters from Odren’s children with the intention of sparing his sovereign such petty complaints.

[61] It has come to my attention that you are concerned about the well-being of your son Tamett, who has joined our household as companion to my brother the Crown Prince: Ayra, in her new role as female head of the royal household, worked closely with Protzmann in managing household matters. (It was she who, seven years later, would uncover Protzmann’s ongoing embezzling.) She seems to have skimmed the Lockridges’ correspondence.

[62] address you personally, as my brother’s mother would have, were she here: Among Nyella’s papers was found a half-finished letter in her handwriting addressed to Tamett’s family that seems to have been an expression of reassurance and gratitude.

[63] May she rest in peace: A protocol expression. Ayra’s exact feelings regarding the death of her stepmother, with whom she did not get along, remain lost to history.

[64] Karnella Arndt, a respectable woman who has been with the royal family since my own birth: Karnella Arndt, daughter of a furniture maker from the town of Fairesfeld, had recently been widowed when Queen Liane engaged her as chief nursemaid to Princess Ayra in 1885. Arndt’s patience and gentleness endeared her to mother and daughter alike, and she continued with the royal family after the birth of Ateva and was promoted to nurse-governess as the princesses grew older. Although she never had direct care over Josiah or Mikaiah, she remained a fixture in the children’s household even after Odren’s marriage to Nyella.

[65] his leisure time is primarily spent in our company: After such incidents as the dismantling of the annunciator and the insect collections, Tamett was not allowed to spend much time unsupervised.

[66] He has helped me wind wool, listened while I read to the children, and tidied playthings at the end of each day: Ateva’s photograph album corroborates this claim. Candid shots of the family from 1903 on frequently include Tamett, usually sitting a little apart from the others.

[67] My sister Ateva in particular has gone out of her way to make him feel included: Ateva reportedly tried to engage Tamett in conversation whenever possible and loaned him a plush deer which had belonged to her as a child.

[68] Tamett appears to be in good health and has made no objection to living among us of which I am aware: There is little evidence that Ayra had spoken much to Tamett directly at this point. Tamett’s letters seldom mention her directly.

[69] If the King my father and Lord Protzmann approve and arrangements are made well in advance, you both are welcome to call on him: Tamett’s parents visited him at the palace approximately twice in his entire time as Josiah’s companion. The journey to the palace was a long, expensive one, and the process for approval of a visit was even lengthier and more bothersome. Unbeknownst to Tamett, Protzmann sometimes turned down the Lockridges’ requests to visit, fearing that too much association with them would make Tamett homesick.

[70] Although I will likely be otherwise occupied, my sister Ateva will be happy to receive you: Ayra’s responsibilities changed after Nyella’s death, when she was required to take on many of the duties usually regulated to the king’s consort. Her timetables reveal tightly planned days, with even less time for leisure than her brother. Thus social visits with people of less consequence were often delegated to Ateva.

[71] I give you my word that he will regard Tamett with increasing esteem as the acquaintance continues: A letter of complaint from Josiah to Odren around this time relates an incident in which Ayra attempted to scold her brother for some perceived ill-treatment of Tamett.

[72] If you have any further concerns regarding Tamett, please address them to Lord Protzmann or Karnella Arndt, who can best address such matters: No further correspondence between Ayra and Tamett’s parents exists.

[73] He says he doesn’t want them anymore now: Around this time, playthings disappear from photographs of Josiah, replaced by primarily books, instruments, or schoolwork. Lists of his birthday and Christmas gifts from 1903 no longer include toys.

[74] Ateva let me hold Miki again. I can make him laugh: An entire page of Ateva’s photograph album features shots of Tamett making faces at a smiling Mikaiah.

[75] I think we might be friends now: Also from Ateva’s album is a clearly posed photograph of the “friends”: Josiah seated on a stool with one hand laid patronizingly on the shoulder of Tamett, who kneels near his feet.

[76] I hope I can come home soon: Tamett was permitted to return home for a week around his birthday in April 1903. It was hoped that a brief absence would clear the air between him and Josiah.

[77] I will ask the caterpillar man: i.e Lord Protzmann, whose distinctive facial hair evidently reminded Tamett of caterpillars. It is likely that Tamett substituted the nickname here because he was unsure how to spell Protzmann’s name.

#The Blackberry Bushes #A Selection of Letters Related to Tamett Lockridge 1903 #my writing #Tamett Lockridge #Elina Lockridge #Emenor Lockridge #Lord Protzmann #Edvin Lockridge #Josiah Callon #Odren Callon #Oswin Fertig #Ayra Callon #Ateva Callon #Mikaiah Callon

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river-bottom-nightmare · 4 years

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hi, I was wondering if you had any fic recs for dc? i dont mind what ship/character they might include so you can just go wild. also, I love your blog and writing!! thanks in advance if you answer this <3

oh but of course, babe! i’ve got so many fic recs dear lord. hopefully the ones on here will be ones that i haven’t already recced before. and also ahhhh thank you so so much!!

a heart just cant contain all of this empty space by TheMermaidLord (if anyone knows their tumblr, please let me know!) ~27k. the young justice universe, except after season 1, the canon events of the batfamily get woven in. you get to see dick leaving robin, jason joining then dying, how tim first meets the team, how they react to learning jason’s alive again all through the eyes of the yj team (mainly artemis, wally, and dick, but there are others.) this fic is beautiful and heartbreaking and oh so satisfying.

Candle Light and Plastic Bats by @jackdaw-kraai 10k. you know all those hc and concept fics about the relationship batman has with the city of gotham? well this fic is an absolutely gorgeous homage to that. told from the pov of the people of lower gotham, it goes through their relationship with this demon that seemed to haunt their city, going from mistrust and fear to acceptance and kinship. just a really really beautiful fic.

Detective Work by @bekkoni ~8k. i don’t actually ship superbat for a multitude of reasons, but this fic was so goddamn hilarious and cute that i can’t not love it. set in the jlu universe, wally discovers that superman and batman are acting a little ~odd.~ then he does a little more snooping and dear god the consequences are hilarious. featuring identity porn by the bucket-load.

It’s Your Right to Hurt Me Baby (If You Wanted To) by @pluckyredhead 8k. granted, jayroy doesn’t make much sense outside of specific rhato runs, but inside those runs its an actually beautiful ship, and this fic is just one of many testaments to that. smut with feelings, and jason gets the love and affection he sorely needs.

Little Talks by @theo-ography 26k. who here doesn’t love dumb boys in love finally talking about their feelings?? because i love it more than words, but this author somehow did the impossible and managed to put it in words. in this series, dick and wally have some important conversations, do some cuddling, and finally get together. gosh, i love birdflash so. fucking. much.

The Maybe Man by @dustorange ~48k. this is me, screaming about dustorange’s works again because i am such a fangirl for her writing oh my god. after dick leaves bruce and while jason is robin, dick gets abducted and tortured by the court of owls, and then is sent to kill bruce. and bruce fights with every fiber of his being to get his son back. also, jason and bruce’s relationship is so good in this jesus christ. i love reading fics that show just how close jason and bruce were before jason was killed, and this fic had that and more.

Those Who Wait by @last01standing 11k. in a reverse robins fic done beautifully well, this entire fic is written from jon’s pov, and explores damian and jon’s relationship over the years. (basically, jon just falling more and more hopelessly in love with damian.) also, everyone ships it because jon is basically all of the kids’ “uncle jon” and it’s hilarious and i love it. one of my favourite damijon fics, and the p i n i n g is just AHHHH.

un haeng il chi by @danishsweethearts 17k. i can’t actually put into words how much i love this fic, so everyone needs to just go and read it right now so you feel what i feel when finishing this fic. a cass centric fic, this piece of art has the literal best characterizations and metaphors for those characterizations i’ve ever read in my entire life. cass’ relationship with each member of the batfam is unique and beautiful and dear god i could reread this fic a thousand times over without ever getting tired of it.

Watch This by snackbaskets (again, if anyone knows their tumblr, please let me know!) ~2k. this fic is just a oneshot of pure adorableness. the league meets little baby robin!dick for the first time. hal and barry are, at first, terrified for the kid’s life, and then terrified of the devious little mastermind in bright green hotpants. this is just humor and fluff and i love it.

Yesterday’s Voices by @lemonadegarden 49k. oh god i cannot scream my love for this fic enough. bruce, in a time with most of the batfam (including up to steph, damian, cass), gets de-aged to a time where jason was robin and dick was barely speaking to him. and it’s absolutely heartbreaking, because the rest of the batfam get to see how open, kind, and less jaded bruce used to be. if you want a good cry but a happy ending, this fic is wonderful.

if it were deemed socially acceptable, i would build a shrine to all of these wonderful authors in the middle of the street, but unfortunately i have neither the time nor the resources to do that, so i guess screaming about how talented and brilliant they are will have to do instead. hope you enjoy reading these babe!

#fic recs #dc fic recs #batfam fic recs

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sisterssafespace · 3 years

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Asalaam alaikum.. can you advise on how to deal with anxiety?

و عليكم السلام و رحمة الله و بركاته 🤍

أعوذ بالله من الشيطان الرجيم

بسم الله الرحمان الرحيم،

ٱذۡهَبۡ إِلَىٰ فِرۡعَوۡنَ إِنَّهُۥ طَغَىٰ (24) قَالَ رَبِّ ٱشۡرَحۡ لِي صَدۡرِي (25) وَيَسِّرۡ لِيٓ أَمۡرِي (26) وَٱحۡلُلۡ عُقۡدَةٗ مِّن لِّسَانِي (27) يَفۡقَهُواْ قَوۡلِي (28) وَٱجۡعَل لِّي وَزِيرٗا مِّنۡ أَهۡلِي (29) هَٰرُونَ أَخِي (30) ٱشۡدُدۡ بِهِۦٓ أَزۡرِي (31) وَأَشۡرِكۡهُ فِيٓ أَمۡرِي (32) كَيۡ نُسَبِّحَكَ كَثِيرٗا (33) وَنَذۡكُرَكَ كَثِيرًا (34) إِنَّكَ كُنتَ بِنَا بَصِيرٗا (35) قَالَ قَدْ أُوتِيتَ سُؤْلَكَ يَا مُوسَى (36)

24. Go to Pharaoh; He has transgressed.” 25. He said, “My Lord, put my heart at peace for me. 26. And ease my task for me. 27. And untie the knot from my tongue. 28. So they can understand my speech. 29. And appoint an assistant for me, from my family. 30. Aaron, my brother. 31. Strengthen me with him. 32. And have him share in my mission. 33. That we may glorify You much. 34. And remember You much. 35. You are always watching over us.” 36. [Allāh] said, "You have been granted your request, O Moses

ٱذۡهَبَآ إِلَىٰ فِرۡعَوۡنَ إِنَّهُۥ طَغَىٰ (43) فَقُولَا لَهُۥ قَوۡلٗا لَّيِّنٗا لَّعَلَّهُۥ يَتَذَكَّرُ أَوۡ يَخۡشَىٰ (44) قَالَا رَبَّنَآ إِنَّنَا نَخَافُ أَن يَفۡرُطَ عَلَيۡنَآ أَوۡ أَن يَطۡغَىٰ (45) قَالَ لَا تَخَافَآۖ إِنَّنِي مَعَكُمَآ أَسۡمَعُ وَأَرَىٰ (46)

43. Go to Pharaoh. He has tyrannized. 44. But speak to him nicely. Perhaps he will remember, or have some fear.” 45. They said, “Lord, we fear he may persecute us, or become violent.” 46. He said, “Do not fear, I am with you, I hear and I see.

Surat Ta Ha (20) - طه 🤍

Dear sister, I found myself starting with these two passages that are of my absolute favorite passages in the holy Quran in general and in Surat Ta Ha in particular because in my mind when I hear the word anxiety it always connects to surat Ta Ha or what I love to call my anti-anxiety pill. Alhamdulillah.

Now why these passages? It might not be known or talked about a lot, but these verses are a proof that prophet Musa (as) had anxiety. In these verses, Allah swt orders him to go speak to the pharaoh, arguably the most tyrannizing criminal that this earth has seen. This task spikes prophet Musa's anxiety and in the first passage he asks Allah swt to (relax his chest) put his heart at peace and ease his affairs, then he requests support from a family member, his brother Harun (as) - and it is also interpreted that prophet Musa (as) had speech impairment, he has problems in his speech? Thus the " untie the knot from my tongue " duaa he made for Allah swt, so he needed to be also backed up by his brother. Can you imagine the amount of anxiety he must have been feeling and going through? Not only the Lord of the Worlds was directly speaking to him ( a surreal supernatural experience ) but also He swt was giving him such a BIG task! I mean sis! I have a thesis I need to finish and it feels like there is a mountain sitting on my chest 24/7, even when I sleep at night I have nightmares about it. And whenever I have to make an important phone call or go into the principal's office at work, I get the whole rapid heartbeats, stomachache, joint pain, shaky voice and whatnot. You know the drill.. Anyways, back to Musa (as), so what does Allah swt say? He swt doesn't tell him that he (Musa) is crazy or delusional, He swt doesn't accuse him of lack of faith, or of being dominated by the Shaytan's waswasah (whispers) like these now Shaykhs throw at us. He swt is the all-knowing, the most just, the most fair, the most merciful and the most gracious. He swt not only acknowledges prophet Musa (as)'s fear and immediately reassures him and calms his heart : you have been granted your request! " Ya Allah.. this gets me every time wallahi.

You know what's the thing we need the most when our anxiety hits? Reassurance. Full stop. Reassurance silences all the voices inside our heads, calms us down, puts our hearts to ease. And what a better place to get reassurance from other than Allah swt?

And Allah swt does it again, further down in the Surah, when faces with the task again prophet Musa (as) voices his worries again, and Allah swt doesn't get fed up with him, doesn't accuse him of being a coward or annoying.. He swt patiently assures him that He swt is with him and with his brother, He swts hears and listens. I once heard a tafseer for this verse that compares it to a mother's love, when her child goes out to play and she will reassure them by saying she is around not far away she could see them from the window and hear them if they need anything. How comforting, sübhanallah.

With that being said and clarified, let me cut to the chase before the post gets too long.

The first step to dealing with your anxiety is to actually accept it. Never be ashamed of it. It is something that even a high-ranking prophet experienced. It is not a sin, it is not your fault, it is just the way your brain is wired. And it is something that Allah swt is testing you with. And the first step to pass your test is to actually acknowledge and accept it. For me, it felt like my whole life made sense the moment I was diagnosed with anxiety. When my therapist actually uttered the words, which wasn't a long time ago, I felt so sorry for all the girls that I have been, throughout the different stages of my life whom had to struggle and push through the pain, the dilemma, the countless anxiety attacks and made it through without actually knowing what they had, while being called crazy, gaslit, disregard, attacked, humiliated, mocked, bullied, etc.. for something that they didn't do nor did they understand. So my first advice to you is to befriend your anxiety, you win nothing by fighting it and making it your enemy. On the contrary, she (oh trust me it's a she, lmao) is a part of who you are, to the point that it could define some of your personality traits, she lives in your head rent free, she is not going anywhere anytime soon, so you better make peace with her. Rejecting, hating, attacking, blaming your anxiety will only make it worse.

Another basic advice is to actually study it, learn it, identify your triggers, be in tone with your body, pay attention to your mood changes, your heart rate, the stomach pain, or whatever symptoms you experience, and identify the act or event or task that generated and triggered those symptoms. That's how you find your triggers, and then next time when you anticipate that thing, you could go through it in your head, you could rehearse or make plans, you could take all your precautions and whatnot.

As for remedies, I am no therapist, so I am not allowed to prescribe anything, but I do take pills myself when necessary. God knows sometimes it gets too much. Breathing helps. Deep thorough breaths from the tummy, they can help calm your heartbeats.. if when you feel anxious about something you would have the time to read some Quran then please do it, it really calms you down and distracts you from the problem even momentarily. Umm, you can listen to your comfort audio (be it a quran recitation or something like I have already mentioned in the post earlier today), talk to someone who makes you comfortable, whether a parent, a partner, a sibling, a best friend... and finally, I will give you my therapist's golden tip: if it doesn't work, ASK FOR HELP.

And eventually, always go back to Allah swt, the source of all comfort, the source of all reassurance and the source of all good. Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) said, "Allah said, 'I am to my slave as he thinks of Me, (i.e. I am able to do for him what he thinks I can do for him). So always try to think (after you are done freaking out 😅) that Allah swt has got you, and that probably all the bad things that you are scared of won't even come true. Allah swt is the most merciful and the most gracious, He swt is the best of planners and no one has out best interest more than the Pne who created us. Alhamdulillah.

Tbh, I could go on about this for days, but I think I have written the longest answer for an ask in the history of Tumblr. So imma stop here.

I will leave you with 3 very meaningful duaas that are supposed to be recited in the morning and evening adhkar, try to incorporate them in your daily routine, and you will soon notice the difference, bi idhn Allah :)

- بسم الله الذي لا يضر مع اسمه شيء في الأرض و لا في السماء و هو السميع العليم ×3

In the name of Allah with whose name nothing is harmed on earth nor in the heavens and He is The All-Seeing, The All-Knowing. x3

حسبي الله لا إله إلا هو عليه توكلت وهو رب العرش العظيم ×7

Allah is sufficient for me, none has the right to be worshipped except Him, upon Him I rely and He is Lord of the exalted throne. x7

اللَّهُمَّ إِنِّي أَسْأَلُكَ الْعَافِيَةَ فِي الدُّنْيَا وَالآخِرَةِ، اللَّهُمَّ إِنِّي أَسْأَلُكَ الْعَفْوَ وَالْعَافِيَةَ فِي دِينِي وَدُنْيَايَ وَأَهْلِي وَمَالِي، اللَّهُمَّ استُرْ عَوْرَاتي، وآمِنْ رَوْعَاتي، اللَّهمَّ احْفَظْنِي مِنْ بَينِ يَدَيَّ، ومِنْ خَلْفي، وَعن يَميني، وعن شِمالي، ومِن فَوْقِي، وأعُوذُ بِعَظَمَتِكَ أنْ أُغْتَالَ مِنْ تَحتي ×1

O Allah, I ask You for pardon and well-being in this life and the next. O Allah, I ask You for pardon and well-being in my religious and worldly affairs, and my family and my wealth. O Allah, veil my weaknesses and set at ease my dismay, and preserve me from the front and from behind and on my right and on my left and from above, and I take refuge with You lest I be swallowed up by the earth

P.s. you should know that I have written this answer for hours, taking as many breaks as my heart and my mind needed. I hope I managed to make a good enough answer for you 🤍.

May Allah swt calm your worries, and grant your heart sakinah and reassurance. Ameen.

Stay safe my dear, and don't hesitate to talk to me whenever it gets too much.

- A. Z. 🍃

#anxiety #sisterssafespace #surat ta ha

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blackcherrykiss · 3 years

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BLOOD BOUNDARIES - Enhypen OT7 Fanfic (ch.9)

[CH.1] [CH.2] [CH.3] [CH.4] [CH.5] [CH.6] [CH.7][CH.8] previous chapters

[CH.10] next chapter (unavailable on tumblr but avaliable on wattpad!)

You wait outside the nurse's office beside Jay in complete silence. You were both waiting for someone to burst out the door in front of you to rest assure Jungwon's condition.

"You can go to class, I'll stay and wait for Jungwon." Jay broke the noiseless lounge as his eyes laid flat on the grim grey floor. You were willing to stick around but realized it would be better if you were to just leave. Jungwon probably wouldn't want to see you after the minor argument. You simply nodded your head and left without another word.

When you had arrived in your astronomy class you carefully explained yourself, explaining Jay would be gone for most of the afternoon. Your teacher listened intently and understood every word well. Sitting in your usual spot, a wave of frustration washes over you once you remember Sunghoon had stolen your book for the class. You could only hope the new interesting concept of the class would jog your mind off of things to which it did. However, as the class came to a close you couldn't help birdwatch Jay's desk. Jay's absence for the entire class continued to make you worry about Jungwon and his condition.

Sending yourself out of the class in a daze, you began to join the trail of the halls. You met Nana and Dahee walking out of their class at the same time to your surprise, "Oh! Y/N!" With an abrupt slide to slow down you let the two girls catch up to you, "Sorry we couldn't eat lunch with you and Hyesun, we went to track tryouts." Nana gleefully explained.

"It's fine, I had detention for half of lunch and then got caught up in something..." Your head going straight back to Jungwon, "We should all be apologizing to Hyesun right now..." Immediately you got reminded about what Hyesun had mentioned to you earlier, "Hey, Dahee... I actually really need to speak to you about something in private." You asked shamelessly.

Nana looked at you both suspiciously but ultimately respected the privacy you desired, "I'll get going to my last class then, girls." She tapped both of your shoulders before joining the flowing current of the hallway.

You went with Dahee to a more private space, under one of the stairwells of the school. "Dahee, Hyesun told me about you and Sunghoon..." You trailed off, hoping you didn't have to say much more as to what you were about to say.

"So you do like him?" Dahee gasped happily to your surprise, "Don't worry I'm not that into him yet... But you should've told us a long time ago!" She nudged you gently in the elbow.

"Yeah! Sorry about that..." You lied with deep despise. You now had to act like you liked Sunghoon and that was the worst feeling ever, "I'll tell you about it later then, you should get going!" You cut the conversation very short so Dahee could both get to her class in time.

"I will! See you!" She waved in a much brighter mood now that you told her you supposedly liked someone for the first time forever.

"Dear Lord, what am I getting myself into?" You muttered furiously. Were you really going the extra mile to protect your friends over some gut feelings? You were literally praying to God that you would receive some sort of reserved spot in heaven for the shadow work you were doing. That is until you were interrupted by a somberly slow clap and a couple of shoes that clacked against the stairs above you.

"Wasn't expecting such a plot twist..." Sunoo came into clear view after reaching the final step at the bottom of the staircase. This was now the second time you were caught being heard by people separate from your plan. "So you didn't like Jungwon, but Sunghoon?!" He giggled in interest and cheap pity. He seemed rather thrilled to overhear your bullshit.

"I..." You could not come up with a reply in fear of both outcomes. By telling the truth or carrying out the lie to people, you were putting yourself in a very sticky situation.

"Dahee and Sunghoon were hitting it off so well the other day, it's a shame you're in the way..." Sunoo made an overly exaggerated glum face to piss you off, "You don't actually like him now, do you?" Sunoo caught on to your intentions, circling around you, "You're just doing it to save her, yes?"

You remained silent, causing Sunoo to stop right behind you where you felt the heat of his body getting closer.

"You're a lot smarter than some girls... It's enticing really... Perhaps that's why the boys are so fond of you?" Sunoo snaked around his arm to have the dull edge of his nail touch the flesh of between your jaw and neck. Slowly he etched a line down until it was right against your throbbing pulse.

You pulled away in shock as to how scandalous the act was, "I need to go... I'm supposed to check on Jungwon." You stepped away to face Sunoo in an abrupt manner.

"I heard about Jungwon's situation from Jay," He held the sharpest part of his chin between his index and middle finger, "Jungwon will just continue to get sick. He's so malnourished."

"Malnourished?" You echoed Sunoo.

"He chose to end up like that." Sunoo walked toward you again but this time passing you, with his shoulder slightly bumping yours, "Don't pity him, darling."

You shuddered. Sunoo was the most mysterious with his hints. He was the hardest to read between the lines with. For some reason, only he out of the boys influenced your thinking pattern.

...

After school and a mediocre meal at dinner, you regretted not at least peeping your head by the nurse's office just once that afternoon. Jungwon had probably been released from health watch but you thought you could've come to terms with him that evening. It was unsatisfying as you didn't feel any closure between the war of words you had with him. What wasn't helping was the stress you also had from Sunghoon.

The daylight vanished rather quick in the colder season of the year and dusk approached rather faster than a candle blowout. Since Sunghoon didn't set a specific time, you just headed out with not a glance at the clock. Your guess was to sneak out as soon as the sun came falling down. Due to the hallway monitors of your school during the late evening, it suddenly became an obstacle you had not planned for. You were confused yourself as to how Sunghoon could sneak out at this time of day, surely sneaking out super late at night was possible but not in the evening. Eventually, you took a trip out of a window on the bottom floor of the dormitory to bypass one of the school monitors.

You were well aware of how idiotic you looked running down the concrete steps and toward the very back of your school where the shadows of the forest shined brightly. You didn't see Sunghoon at all insight which was making your heart thump in fear and anger. There was no way this guy was going to set you up like this? You bit around random parts on the inside parts of your mouth as the sky grew darker every few seconds. With no one around and nothing around to do as you waited for Sunghoon, you approached the line between the woods and open grass field. You began to get deja vu of Jungwon which made you nervous as you felt the same wispy grass tickle at your calves.

"You actually came?" Sunghoon's voice rang in the open air from behind you, scaring the literal hell out of you.

"Y-yes I did." You sighed as to how close you were to exploring that forest, "Let's just get to the point." You turned your head back just for him to be in your personal space, you almost lost your balance trying to add some room.

"Walk with me." He ignored your jump into things while crossing the boundary between the skylight of dusk and the darkness of the woods. With hesitation and no clue as to what was about to go down, you followed him. "What did you want to hear from me again?" He asked carelessly with hands in his pockets as he guided you over a pile of soil and dead leaves.

"Kyungeun." You answered bluntly. "Why is she tied down to you?"

"That son of a bitch. She told you, huh?" He rolled his eyes in dear annoyance, "I guess you could say I have some information about her that would totally diminish her image." He kicked and crunched around a couple of leaves as he dragged his feet. You remembered Jaeyun had told you Kyungeun had secrets, perhaps that was it? Were you allowed to ask him about it?

Making a mental note to ask Kyungeun about it later you brisked forward to the next question, "Okay? But you said she'd be of no use to you when you get your hands on Dahee... What exactly did you mean?" Your heart thumped in loud eagerness as you move behind Sunghoon.

"She doesn't taste as good." Sunghoon paused to have you hear him clearly, "Her blood."

Your face heated up, a vibrant blush sparkling your face before the sickening realization hit you, "D-don't tell me..." The horror spreading like wildfire in your body from your head downwards. You were frozen to the very core as all the puzzle pieces came together. All the times including the gash on Kyungeun's neck, the warnings Sunoo gave, and Heeseung licking your hand... It wasn't just Sunghoon who was a vampire, it was all of the boys...

What Sunghoon faced you with a gentle eyes he withdrew the small book from inside his blazer, making your ankles shake. "I suppose you'll know why I took this now." He shook the book before throwing it in front of you with pity. You simply watched the book plop on the bed of dead leaves before your shoes in no ability to process or produce words. You didn't even feel like picking up the book as you were afraid of reading it's horrific contents.

"W-well you won't be getting your hands on Dahee any time soon." You tremble with a paralyzing fear as you tried to speak. You were regretting the bold comment, for fuck sakes the boy standing before you could kill you right then and there.

He stepped closer and closer to which you stepped further and further. "Well, then I guess I'll keep Kyungeun under my power until the day she dies." His scornful laugh made you shudder painfully. In full defeat, you were sincerely helpless. You felt you couldn't run nor report the boys, who would ever believe you? You began questioning how you even got in this position.

"Wh-why does it have to be them? Can't you just live without blood?!" You cried pathetically as you backed into a hard tree.

"And end up like Jungwon?" Delight crept onto Sunghoon's white face as yours grew in confusion, "He hasn't drunk blood in months, he's so weak to the point where he can't even stand sometimes..." Sunghoon went on to speak his mind, "Heeseung and I were convinced he was messing around you for your blood."

Your eyes shot wide open in disbelief, "Well he's clearly not like you if he's abstaining from blood."

"It's true... Something changed in him recently after he started talking to you. Perhaps he has fallen for a mortal?"

"Go to fucking hell." You muttered at a volume that wasn't loud enough for Sunghoon to hear.

"As soon as I sensed your presence that day in the library, I knew you would fall down this rabbit hole." He hummed while bending to have your eyes both at the same level. "Curiosity killed the cat."

You held your tongue with no desire to respond to Sunghoon as the closeness was now more than dangerous. But your muted self only gave Sunghoon the opportunity to proceeded to taunt you. He began caging you against the tree, causing you to press up against the rough wood where you couple feel every detail of the bark on your back.

"I remember Heeseung telling Jaeyun and I about just how good the blood from finger tasted... How about a deal?" He caught your attention as you met eyes with him. A full set of upper teeth being exposed between his rosy lips. If there was one thing you had been taught by the caregivers of your school, it was to never make deals with the devil. You knew exactly what kind of bargin Sunghoon had in store for you "I'll leave your friends in peace if you promise me this," He said with a small lean forward so that his chin rested on your collarbone earning a gasp from you,

"You'll give me your blood in exchange for theirs."

#enhypen au #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfic #enhypen ot7 fanfic #jungwon fanfic #yang jungwon fic #heeseung fanfic #lee heeseung fic #jay fanfic #park jongseong fanfic #jake fanfic #sim jaeyun fic #sunghoon fanfic #park sunghoon fic #enhypen fic #kim sunoo fic #sunoo fanfic #niki fanfic #nishimura riki fic

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holycatsandrabbits · 3 years

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Love’s Endless Light: A Good Omens serial romance

READ FROM THE BEGINNING

Chapter 4: Watch By Our Side

CW: childbirth

651 AD, East Anglia

Crowley was drinking wine and watching Aziraphale drink wine, and he wasn’t sure which was more fun. Aziraphale wasn’t quite tipsy yet, but his cheeks were flushed a pretty pink and his blue eyes shone. It was an ironic beauty, an angel indulging in human pleasures.

Crowley was about to make a rather devastating rebuttal to Aziraphale’s opinions on the current Pope when Aziraphale suddenly stopped chattering and looked up. Crowley knew that look. He scanned the restaurant nervously in case the Heavenly message that Aziraphale was receiving said something like Be there in five, save us a table. Not that the other angels ever seemed to want to spend much time with Aziraphale, but—

“It’s not from Upstairs,” Aziraphale said, sounding curious. “It’s a human. Praying to me.”

“What, by name?” Crowley grinned, delighted. “Aziraphale. Do you have a cult?”

The angel immediately flushed a much brighter red. “What? Certainly not.”

“You sure? No devotees on their knees, lighting candles, venerating that greatest of angels, Guard of the Eastern Gate of—”

“Stop that. I do not have a cult. Just someone who needs help.” Aziraphale clunked his glass down on the table. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to see what’s going on.”

Crowley clunked his glass down right next to Aziraphale’s. “I won’t excuse you. I’m coming too.”

Aziraphale glowered at him. “You are not. People who pray to angels do not wish to be visited by demons.”

“I know,” Crowley said with a smirk. “That’s what makes it so much fun. Anyhow, if it turns out you do have a cult, I can help scare them off for you. Your defeat at the hands of the Serpent of Eden would certainly dampen any overzealous admiration.”

“Oh, good Lord,” Aziraphale breathed. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

It was immediately clear, though, that there was no cult. Aziraphale’s miracle landed them in a dirty alleyway beside a solitary woman, groaning with pain. Aziraphale came to his knees beside her in the dust. Despite not appearing as an angel in glory, Aziraphale seemed to glow anyway, dressed all in white against the muck of the alley.

“Crowley, she’s in labor,” Aziraphale said. “Twins.”

“Where do you want to go?” Crowley asked.

“Anywhere clean.”

Crowley snapped his fingers this time and the three of them appeared in Crowley’s small, tidy room in the nearby village. Crowley knew where Aziraphale was staying in London— how he instinctively knew Aziraphale’s whereabouts was a bit of a mystery to Crowley, one he didn’t want to investigate very far (and Satan forbid he think on the question of why)— but heavenly guards were not meant to sleep, and Crowley guessed that Aziraphale would not have a bed.

Aziraphale held the woman easily in his arms, as if a fully pregnant human weighed not more than a cup of wine. Crowley remembered Aziraphale carrying him that time in Gaul, with the consecrated hill, and a not-entirely-unpleasant shiver went up his spine.

“Don’t worry, my dear,” Aziraphale said as he laid the woman down on Crowley’s bed. “You’re all going to be just fine.”

The woman grasped Aziraphale’s wrist. “Are you— are you really an angel?”

“You should turn your lights on,” Crowley advised.

Aziraphale looked up, and Crowley saw a deep sadness in his eyes, one that went all the way back to a street fight in Mesoamerica and a child frightened of an angel in glory.

“Just a little,” Crowley said. “Just your overhead maybe.”

Aziraphale still hesitated. Crowley found himself giving the angel a reassuring smile, and for some reason Aziraphale seemed to trust it. He closed his eyes a moment, and a glow grew around his head, bright and full as any angel’s halo, and yet different from any Crowley had ever seen: not white but gold, not cold but warm. Crowley had the unpleasantly undemonic thought that Aziraphale was even more beautiful with his halo shining than he had been when flushed with wine.

“Lowest setting,” Aziraphale said nervously. “What do you think?”

“Didn’t know it had a low setting.”

“Well, it does now.”

The woman in the bed seemed to calm as she gazed on the angelic glow. “I’m Aziraphale,” the angel said, taking her hand. “And I believe you are the first human ever to pray directly to me.”

The woman grimaced as a contraction gripped her. “I saw you in a book,” she gasped, when she could. “It had a picture of you in the Garden of Eden. Somebody told me your name and I never forgot it.”

Aziraphale was smiling now. “Oh, how lovely.”

Crowley smirked. “Was I in it?”

Aziraphale gave Crowley an amused glance. “Don’t worry, I’m sure it captured your best side, dear.”

“I tried—” The woman looked apologetic. “I prayed to God, but I don’t think He listened. I don’t blame Him. These children are by a man married to someone else. I just—” She looked down at their joined hands. “I’m sorry, but I thought that if you were a minor angel, then maybe you wouldn’t be so busy. That maybe you could spare a few moments for a fallen woman.”

Aziraphale’s eyes looked wet, but he gave no other sign of distress. “Don’t be afraid,” he said quietly. “You aren’t alone.”

Crowley had never seen a birth before. Aziraphale must have, because he didn’t seem surprised by all the noise and mess. Crowley planned to assist by staying out of the way, but Aziraphale firmly thwarted that by handing Crowley an infant. Crowley’s surprise must have been obvious because Aziraphale took the time to remind him that there was a second infant still coming.

The baby Crowley was holding was tiny and messy and very mad, which Crowley supposed made sense. After all, he had been somewhere warm and protected with his mother, and now he was somewhere cold and unfamiliar with a stranger. The baby’s hands were curled into little fists and he yelled much more loudly than Crowley would have guessed he could. Crowley summoned a blanket to wrap him securely and held him against his chest. After a moment, Crowley thought to give himself a heart beat, although he normally didn’t bother with one in his corporation. The baby seemed to respond to feeling it, which was to say that he yelled slightly less loudly.

After the second baby was delivered, the woman slumped back against the bed, exhausted. Aziraphale cleaned everything with a gentle miracle and looked over both infants carefully.

“Are they all right?” the mother asked anxiously.

Aziraphale smiled at her. “Perfectly.”

The woman started to cry, which she had not done during the birth. Aziraphale handed Crowley both infants without hesitation, as if he thought Crowley might somehow understand how to hold two infants at once, which he absolutely did not, but fortunately, he figured it out. Aziraphale put his arms around the mother and held her close.

“I was sure God would punish me,” the woman sobbed. “For being with a married man. No one I knew would help me, and I thought He was going to take my children.”

“God works in mysterious ways, and by an ineffable plan,” Aziraphale said, in such a pained voice that it cut through even the babies’ wails. “Don’t worry about mistakes that you think you’ve made. Just focus on your work, and those you love. That’s— that’s what I try to do, anyway.”

Aziraphale pressed a kiss to the top of the woman’s head and Crowley felt an angelic blessing echo through the room, which made his skin itch just when he didn't have hands free to scratch.

“There’s no need to fear,” Aziraphale said to the woman. “I’ll keep watch over you.”

READ FROM THE BEGINNING

Read on Ao3

Updates Fridays on Ao3 and Tumblr.

Want to create fic, art, or other works based on this series? Please do! Just dm or tag me.

My previous Good Omens serial: Mr. Fell’s Bookshop

My Carrd

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Image text: Love’s Endless Light by Dannye Chase (HolyCatsAndRabbits) Chapter 4

As Aziraphale and Crowley slowly fall in love over the millennia, Crowley discovers that Aziraphale is keeping a very dangerous secret.

#Dannye writes #good omens #good omens fanfic #Love's Endless Light

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justmywriting1313 · 4 years

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Sad M/C headcanons Part 1 (Diavolo, Solomon and Simeon)

Hello lovelies!!!! I hope you guys are having an amazing week so far!!

Okay so I am really sorry the fics have been delayed… unfortunately while my brother and dog were playing near my desk they caused my laptop to fall and well it stopped working and then when it did all of my saved work got lost 😭😭 i knowww i should have been more careful with letting them play there but anywhooo you guys can imagine the conundrum I am in now while I am trying to rewrite like ten fics in one go soooooo I really am sorry!!!!

But I still wanted to give you guys some stuff so I stayed up last night to write a bunch of headcanons (which are actually proper hc’s this time 😂) on my iPad which btw is very difficult to type on!! anywhooo I have 4-5 of them so ill keep posting the as I finish editing and just keep an eye out in the coming week for the proper fics 😊

I hope you like them and please don’t forget to like, reblog and request stuff

Summary: Diavolo, Simeon and Solomon x Sad M/C and how they react to her crying + how they cheer her up!

Trigger warnings: Not anything but i guess Homesickness and just yeah being a bit sad.

DIAVOLO:

Oh dear

Okay so I genuinely believe that as much as this man is the crown prince of Devildom and whatnot he is a friggin teddy bear in disguise so seeing anyone cry much less someone he cares about and has feelings for will not at sit well with him.

I feel like for him this would be a little difficult to navigate because as unrelentless he is in his love and care for others he also doesn’t want to seem to overbearing and pushy. With Lucifer its different cause he has known him for so long but as much as he wants to control himself I really don’t think he will be able to especially cause he will be the quickest in picking up that your mood was off.

So at first he will notice when you are not as boisterous in the student council meetings and not as vocal as usual. He will frown at that and even ask you. You saying you're fine will not do much to settle his nerves especially cause he can tell when someone is lying. Then he will ask Lucifer who would tell Diavolo honestly that they noticed but nothing seemed to be cheering you up.

Diavolo will take it upon himself to change that so prepare for A LOT of love and affection sweet lord! He will ask everyone what they think he should do before combining that this huge care package kind of. I mean he would even get Barabatros to help.

Honestly he gives me such sweet romantic vibes and i just cannot

Anyway That day when you get back to your room, you kind of let all the negative feelings settle inside you, and you know its good to feel all of your emotions and not run from them so instead of avoiding it you decide to embrace it. You do what you used to do in the human realm to get through this sad period. You lock your door, put on dim lights, make sure the room is cold and then play your music and curl up under the blankets and cry.

Diavolo was rushing to your room excited and determined to make you properly smile. In his arms he made a care package with your favourite foods he made sure not to bump into Beel and chocolates, he even managed to get many of them especially from the human realm. He had Barabatros go buy plushies and stuff toys that Lucifer told him you really loved. He even got some stuff from the boys like your favourite book from the human realm (Satan had told him which one), A face mask from Asmo, an Anime series from Levi! he even managed to find your favourite flowers.

Before he could knock on your door though he had heard you crying and whimpering and immediately was more concerned but also again more determined. He first knocked but when you don’t respond he will get too worried and use his powers to get past the door. Even though he knows you might want space but he just needs to kinda see you're alright.

(also btw I feel like the opening the door with powers is a tumblr trope and not real but i am just gonna use it for now)

He will first feel the chill of the room, then he will take in the dim lights and finally he will zero in on your curled up shaking figure on the bed.

I think his first instinct would be to come and hug you and kind of figure out what caused this but I think he knows some people might want space at first; especially humans so he would put the little care box on the table and then walk over to you. He’ll wipe the tears of your face and once you can breathe enough to talk he will ask if you want space right now.

If yes; I am not gonna lie this will be difficult for the poor man... but he’ll kiss you on the forehead, make sure you can easily get the stuff in the care package, put some water for you and make sure your DDD is either charging or close to you should you want to call him. After that he will wait in Lucifers office for your call

Cue exasperated Lucifer who hopes you’ll call soon because this man spends too much time with Diavolo as it is

And honestly I think Diavolo would wait only an hour maybe two before he is knocking at your door asking if you still need space or if he can come hug you now.

If you say no though and if you want him close oh boiiiii!!!!

So many friggin cuddles you have no idea!!!!!

He would take his shoes of, make the lights slightly brighter but not enough to shock you and get your care package and laptop closer. Once he has everything he needs and the door is locked. He will get in bed and wrap you in his arms while placing you on his lap. He will then first tell you to get it out of your system and just cry everything out. He’ll pat your head, and rub you back stroke your hair, kiss your forehead.

“Shhhhh love... it’s okay! let it all out”

Also no point in trying to hide your face from him cause he’ll force your hands away from your face, and then kiss you all over.

Once you have calmed down he’ll ask you if you want to talk about it.

If not well then more cuddles and love until you do.

But if you do want to in that moment, he will listen with all his attention so you know its completely cool for you to vent and that he wants to hear what you have to say. You would do it while eating chocolate and you would even get him to eat some.

If its something small, at first he might find it hard to connect and kind of you know see the point in it but he wont make you feel bad. Especially if it’s something he could fix or you guys could fix together.

“All you had to do was tell me princess... Then you wouldn’t have to feel this way!”

He will let you explain that regardless sometimes small things just culminate to overwhelm you and you just needed to let it out.

If its something big though there is no way he would not pull all the stops to change the situation and turn it around. For example like if you were crying cause you just kinda missed the different seasons of the human realm, so feeling the warmth of the sun, the winds of winter, the colour smells of flowers in spring and the playing in the rain, even though he was sitting with you he would already be planning a holiday for you guys to take in the human realm.

He would continue to shower affection over you, and then a week later he would announce the holiday and both of you would just be squealing and giggling together.

Overall i just think that just sitting back and letting someone figure out their emotions on their own is not something Diavolo is capable of because he is too loving and caring. Sometimes it might be suffocating so you have to kind of remind him to give you space and that its incredibly normal. His care is not just because you are the human exchange student and he wants you to have a good time but because maybe one day he might ask you to stay and it gives him a sense of relief that if this is something he can handle he will be able to continue to support you should you chose to stay.

SOLOMON:

Okay so I wont lie when I first saw Solomon even in the game I was just like …. This boi be sneaky!!!! Like he has the kind of smile thats like even if he isn’t, it looks like he is hiding something. Also at first he seems a bit cocky but then throughout the game he kind of showed that he was trustworthy so I started thinking what would he be like in a relationship and then have to help with a crying M/C and it was a bit difficult...

But then I realised that if a) he trusts someone enough to be in a relationship with them and puts effort in and b) is the only other human there then he would probably have the easiest time reading your emotions. I feel like even if you weren't dating actually he seems like the kind of person who once he cares puts his all into a relationship. (obviously exceptions; if you guys want an hc on what kind of person i think he is let me know)

Given his observant nature he would know something is wrong before you even said anything. Again this is in the early stages of the relationship and so it’s not like he would immediately know what to do, maybe later on so for now he tries to help in his own way.

If you had been feeling sad for a while he would do stuff to make sure nothing makes it worse without you even knowing. Like if Lucifer was going to give you a lecture for something you did or didn’t do, Solomon would make sure you and Lucifer don’t see each other until he fixes it and then tells Lucifer it was all okay to begin with. He would make sure Mammon despite all his Mammon tendencies is sensitive to the fact that you were not in the best mood, makes sure your favourite snacks are hidden away from Beel, your favourite books are in your room when you need them and not lost with Satan. Stuff like that.

I think Solomon is pretty balanced but he would make sure to spend more time with you, even if its through studying, practicing magic or just even sitting together.

I am certain he would learn spells that made people do silly things like a spell that made Mammon seem like a chicken wing or something so Beel almost ate him idk this was difficult to think of. All of this just to see you smile.

However one day it all comes to head when one of the boys made a comment maybe about the human world or something along human weakness and even though it usually doesn’t bother you if you were missing home/ family or maybe just even sunlight... then like it obviously hurt your feelings plus if it didn’t have do with why you’re sad if was still a triggering conversation. You could feel the tears collect in your eyes and your shoulders start to shake from trying to keep your sobs at bay. Solomon had been observing you and he knew that comment would set you off despite his efforts in the week so he would try to give you hidden signs of care like trying to reach for your hand under the table or patting your knee with his hand.

Before anyone else could say or do anything though you grabbed your bag and were out of the room. You booked it back to the house of Lamentation and into your room, where you kind of curled into a ball either in bed or while taking a warm shower and just started crying.

Once you left Solomon got up and glared at the culprit while everyone remained silent. Some of the boys were going to follow you but Solomon stopped them saying you needed space.

Before Solomon himself could go find you Diavolo and Lucifer asked him to stay back and explain what just happened. He contemplated not listening before realising this is a good way to give you space to cool off should you need it. After this it would be easier to get you to talk when you aren’t overwhelmed so instead he stayed back and explained that you had been feeling sad though he was yet unsure as to why but would try and find out. Though concerned the two demons let him go and told him to tell them should you need anything or if it gets worse.

Solomon would then make it to the House of Lamentation and to your room though he would stop first by the House of Purgatory to get like some spell books, his coat and some of Luke’s baked treats to improve your mood.

By this time you had probably changed into comfier clothes maybe a hoodie and now were crying into your pillow.

Solomon had heard this outside your door and was now a little more concerned. Despite knocking if you didn’t let him in he would use magic cause I really don’t think this boy is above doing that. When he saw you curled up, hugging your knees and just shaking from how hard you were crying and trying to breathe...

I feel like that would be the first time he would actually drop his cool collected persona and actually worry its something more serious.

Also at this point he knows he has given you more than enough space so if you ask him to leave he isn’t going to listen. After a certain amount of time space becomes an excuse to avoid and he doesn’t want the situation to deteriorate. if you ask for space then he would just sit further away from you and wait for you to start talking though he isn’t leaving until you do.

If you don’t mind though then he would come closer to you. I feel like in terms of touch when it comes to gentle comforting touches he is more hesitant so you might have to despite the circumstances encourage him by like holding your arms out or straight out asking for him to hug you.

Once he gets the okay though he will stay with you. If you need to cry more; sure go for it he is right there with tissues and water. If you want to eat baked goods; he came prepared. You want to just watch videos; let’s get you cosy in his jacket and wrap the both of you in blankets with your DDD. You wanna try learning a magic spell; get the books out lastly you want to just cuddle; he isn’t going anywhere. Anything to get you to talk cause he doesn't want you to bottle things up, he knows human and demons alike have a tendency to do so.

Finally when you talk you have all of his attention. He wants you to feel comforted enough by him to be able to talk.

If its a small thing or a combination of many small things besides listening I feel like he would be making a mental list of to do things so they don’t keep coming back up. Not that these will eliminate an event like this from happening but maybe the intensity of the emotions will be less and you’ll find it also easier to come to him about it. I also think that Solomon would be the least judgemental about small things cause again coming from the human world and despite being a sorcerer he understands human emotions and how some of these things may be related to bad experiences as a child like over-sensory inputs so yeah.

If its a big thing I think similarly but on a larger scale Solomon would try to think of ways to alleviate the tension or sadness. An example I can think of is if you’re missing your family or a specific activity you did with them like a game night where you just played board games. Once you have kind of let everything of your chest and maybe either fallen asleep or something else has taken your attention he would excuse himself for a few minutes and call Diavolo.

He would explain that you were feeling lonely and maybe isolated from everyone cause you missed family and he would explain his plan to fix it. That evening or maybe a Friday evening Solomon would force you to go to Diavolo’s palace under the guise of a report and dinner. When you get there, all the demon bros are there plus the angels and of course Barbatros with a bunch of games that Diavolo and Barbatros spent the week collecting from both Devildom and the human realm and they all just surprise you for a huge family night.

That night you spend the entire night laughing and just feeling the love of your new family as you all play different games together. Seeing poor Mammon’s skinny frame being crushed by the huge frames of Diavolo and Beel during twister made your stomach hurt from giggling. Even playing hide and seek in the palace where Barbatros, Lucifer and Diavolo are not allowed to be in a team together.

That night when you sleep over at the Palace you kind of cuddle up into Solomon’s side and just kiss him whispering thank you and youre already planning to something nice for him in return.

Overall he is very pragmatic and logical thinking about most things but his loving and caring side will always win over with you and if he loves you i feel like he would go to the ends of the earth just to make sure you know it.

SIMEON:

Okay again I first found it difficult to get the ball rolling with this one because honestly even though this boy is so very gentle and loving he is also chilled back in the sense that unless pushed in some way he lets things unfold kind of like Solomon. Though maybe a bit more determined to take action, they both like to kind of hold all their cards to their chest before making a move.

(Again obviously exceptions; if you guys want an hc on what kind of person i think he is let me know)

But then after thinking about it I kind of realised that as an angel besides Solomon he would probably be first few people to know something is up or something is weighing down on you. Unlike Diavolo and Solomon who were more hesitant to come to you straight away Simeon would not hesitate in asking you whats up but like elegantly and not to make you feel bad or like a buzzkill but out of genuine concern.

“M/C dear are you all right? You seem to be out of sorts today…”

“I am fine Simeon! Just tired”

I feel like he would also be very quick in picking out lies... being an angel after all had his perks. He wouldn’t tell you that he knew you weren’t being honest and he wouldn't push the matter then and there but i can definitely see him shadowing you more. He would definitely text you more often and be a bit more present around you even if he has work.

Expect small gestures of love throughout the week. Leaving a flower of some kind outside your door (how he got it there idk? (bribing Mammon I assume)). Leaving a piece of chocolate in your locker so you had something to nibble on though I suspect Beel probably was the one to munch on it. One day somehow before you got to class on your desk was your favourite type of coffee with a little card attached that said he hoped you had a lovely day.

I think he is a big romantic in that sense and he likes small gestures that reassure him and the other person the sincerity of the relationship and their feelings.

As thoughtful as he was being he knew it wasn’t enough when it got harder and harder to see you smile or open up about things. Your breakdown is a very hidden one though and happens kind of quietly and hidden away so it become difficult for Simeon to even realise its happening (though later on in the relationship it gets easier but for now yes).

One day while some of the demon bros, you, Solomon and Simeon were going out for a meal after classes or maybe just planning to do something fun when you had slipped away unnoticed by the group. You very quickly made it to one of the quietist places in the school, especially after school. That when you couldn’t find a single person there; the roof. You sat on the bench there and just looked at the foreign sky and constellations.You hadnt even realised that you were crying until it got difficult to breathe.

You had really actually been missing the experience of going to see sunrises, sunsets and star gazing; something you did almost 3-4 times in the week when you were in the human realm. Despite being very happy here you had looked through old pictures of some of those moments and your heart just yearned for that experience again. Even if it was just once more, it gave you a sense of peace and hope. Yes there were stars in Devildom and you had done your best to know the constellations but you just wanted to go to a place where you actually did; you were looking for familiarity.

Simeon quickly noticed you went missing when he reached out for your hand and didn’t find it swinging next to his. His first thought was that you left your DDD or something behind but his gut was telling him it was something else. So after two minutes of all of you waiting and not seeing any sign of you they all started searching for you. Beel and Mammon took the cafeteria, Satan and Levi the library and the first floor. Solomon the next two floors and finally Simeon with the top two. Simeon was getting more worried the longer they didn’t find you. Finally Simeon remembered the first time he had missed home... You had been the one to find him and make him feel better by taking him to the roof of RAD.

It had been the day he had first realised how smitten he was with you, when you had sat him on the bench, his thin fingers intertwined with your. Your other hand had pointed to the sky and told him all about how he would soon be there among the stars safe at home. Despite Simeon having been too shocked and too tired to say anything you never let your smile waver and the genuine gleam of pure happiness is what had kept them going. Solomon that day bought noise cancelling headphones since Simeon had not shut up about you.

He arrives on the roof and is greeted with the same sight of you sitting on the bench but this was not the way he remembered. Your back was tense and you clenched your knees together. Your hands were fisted in your skirt though occasionally one would come to wipe at your cheeks, as you let soft gasps and sobs out. Your body shaking and shuddering with the lack of breath. Simeon had felt his heart break because as much as he wanted to give you space that you seemed like you had needed he couldn't in good conscious and genuine love leave you there.

His heart broke at both the sadness you felt and that you had not come to him. Finally when you noticed him you gasped and quickly try to pull yourself together looking for your bag with your ringing DDD that you had pushed away as you get up. Before you could say anything though Simeon had pulled your figure into his. One hand around your waist the other cradling your head into his neck.

“Shhhh my love... just let it all out... i am sorry I didnt come sooner. But i am here okay? Youll be fine”

In a situation like this his aim would be to get you to calm down enough to just breathe and maybe vent cause obviously something is overwhelming you. Here i don’t think there is a choice for space of no space because eventually even the others will find you and given Beel and Mammon would be there... there is no way you are leaving without saying whatsup.

Until that overwhelming process begins Simeon will just hold you and whisper reassurances into your hair. He’ll get you to sit on the bench once that happens and get some water into you, do some breathing exercises which I think because of Luke he has perfected. Once at that point you don’t get a chance to say sorry or hide before he is already stroking your cheek and telling you it’s fine.

He will be insistent that you tell him whats wrong though because this was too worrying for him to let it go and he also knows how avoidance can just lead to bad situations down the road.

He also makes a mental note to talk to you about communication and how its needed in a relationship especially when you’re from literally world apart.

When you tell him about the sunrises and sunsets you miss Simeon is completely understanding because he has been in that boat. He takes the rest of the evening to just remind you of how much love he has for you and just lets you soak up warmth and familiarity from everyone.

Even when the others arrive shouting Mammon he holds onto you. He takes a moment though to pull Satan and Solomon inside quickly discussing an idea to improve the situation and come up with a plan they later pitch to Diavolo.

The next week you get surprised by everyone as they all take you to your home city where you get to show them around. It’s the most excited they have seen you as you jump up and down taking them to so many spots, each one relevant and important for one member. The cute bookstore with hardcover books from 1800′s and old records for Satan and Lucifer, The best bakery for Luke and Beel, the anime cafe where the seats are bean bags for Levi and Belphie, the skin-care store for Asmo and finally the best places to see the sunrise, sunsets and the stars.

You had never felt lighter and happier as you showed your new family a better part of your past that as much as missed you couldn't deny felt better with these people in your life.

Not once did you let go of Simeon’s hand and even though he blushed most of the time he couldn't seem to let go of yours either. As much as he had gated seeing you in pain he had never been happier right now because he got to see this side of you and he could confidently say that he had never been more in love with anyone.

Overall loving, kind, and patient he knows how to help but you also have to be able to communicate with him. It was a convo he did finally have with you later but yeah all happy endings.

Wow can i write anything short?? The next is for the first four demon bros with the same situation!

Anyway i hope you enjoyed my writing guys. Let me know if you want any of these turned into fics and pretty please like and reblog and request stuff :)

Masterlist

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damienthepious · 3 years

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this upcoming week will be hell so in the meantime i hope y’all enjoy!!!! im. actually kinda happy with this one. wahhh

still need your teeth around my organs (chapter 9)

[ch 1] [ch 2] [ch 3] [ch 4] [ch 5] [ch 6] [ch 7] [ch 8] [ao3] [ch 10] [ch 11] [epilogue?]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien, Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla, Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Lord Arum, Sir Damien, Rilla

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Enemies to Lovers, Rivals to Lovers, Dueling, Sexual Tension, (because they’re IDIOTS), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Mutual Pining, mutual IDIOTS, canon typical Arum ignoring feelings, Polyamory, (eventually lmao), Polyamory Negotiations

Fic Summary: Damien won yesterday, Arum won today, and now all that’s left is to break the tie. The only issue, however, is that neither of them are willing to do so, not until they are both satisfied that they have fought fairly, and honorably, and one of them has truly won.

Chapter Summary: The inertia of his rival forces Lord Arum to pause, for a little while, and think about his position.

Chapter Notes: i have to work for the next seven days straight and i'm dying a little, but i'm actually kinda proud of this chapter? ahhh. i love you, i love the bouquet, i'm tired but full of love, etc etc etc, hmu on tumblr if you want any commentaries, my askbox is perpetually open 💕💘

"Check," Arum crows, grinning slyly as he takes his hand from the piece and leans away from the board. He has a reasonable handle, he thinks, on the mechanics of this little game, even if it is preoccupied with rules and roles and monarchy in an adorably human sort of way.

(It is their third game. During the first, he begrudgingly, suspiciously allows Damien to guide his own moves for the first half, though as soon as he starts insisting on playing for himself without coddling, the knight shrugs and ruthlessly pins his king in three more moves. Their second attempt is longer, as Damien surreptitiously teaches him some tricks, some tactics ("True strategy will come later," he claims, and Arum endeavors not to roll his eyes too terribly hard), explaining his own choices and talking through each of Arum's mistakes and more clever moves, and Arum scowls viciously in indignation but at least this time he can see that Damien is going to win a few moves before he truly does. He doesn't know enough to do anything about it, but at least he is not surprised. Their third game- it manages to be a very little more contentious.)

Damien frowns in concentration, leaning closer to scan his eyes intently over the board. He reaches, frowns harder, pulls his hand back and presses it over his mouth for a long moment, his attention flicking from piece to piece as he works through his potential moves.

"Tranquility, tranquility," he mutters into his palm. "What to do, Saint Damien? What should I..."

"If you need your Saint for help, I think perhaps you should simply admit defeat, little knight," Arum purrs, tilting his head as Damien proceeds to ignore him, the focus on his face utterly rapt. Which is admirable, Arum thinks. Interesting to learn that Damien's taut-bowstring focus applies to his interests outside of combat, as well.

Damien goes still, as he does at times during their duels, that held-breath poise that means he is just about to-

"Ah!" Damien reaches out, delicate fingers lifting one of his pieces and intercepting Arum's. "There," he says warmly, grinning.

Arum manages a half second of a frown before he reaches out again and makes his next move without hesitation, knocking Damien's queen out in return.

Damien blinks, stares at the board for a moment, and then he laughs even as his brow furrows in confusion. "Ah... Arum?"

"I know, honeysuckle. Go on."

Damien laughs again, still bemused, and then he lifts his hand out again, shifting his own position into-

"Checkmate, I believe."

"Indeed."

"You set me up for it, my dear rival," Damien says, tilting his head and squinting.

"You were going to win," Arum grumbles, and then he shrugs. "I only wanted to take your queen before you did."

Damien flushes oddly at that, and laughs a third time. "An... interesting strategy, Arum."

"Strategy will come later, as you said. This was not a success, no, but it was less of a failure than our last game."

Damien nods, grinning, and starts to reset the board.

"We are almost out of time," the poet sighs, and Arum freezes. Damien glances up at the shift, blinking, and then he clarifies. "It's closing towards the dawn, my dear rival," he says, a hint of regret beneath the words. "I know you cannot stay, of course. I doubt we have time for many more matches, tonight."

Arum glances towards the window, the thin grey encroaching at the edges of the curtain, and he buries a stab of disappointment. "You need your rest, regardless, little knight. If you ever mean to recover properly, that is. I am still not entirely convinced that your doctor will be pleased that I allowed you to stay up with me for so large a part of the night."

"I would have been awake either way," Damien says with a wry tilt of the lips. "She will thank you for keeping me occupied, I should think. Otherwise- my nerves, my circling thoughts, my restlessness might have pulled me to foolishness while she slept."

"Saints preserve you," Arum mutters sardonically, rolling his eyes again. "You ridiculous creature."

Amaryllis wakes joltingly when he raps his knuckles off the doorframe to her room, gasp-humming and then muddily claiming that she is awake, I'm awake, I'm- ugh, my head- as he hears her fumble around. He retreats to the other side of the kitchen before she can emerge, sleep-mussed hair and pursed lips and a rumpled wrap draped lazily around her form.

Arum raises an eyebrow as she squints across the room at him, visibly attempting alertness. "You look... rested," he says, vaguely mocking, though she does not seem to hear him.

"Coffee," she mutters, near to a growl, and then she aims her feet past him and towards her hearth and her cupboards.

Her motions are somewhat less precise and efficient, this time of morning. She still manages, reigniting the fire with lazy, practiced hands and a wide yawn, refilling the kettle and moving it to boil, and then she stretches catlike as she reaches into a higher cupboard to pull down a rattle-hissing jar.

"I should..." Arum grumbles, uncertain, as Amaryllis muddles through dosing out shiny dark beans into a mortar and pestle, and she spares him a blinking, pouting look. "He was up for a while after he took his- medicine," Arum admits with a shrug. "Stubborn thing."

She nods after a moment, as if that makes perfect sense, her hands working in a methodical grinding circle, the crunch and scrape of the pestle almost hypnotically steady. "Didn't try to get up?" she manages, ending on a yawn, and Arum shakes his head. "Hm. Good job, then."

"I should go," he tries again, managing the words properly, the tickle of danger at the back of his mind as her windows tinge slowly from gray towards blue. "It... obviously."

"If you gotta," she says with a drowsy shrug, and then she frowns as a few grounds skip out of the bowl in her hands.

Permission enough, Arum thinks, and then he feels a flash of irritation with himself. Permission? Ridiculous-

He presses his mouth shut tight against the rising growl in his throat, and he slinks towards the door as she groans through another long, deep yawn.

"Come back?" she says, and Arum-

Arum blinks, his chest oddly tight, and pulls his head back. "What?"

"Some other night. Whenever you want. To see him, or talk, or- if you're just bored, or whatever. You can come back."

Arum stares at her, his eyes narrowing, but she smiles sleepily and then straightens when she hears the kettle at her back begin to whistle, and she croons coffee in a dreamy sing-song breath to herself, forgetting Arum entirely.

Arum watches her for another moment or two, her vague humming oddly familiar and warm.

"I wouldn't get your hopes up," he lies, quietly, and as Amaryllis makes an inattentive noise over her shoulder, Arum slips out the door.

The next time, four days later, he comes only an hour or so after sunset. Amaryllis is slightly easier to bully to bed; he has the nagging feeling that she might not have slept terribly much in the interim. Damien, for his part, sleeps nearly the entirety of Arum's watch at his bedside (he is past the need for nighttime doses of his medications, apparently), only waking long enough to blink vaguely at him through the darkness, smile that strange, tranquil, dreamy little smile, breathe Arum's name, and then sink back to slumber.

He can't bear it, the softness on Damien's face as he sleeps. He slips from the room, after a while, confident that he would hear Damien stir with the door cracked open.

Too easy to feel restless, with both of them unconscious. And he cannot leave, either, while Sir Damien-

(he does not want to leave)

He pulls down the jar of coffee beans and the mortar and pestle from her cupboards, matching the way Amaryllis had dosed out the coffee and starting to work to grind them. It isn't a favor for the doctor, just-

(one less thing for her to worry about, in the morning)

It is just something to do with his hands as he browses through a thick, well-used pharmacopoeia left out on her table.

The entry for amaryllis - the flower, obviously - is quite close to the front. The only medical notes are relevant to the mildly poisonous effect it has on the human body, but- Arum laughs. The blank space on the page is filled with hand-written poems instead, obviously in Damien's elegant, looping hand, overflowing with doting affection.

He doesn't turn to the pages to check either of the flowers that share his name. There wouldn't be any point, anyway.

Arum leans back, rolling the pestle in a languid circle, the earth-rich scent filling the room and his snout, and-

He daydreams of blades like petals, stems like shafts of arrows, piercing the air to bloom.

He finally wins a game, feeling wild with his glee, and as Sir Damien laughs, unperturbed by his loss, Arum's tail swishes behind him with overabundant enthusiasm and-

Knocks over a stool behind him, clattering loudly to the wooden floor.

They both wince, and wince harder when Amaryllis clunks through the exam room door with sleep in the mess of her hair and worry in her night-dark eyes. Damien points wordlessly towards Arum and the stool, innocence and delight still on his face, and Arum scowls and ducks his head and feels absurd.

And Amaryllis laughs. And laughs harder, going breathless, the loose collar of her shirt shifting to show a distracting amount of her dark bare freckled shoulder as she leans on the door, and Arum tries to deepen his scowl despite himself even as Sir Damien starts to giggle helplessly along with his doctor.

Arum could still leap out the window to escape the both of these maddening little creatures, he thinks, and then he laughs as well.

The other knight knocks and enters in one booming motion as Arum sits and sips tea with Amaryllis, and the monster freezes dead-still.

"What-ho, Rilla!" the man cries, smiling so wide and toothy that his eyes squint shut, and Arum considers trying to hide somehow even as Amaryllis laughs with a clear note of panic. "A lovely good day and evening to you both and please is my best rival well enough yet for a visit?"

"Uh," Amaryllis says, precisely as still as Arum, like two statues carved beside her table. "Ah- Angelo, uh- I thought you said you were coming tomorrow?"

"I traded my shift with Sir Caroline so I could see my best rival all the sooner! A brilliant strategy I should say, for I miss him terribly much and I thought perhaps you could also use the company but I see now that you already have a guest and-"

He pauses, and Arum sinks lower in his seat, panicked beyond the ability to think.

(So stupid, says something distant in the back of his mind. It is supposed to be Sir Damien who slays him, not some ridiculous-)

"Er, Rilla," the oaf says, his voice taking on the quality of a whisper without lowering in volume at all. "There is a monster at your table, did you know?"

"Angelo," Amaryllis grits out, her expression tight. "This-"

"Oh!" he says suddenly, perking up. "Have I interrupted a kidnapping? No fear, Miss Rilla, I shall take care of the beast for you!"

"Don't fucking touch him," Amaryllis snarls, rising and leaping over the table in one quick motion to get in between them, and Arum-

Blinks.

The smart thing to do, he thinks, would have been to- to go along with the assumption. To feign a grapple, to use the herbalist as collateral to get out of the house, drop her safe at the tree line and disappear into the dark of night, but-

He stares up at her, glowering in the hearth-light, vicious like an animal guarding her den, and he-

Doesn't understand.

"This is Damien's rival," she says, her voice somewhat steadier, and the knight tilts his head and glances past her towards where Arum fidgets. "Other one. The one he has the duels with? This is Arum."

The knight furrows his brow deeply, his lips pursing in visibly difficult thought, and Arum slowly rises to stand as well, uncomfortable with everything about this, obviously, but even more uncomfortable being the only creature at floor-level while the humans loom.

"Oh," Angelo says, still sounding uncertain, and Amaryllis steps a little closer.

"He's just here to check in on Damien's recovery," she says smoothly. "Just like you."

Angelo considers that, and then his expression opens like sun through clouds, crystalline revelation as if he just figured it out for himself rather than having it spelled out.

"Of course!" he booms, and when Amaryllis and Arum both wince, glancing towards Damien's door, he repeats himself at a slightly less egregious volume. "Of course! A rival must ensure that his rival will fight at his best!"

"Right," Amaryllis says, audibly exasperated, and when the knight marches forward, Arum freezes again. "Angelo-"

"My apologies, my good monster!" the knight booms with a baffling grin, reaching his wide hand to clap Arum on the shoulder, shocking a noise out of him. "Never fear! Sir Angelo the Strong would not deprive his rival of his rival!"

Arum's head spins. He tries very hard not to cringe back or to pull his knives instinctively, or to snarl at the sudden amusement on Amaryllis' face.

"You aren't slaying me," Arum says blankly, his voice almost a separate creature from the rest of himself, and the knight laughs with hearty enthusiasm.

"Nonsense, my friend! Any rival of my rival's is a rival of mine!"

A pause.

"What?" Arum and Amaryllis say, in near-perfect unison, and then they share a look, Arum still stunned, Amaryllis shifting towards delight.

"You aren't going to- to try to fight me?" Arum continues dubiously, the idea of adopting another rival filling him with sheer exhaustion.

"Oh! Certainly not! I simply understand your arrangement with Sir Damien, and I would not like to interfere. Rivals make one another stronger, after all! And if that is what you and Sir Damien do for each other- that is wonderful!"

A noise from further into the hut. Arum snaps his head to the side as Damien's drowsy, questioning voice warbles out from his room, and Amaryllis sighs deeply, planting her hands on her hips and glowering at Sir Angelo.

"Sir Damien!" Angelo booms, and Arum winces again, stepping out of the way of Angelo's path to the door in case the bull of a man forgets not to bowl him over. Angelo pauses, though, for a half second, having just enough grace to look abashed as he checks Amaryllis' face as if for permission.

"Well," Amaryllis drawls, her nose wrinkling in an oddly charming way, "you woke him up! So, might as well. Go on in, then. Twenty minutes! I don't want you wearing him out. And no arm wrestling or I will drag you out of there by your ear I swear-"

"Yes ma'am!" Angelo barks obediently, grinning - somehow - harder before he turns and nods towards Arum. "An honor to meet you, my good monster! Now, if you will excuse me," he nods again, then spins on his heel and hups through the door to join Sir Damien.

Arum stares after him, his heart still thudding with alarm, and then he he hears Damien distantly give a joy-shock warble of a laugh, and his shoulders lower, just slightly. He looks towards Amaryllis, still glaring despite the smirk curling the corner of her lip, and when she meets his eye, she shakes her head.

"Told you," she says. "He's ridiculous. Loves Damien to absolute pieces, though, so... could be worse, I guess." She sighs, then raises her eyes and catches Arum in the dark of them for a moment. "Sticking around, still?" she asks, sounding hesitant for once. "Tea's getting cold, probably, but..."

Arum eyes the door, hears the edge of Damien's laughing, enthusiastic banter with his other rival, and nods.

He never visits more than once every three days. It is... too much. Too absurd. Too dangerous, and it isn't as if- it isn't as if Arum does not have anything better to do. He is busy, he has his entire swamp and his ridiculous Keep to manage, and besides that, his work is valuable and highly in demand, even if he is rather more picky about his contracts, these days.

(Nothing bloody. Not anymore. He is sick to death of blood, he is bored of violence, there is no cleverness in it at all, anyway, nothing remotely approaching skill or nuance or challenge, not like his newer, more defensive projects, his botanical experiments-)

He never visits more than that. He manages to wait six days, once, before the worry in his stomach curdles too thick to resist and he opens his duel-portal to slink through the jungle towards Amaryllis hut, still careful but- familiar enough, now, with this patch of wilderness, to know when it is safe.

He hears voices, when he lifts his hand to knock, not just Amaryllis humming, and he- pauses.

"He will," Amaryllis says, her voice clear and steady through the thin wood of the door. "He's not just going to disappear."

"How can you be so certain, my love?" Damien says, more muted, and something in Arum's stomach jumps. He knew, of course, that Damien has been well enough to spend some daytime hours outside of his little cot, but to hear him healthy enough to still be out in Amaryllis' kitchen with her-

He swallows. It is encouraging, that is all. He will be well again. He will be well again soon, and they-

"Because he cares about you, you moron."

Said with utter affection and utter exasperation. Perhaps Arum should not find it surprising, that she speaks to Damien that way as well.

"You don't know that," Damien whispers. "You can't know that for sure. Everything between us-"

"He keeps coming back. He keeps coming back, Damien. And you didn't see the way he looked at you when-" she goes breathless, laughing strangely. "Like he's looking at the fucking stars and he's afraid if he moves too fast they'll start falling. He lights up with it, and- fuck." Another laugh. "Yeah. No, yeah. I... I get it. I get the- his stupid face, his eyes. But- Saints, Damien, of course he cares about you."

Arum breathes, slow and strange, leaning closer to the door, his mind chugging uncertainly, wondering, worrying-

Who...?

"Perhaps," Damien says. "Perhaps. At times it feels- at times I can make myself believe that he feels... that he feels as I do, when he looks at me, when- but-" the noise of a shuddering gasp, "but what if I'm wrong? What if we both are? What if this is nothing to him but- nothing but violence-in-waiting, or- what if he does care, in some way, but not- not-"

"Damien."

"What if, Rilla, I try to reach my hand towards him in affection and he- he leaves-"

"Damien."

"I cannot lose this, I cannot lose him, lose what we already have between us! I cannot risk it for the sake of- of my own greed. Saint Damien grant me the Tranquility to leave alone what small joy I have carved out for myself in this chaotic, reordered world, to be still in my new place and not frighten him away in my desperate, heartsick longing-"

"Not doing anything might make you lose him anyway, Damien, and then he won't even know how you feel."

A pause.

"He looks at me... Rilla, the way he looks at me... as if he would devour me. His eyes- and I cannot even say, my love, if I mean the metaphor or the literal. Either way, I think- I think I would let him. I want him to."

Arum leans closer, uncertain, hypnotized by the lull of Sir Damien's voice, and-

The wood of the step creaks beneath his shifting weight.

The hush in the room shifts, dead-silent, and Arum stills as well.

After a moment, he hears Amaryllis huff a breath and thud to her feet and- he bolts, throwing himself from the steps in a way that manages - mercifully - to be quiet enough to likely escape human ears, and slips into the dark of the underbrush, curling down among Amaryllis' raspberries, thorns scraping ineffectually against his scales as he goes stone-still.

The door creaks open, uncertain, and Amaryllis peers into the dark, haloed warm from behind by firelight, and Arum can hear the distant murmur of Damien's voice questioning gently behind her. She stares out into the dark for another long moment, one hand on the door and the other fisted over her heart, and then she sighs.

"Nothing," she says gently. "Damn creaky wood again. Need to replace that step, but I can never find the-"

The door closes, cutting her off, and Arum sags with relief.

Arum waits in the dark for at least an hour to avoid suspicion. He could simply return tomorrow, of course, but-

Six days was a long time to wait, without Damien's soft, searching eyes. Without Amaryllis' knowing smirk. And he still hasn't managed to arrange their next duel, not with any certainty.

He watches the stars as he waits, the slow, unrelenting turn of them, the Universe dancing with itself above their small, fragile world.

When he knocks, Amaryllis pulls the door open with a glint in her eyes above her smile.

"You came back!" she says, chirping cheerful, and Arum catches Sir Damien's eyes for a moment, over her shoulder.

He drops his eyes, and rolls his shoulder in a loose shrug. "So I did."

[↣]

#commente commente commente commmmmmmennnnnte #elle's fanfic #second citadel #rad bouquet #lizard kissin' tuesday #lord arum #sir damien #amaryllis of exile #sir angelo #still need your teeth around my organs #oughghghhghg

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devildom-dedicated-daydreams · 4 years

Text

Afterstory (Diavolo)

Arc 3: The Cursed Witch Seduces the Wild Prince

@karmaaf @mac-the-oregonian @imagine-my-hero-and-vills @lady-naho @viptrash @cinnamon-bisquit xxnio-chanxx @pen-observing I wanna be friends with you, too <3

“Princess … ”

Diavolo cradled your body closer to him. Your warmth seeped out with each second. Stale blood dripped from your wounds.

Diavolo chuckled drily.

Those gentle hands that would pat his head, the calloused but lovely fingers that drove him crazy with each touch--he will never feel them again.

Chuckling became laughing.

His flames blazed brighter and pitch-black smoke rose from earth. Rising higher into the sky, Diavolo’s wings grew and stretched so far they covered the sun and engulfed the city in darkness. From his flames swung out a tail with scarlet scales. It swept across the buildings, killing hundreds and destroying everything.

“Beast!” The humans screamed. “The witch summoned a beast!”

“Witch?” Diavolo repeated.

His maniacal laugh thundered throughout the city.

“You killed her for that?” The woman he loved was a soul who would never use her magic selfishly. You never turned away a patient even when they disrespected you.

The red dragon tenderly gazed at the lifeless body in his hand.

The skin had lost its vigor, scratches covered your face, and the arms …

How long did you suffer? How much did you suffer?

If only … if only he stayed with her.

“Unholy beast!”

Diavolo’s thoughts were interrupted when the human soldiers started shooting arrows at him. One arrow flew past his claws and almost hit your corpse.

The red dragon roared into the sky.

The large city that once bustled with life was reduced to ashes in less than half a day.

Diavolo flew back to your home. When he found the squatters wearing your clothes and the kids trampling the flowers you adored, he almost sent them to the next life. But he sensed the mana that radiated from them. It was your mana.

“Take off the clothes that aren’t yours and leave behind what belongs in this house,” he ordered with glowing eyes.

There were a foolish few who disobeyed by pocketing a ruby Diavolo gifted. They were two kids, the ones who threw rocks at you--

Half their faces were melted off.

“A saint touched your souls so I won’t kill you,” Diavolo said. “But don’t test my patience.”

The refugees ran for the mountains and Diavolo was left alone.

“I’m here,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head. “I’m right here, princess, so come back soon … ”

Gabriel and Lilith arrived a few weeks later. They’ve only now just heard the news.

Shock didn’t begin to describe what they felt at the scene that welcomed them.

Your humble mud house was transformed into a wooden cottage. The tiny patch of soil you proudly called a garden was bigger, lining the side of the river with herbs and flowers and other plants.

Life seemed to overflow

Gabriel barged inside the cottage.

The crown prince of hell sat on the edge of a bed. He was wiping the feet of a corpse, his eyes full of mad love while telling a story about how big the pomegranates were.

“I promise I didn’t use any magic. When you wake up, let’s make some dessert with them--”

A fist flew and Diavolo landed on the ground.

“You crazy … ” Gabriel’s chest heaved. He didn’t even know where to begin.

Luckily, Lilith was there. She patted his shoulder before approaching the prince. “Cousin, this is wrong.”

Diavolo lifted his head, eyes empty before focusing on Lilith. He grinned mechanically. “Oh, I didn’t notice you coming in.”

The angels exchanged glances.

“Do you like the house? I built it myself.”

“Diavolo--”

“I was giving princess a bath, she’s so spoiled--”

“Diavolo,” Lilith cut him off. “Diavolo, MC is dead.”

“She’s sleeping, Lilith. She can’t be dead, she’s going to be the queen of hell. We promised we’d be together so there’s no way she’s dead.”

“Oy,” Gabriel stepped forward, glaring at the prince. “Stop running away from this, bastard. MC is dead. She’s gone.”

“Gone,” Diavolo repeated with a whisper.

Your soul was gone.

But that’s not possible. When you became one, he reinforced his seal so you would be bound to him forever. But your soul was gone. You weren’t just dead, your soul was gone. He couldn’t feel it anymore. Your soul vanished like a whisper in the wind.

Gone--

You were gone.

Diavolo clawed at his chest, cutting skin and drawing blood. His insides twisted. He buckled down and threw up.

“Right--” He croaked as angry fat, angry tears blurred his vision. He pulled on his hair. “She’s gone. She’s gone … Even Barbatos said her soul … she’s gone.”

“Do you think that’s true?” Lilith knelt down and looked straight into his eyes. “Diavolo, think again.”

“A soul is immortal. She may be lost,” Gabriel said. “But she’s not irretrievable. And when she comes back is this how you want to greet her?” He gestured at the ice-cold body.

Diavolo chuckled wearily. “What do you know?”

“I know that you didn’t deserve her--”

“Gabriel--” Lilith tried to calm him down again but he shrugged her off.

“--I know that she deserves more than a pathetic, sobbing mess who avoids responsibility.”

The demon prince couldn’t bring himself to retort. Gabriel was right, he was pathetic.

“I know this doesn’t sound much from an uncultured girl like me but … but I want to work together with you. I want to be a partner who can help you with your problems.”

Your words echoed in the back of his mind and Diavolo laughed again. With a tearful smile, he looked out the window and into the clear morning sky.

“You win, princess. You always win.”

Meanwhile, in a roofless room surrounded by stars and with walls that stretched so far you could not see the end, two men played a game of chess.

The one who held an ebony pawn sighed. It was King Drakul of Devildom.

His opponent, a man with greying hair crudely dyed purple at the tips, quirked an eyebrow. “Something wrong, old friend?”

“I was just thinking--it’s very hard being a father.”

“Oh.” His opponent nodded in agreement. “I feel ya. Lately, Lili has taken an interest in the human realm and Levi…the one with the bowl haircut keeps messing with the time warps. He’s already reading literature that shouldn’t be in existence yet.”

“First of all, their names are Lilith and Leviathan. Secondly, my case is different from yours. Diavolo--”

“It’s about time Diavolo fixes his behavior.”

“I suppose … ”

“Cheer up, Drakul. Our plan worked, or rather, it’s going to work. Ain’t that right, Barbatos?”

Barbatos appeared with a burst of green smoke. He refilled their teacups. “You are correct, Lord God.”

Drakul sighed again.

“Hey now, you can’t start regretting it now,” said Lord God. “I went AWOL for an extra five thousand years just for this moment.”

He disappeared for millenia, causing conflict among the angels, and then arrived in time to stop a full-scale war. Not to mention, he had to create a random body and puppeteer it from the sidelines while waiting for a Host.

“You can’t soften up now. Otherwise all that effort to educate Diavolo would have gone to waste. Think of those poor souls who failed and got sent to punishment worlds because of him, think of those humans he killed when he went feral the other day--think of how many loops Barbatos has gone through--and the beating Diavolo almost gave him!” Lord God dropped a sugar cube into his cup.

“I know, I know … But those 2430 souls are on you. You could easily have asked Barbatos who would be the successful Host.”

“You know I don’t roll like that. It’s boring to know everything—why do ya think I sealed away my powers?” Lord God added another sugar cube. “Ah, speaking of, what do you think of my newest recruit? The second genius I’ve encountered since I started this gig.”

“Hm, let’s see.” Drakul grabbed a flower-shaped cookie. “Sharp-witted, competent and ruthless. I say, they’d be an excellent queen.”

Lord God spat out his tea. “You can’t--cough--you can’t be serious.”

“You can't deny that there is a possibility." He turned to his butler. "Right, Barbatos?”

A mysterious look ghosted over Barbato's eyes, then he grinned subserviently. “It is as you say, sire.”

Author’s note:

If you know me from Tumblr then you already know that I have this headcanon: In the past Diavolo was a wild, rebellious blood knight but now he is desperate to maintain peace in the three realms because he fell in love with a human in the past and patiently waits for her reincarnation so he can welcome her as his queen. Also, he's only the crown prince in the Obey Me! storyline because he refuses to become king without his beloved.

Man, I know I poke fun at him for being a reckless idiot in the story, but damn.

And imagine all the crap he deals with for uniting the three realms--all that effort for a soul who didn’t even look back when she left. 🤧

(To have that kind of power on a man... Ate MC, paturo naman po. Charot lang. We must aspire to be good people haha)

Oh, and by the way--

I would like to clarify something since you guys keep making so many conspiracy theories.

Regarding the characters from the fictional worlds and the real world:

The Obey Me! Characters that manifest in the fictional worlds are treated as separate entities from those in the Real World. E.g. Lucifer from the CEO’s arc is different from the Lucifer in Diavolo’s arc/Real World, so if the same character appears twice, our MC will not compare their names, appearances, etc. Think of it as a perception filter. However, you can say that they are still connected because they are alternative selves of each other. So residual affections felt by CEO!Lucifer will be felt by Real World!Lucifer.

What was the third party interference at the end?

Unless the above story wasn't clear enough, the interference was Diavolo.

Will MC have a harem?

Who knows.

Hope that makes things clear :D

(And please keep up with the praise, this madam would sell her firstborn for more praises from you guys.)

Until the next arc, my dear readers!

#obey me #obey me swd #shall we date #diavolo #diavolo x mc #diavolo x reader #afterstory #lore #obey me backstory #headcanon #imagine #scenario #angst #angssst

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Know No Better

Streamer Gang & Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Platonic Fluff, HUMOR, Crack, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: A game of Among Us with this gang can never go without a halt for some spit-fire accusations and bickering, but throw their mutual friend Y/N in the mix and the chaos flares up twice as intensely.

Requested by my dear friend @thelittleplantlover Hi darling! Thank you so much for being such a loyal reader and never shying away from giving me your full honest feedback. You are an amazing person, a lovely friend and a mutual I’m glad I gained on my Tumblr journey. Love you with all my heart, Vy 💕

“Yo, sorry I’m....late“ Charlie’s eyebrow raises as soon as he enters the Discord call, almost half an hour after the scheduled time due to difficulties with his wi-fi connection. However, neither his presence nor his apology are acknowledged, seeing as how he wasn’t even heard over all the shouting going on in the call. “Um, what’s going on here?“ He asks no one in particular, aware that he probably won’t get an answer.

Surprisingly, though, someone does answer him - Sykkuno. “Hey Charlie, welcome. You missed a whole round and a whole debacle between...” The yelling voices give a clear idea of who this debacle is happening between: Rae, Corpse and Y/N. “Yeah, you can probably tell between who.”

“Yo, is that Y/N? Dude, I haven’t heard from you in so long where’ve you been?“ Charlie exclaims, eyebrows raising in delighted surprise, “What are you arguing about? Imma argue with you.“

“You don’t even know what we’re arguing about!“ Rae snaps, scaring the ever-loving daylight out of the newcomer that all but shrinks a bit in his seat, “These are matters the three of us have to deal with!“

You see, Charlie’s not one to press his luck - definitely not when the sweetheart Rae lashes out like that, reminding him that the impossible can be possible if you’re a strong enough believer - but right now, seeing as how he isn’t playing yet, he’s thirsty for some amusement even if it comes with the price of being verbally beat and battered by the currently bickering trio.

“God bless the day you three actually manage to deal with something by yourselves.“ He snickers, half-hoping Rae wouldn’t hear him. Actually, it’s more one third hoping she wouldn’t the other two suggesting otherwise. Adding gasoline to the fire - it’s basically in his resume at this point.

The reply he receives is not even oriented around his statement and it doesn’t come from Rae - whether that be a blessing or a curse - but rather from Y/N. “Charlie, help! Corpse and I are being wrongfully accused over here!“

“There’s nothing wrong about my accusations! I heard you bribing Corpse into vouching for you, you impostor!“ Rae spits out the word as though this argument is a real deal and not just them throwing a collective tantrum as they usually tend to do.

“He asked me for immunity in exchange for keeping his mouth shut! I never offered it to him!“ Y/N argues back, “Not my fault he’s a corrupt crewmate!“

“You were about to accept the offer though! Who does that?!“ Rae’s not giving up her ground either.

“Anyone! All of you know you would’ve accepted the offer had you been the one to be proposed it!“ Y/N whines, reminding themself and everyone else that they are not a very argumentative or confrontational. The only time they can be caught butting heads with people is as a joke, among this very group of people and over something as small as a bribery in Among Us. “And why is no one going off at Corpse for this? Why am I the villain here? Um, hello?! I’m an impostor, I’m supposed to be evil. One of your own betrayed you, and I’M your biggest problem?!”

“I’d like it if you didn’t get me involved...“ Corpse inquires shyly, as though fearing he too is in for an outburst from Rae if he dares oppose hers and Y/N’s statements.

Unfortunately for him, he’s attacked by their joined forces with a: “YOU STARTED THIS!” Shouted at him in unison. Just like Charlie, he too shrinks in his seat.

“Hey Toast.“ Charlie nudges one of his friends, one he hasn’t heard from for the entirety of his short time in the Discord call, “You there?“

“Sup man?“ Toast answers, unmuting his mic for the first time after approximately ten minutes of silence on his end due to this heated debate going on.

“Ten bucks says this goes on for another ten minutes.“ Charlie says nonchalantly, already planning the cheap dinner he’s gonna order with those ten bucks.

“Nah man, fifteen for fifteen minutes. These two have no chill.“ Toast says, taking a sip of his soda.

“You’re both wrong.“ Sykkuno interferes, “I’m putting in twenty for twenty and I’m starting a timer.“

“WHAT?!“

The three men sit there paralyzed now that the two sides of the battlefield have temporarily united once again to end them. Lord knows when Y/N and Rae unite, nothing good is in store for those who they’re up against.

“N-nothing...I was just announcing that...“ Charlie starts off, strategically reaching for the plug for his router, “...my wi-fi’s gonna disconnect in three, two...“

“DON’T YOU DARE!“

And WHOOP he’s gone. And so are Toast, Sykkuno and Corpse.

“I really can’t believe them sometimes.“ Rae grumbles under her breath finding the miserable number of remaining players once again gathered in the cafeteria after no one got voted out despite everyone knowing it’s Y/N.

“And here I thought Charlie would back me up.“ Y/N sighs disappointedly, shooting a brief look at their chat, “Hell if I ever trust him again.“

“Look at the bright side though!“ their friend, moments ago opponent, hurries to comfort them as though their argument never happened. Technically, it really didn’t. “He’s at least not gonna get those ten bucks he sounded so confident in getting.“

Knowing Charlie, losing a bet will most likely leave him feeling torn, but hey, much to his comfort, he was the closest in guessing the duration of the arguing. You win some and you lose some, this time he’s done neither. But he will get an earful from Y/N at the first given chance they get, which he’s grown used to over the years, being the one knowing them the longest. What he’s still trying to get used to is how much they’ve clicked with his friend group. Never did he imagine his socially awkward and shy friend would steal all his friends and literally wrap them around their little finger. Truth be told, amazement aside, he’s quite proud of them for it.

Yes, of course he’s gonna try bringing this up when they open fire on him as an attempt to calm them down. Yes, he knows it probably won’t work. But also: yes, he knows what will. Cause that’s what best friends do - they know. However, they should also know better than to bet on their friends.

But come on, it’s Charlie and Y/N we’re talking about over here - neither of them know any better. Hell, no one in this gang knows better. That’s what makes them so uniquely and wonderfully chaotic.

@maat-the-prescriptive @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @itsminniekat @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat @idontknowwhatthisisfam @evi-ka @classyandfabulous00 @redperson58 @lilysdaydreams @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite @axen-gers @luckygirl144 @nj01 @buddyemily @the-albino-lioness @stardream14 @gdhdkfnn @nomadicgypsyy @preciousskye @fluffysuicideunicornsworld @o-kaelin @manacharlotte @awkward-youtube-trash @lolalee24 @bonky-beerns @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @strawbrinkofdeath @teenloves @tams0527 @browneyespinkhair @starstruckllamapuppy @daisychains012 @y0ulooked @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life @jula-pauline @melodykitty @just-that-bi-girl @crazybutconfidentaf @lowellshade @alphakees @bellero @weallneednamjesus @starryhanji @boiled-onionrings @husherstan @fockingwhore @melaningoddessthings @prettypastelpetals @haleypearce @godwhyamiawkward @y-napotat @daisychainyoonmin @little-miss-rebel3 @free-wheelin-bi-sexual @redmoon261 @darkacademic2 @wiseflamingoqueen @into-the-end @namikhai-i @nastiablr @thelittleplantlover @mirktuan @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny @vintagegothlover @easygoingtheatre @itsrandombooklover @miiaivi @emmybaybee @befourgolden @jjk-is-my-shit @eternalteaaars @spacebadgerx @princesslunalight @acequinn14 @samm48 @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa @fo-love @marishimomura-blog @therealglenncoco @cinnamonbun332 @killtherandomness @sanshinexxxsan @fee-btheweeb @press-lay @cathleenpotgieter16 @jazzydoesstuff @moonlxghtbay @forestrain2000 @hyunjinhugs @blood-of-fandoms @lovellylies @ukiyolixx @simpforhpcharacters @chrisdylan17 @parkerjisung @pedernille @theodonyous @wineandionysus @malfoystilinskii05 @morbid-x @coryisagee @jessewa26 @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365 @raeanneinwonderland @indecisive-empanada @gluttonypalace @loriane2503 @btsiguess-kpop @khaoticbunny @lucidlycactus @smiithys @rottenroyalebooks @kpopgirlbtssvt @fangirl-tc27 @fr0z3n-1 @notmesimpingfortechno @shotarosleftpinky @kunoi-chan @idk-whats-wrong-with-me @yikeroonie @goldenstarofthunderclan @poetry-and-tea @ama-do-writing-stuff @wishbonewolf @emeraldxhope @t0xick1tty @kusuinko @speakyourselfloveyourself @sophia902103 @lo-manburg @classsykittykat @dmgama @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee @btsiguess-kpop @akaashi-baby @gun-jong-simp @geschichtenfee @yerapotato-wp @browneyedgirl365 @thysagclub @sparklycloudnight @helloatomicshadow @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal @lucy-bunny17 @aaliyahh0 @katluckybear @boyleanti @straybids @franchesca-791 @cosmicstorm19 @averyisbackinthetrashcan @aomi-nabi @xlanawriter @allensimpsforcorpse

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aspenflower17 · 4 years

Text

Finding You (Part Fifteen of ??)

Goodness gracious, I’m back, and excited to be here. I just had the weirdest two weeks, so I apologize about not updating last week. Luckily, I just stayed home today and was able to write most of this chapter. Here is a link for anyone who’s new and wants to start over at the beginning: Part One.

A couple notes: I totally forgot I wanted to add a dream sequence to part fourteen, so I added it first thing in this update. It is a rewrite of part of Satan’s “The Search of Self” Devilgram so there might be some spoilers. I also missed you all so much! Honestly, I’ve been feeling kinda down lately and haven’t even had much motivation to play Obey Me (or do much of anything), so being able to hang out on Tumblr today and see all the posts has helped me get some of my inspiration back! I also bought a Chromebook and I'm still getting used to it. If the formatting goes weird, please let me know so I can fix it.

Tags for the beauties: @simpingforsatan @naimena @hachimochi @wrathandgreed @magi-minminxiii @rensphilia @a-dream-at-night @chloelikesobeyme @getbehindme-satan @theuglypugling @oofthelazyweeb @mammonismyfirstman

Word Count: 3293

Warnings: Possible spoilers for the first season (though I think I’ve had some before so...), spoilers for Satan’s “The Search for Self” Devilgram story (it’s not the full story and I added a lot)

Mc followed Satan to a fairly large building. Satan, still so weird to say, had asked her if she wanted to go around the Devildom with him. The letters above the door were illegible, seeing as how the Devildom had their own language and alphabet, but she instantly knew where they were when they walked in, “You took me to an art gallery?!”

“Oh, seems like I made a good choice,” Satan looked a tad shocked, but then smiled, “I like to come here to get away from stuff and clear my head.”

“So, are these like human art galleries?” Mc asked.

“I think so? Naturally, they have older, historically significant paintings, but they also exhibit pieces created by young, up-and-coming artists. And they’re always holding interesting events. It’s a lot of fun… Are you interested in art, Mc?”

“Yeah, I am,” Mc answered.

“Ah, is that so? I’ve got a feeling you and I might get along, then. I really love art.”

Mc felt her heart thill at his words. She’d been interested in the blonde fourth-born the second she’d seen him, and her interest seemed to be well founded.

Satan continued on about why he loved art, and though there was brand new art for her to look at, all she could do was hang watch Satan and hang onto his every word. He wasn’t saying anything she herself didn’t think, but just being here with him was giving her butterflies.

“... If you’re nervous about coming here alone, then say the word, and I’ll join you anytime.”

“Ah, that’s so nice of you. Now that I know this place exists, I’m definitely going to need to visit often.”

“You’re really excited about this, aren’t you?” he was watching her, eyebrow quirked, but with a soft smile.

“Of course! Not only do I have a whole new history to learn about, but there’s even new art!”

Satan chuckled, “Well, I’m glad you’re actually interested in art. It really is important not to focus only on your outward appearance like Asmo, because the person you are on the inside has a way of showing through on the outside as well.”

“I agree. Too many people’s beauty is only skin deep.”

“Exactly. Incidentally, it looks like they’re having a contemporary art exhibit here today. Shall we go check it out?”

“Definitely. I hope demon modern art is better than, “Four Blue Squares on Canvas”.”

“Wait… Really?”

“Yup. It’s a real art piece I saw in my University’s art museum.”

“So, was it really…”

“Just four blue squares on a white canvas, all equidistant from each other.”

Satan blinked a couple times, “Well, I hope ours is better too.”

They entered an exhibit space. Mc found herself a little disappointed, as she saw some of the same stange, abstract, postmodern art she would’ve seen at a human art gallery. Satan noticed the change and hurried to explain, “This is the human art wing. Many of the “lost” art pieces you’ve heard about can be found in collections here in the Devildom or in some of our galleries. This gallery is curated by Lord Diavolo, as advised by Barabatos, Lucifer and myself. Right now I believe this collection was put together by Lucifer.”

“Ah. That makes sense,” Mc stated, lips pursed as she looked around, making Satan laugh.

The duo continued through the gallery, Mc stopping every-so-often to examine a piece that caught her eye. Satan knew the artist’s name and the medium of almost every piece, though there were a few that were new to him too.

“Check out this work here. The use of color is so novel, so original. It’s very eye catching.”

Mc leaned down to read the museum label, “You know, that reddish color really reminds me of… Oh…”

“Human blood? Yeah, I thought as much. Though the smell had been dampened, probably diluted with water, it’s still unmistakable,” Satan answered absentmindedly. Finally seeing Mc’s discomfort, he quickly tried to backpedal, “I’m sorry. I forgot human noses aren’t as... sensitive as demons. This artist makes pieces that stimulate multiple senses. She’s an acquaintance of mine. This piece in particular incorporates the blood of… Seven distinct creatures, demons included.”

“Oh… Which one is the demon blood?”

“The black. If I’m not mistaken, she used her own blood for this piece,” Mc nodded, the art more macabre than she’d originally thought, “Well, there’s a lot more to see than just this. Let’s see, what’s over here in this space?” They walked through an archway into a room that held a huge installation. A lot of strange items filled the room, some on pedestals, or the ground, while others hung from near translucent strings from the ceiling. The lighting in the room was generally low, specific spotlights or illumination obviously very strategically placed. A low glow on the floor marked a pathway that allowed the viewer to wander around the room.

“Wow! Now this is very interesting,” Satan breathed, eyes glittering, “See? Check it out. At first glance it looks like a bunch of random stuff scattered all over the place, doesn’t it? But actually, every piece of rope, string and crumpled paper has been arranged very meticulously. It actually depicts a war between a dragon and an army of angels. If you want proof, look at it from the side. It looks as if the dragon is over powering the army. Buuuut,” Satan continued excitedly rushing over to the other side of the room, “When you look from this other angel here, it seems the angels have the upper hand.”

“Interesting, because, from where I’m standing, I can see Earth.”

“Wait, really?” Satan moved to where Mc was and bent down so he could view it from her height, “Would you look at that. I don’t think I ever would’ve seen that. How interesting… Very nice find,” he complimented, his smile, words and proximity making Mc’s cheeks heat up.

They spent some more time in the room, though they didn’t find any other secrets. They both vowed to come back however to search some more. They then spent more time in the gallery before Satan suggested they head out to get some refreshments at a new cafe in the Devildom.

“Thank you for that Satan,” Mc grinned, “That was some much needed mental refreshment.”

“No, thank you Mc. It can be difficult to get any of my brothers to spend time with me in a manner that I enjoy, and even harder still for them not to annoy me in the process, so I usually end up going around on my own. It was invigorating having someone with me who also appreciates art,” He grinned at her again, making her heart flutter. She could definitely get used to spending time with the Avatar of Wrath.

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

Mc blinked awake. That was the second dream she’d had that seemed more than just a dream. She could still remember the first in clear detail, though her dreams usually started fading once she woke up. The only other time she’d experienced something like this was her memory of being a Wanderer. But… This couldn’t possibly be like that. That was a memory, and these were just the result of finally being able to talk to and spend time with the demon she’d admired for so long… Right? She shook her head, the large questions the dreams brought up already giving her a headache. She grabbed her DDD blinking at the light it gave off. After her eyes adjusted she saw a new message alert. Opening it she smiled. Seems like he'd finally opened up her letter

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

“Dude, just read it.”

“Easy for you to say.”

Belphie sighed and got up, grabbing the letter off of the kitchen counter.

“What are you doing?” Satan asked.

“Well, if you’re not going to open it, I will. I can’t believe you didn’t read and respond to it that night. Honestly, you’re one of the most powerful demons in the Devildom and you can’t even-” he was cut off by Satan grabbing the letter from him, the seal already halfway broken.

“I will open it myself, thank you.”

“Then do it,” Belphie said, unaffected by Satan’s anger.

Satan narrowed his eyes, and turned back to the letter in his hands. Logically, he understood why he was nervous, and usually knowing the why behind a feeling would help him get it under control, but that had never worked with any feelings toward Mc. He had hoped this time around would be different, and he was almost more nervous than before. There seemed to be so much more riding on her returned affection than before. Cautiously, he broke the rest of the seal on the envelope, and pulled the letter out/

Dear Satan,

I would love to get coffee with you sometime! If I can be even half as engaging as last time, I’ll consider it a job well done. To help us plan that and talk more easily in the future, I included my number ;) Once you text me, I have a secret to share with you.

Satan blinked a couple times. He turned the letter over to see if she’d written anything on the back. No such luck. Was that really all she’d written?

“Forever the tease I see.”

“... Did you just read that over my shoulder?”

“Well, when you delay as much as you did, and then have that kind of reaction, who wouldn’t? Anyway, you should text her.”

“I… Yes, you’re right. I definitely should,” Satan said grabbing his DDD. He opened the messaging app, typed in her number and… just sat there.

“You good?”

“Hmmm? Oh, yeah. I’m just not sure how to start the-”

He was cut off by Belphie grabbing his DDD, typing something, and then tossing it back to him, “There you go. I’m going to go sleep now. It’s way past my bedtime.”

“Wait, what did you even-”

“Night,” Belphie called from the doorway before walking out.

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

Satan was reading when his DDD meowed that he had a message. He almost threw the book he was reading into the air as he lunged for his DDD which was on the table next to him. He didn’t even have time to be embarrassed at his over-the-top-reaction.

Satan: A secret?

Mc: Yes :D

My name is not Jane Doe, though

I’m sure you’ve already

surmised that much

Satan: I thought as much, though it really isan ingenious alias.

Mc: Thank you! I thought so too

Satan: So… Do I get to know what you’re

real name is?

Mc: Hmmm… What if I want to go get

that coffee with you before

I divulge that information?

Satan: We’ll just have to go get that coffee then.

Mc:

When?

Satan: Whenever you’d like. I am free today.

Only if you want though.

Mc: Okay! Shall we say… 16:00?

Satan: As long as there’s no last minute RAD Student Council meetings called, that should be perfect

Mc: Well, if there is, I’ll just have to come

tell everyone you already made plans.

I’ve been meaning to visit RAD anyway.

Satan:

Oh how I’d love to see Lucifer’s reaction

to that.

Mc:

Satan: Wait… Shouldn’t you be asleep right now?

It’s rather late.

Mc: I was asleep, but…

Satan: Bad dream?

Mc: No actually. Quite the opposite.

I just can’t stop thinking now.

Satan: Ah. I understand that.

Anything I can do to help?

Mc: Would you talk to me a bit longer? Maybe tell me about thelatest book you’ve been reading?

Satan: Of course.

Though he wished Mc would talk to him about what was bothering her, he figured this was probably the better option. They hadn’t met many times, and prying might upset her. So, he simply started telling her the basic plot of the new novel he’d picked up. Eventually, she stopped responding, and the messages stopped being shown as read. Satan smiled at that, texted her good night, and snuggled down into bed himself.

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

“I’m sorry!” Mc’s voice brought Satan out of the book of poetry he’d been reading, “Not only did I fall asleep while texting you last night, but then I was late today and I set the meetup time? Ugh, I feel so bad and I’m so sorry!”

“You’re alright,” Satan smiled, not wanting to acknowledge how much anxiety had been eased up by her appearing.

“I woke up late, and I dropped my DDD bad enough that we have to get a new one all together, and then Michael was asking me about native Devildom fabrics and if he should get a new outfit made in one… It’s just been a day so far.”

“Like, I said, it’s all okay. I’m sure you would’ve messaged me if you could.”

“I would’ve. I still feel bad… But thank you for being okay with it,” the look of anxiety to joy that she gave him made every second he’d spent waiting worth it.

“O-Of course,” he got out.

“So, what were you reading?”

“A collection of Arabic love poems.”

“Ah, “... When I love, / I become liquid light,” and “... If the devil was to ever see you, he’d kiss your eyes and repent,” Mc sighed, resting her chin on her hand. Then, as if remembering her current company and current residence, she shot up, “Sorry! I just really love that line.”

Satan laughed, and then said a quote of his own, “My lips and fingers were pens on her flesh. / I memorized her in every alphabet and memorized my memories until they multiplied…”

“I look at you and I dream of snow, I look at you and I await autumn…”

“My temptations in your eyes, And the cities of your grief,” Satan quoted just then realizing they were both leaning in towards each other. He leaned back a bit abruptly and cleared his throat, “Anyway, I really enjoy Adonis’ work.”

“Me too,” Mc answered, leaning back as well. Fortunately, a waiter came up to them to take their order, helping resolve the awkward air his sudden retreat had created. He tried to collect his thoughts as she ordered. He could only think of one thing to talk about though.

“So… Your name is not Jane Doe.”

“Nope.”

“So... What is it?” Didn’t they have this conversation last night?

Mc looked disappointed for a second, but then she was back to normal, “It’s Mc.”

“Really? That’s a lovely name.”

She looked up, eyes measuring him, “You think so?”

“Of course! It suits you really well,” Satan said.

“Well, there’s actually an interesting story behind that. Usually when an angel becomes an angel, they receive a new name. Back in the past, they used to allow them the choice between their new name and their old one. This resulted in too many angels remembering their human life, so they stopped allowing it. I’m the first angel in quite some time to keep the same name as I had in life.”

“Really?”

“Yup. Apparently Sim and Luke were insistent on it. Luke didn’t have a ton of clout upstairs at the time, but Sim does. I promised I wouldn’t question them too much about my human life.”

“They were huh? That’s interesting…”

“Why?”

“Oh, uhhh… Just general curiosity. I’ve been trying to pin down what kind of person Simeon is since the first exchange program,” Satan scrambled, actually managing to sound convincing.

Mc just hesitated and then nodded, not keeping eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry. I’m just nervous that I’ll make a fool of myself and ruin this time like I have the other times we’ve talked,” Satan confessed in Latin, his brain still on the last language he had been reading. Saying the things that had been bothering him started when he became more comfortable around Mc the first time around. He found saying the things on his mind out loud usually released much of his nervous energy, helped him understand what and how he was feeling without doing things to make Mc uncomfortable, even if she hadn’t understood most of what he’d said. It had become something they had shared, causing her to work hard to learn other languages so she could catch the little embarrassing things he said.

Mc gave him a look before replying, “Well, you didn’t mess up last time.”

“Well, I-” Satan cut off when his brain caught up to his mouth. She had just responded. In perfect Latin. His brain flipped back to their discussion on Arabic poetry and he realized she had been quoting that in Arabic too, “I hadn’t realized… Of course you speak other languages.”

“I have to read it in its original tongue. Translations generally don’t do the original justice,” Satan was still trying to think of an appropriate response when Mc spoke again, “Question though: Why did you say that in Arabic?”

“I… I fell into that habit awhile ago.”

“I thought a lot of demons knew different languages.”

“Well, I don’t do this around other demons. I don’t care what most of them think of me…” Satan cut off as the waiter came back with their drinks.

Mc sat in thought for a second before realization dawned on her, “Oh, was it because of…” her face fell before she could continue her thought.

“Hmmm? Did you say something?”

“No, just a stray thought that slipped out.”

“Hmmm… Well, do you want to tell me more about yourself?”

“Only if you tell me more about yourself.”

“Sounds fair to me. We can trade off asking questions.”

“Okay,” Mc seemed very excited by the prospect, and Satan found it infectious. The questions were a bit stilted at first, but they slowly fell into a comfortable space. Though the answers Mc gave, it seemed she was the same person essentially, but a lot more educated, even more opinionated, and with a different upbringing. He found the fact her personality had remained intact very interesting as well as relieving. He found the fact she was now an angel not as terrible as he thought it’d be. Sure, she spoke about saving souls and bringing people to the light, but with what she’d done for him and his brothers, it seemed a perfect fit. He’d always known she was a really good person. At times it had almost made him try to give up on their relationship, not wanting to corrupt her, but also feeling it in his very nature too. Now however, he didn’t necessarily feel that for her. She was an angel and it took a lot to corrupt an angel. He didn’t feel any animosity towards her and found her to be a lot like Simeon in her regard to demons. He found himself thanking Simeon for keeping her intact. If they couldn’t give her back to me, this is probably the next best thing.

They were both surprised when Mc’s DDD rang, a call from Luke asking if she’d be back in time for dinner. While she was on the phone, Satan received a similar call from an annoyed Beel telling him it was time to come home. Lucifer wouldn’t let him eat until he’d gotten home. They both got off the phone at the same time.

“I… actually have to go. I hadn’t realized how late it’s gotten.”

“I didn’t either. I have to go as well. There’s a hungry Avatar of Gluttony at home and a stupid Avatar of Pride that won’t let him eat until I get back.”

“Well, I really had a good time tonight. We should do this again sometime.”

“I agree,” Satan smiled, “Today was amazing.”

Mc smiled and blushed a bit, “I’ll text you later then?”

“Definitely. Bye!”

Mc waved cutely and then started running off in the direction of the castle. Satan watched her until she was out of sight, smiling softly the whole time.

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

So, yeah. Arabic love poems make me live. I apologize if the translations are weird. I literally found them on a twitter post someone had posted on Tumblr. Here’s the link: https://twitter.com/rosewatwr/status/1292487129793208320?lang=en

Can we also take a moment to talk about how absurd it is that Satan, of all people, was having trouble eating properly with a knife and fork?! Are you kidding me?

Part Sixteen

#obey me #obey me!#obey me satan #obey me! swd #obey me belphie #aspenflower17 #finding you #obey me fluff #obey me angst #obey me mc #obey me satan/mc #obey me satan x mc #obey me long fic #obey me swd #can you guys believe it's part 15?!#also #there was a part I was going to add on that was pretty angsty and Read My Heart came on shuffle when I was writing it

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itstittycitybaby · 4 years

Text

From the Ashes We are Born (Part 5)

a/n: take fucking two of posting this bc tumblr likes to fuck me over djdjjdjd. something that always bothered me with evey is the fact she left V?? I get not wanting to be stuck with a stranger for an entire year but you were the one who maced the cop. you decided to do it not v. he did not ask u to. now v torturing her there's not rlly a jusitifed excuse even though i can see why but it's still not justified either way. anyways as always enjoy.

Summary: V is away tending to his daily anarchist duties, which leaves you facing the wake of a treacherous thunder storm alone! Fluff ensues.

a/n 2: oh my god. i finally got the fucking gifs to work. had to navigate back and forth i stg I'm gonna dethrone the Tumblr god.

The music from your phone played throughout the deafening silence of the gallery. The infamously known masked criminal had left the gallery to commit his “righteous duties”. That’s how your friend, V, put it anyways. London was weeping over its people, at least, that’s what V had said once he heard the rain slapping the roof. Why can’t he just say it’s pouring, you thought to yourself as V fluttered about the house. “Dramatic as always V,” you snickered as you stood there watching him preparing to leave. You had been staying in the Shadow Gallery for a few months now. You weren’t very stoked to having to stay here for a year, but you had to. After all, you had sealed your fate after macing that cop. Even though you were upset about having to be stuck here away from your paints and gaming consoles, you understood. It was your decision to save him, he hadn’t asked you too.

V’s underground home was deadly quiet as he got ready. The playful aura and laughter was now gone. It felt lonely and cold, something you guessed V had felt before you arrived. “Hey V,” you asked, fidgeting with the flowy skirt you wore. “Yes?” The man in question picked up his notorious black hat and put it on top of his head. He smoothed his hair and turned to you after looking in the mirror once more. “C-can I,” you started, cheeks flushing a bright pink, “Can I have a hug?” You felt awkward as you stood there playing with your skirt. V didn’t say anything as he stared at you. The smiling mask was unsettling to look at with the awkward air and embarrassment you felt. “Y-y'know what, forget I asked,” you stammered, starting to turn before throwing a “good luck and goodbye” kinda thing. You heard him sigh. V wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close to his chest. The scent of lemon and the smell of pine made you hum. Your arms snaked around his middle as you stood there, together in front of the T.V. You were thankful V couldn’t see your beet red face. His mask rested atop your head and you shivered at the rumble of his chest as he spoke. “Forgive me, I was taken aback is all.” You pulled away a bit looking at the eyes of his mask. “It’s alright, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” “Nonsense my dear, you have yet to do so.” Oh we definitely have a crush. You pulled away giving him a smile. “Be safe okay V? I mean it. If you come home almost dead on the porch again, so help me, your bullet wounds won’t be the thing killing you.” V laughed, the sound of it making your heart giddy. “Of course, mademoiselle.” The tension between the two you was thick, neither of you breaking eye contact. Feeling bold, you grasped V’s shoulder with your hand and stood on your tippy toes. “D-dove-,” he started. You interrupted him, though. Your soft lips placed themselves on the cheek of his mask. “A good luck charm,” you said softly as you pulled away. Giving V’s shoulder one last squeeze, you let him go. “I shall return soon,” V said as he left. You scolded him again about being reckless, and to be safe . Your heart sank as V’s echoing footsteps faded away leaving you standing alone and cold.

“ I love you baby , and if it’s quite alright I need you baby,” you sang as you grabbed the acrylic paint V had gotten for you. The clock read 1:54 on the wall while the rain continued to pour outside into the night. V had yet to return from doing god knows what in the streets. The smears of white and red paint were splattered across your arms and thighs. The scent of paint and V’s musky smell mixed together as you painted. Your arms and body tingled from the warm embrace he had given you. Thoughts of V took over as your paint brush made graceful strokes on the canvas. Did he even like you back? “As if,” you huffed. “He’s a man with taste.” But what about the pet names? And the flowers! He brings us flowers once he comes back. “He’s british, being called love and darling is something normal here. The flowers don’t mean anything. It’s not like an obvious red rose or anything,” you told yourself. Stop daydreaming and just accept the fact that V doesn’t like you like in that way.

4:33 . “Where the hell is he,” you muttered. The rain continued to pour outside. Your canvas was set drying on the table and you flipped through your phone to entertain yourself. Thank god for a VPN. You laughed at a funny meme as you scrolled through your feed. The lights flickered. You sucked in a breath and waited. CRASH! You jumped at the loud bang of thunder. Trying to calm yourself down, you continued to scroll through Twitter. The anxiety in your stomach wouldn’t stop eating away. V was out there in this godforsaken storm. What if he got hurt? What if he died? “Stop,” you told yourself sternly. “He’ll be fine.”

Pop! Darkness embraced you as you sat there. The lights are out. Your breaths became shallow; the dim white light of your phone providing some kind of light source. “Calm down,” you whispered. “We’re gonna be fine.” Turning on your phone’s flashlight and using it as a torch, you crept to the bedroom. Loud crashes and noises made your hair stand up on end. Loud noises meant trouble. Loud noises meant a tantrum from your dad had started or something was here, waiting . Silence meant peace. Silence meant safety.

There was some sense of relief as you made it to the room and closed the door. Diving under the blankets, you whimpered as lightning struck. You curled into yourself and laid there. Hoping that the storm would pass, or V would come home. His scent on the sheets was the only solace you had. He will come home, eventually. You wished for V’s arms to hold and comfort you like the very few times he did before. Usually after a panic attack or when you were at the lowest of your lows. You wanted him to finish reading Lord of the Rings to you and help lull you to sleep. But V wasn’t here. V wasn’t going to hold you, or read you to sleep. He was out saving the country he so loved from it’s awful dictator. You’re weak. V wouldn’t want someone weak. He wants someone brave, and courageous. Someone who’s willing to die for what they love.

A sob bubbled up in your throat and tears threatened to escape from your eyes. You couldn’t breathe; you felt suffocated under the sheets, but if you moved you’d be open, vulnerable. Vulnerability is a weakness, being sad and scared is a weakness. How disgusting you must have looked. Hiding like a small child from the scary monster in their closet. How disgusted would V be if he found you here, under his sheets that were now wet with tears. We need to calm down. We need to stop crying. How pathetic we must look right now. He should’ve left you in that station to die. You deserve to die, you deserve to- .

“Love?” V’s voice broke your thoughts. He sounded so soft and gentle. You cursed at yourself for not noticing the door opening. Now he was going to see how pathetic you really were. V’s black boots slid across the floor when he made way into the room.You felt the bed dip beside you as you laid there. Your breath caught in your throat as you laid there silently under the sheets. Please go away, please don’t uncover the sheets. The cool air hit you as V pulled the sheets back. Cursing at your luck, you took a peak. Funny how creepy the smiling mask was in the dark. V’s hat was still perched on his head, you realized. His gloved fist was curled around something in his hand. A rose.

“My songbird, what is the matter,” V asked as he took in your tear stricken face. The moonlight shone onto your beautiful face, revealing the wetness of your cheeks. How beautiful you were. V felt guilty once he saw you huddled under the covers, hiding from something. Could it be from yourself? “You’re late,” you croaked, “it’s almost 5 am.” “I apologize my dear, something went a bit south.” You didn’t say anything. Your eyes clenched shut and your teeth sunk into your bottom lip from trembling. V’s head cocked to the side, his lips pulled into a frown underneath the mask. He called out your name. The softness and caring tone made your eyes snap back at him. Suddenly, a crash of thunder hit. You flinched and wormed yourself underneath the sheets even more. V simultaneously realized, at that very moment, how terrified you were of thunder. He felt stupid as he sat there, staring at your shaking form. Of course you would try to seek out comfort whenever you were scared or moody. Hiding was your last resort if there was no comfort to be found. A hand stroked your head causing you to tense up.

The leather of the glove felt cool, and smooth. Brows drawn, you looked up at V. His right arm extended to you, with the gift he had brought. “V,” you whispered as you stared at him with shock. You gently wrapped your hand around the stem, taking it from his hands. “An apology for returning so late…and to ask for a courtship. With you,” V stammered. Even with the mask, you knew V was flustered. “It’s about time,” you joked, your voice a bit hoarse. “Ah yes, well you see I was so nervous and I-I've never-” You cut him off with your lips. The odd but smooth material of the mask’s lips felt foreign against your soft, warm ones.

V didn’t even have to feel your lips to know they were the softest thing to exist. He just knew. You pulled away slowly, your cheeks warming up a bit. You were bashful, a gentle smile swept across your lips. “Thank you for the rose, it’s beautiful.” “My beautiful maiden, it is quite dark in here. You could not be quite sure of such a thing.” “I’ll kiss you again, V.” You giggled, as he shut up.

“Close your eyes and keep them closed,” V said. You looked at him confused, “Why?” “I have another gift.” A brow was raised in his direction. He just gestured at you, waiting patiently. “You’re acting pretty sus not gonna lie, but ok.” Your eyes fluttered shut. Time seemed to pass by awfully slow as you waited. Not to mention, the dark that encased you as your lids closed. “V?” “I’m right here love.” You heard something untying and felt something being placed on the bed. How badly you wanted to open your eyes, but you would not betray V like that. The smoothness of his gloves grasped both of your cheeks softly. His fingers stroked them and held cupped your cheeks. You screwed your eyes shut, fighting the urge to open them. What was he doing? Your breath stopped at a halt; his breath was on your lips. He’s going to kiss me! His mask is off! You swallowed nervously as you waited. That’s when you felt it.

V’s lips were rough and felt scarred. The texture was very different from your own, but you didn’t care. In fact, you cherished it. A sigh escaped your lips as your fingers clutched his cloak, pulling him closer. Teeth nibbled at your lips playfully. V’s scent filled your senses and you felt your head starting to become dizzy. You almost whined once his lips pulled away from yours. Eyes still closed, you waited for the signal to open them again. Your ears perked up as you heard the rustling of cloth and a little grunt from V. “Thank you darling, you can open your eyes again.” There were little dots and squiggles as you opened your eyes, moving in the air. You were a little sad to see the mask on again, but knew better than to press. V would give you the world, but he was still insecure about his skin. You were curious to see him, especially after the glimpse of damaged skin you had seen on his hands. But, you knew better than to ask, let alone force him to show you.

V placed his hat on the bedside table next to him. He was surprised to find you had fallen asleep, though it was quite late. He quietly shimmied out of his cloak and set his knives down on the nightstand. A sigh escaped his lips as he got into more comfortable clothing, followed by discarding his gloves on the table beside him. You had wrapped V around your finger; encasing him with your humour and your kindness. He was at your mercy. You had captivated the man who thought he could no longer feel love. Oh how wrong he was. V wrapped his arms around you and held you close. His art swelled a bit at the sleepy hum you gave him. Your head rested lightly on V’s chest and his arms snuggled you tightly. Your soft snores filled the room once again and V couldn’t believe how lucky he was. Eventually, the masked vigilante fell asleep; the comfort of your love and beauty keeping him warm at night.

#v for vendetta #v for vendetta x reader #x reader

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