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theartofdreaming1 · 3 years

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Katniss, bravely stepping inbetween Gale and Thread (and his whip) - she’s so courageous and protective, she deserves the world 😭

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and (many) random thoughts on chapters 7-9 are below the cut. (Is it just me, or are my notes getting longer and longer with each and every post? I swear, this book is so meaty, we’ll soon reach the point where I have to type out the entire chapter, with my thoughts in the margins)

heart

“Gale is mine. I am his. Anything else in unthinkable.”

I think these words are a result of Katniss being so afraid of losing Gale that she’s kinda overcompensating; their relationship has been strained these past few months and they’d just had a row, separating from each other on bad terms - and the next time she sees him, he’s been whipped so bad that he’s lost consciousness and could be potentially dying from his wounds. Of course she’s so terrified of losing him, that she’s holding on as tightly as she can to him. It’s important to keep in mind how important their relationship is to her and we see that in her preceding thoughts: What a pair we were - fatherless, frightened, but fiercely commited, too, to keeping our families alive. Desperate, yet no longer alone after that day, because we’d found each other. I think of a hundred moments in the woods, lazy afternoons fishing, the day I taught him to swim, that time I twisted my knee and he carried me home. Mutually counting each other, watching each other’s backs, forcing each other to be brave. - Gale was the first person who was her equal, a kindred spirit, her partner. After Katniss had lost both of her parents when her father died and her mother succumbed to her depression - the people who were supposed to care for her and guide her through growing up - she was stuck with the role of sole provider and protector of her family at age eleven. She must have been so lonely all this time until she met this boy who understood what she was going through and they learned from each other and shouldered their burdens together, to take off some of the overwhelming pressure. Of course that relationship, of course Gale is important to her. But also now their relationship has become more fragile, after the Games they are in danger of growing apart - it’s got to be so terrifying to feel like the one proper, mutual relationship you’ve had seems to be slipping through your fingers. With everything that’s going on, her entire life as it is teetering on the razor’s edge (heck, the president himself has been threatening her and her family!), it’s no wonder that Katniss is craving that familiarity and safety that her relationship with Gale used to provide her with. And seeing Gale in this state just has her holding on to him more tightly than ever.

mind

Hmm, no big moment is coming to my mind right now; I think I’m always most impressed by the tiny moments that show how tenacious, resilient and fiercely kind humans can be - like Darius stepping forward to stop Gale’s cruel punishment, Leevy volunteering to tell Hazelle about Gale and promising to stay with the Hawthorne children, Madge bringing the morphling, Katniss pressing Darius’s hand in the Training Center, Twill taking Bonnie with her to flee to D13 and so on.

soul

I believe that Katniss was honestly surprised to learn that Gale had feelings for her; she had categorically shut down the idea of entering a romantic relationship for herself, so I don’t think she’d seriously consider anyone being romantically interested in her in return (that’s not how that works, of course, but I think that’s how she perceived the whole shtick). Their kiss threw her completely for a loop and if anything, she mostly saw it as something that contributed to the deterioration of their previous, easy and comfortable relationship.

Chapter 7

A mockingjay is a creature the Capitol never intended to exist. [...] They hadn’t anticipated its will to live. - In a way, the Capitol continues to make this mistake with the people living in the districts, too - underestimating their will to live (opposed to just surviving)

I look in his [Gale’s] eyes. His temper can’t quite mask the hurt, the sense of betrayal he feels at my engagement to Peeta. This will be my last chance, this meeting today, to not lose Gale forever. - Okay, we don’t know how much Katniss might be (incorrectly) presuming here, but the idea that Gale might feel betrayal because his best friend is being forced into an engagement pisses me off. It’s fine if he’s feeling jealous because she’s being paired off with Peeta when he wishes he could have a shot with her, but how in the world does this even rate as a betrayal?! A) It’s done against her will and B) Just because they’re friends doesn’t mean Katniss owes him anything when we’re talking about romantic feelings... Ugh 😒 Also, it’s quite noteworthy how insecure Katniss feels about their relationship - she’s constantly worried Gale will drop her and their friendship (waiting for Gale after the camera teams left after winning the Games: I’d begun to think that he’d given up on me in the weeks that had passed.- Ch. 2) and it doesn’t help that she’s been through that extreme, traumatic experience without him and they haven’t had much opportunity to spend a lot of time with each other (with the Victory Tour and Gale having to work so much) and when they do hang out, they don’t seem to really talk much, which doesn’t exactly help...

He [Gale] tosses the gloves on my lap. “Here. I don’t want your fiancé’s old gloves.” “He’s not my fiancé. That’s just part of the act. And these aren’t his gloves. They were Cinna’s,” I say. “Give them back, then, he says. - Gale can be so petty sometimes 🙄

While I talk, [...] [Gale] occupies himself with turning the food in the leather bag into a meal for us. Toasting bread and cheese, coring apples, placing chestnuts in the fire to roast. I watch his hands, his beautiful, capable fingers. Scarred, as mine were before the Captiol erased all marks from my skin, but strong and deft. [...] Hands I trust. - Oh boy, this moment really shows how these two are at cross purposes right now - Gale’s prepping the food as you would for a toasting (romantic connotation), while Katniss is oberserving his hands, thinking how their hands used to match (not anymore!) and basically wishing herself back into the time before the Games, when things were ‘simpler’/more clearly defined (and also platonic!); there is nothing romantic from her P.O.V. - it’s all about the friendship and trust

[Gale] steps in and I feel myself lifted off the ground. The room spins, and I have to lock my arms around Gale’s neck to brace myself. He’s laughing, happy. “Hey!” I protest, but I’m laughing, too. Gale sets me down but doesn’t release his hold on me. “Okay, let’s run away.” [...] “You’re sure?” I say. [...] “I’m sure. I’m completely, entirely, one hundred percent sure.” - Yeah, and I’m sure you’re not going to change your opinion in the next five minutes, Gale... In his defense, Gale didn’t know all the details, so in that regard it’s totally valid that he might decide to change his mind after having more input... It’s just that Katniss specifically asks him whether he’s sure and his reply is so full of conviction (100% sure!), only for him to do a complete 180 just a couple of minutes later; Gale’s very hot and cold, which makes for such a harsh contrast when compared to Peeta’s more measured reaction later in the chapter

He tilts his forehead down to rest against mine and pulls me closer. [...] I don’t try to move away. Why should I, anyway? His voice drops to a whisper. “I love you.” That’s why. - Oh man, Katniss just can’t catch a break 😞 Really not wise of Gale to drop the L-bomb here (after, what? a kiss they never talked about and little else... their communication is truly abysmal and it’s really damaging to their relationship, hurting the both of them)

“Gale, I can’t think about anyone that way now. All I can think about, every day, is how afraid I am. And there doesn’t seem to be room for anything else. If we could get somewhere safe, maybe I could be different. I don’t know.” I can see him swallowing his disappointment. “So, we’ll go. We’ll find out.” - I mean, honestly, I totally understand where Katniss is coming from - she doesn’t need a romantic interest, she needs a partner, which is why she’s been so eager to talk to her hunting partner, someone she’s used to rely on for survival and now he’s also confounding their relationship by introducing that romance-angle (as if it wasn’t bad enough that her relationship with Peeta got kind of messed up when that same angle was forced upon them prematurely)... Also, telling how Katniss thinks she’d have to be different to maybe even consider a romantic relationship with Gale - Katniss as she is right now just can’t see herself wanting to be with Gale romantically; it would require a change... I’ve got to give Gale credit for still going along with it, and trying to push past his disappointment, though

“My [Gale’s] mother is going to take some convincing.” [...] “Mine, too. I’ll just have to make her see reason. Take her for a long walk. Make sure she understands we won’t survive the alternative.” “She’ll understand. I watched a lot of the Games with her and Prim. She won’t say no to you,” says Gale. - That’s interesting, I wonder what exactly Gale means by that? That Mrs. Everdeen won’t say no to Katniss because she feels guilty that Katniss had to go through the Games or because watching her daughter compete in the Games really made her realize how messed up Panem is? Or that she’s more inclined to trust Katniss’s judgement after everything that has happened?

“Haymitch will be the real challenge.” “Haymitch?” Gale abandons the chestnuts. “You’re asking him to come with us?” “I have to, Gale. I can’t leave him and Peeta because they’d-” His scowl cuts me off. “What?” “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how large our party was,” he snaps at me. - Gale doesn’t seem to have realized how close and important Peeta and Haymitch have become to Katniss... maybe because they never properly talked about this aspect of Katniss’s life (I swear, their shoddy communication must account for at least half of the damage their relationship has taken in these past few months alone)

“What if he [Peeta] decides to stay?” he [Gale] asks. I try to sound indifferent, but my voice cracks. “Then he stays.” “You’d leave him behind?” Gale asks. “To save Prim and my mother, yes,” I answer. “I mean, no! I’ll get him to come.” “And me, would you leave me?” Gale’s expression is rock hard now. - Boy, oh boy! I think Gale knows (like Peeta) that Katniss could never leave behind the people she cares about; then, he’s kind of gauging whether Peeta has already received the Katniss Everdeen Stamp of ‘Caring’ - and, as it turns out, he has! And then Gale ends up making it into a bit of competition by asking her whether she would leave him behind (or, alternately, her turning him down has him confused about the depth of their relationship, I dunno); not fun

“There’s an uprising in Eight?” he [Gale] says in a hushed voice. I try to backpedal. To defuse him, as I tried to defuse the districts. - Katniss is going to be about as successful as she’d been at defusing the districts, too - But here we have another example of Katniss trying to rein in Gale’s temper because she’s afraid he’s going to get himself in trouble (like when she decided not to tell him about Snow’s visit to her house because she was worried what he’d do with that information)... It’s really not great that she feels the need to censor herself so he won’t do something dangerous... Katniss knows first-hand how badly impulsive actions and decisions can be received in the Capitol - and she never even meant for a rebellion to happen!

“And it’s my fault, Gale. Because of what I did in the arena. If I had just killed myself with those berries, none of this would’ve happened. Peeta could have come home and lived, and everyone else would have been safe. too.” “Safe to do what?” he says in a gentler tone. “Starve? Work like slaves? Send their kids to the reaping? You haven’t hurt people - you’ve given them an opportunity. They just have to be brave enough to take it. - Katniss is taking all the responsibility upon herself again... Gale is right to point out that she was merely a catalyst, not the cause for the rebellion - the cause are the awful living conditions of the people in the districts

“Stop it! You don’t know what you’re saying. The Peacekeepers outside of Twelve, they’re not like Darius, or even Cray! The lives of district people - they mean less than nothing to them!” I say. “That’s why we have to join the fight!” he answers harshly. “No! we have to leave here before they kill us and a lot of other people, too!” [...] “You leave, then, I’d never go in a million years.” [...] “What about your family?” “What about the other families, Katniss? The ones who can’t run away?” - This discourse is so painful because they are both right - Katniss has seen more of the districts and how things are handled beyond the (relatively tame) confines of D12 and it’s fair that she wants to know that the people she cares about are safe from harm; Gale, of course, has a point commenting that not everyone has that opportunity and the only way to have a long-lasting, wide-spread improvement of their conditions is through rebelling against their oppressor - but that will inevitably come along with sacrifices and collateral damage and it’s easy to say that it will be worth it in the long run, but when those who are hurt/dead could end up being your loved ones, it’s definitely easier said than done

He throws Cinna’s gloves at my feet. “I changed my mind. I don’t want anything they made in the Capitol.” And he’s gone. I look down at the gloves. Anything they made in the Capitol? Was that directed at me? Does he think I am now just another product of the Capitol and therefore something untouchable? The unfairness of it all fills me with rage. But it’s mixed up with fear over what kind of crazy thing he might do next. - Gale getting rid of Cinna’s gloves just because they are from the Capitol is a prime example of this “us vs. them” mindset that he will be (worringly) fast to adopt - of course, perceiving the opposite side as “other” will make it easier to fight against them; however, it’s all too easy to lose sight of your opponent’s humanity when you think like that (think of how Gale has a hard time understanding Katniss’s distress upon seeing her prep team being treated so terribly/inhumanely in D13); Katniss feeling upset that Gale might perceive her as a product of the Capitol instead of its victim is understandable (and isn’t that exactly what the inhabitants of D13 are going to think of Peeta in MJ?) - and yet, she is still worried Gale could get himself into trouble with his impulsivity; she’s a good bean

”Going to town?” I ask. “Yes. I’m supposed to eat dinner with my family,” he [Peeta] says. - I’m tripping over the word ‘supposed’ here - it doesn’t sound like Peeta’s looking forward to hanging out with his fam, although it can’t be that often, since they’ve been away on Victory Tour and he is living alone (maybe the end of the chapter will give us another hint why that is 😒😒)... I can’t help but wonder whether these family dinners are mainly for public perception (in that case... it really is no wonder Peeta is so good at playing the cameras - poor guy had to fool the outside world his entire life) or because they are the only chance for Peeta to hang out with any of the members of his family he might actually want to spend some time with

“Peeta, if I asked you to run away from the district with me, would you?” Peeta takes my arm, bringing me to a stop. He doesn’t need to check my face to see if I’m serious. “Depends on why you’re asking.” President Snow wasn’t convinced by me. There’s an uprising in District Eight. We have to get out,” I say. “By ‘we’ do you mean just you and me? No. Who else would be going?” he asks. - Peeta doesn’t just blindly agree to Katniss’s proposal; he needs to know what’s going on first (he has been burnt before - no more secrets!) - and it’s a testament to how well he knows her that as soon as he’s asking whether she meant just the two of them, he corrects himself because knows that Katniss would never leave the ones she cares about behind

“What about Gale?” he says. “I don’t know. He might have other plans,” I say. Peeta shakes his head and gives me rueful smile. “I bet he does. Sure, Katniss, I’ll go.” I feel a slight twinge of hope. “You will?” “Yeah. But I don’t think for a minute you will,” he says. [...] “Then you don’t know me. Be ready. It could be any time.” - Telling how Peeta immediately agrees to the plan once he gathers that Gale won’t come - he knows that Katniss cares about Gale and could never leave him behind, ergo she’d never actually leave under these circumstances - he knows her so well. Also, Katniss’s reaction is like that of a petulant child, it’s kind of funny 😄

“Katniss, hold up.” [...] “I really will go, if you want me to. I just think we better talk it through with Haymitch. Make sure we won’t be making things worse for everyone.” - Ultimately, Peeta would follow Katniss to the ends of the earth - doesn’t mean that he can’t throw in a sensible suggestion in there as well 😉 (Also, in the next chapter we will see how Katniss, Gale, and Peeta might be a little too inexperienced/naive to be able to form accurate expectations of what is to come - Haymitch and his generation have a little more experience in that regard)

He raises his head. “What’s that?” [...] I haven’t noticed the strange noise coming from the square. A whistling, the sound of an impact, the intake of breath from a crowd. “Come on,” Peeta says, his face suddenly hard. I don’t know why. I can’t place the sound, even guess at the situation. But it means something bad to him. - Why does my sweet boy know what a whipping sounds like, Suzanne, huh?! Care to explain that? 😭

Peeta steps up on a crate against the wall of the sweetshop and offers me a hand while he scans the square. I’m halfway up when he suddenly blocks my way. “Get down. Get out of here!” He’s whispering, but his voice is harsh with insistence. - Peeta was offering his hand to help Katniss up the crate because they are a team (and he’s a gentleman)! It’s only when he recognizes who is receiving those lashes and realizes that Katniss will lose her shit once she knows, which could make the current situation even worse, that he urges her to leave, and he is not the only one to think that: - Voices hiss. “Get out of here, girl.” “Only make it worse.” What do you want to do? Get him killed?”

Chapter 8

It’s too late to stop the arm from descending, and I instinctively know I won’t have the power to block it. Instead I throw myself directly between the whip and Gale. I’ve flung out my arms to protext as much of his broken body as possible, so there’s nothing to deflect the lash. I take the full force of it across the left side of my face. - Katniss is so selfless; she knows that it’s either Gale getting hit again or a lash to her own face and she chooses the latter

“Hold it!” a voice barks. Haymitch appears and trips over a Peacekeeper lying on the ground. It’s Darius. [...] He’s knocked out but still breathing. What happened? Did he try to come to Gale’s aid before I got here? - Haymitch sure appeared quickly - I can easily imagine Peeta taking off immediately to get him (or send someone to bring him to the square) once he knew Katniss couldn’t be stopped; but if Haymitch had been at his house in Victor’s Village, there is no way he’d have made that quickly to the square... maybe he was already at the Hob and had gotten wind of the whole situation? Also, poor Darius! Wearing a uniform/being in some sort of position of power is no guarantee you won’t get punished as soon as you show the tiniest glimpse of compassion - in a place like Panem, nobody is safe from the caprice of the people in charge

I see a flicker of recognition in the eyes of the man with the whip. [...] it wouldn’t be easy to identify me as the victor of the last Hunger Games. Especially with half my face swelling up. But Haymitch has been showing up on television for years, and he’d be difficult to forget. - Getting Haymitch truly was the smartest move to make (which is why I’m pretty sure it was a move on Peeta’s part - he’d know how to use reminders of ‘appearances’ to ensure a punishment wouldn’t go ‘too far’, y’know 😢). But also - Thread must have lived under a flipping rock, to not being able to recognizes Katniss (her face must have been plastered all over the place during the Victory Tour, which just had concluded recently) - or he was just too in the heat of the moment, with someone opposing him, bleugh 😒

“He [Gale] was poaching. What business is it of hers, anyway?” says the man. “He’s her cousin.” Peeta’s got my other arm now, but gently. “And she’s my fiancée. So if you want to get to him, expect to go through both of us.” - I love how Peeta’s just laying it down as it is; his phrasing just sounds so factual, rather than provocative (although it is, of course); he really has a way with words - Maybe we’re it. The only three people in the district who could make a stand like this. Although it’s sure to be temporary. There will be repercussions. - Haymitch, Peeta, and Katniss working together as a team again! Also, a good example of the effect people with public influence can have

One [Peacekeeper], a woman named Purnia who eats regularly at Greasy Sae’s, steps forward stiffly. “I believe, for a first offense, the required number of lashes has been dispensed, sir. Unless your sentence is death, which we would carry out by firing squad.” “Is that the standard protocol here?” asks the Head Peacekeeper. “Yes, sir,” Purnia says, and several others nod in agreement. I’m sure none of them actually know because, in the Hob, the standard protocol for someone showing up with a wild turkey is for everybody to bid on the drumsticks. - It’s kinda nice to see the local Peacekeepers supporting Purnia’s claim to get this display to stop - this is the only way out of this situation where Thread’s authority is not openly challenged (and we know Thread doesn’t take well to having his authority challenged - see Darius)

There’s no stretcher, but the old woman at the clothing stall sells us the board that serves as her countertop. “Just don’t tell where you got it,” she says, packing up the rest of her goods quickly. Most of the square has emptied, fear getting the better of compassion. But after what happened, I can’t blame anyone. - It’s sad how that air of intimidation makes people want to mask their acts of compassion (and also says a lot about the precariousness of the existing living situations if that old lady is still selling that board - I’d never even consider exchanging money for that, but that’s probably my privileged situation showing here; Katniss brings up the theme of fear vs compassion - very fitting, since it seems to be her driving force (although, generally, her compassion wins out over her fear) and despite her assertion that fear appears to be getting the better of compassion we see a good amount of people reaching out to help, such as the following example:

Leevy, a girl who lives a few houses down from mine in the Seam, takes my arm. My mother kept her little brother alive last year when he caught the measles. “Need help getting back?” Her gray eyes are scared but determined. - The subtle suggestion here that Leevy might be further motivated to help out because Katniss’s mom helped her little brother is also an excellent example of how kindness breeds kindness

“Get some snow on that,” Haymitch orders over his shoulder. I scoop up a handful of snow and press it against my cheek, numbing a bit of the pain. - This moment reminded me of Peeta immediately reaching for some ice from that fruit tureen after Haymitch hit him on their way to the Games in THG (Ch. 4) - their different immediate reactions to getting hit in the face could simply be due to the fact that Katniss is a little too preoccupied worrying about Gale to think about her injury, of course, but I feel like you could also interpret them as examples for how much experience Katniss and Peeta have with being hit in the face, respectively...

Gale must have gone to Cray’s house, as he’s done a hundred times, knowing Cray pays well for a wild turkey. Instead he found the new Head Peacekeeper, a man they heard someone call Romulus Thread. No one knows what happened to Cray. He was buying white liquor in the Hob just this morning [...] but now he’s nowhere to be found. - As I’ve already mentioned regarding Darius, inhabiting some position of power does not guarantee you any safety in Panem (there is always someone more powerful who will treat their inferiors like garbage, if they feel like it)

By the time I showed up, he [Gale]’d been lashed at least forty times. He passed out around thirty. - Jesus 😨 poor Gale!

“What about Darius?” Peeta asks.“ After about twenty lashes, he stepped in, saying that was enough. Only he didn’t do it smart and official, like Purnia did. He grabbed Thread’s arm and Thread hit him in the head with the butt of the whip. Nothing good waiting for him,” says Bristel. - It’s so messed up how it is not enough to have someone who’d stand up and do something about a horrible situation - they have to do it the right way, or else they’re toast; there really shouldn’t have to be a smart way of doing the right thing

Snow begins, thick and wet, making visibility even more difficult. - (President) Snow is coming down hard on them, making it hard to see what’s up ahead

Ever so gently, she [Mrs. Everdeen] begins to clean the mutilated flesh on Gale’s back. I feel sick to the stomach, useless, the remaining snow dripping from my glove into a puddle on the floor. Peeta puts me in a chair and holds a cloth filled with fresh snow to my cheek. - Although she’s quite squeamish, Katniss stays as Gale gets treated (the force that holds the loved ones of the hurt/dying, just like when Peeta was being treated after their Games); meanwhile, Peeta is taking care of Katniss - there is so much care + love to be found in this moment

My mother has to save the strongest [painkillers] for the worst pain, but what is the worst pain? To me, it’s always the pain that is present. If I were in charge, those painkillers would be gone in a day because I have so little ability to watch suffering. - Honestly, same; I can’t stomach seeing other people suffer without feeling overwhelmed and feeling like crying... I don’t know how professionals do it

“Just give him the medicine!” I scream at her. [...] “Take her out,” says my mother. Haymitch and Peeta literally carry me from the room while I shout obscenities at her. They pin me down on a bed in one of the extra bedrooms until I stop fighting. - Oof. Poor Katniss! But yeah, it was the best call to remove her from the situation, Mrs. E. had to focus on what she was doing... Also, Haymitch and Peeta are the ones to get Katniss out of there and stay with her - these three take care of each other!

After a while, my mother comes in and treats my face. Then she holds my hand, stroking my arm, while Haymitch fills her in on what happened with Gale. “So it’s starting again?” she says. “Like before?” - Katniss’s mom has become a much more active and soothing presence in this book, I like it... Also, what does “again” mean? Does this imply there has been an attempted uprising in D12 that needed to be squashed before?

Cray would have been disliked, anyway, because of the uniform he wore, but it was his habit of luring starving young women into his bed for money that made him an object of loathing in the district. In really bad times, the hungriest would gather at his door at nightfall, vying for the chance to earn a few coins to feed their families by selling their bodies. Had I been older when my father died, I might have been among them. - Horrifying and absolutely disgusting 🤢 Those poor women! How desperate they must have been!

... when the doorbell rings, I shoot straight out of bed. [...] “They [the peacekeepers] can’t have him,” I say. “Might be you they’re after,” Haymitch reminds me. “Or you,” I say. “Not my house,” Haymitch points out. “But I’ll get the door.” “No, I’ll get it,” says my mother quietly. - Again, Mrs. Everdeen is taking the initiative! She was so watered down in the movies

[Madge] holds out a small, damp cardboard box to me. “Use these for your friend,” she says. I take off the lid of the box, revealing half a dozen vials of clear liquid. [...] “What is that stuff?” asks Peeta. “It’s from the Capitol. It’s called morphling,” my mother answers. “I didn’t even know Madge knew Gale,” says Peeta. “We used to sell her strawberries,” I say almost angrily. What am I angry about, though? Not that she has brought the medicine, surely. “She must have quite a taste for them,” says Haymitch. That’s what nettles me. It’s the implication that there’s something going on between Gale and Madge. And I don’t like it. “She’s my friend” is all I say. - I mean, Katniss could be mad because A) Gale had literally just told her he loved her a few hours ago and if there was something (reciprocated) going on between Gale and Madge, that would have been pretty shitty for both girls involved and also B) she is friends with both of them and it would be hurtful to learn that two of your closest friends had been seeing each other without telling you anything about it... also, she’s super upset over Gale getting so seriously hurt just after they’d had an argument, her feelings are all over the place

... I’m selfish. I’m a coward. I’m the kind of girl, who, when she might actually be of use, would run to stay alive and leave those who couldn’t follow to suffer and die. This is the girl Gale met in the woods today. No wonder I won the Games. No decent person ever does. You saved Peeta, I think weakly. But now I question even that. I knew good and well that my life back in District 12 would be unlivable if I let that boy die. - Yes, Katniss, you knew that your life back in D12 would have been unlivable if he died - but not because you feared that people would shun you; it was because you “couldn’t lose the boy with the bread” and because “if he dies, I’ll never go home, not really”... This is an excellent example of how distorted your memories can get when you are in a bad headspace at present

The berries. I realize the answer to who I am lies in that handful poisonous fruit. If I held them out to save Peeta because I knew I would be shunned if I came back without him, then I am despicable. If I held them out because I loved him, I am still self-centered, although forgivable. But if I held them out to defy the Capitol, I am someone of worth. - Katniss, you don’t have to be planning to overthrow a corrupt and cruel government to be someone of worth! You’re someone of worth just by being yourself! - The trouble is, I don’t know exactly what was going on inside me at that moment. - Frankly, very rarely are our motivations clearly defined by a single factor - or my professor would not have been able to teach an entire semester-long course on motivation psychology😉)

Chapter 9

Gale’s dead to the world, but his fingers are locked around mine. I smell fresh bread and turn my stiff neck to find Peeta looking down at me with such a sad expression. I get the sense that he’s been watching us awhile. “Go on up to bed, Katniss. I’ll look after him now,” he says. - Peeta! Must have been hard for him to see Katniss like this (and the underlying strength of Katniss and Gale’s relationship, when his relationship with Katniss is still not all that solidified), and yet he’s being such a good bean about it 😭

I give a strangled cry and wake with a start, sweating and shivering at once. Cradling my damaged cheek in my hand, I remind myself that it was not Clove but Thread who gave me this wound. I wish that Peeta were here to hold me, until I remember I’m not supposed to wish that anymore. I have chosen Gale and the rebellion, and a future with Peeta is the Capitol’s design, not mine. - Katniss, gurl... Maybe your instinctive desire to receive comfort from Peeta is trying to tell you something??!? Also, Katniss is forcing this strange dichotomous association of Gale = rebellion and Peeta = Capitol, when in just a bit, she’s clearly connecting Peeta to the rebellion as well (aside from the fact that Peeta was basically the first person to suggest to her that maybe a rebellion was necessary... just saying)

Fighting the Capitol assures their swift retaliation. I must accept that at any moment I can be arrested. [...] There might be torture. Mutliation. A bullet through the skull in the town square [...] I imagine these things and I’m terrified, but let’s face it: They’ve been lurking in the back of my brain, anyway. [...] I’m already a target. - Oh geez! Despite admitting that she’s terrified of what the Capitol is capable fo doing to her, Katniss is still pretty composed naming the possible horrors in store for her, which is just a heartbreaking reminder of how many terrible things she has already had to endure.🙁

Now comes the harder part. I have to face the fact that my family and friends might share this fate. Prim. I need only to think of Prim and all my resolve disintegrates. It’s my job to protect her. [...] I can’t let the Capitol hurt Prim. - 😭😭😭 Katniss has reached a point where she can put her own need for survival/physical intactness aside, but the thought of something awful happening to Prim stops her short (it’s so strange to think that, in a twisted way, it wasn’t the Capitol who’d ended up inflicting the final harm upon Prim...)

And then it hit’s me. They already have. They have killed her father in those wretched mines. They have sat by as she almost starved to death. [...] She has been hurt far worse than I had at the age of twelve. And even that pales in comparison with Rue’s life. [...] Prim... Rue... aren’t they the very reason I have to try to fight? Because what has been done to them is so wrong, so beyond justification, so evil that there is no choice? Because no one has the right to treat them as they have been treated? Yes. This is the thing to remember when fear threatens to swallow me up. What I am about to do, whatever any of us are forced to endure, it is for them. - All these things are very true and it’s also very fitting that the main motivation for Katniss would be to ensure a better future for the children of Panem (and to avenge the evils done to the people close to her heart... while Katniss of course can see the abstract bigger picture/reason for the rebellion, she always operates best when it comes to specific people/circumstances she has a deep, personal connection with)... But also: all these things apply to you, too, Katniss! Despite your tendency to feel responsible for everything and everyone, you’re still a child that had to grow up way too fast and had to endure way too much!

We need someone to direct us and reassure us this is possible. And I don’t think I’m that person. I may have been a catalyst for rebellion, but a leader should be someone with conviction, and I’m barely a convert myself. Someone with unflinching courage, and I’m still working hard at finding mine. Someone with clear and persuasive words, and I’m so easily tongue-tied. Words. I think of words and I think of Peeta. - Katniss’s idea of a great leader for the rebellion is Peeta - interesting, isn’t it (she could have considered Gale, but no)? She makes a good point, though: it helps when a leader has plenty of charisma, and our boy has that in spades; he’s got a good set of morals, is not above joining in on the action/risking his own neck when the need arises and is very genuine and purposeful with his words and actions, which is inspiring... I think Katniss is severely underselling how courageous she is, though

He could move a crowd to action, I bet, if he chose to. Would find the things to say. But I’m sure the idea has never crossed his mind. - Why would you assume that, Katniss? Peeta’s literally the one to suggest to you that trying to placate the district might not be the right thing to do... Peeta’s not someone who’d stir up trouble just for the sake of stirring up trouble, sure; he’s much more deliberate about doing things the ‘right’ way, but he’s not generally opposed to challenging authorities (he’s literally the one to openly gift some of your winnings to another district!)

She knows what she’s doing, my mother. I feel a pang of remorse about yesterday, the awful things I yelled at her as Peeta and Haymitch dragged me from the kitchen. “I’m sorry. About screaming at you yesterday.” - It’s so sweet how Katniss feels sorry for yelling at her mom and apologizes to her; their relationship really has improved so much in this book - “I’ve heard worse,” she says. “You’ve seen how people are, when someone they love is in pain.” Someone they love. [...] Of course, I love Gale. But what kind of love does she mean? What do I mean when I say I love Gale? I don’t know. I did kiss him last night, in a moment when my emotions were running so high. But i’m sure he doesn’t remember it. Does he? I hope not. - Katniss is struggling to figure out in what way she loves Gale... She definitely doesn’t want him to remember their kiss because she knows it wouldn’t be fair to give him the hope that she might be able to return his romantic feelings when she is still in the dark about her own

... and I can’t really think about kissing when I’ve got a rebellion to incite. I give my head a little shake to clear it. “Where’s Peeta?” I say. - Lol, goes on to immediately mention the guy she’s been kissing these past few weeks (see, with Peeta you could actually have both: kissing and rebellion, Katniss - he’s the perfect man, isn’t he? 😉😋)

“He went home when he heard you stirring. Didn’t want to leave his house unattended during the storm,” says my mother. - Yeah, I don’t think Peeta left because of his house; I’m pretty sure he needed some time to himself after seeing Katniss and Gale this morning - he is the type of person who needs to be alone to work through his feelings when he’s feeling upset - “Did he get back all right?” [...] “Why don’t you give him a call and check?” she says. I go into the study, a room I’ve pretty much avoided since my meeting with President Snow, and dial Peeta’s number. After a few rings he answers. “Hey. I just wanted to make sure you got home,” I say. “Katniss. I live three houses away from you,” he says. “I know, but with the weather and all,” I say. “Well, I’m fine. Thank you for checking.” There’s a long pause. “How’s Gale?” - Aww, Katniss is worried about Peeta and gives him a call, although she hates being in the study 😊 Also, her calling him must have been at least of some reassurance to Peeta that she genuinely cares about him, in some way (though, he’s still clearly busy processing her relationship with Gale, since he’s asking about him as if he hadn’t seen that dude just a couple of minutes prior)

“Have you seen Haymitch today?” “I checked in on him. Dead drunk. But I built up his fire and left him some bread,” he says. “I wanted to talk to - to both of you.” I don’t dare add more, here on my phone, which is surely tapped. - Despite everything, Peeta still made sure to look after Haymitch! And I know, there is also the issue of their houses themselves potentially being bugged, but I couldn’t help imagining how they could easily avoid the whole phone-tapping thing simply by using a tin can telephone (they do live pretty close to each other, after all) 😂

“You don’t even have a phone,” I say. “Effie had that fixed,” he [Haymitch] says. “Do you know she asked me if I’d like to give you away? I told her the sooner the better.” “Haymitch.” I can hear the pleading creeping into my voice. “Katniss.” He mimics my tone. “It won’t work.” - Okay, but Haymitch mimicking Katniss’s tone reminds me so much of when Peeta mimicked her tone towards the end of their Games, when she was trying to persuade him to climb into a tree as a lookout while he was insistent she’d show him some plants to gather; these three, I swear! 😂 On a sad note, Haymitch is talking from experience here when he’s advising Katniss not to challenge the Capitol 🥺😢

Some streets away from the square, I see a blaze flare up. None of us has to say it. That can only be the Hob going up in smoke. I think of Greasy Sae, Ripper, all my friends who make their livings there. - Katniss considers the people from the Hob her friends - honestly, even if the Hawthornes, Everdeens, Peeta and Haymitch all had agreed to leave D12, I don’t think Katniss would have been able to go through with it - she cares too much about the people in D12 to have been able to leave them to their fate

“Well, I better go see how much rubbing alcohol the apothecary can spare.” He [Haymitch] trudges off across the square and I look at Peeta. “What’s he want that for?” Then I realize the answer. “We can’t let him drink it. He’ll kill himself, or at the very least go blind. I’ve got some white liquor put away at home.” “Me, too. Maybe that will hold him until Ripper finds a way to be back in business,” says Peeta. - Another instance of Katniss and Peeta being on the same wavelength, having taken precautions to help out Haymitch so he doesn’t have to go cold turkey again

We find Hazelle in her house, nursing a very sick Posy. I recognize the measles spots. “I couldn’t leave her,” she says. “I knew Gale’d be in the best possible hands.” - The second mention of someone having contracted the measles in D12 - Why the heck does the Capitol withhold measles vaccination from the people in the districts?! They’re inflicting unnecessary damage onto the very people they want to exploit... But I guess cruelty isn’t always about playing it smart and logical...

When we’re outside, I turn to Peeta. “You go on back. I want to walk by the Hob.” “I’ll go with you,” he says. “No. I’ve dragged you into enough trouble,” I tell him. “And avoiding a stroll by the Hob... that’s going to fix things for me?” He smiles and takes my hand. - They are a team, they stick together (and they are constantly holding hands, always physically linked to each other)😩💕 Also, Peeta pointing out the irrationality of Katniss’s train of thought to calm her down and stay with her reminds me of how he’s going to use logical reasoning to calm her down after the jabberjays in the Quarter Quell arena

We go back to the square. I buy some cakes from Peeta’s father while they exchange small talk about the weather. No one mentions the ugly tools of torture just yards from the front door. The last thing I notice as we leave the square is that I do not recognize even one of the Peacekeepers’ faces. - How weird is it that Peeta and his dad just talk about the weather?! Is this supposed to illustrate how in the Mellark family they just ignored the ugliness going on in their lives *cough cough* the abuse *cough cough* and just pretended that everything was fine, on a very superficial level? Also, it makes perfect sense that the Peacekeepers have been exchanged; the more time we spend with people, the more likely we are to like them - that won’t do if you want to have a ruthless authoritarian police force in the districts

As the days pass, things go from bad to worse. The mines stay shut for two weeks, and by that time half of District 12 is starving. The number of kids signing up for tesserae soars, but they often don’t receive their grain. Food shortages begin, and even those with money come away from stores empty-handed. [...] The eagerly awaited food promised for Parcel Day arrives spoiled and defiled by rodents. - This is just so awful and despicable 😞 Life in the districts was already horrible but now the government does not even honor the extortionary rules they themselves have set up! I can’t help but wonder if the lack of food could be traced back to rebellions in the food supplying districts and, to keep this from the inhabitants of the Capitol, the reduced amount of good food was (obviously) kept for the Capitolites, so that the bad food had to be sent to the districts, anyway... It just seems like such a breach of ‘honor’/etiquette on the Capitol’s part, I dunno... Or maybe Snow was just desperate to use any means necessary to stamp out any potential rebellions in the districts that he still had some control over...

Gale goes home with no more talk of rebellion between us. But I can’t help thinking that everything he sees will only strengthen his resolve to fight back. [...] Rory has signed up for tesserae, something Gale can’t even speak about - Poor, Gale! Poor Hawthornes :(

My fingers have all but decided to release the arrow when I see the object in the glove. It’s a small white circle of flat bread. More of a cracker, really. Gray and soggy around the edges. But an image is clearly stamped in the center of it. It’s my mockingjay. - It is so very telling that the true symbol of the rebellion combines something symbolic of Katniss (which also contains a nod to Rue) and something symbolic of Peeta (the bread/cracker!) The people in the districts have rightfully recognized the both of them as symbol of the rebellion; they have a truer vision of the matter than the more artifically/forcefully constructed symbol of rebellion that D13 /Coin will push - we will also see that when the people in D13 will view Peeta as a traitor, while the rebels Katniss will visit in D8 instead ask her about Peeta and assure her that they know he was speaking under duress

#thgagain #thg #katniss everdeen #hunger games #thg meta #peeta mellark #haymitch abernathy #gale hawthorne #my sketches and drawings #thg fanart #catching fire

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zodiyack · 3 years

Text

Voice

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, PTSD mention, I think that’s it

Words: 1,797

Summary: Tommy wants to spend the rest of his life with Y/n. A peculiar little thing about life is that you never stop learning, and Tommy learns a thing or two, letting Y/n learn more about him in return...or is it him who learns from her?

Note: I suck at words, Tommy Shelby edition. And I couldn’t come up with a summary or title for this so know that if they don’t make sense together (or the story at all)...I know.

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @captivatedbycillianmurphy, @jenepleurepasbaby, @stydia-4-ever, @stuckysslag, @marquelapage, @i-love-superhero, @psychkunox, @tommyxshelby

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist | Cillian Murphy Masterlist

The morning he met her was the first morning of many that his genuinely eyes opened since the war. Trauma had changed his life for what he thought was a permanent turn for the worst, but upon meeting her, it seemed that heaven was within his grasp once more. Impossible, he thought at first. Yet, later, when he put more thought into it, perhaps his redemption was actually there.

So the next time he saw her, he took a deep breath, reminded himself that he was no longer a boy, and went for it. Alas, his confidence joined him under the definition of cowardice in the very least second; she titled her head, innocent eyes sparkling with curiosity as she awaited whatever he had to say. But no words left his lips. She snatched them away with something even Thomas didn’t know of.

“Are you alright?” She asked, the concern in her voice lifting his spirits high as a warm feeling entered his body. It was the first time in what felt like centuries that a feeling as happy as that coursed through him.

It was also the first time that he was left without words. He tried, opening his mouth as if it were as easy as that to get the things he needed to say out, but he was still without anything but air.

“Sir?” Her brows furrowed. He couldn’t tell whether she was getting annoyed, scared, or just overly frightened for him, but he closed his mouth and reminded himself to breathe. Do not forget to breathe.

Was he sure he was a man? Or was he a boy once again? The same boy before the war who would blush and flirt teasingly, who held so much joy that his cheeks hurt.

And then it happened.

A smile grew upon his lips and he nodded.

A chuckle of relief left her mouth and she lifted her hand to her chest, resting it over her heart. “Oh thank fucking god- I admit, I was rather worried there. For both you and I!” She averted her eyes for a split second before redirecting them to his. “If you aren’t in any trouble... Is there anything I can help you with?”

The words were still lodged in his throat. So he did the only thing he could think of and sheepishly shook his head, turned, and left.

More interactions occurred between the two until one day, when she showed up at his office in search of a job. Lizzie knocked at his door, announcing that he had an appointment.

“Send ‘em in.” He replied lightly, not even lifting his eyes from the paper in front of him. Lizzie took a second, waiting for the moment that would never come- the one where he took a second away from work to actually look people in the face, but gave in with a sigh and closed the door.

“Go on in, hon.” She nodded her head to the door, returning to the typewriter and resuming her work.

It was silent aside from Lizzie’s typing. The click clacking of the keys, letters stamping the ink onto the paper, the quickness of her fingers at work. Y/n got lost in it momentarily before the noise suddenly ceased. Lizzie lifted her head, a brow quirked as she stared and waited for Y/n to enter Thomas’ office.

“Finally. Ahem, I suppose you’re here for...” Tommy started when the door squeaked open again but trailed off when he finally lifted his head. He couldn’t blink away the surprise, not this time. She truly caught him off guard.

And, apparently, him her.

“So he speaks? ...Ah- my apologies! Yes, Mr. Shelby, I’m here for a job...and, not on the topic of occupation, I would like to mention that you have a lovely voice. I think I’d enjoy hearing it more often.”

She definitely heard more of it.

Tommy gave her the job, and with it, a relationship. At first they were strictly boss and employee, but soon, it sparked into something more. Friendship. Good friendship. Close Friendship.

Then ...Romance.

The day came where Tommy learned a lesson or two about love from someone he deeply admired and respected. Someone close, someone he loved but not in the way he did Y/n. Polly Gray payed her nephew a visit and taught him the thing he dreaded but knew he’d have to face eventually.

“If you want her to some day be your wife, then you have to let her in!” She’d taken a liking to Y/n as well. After all, she was technically Y/n’s boss as well, so she met the woman and didn’t hesitate in accepting their relationship. “She knows what you let her about this business, but one day she’ll either want to know more or find out on her own accord.”

Pol wasn’t just talking about business. She meant honesty in every way he could describe it. The depressive sides he hid from even his family, his brothers whom suffered the same aside, and so much more the world had yet to see. He could either hide it or show her, but one day it would come into the light.

It was true, and unpleasantly so. The downside to being part of the Peaky Blinders was one that came with life in general; Love wasn’t easy. If he wanted, he could just force Y/n out of the country, forget about her, and move on. She’d be safe and he’d be happy knowing she was, but deep down, he was too much of a coward to do something like that. Too afraid of what could happen to her, to her feelings, to his own...

So Tommy listened and grew a metaphorical pair. The night he planned on opening up to her, an uneasy feeling nagged at his gut. This was his one shot. His shot at being with the love of his life, creating a family and knowing what it feels like to be loved by someone, and not in a platonic way. He held onto the feeling she gave him and used it to power his courage.

“Are you alright, Tommy?” Her gentle hand that previously combed through his hair came into contact with his jaw. Not harsh, but gentle. Softly guiding his head, she forced his bright blue orbs to meet hers. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Her hand moved up slightly to caress his cheek. Thomas leaned into her touch, closing his eyes and reveling in the moment. He truly felt youth envelope him whenever he was with her. His demons faded as if they never existed in the first place every time her presence was with his.

Then, he lifted his hand to meet her wrist. He took the other with the same grip and opened his eyes, looking into her with the same admiration she had only mere minutes ago. “I know.”

“Then tell me...what’s bothering you?”

Tommy thought for a second, but just as the first time he tried to form words, his cowardliness came a ’nocking on his door. “It’s nothing, love. How ‘bout we sleep, yeah?”

Y/n hesitated but nodded, curling into his side and drifting off slowly. It took him a bit longer, but by midnight, the two were out cold. Of course, he never stayed asleep long. She didn’t know that, however. Tommy never let her stay the night until tonight, afraid of what she would think of his softer, more fearful side when he was too overwhelmed to hide it.

He awoke with a start, chest heaving heavily and breath so terribly uneven, one would think he were on the brink of death. That’s what he felt like. As though he were on the smallest ledge, seconds away from cracking down the part of which connected him too the land full of life and dropping him into the deepest pits of hell itself. Tommy’s nightmare woke Y/n too.

She was drowning in concern the second her eyes snapped open. “Tommy- Tommy!” He couldn’t help but panic, the PTSD too much for him, “Hey- hey, I’m here. Okay? It’s me.” she didn’t blame him. Instead, she gripped his wrists like he did hers and softly ushered him back into his calm state. Her whispers were reassuring and brought him back to reality, soothing his mind with powers similar to a siren’s.

“Y/n- I’m sorry-” He spoke hurriedly after she lit a candle- it provided them with enough light to see one another, not that the moon didn’t already do that enough.

“Don’t be. From the looks of it, this isn’t the first time this has happened.” She didn’t sound tired, not even a blink of sleep left in her eyes nor voice. “Tommy... Why didn’t you tell me?”

Tommy was a little taken aback by her lack of fear or other emotions like disgust, although he couldn’t quite think of a single reason as to why she’d feel that of all things, but answered her as honestly as he could. Just like Polly told him too. “I’m not sure... I was...cowardly. Though you’d be ashamed or something.”

She squinted at him, “Why on earth would I feel ashamed?”

A few seconds went by of his eyes darting around as he mentally searched for a possible answer and he came up blank. Thomas shrugged, “Fuck... I don’t even fucking know.”

They shared a chuckle, hushed but still very much real. Y/n caressed his cheeks again, tracing his beautifully sculpted features with gentle fingers.

“I love,” her eyes scanned his face lovingly, “every part of you. Whether you like a detail about you or not, I will love it with every fiber of my being. The good, the bad...the mildly confusing,” he chuckled with her, “I love it.”

Y/n pulled away from him and leaned him. She blew out the candle then readjusted her position under the sheets, squirming into Tommy’s side and resting her head atop his chest. It rose and fell with each breath he took, his torso lifting her head and dropping it as carefully as one would rock a baby.

“I’m here now, and I’m here to stay. We can either stay awake or, you can lie down with me and get through this shit together. Either way, I’m not letting you face anything else alone.”

“Y/n-” He was going to tell her that it was fine, shove another lie to hide his worries despite inevitable discovery.

“I mean it, Thomas. For as long as I live, you will never have to carry your struggles by your lonesome. So, in the morning, you can tell me what I’m gonna be helping you with.” She paused before cracking a smile. “After all, you know how much I love your voice.”

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #thomas shelby #peaky blinders x reader #x reader #zodiyack #reader insert #imagine #tommy shelby imagine #all readers #cillian murphy imagine #this is so confusing so i can't blame you if you think that as well #writing at midnight after taking meds may not have great outcomes #but i haven't posted in five does so i say fuck it

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jeanslongschlong · 3 years

Text

a-z fluff alphabet for connie springer

requested by @squidonmywall !! i hope you enjoy <3

warnings: some swearing

word count: 1871

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

Your sense of humor! Connie is a really funny guy, so it means a lot to him that you can match his energy at all times. He doesn’t believe in soulmates, but he’s starting to think that maybe, just maybe…

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Your cheeks! Connie LOVES to pinch them, caress them, kiss them, and so on. He makes it his life mission to make you blush, as seeing the red tint on your cheeks makes pride swell up in him over the fact that he made you have that reaction. He also loves when- jk, we’re keeping this PG here. I’ll expand more on this when I do his NSFW alphabet.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

Under lots of blankets and on top of lots of pillows. But he will cuddle with you anywhere and everywhere; Connie is not shy about PDA with you.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

I get extremely romantic vibes from Connie, so probably some sort of mountain getaway, during which you spend time in a sauna, go skiing, and have a candlelit dinner with the breathtaking view of the snow-tipped mountains in the background. I can assure you he will do everything in his power to make you swoon, and (more likely than not) CRINGE at some of his cheesy attempts at flirting. He may be a romantic, but I never said anything about being smooth. That is a whole other story.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

Connie is pretty open about his emotions with everyone, but even more so with you. You just make him feel so comfortable, he knows that no matter what he’s feeling you won’t judge him; you’ll try your hardest to sympathize and help him work through it. That’s another thing he loves about you, your empathy.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

CONNIE WANTS LIKE FIVE KIDS AND YOU CANNOT CHANGE MY MIND. In any case, he only wants them if you want them of course. He isn’t going to force you into something you don’t want. However, I would say that it could be a deal breaker for him…but it just depends. If you do want to have kids as well, I’d say he wants to start having them around 24/25.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

HE LOVES GIVING GIFTS. I don’t think he has a lot of money so they probably aren’t expensive ones, but expect a bunch of small things randomly. He doesn’t need a holiday to buy you a gift, he just does it whenever he feels like it (which is almost always LMFAO he’s such a sweetie I am in love).

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

All the time. Everywhere. Everyday. He holds onto your hand like it’s his fucking LIFELINE. (please I simp for this man so much he is so precious help)

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

Simply put, he would cry. Similar to Eren, he would most likely shut down, overwhelmed by the panic and regret that washes over him when someone informs him of your injury. He would be so patient and loving during your recovery period, though. If you were staying in a hospital room he would give you his pudding cups during dinnertime.

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

Obviously Connie likes to joke, he’s one of the funniest characters in AOT. However, pranks? Nah. Not alone, at least. Teamed up with Sasha is a whole other story. But I don’t think they’d be anything serious. If he did prank you, it would be like…hiding a whoopie cushion on the couch where you normally sit, not a breakup prank or a cheating prank. He thinks those are too cruel and he would feel wayyyy too bad about it.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

Lowkey…I feel like he gives wet and sloppy kisses. But the type that make you feel warm inside. Kissing him brightens your whole day, they’re so infused with love that you could faint.

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

Words, gifts, kisses, random hugs, cuddles, you name it. He makes it VERY KNOWN in every way possible that he loves you. He is not embarrassed about it at all, and he makes sure you don’t forget it.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

Your first date. He stuttered so bad and yet you didn’t make fun of him. That’s when he knew that he had it BAD for you. He went home and literally couldn’t sleep he was so overwhelmed with affection for you.

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

He’s afraid that his forwardness will eventually scare you away. He’s so open about everything, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that you are, so he’s afraid that one day he will overstep his boundaries and drive you away permanently.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

French kissing is a no-no. Even though his kisses are wet and sloppy, I really think that the thought of your tongues in each other’s mouths gross him out. I think the same goes for Levi, too, if I’m being honest.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

Angel, my love, my dearest. THIS BOY IS SO CHEESY BUT IT MELTS YOU

“You’re so pretty, angel. How the hell did I manage to get a girlfriend as heavenly as you?”

(And then you probably made fun of him and you two double over in the type of laughter that makes your stomach cramp. Oh, to be loved by Connie.)

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

A lot, quality time is his love language, second to gift giving. If he had it his way, the only time he would be away from you is when he was at work, at school, or going to the bathroom. Otherwise, he wants to be all up in your business. But, he respects your space so he tries to refrain from asking you to hang out every day. Key word: tries.

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

“Two” by Sleeping At Last. No explanation needed.

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

He tells you everything, even things you think ‘god, why did he tell me that?’ afterwards. SO, he tells you everything. He keeps nothing from you, which makes surprising you SUPER hard for him LMAO. He just wants to tell you as soon as he possibly can.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

Not very long. 3 months at most. This boy can’t wait LOL he has 0 patience. He knew he wanted to make you his even before you had your first date, but he waited to give you time to think about what you wanted. (Although how could you not want him??? FR)

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

Super supportive. He will be whatever you need him to be. If you need to scream at him to let out all of your frustration? He’ll let you. If you need him to hold a pillow for you to punch while you’re angry? Consider him your new punching bag. If you need him to just hold you and stroke your hair while you cry? He’ll do it. Anything for you.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

He’s honestly just so happy that you love him. He loves to show you off; he tells anyone who will listen how amazing you are, how beautiful you are, how he’s convinced that if soulmates did exist, you’d be his.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

Like Eren, Connie would lay down his life for you in a heartbeat. He gets a little scared when he thinks about you fighting, but he knows that you’d be fine, so he never really voices that fear.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

Pretty damn well. He’s not dumb, he can tell when you’re actually mad and when you’re just crabby because you haven’t eaten. He’s memorized all of the indicators that point towards how you’re feeling, and he’s always prepared to deal with it.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

SOOOOO ROMANTICALLY PLS IM GONNA SOB THINKING ABOUT IT.

This is the only secret that I feel he would successfully keep from you; he wants to make it as special as possible (which is quite the opposite of Eren LOL). He would take you on a walk near sunset, and would time it so perfectly that you would end up at the place you first met right when the sun starts to set.

The sky is filled with picturesque shades of pinks, yellows, reds, and oranges, and you stop for a moment to gape in astonishment at its beauty. He admires you as you stare at the sky, your hand held to your forehead to shield your eyes from the brunt of the sun’s mighty rays, your eyes filled with such bewilderment that it warms him from the inside out. He takes this moment to kneel down onto one knee, reaching back to fish out the black ring box he had put in his pockets a few hours before.

“Y/N…” he says softly, trying to get your attention. You turn around, expecting him to make fun of you for being so infatuated with the colors of the sky, but instead let out a strangled gasp.

“Holy shit, are you-“

“Yes,” he smiles up at you and reaches out with his left hand to grasp your right. He gives your hand a loving squeeze, sucks in a breath, then continues, “I knew from the moment we met here all of those years ago that I was going to marry you. You know how I knew?” You shake your head no. “The moment our eyes met, I was filled with such a sense of completion that there was no other way to explain it. I’ve told you many times that I don’t believe in soulmates, that I think it’s just a shanty created by the romance genre to create unrealistic expectations when it comes to love. But…I’m now thoroughly convinced that you are mine.”

“Connie, I-“

“Marry me.”

“Yes.”

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

Taking a nap with you under a thick blanket. He loves to be held by you, so preferably with him on top of you, your arms wrapped tightly around him and him using your stomach as a pillow. Prime sleeping position for Connie Springer.

#aot headcanons #aot #attack on titan x reader #connie springer x reader #connie springer #connie springer fluff alphabet #snk #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan

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botwstoriesandsuch · 3 years

Note

hey Kip! I’m sending asks into different writer’s askboxes, inquiring about cool themes/development facts/stuff the author wants to share about their personal favorite work of their own. What’s yours? :)

Ok so this ask is old and when I first got it I was like “dang I don’t really have a lot to talk about, what should I talk about I could those revalink headcanons the Kip Cut that turned into a working fic uhh hmm maybe I’ll just make something new to talk about real quick” and then I did and now there is a 12+ chapter Revalink fic in my drafts and I’m gonna talk about that now, whoopsie doopsie [click "j" to skip]

aHEM, OK so allow me to break out the primary school white board because yeah, I have a lot of thoughts and the oxford comma has not yet made it’s home into my brain. oh and spoilers for paraphrase. for both all of Chapter one and future events in later chapters, but it’s really nothing you couldn’t surmise from the AO3 tags

so I really wanted to tell the story of Revali and Link learning and struggling to love again after the less-than-fortunate events of Botw, but I wanted a...how you say...fresher, approach on the subject? Like I know we always say that fanfic writers writing the same tropes and stories time and time again is good because we eat that shit up--but at the same time I had asian parenting as was told never to half ass anything ever, no matter what. So now I'm gay and extra and have depression maybe and oh would you look at that @motherhyrule has dropped a beautiful revalink prompt right into my lap

Great so now that we have, that, I shall take you on the step by step process on how to make a :sparkles: story. So step one is to spend at least five to eleven business days for your white board to dismantle your genre and themes and work them around your character arcs. Luckily I have prepared one ahead of time

s*breaks out those laser pointers that uni professors use* So let's start with defining genre. As define because I HATE you, fuck you. I want you to suffer and writhe on the ground, motherfucker. How dare you think that I would give you nothing but pure predictable fluff, fuck you and yours

is the set of expectations that your audience has when consuming a piece of media

And the great thing about fanfiction is that unlike movies or book where the genres are more vague like, "oh it's a noir mystery genre. so there's a crime, maybe a murder, and a detective and a criminal." or "oh it's a teen romance. so there's some white people and a morally questionable six-pack 18 year old love interest that will be painted as desirable for some reason" BUT with fanfiction HALF of the work out the window, because as soon as you see those #revalink #aro sidon #zelpha #revali is an idiot and #found family tags you already know what's up.

Now what's so great about genre and expectation? Well the fun thing about it is that

I will use it to fucking break you.

... ... ...

<3 For example! <3

In Chapter 1: Holes, you already expect there to be revalink, you already expect them to be soulmates with the soulmarks and there's angst and yadayada ya. Revali and Link have to match because thatttss what this is all about, this is about them! This is about cute, little soulmarks and romantic words!

But whoooopsie doopsie [disney channel laugh track plays] they DON'T match anymore! Link's got a different mark! The number one rule of this entire genre has been broken whoooooooooooooooops. *ba dum tiss*

You might notice with a lot of my writing that I do this a lot, this whole..."oop but there's one little thing that's different." TebaSaki sick fic? Ok cool, but what if Teba burns an irreplaceable relic of the Rito champion to fight a wizzrobe first to characterize why his dumbass clicks with Saki. Mipha deciding to persue Link? Ok what if she chases after a dragon to externalize this conflict as she pierces it's flesh for a scale. Link fighting a Lynel? Ok but what if it's actually a sidlink angst fic in disguise and it's also world building on how Link deals with the bloodmoon that erases all of his efforts which is sort of similar to how his existence was erased from Hyrule 100 years ago mwaahahaha! Ok now that I say this outloud I think I just have a pattern of using fight scenes to externalize character growth. I like fight scenes...anyways.

I think another great thing about the realm of fanfiction is that with the tagging system, I can basically use a chekhov's gun sort of deal, without doing any writing. You know I'm gonna use that gun marked "soulmates" but you don't know when I'm gonna shoot it, and you SURE as hell don't know how.

And huzzah! One of the main points of conflict both drives the tension between Revali and Link, solidifies the unique genre and setting of this world, while also creating a new mystery that will carry over for the next few chapters.

Is Revali right in that Link's rebirth makes him destined for someone new now? What will Link do with the information that his soulmark has changed? Why did it change? Did Revali's change as well? How does anything fucking work right now?

And sure, you might be able to tell where things will end with them, but you sure as fuck will not know how because I HATE you. Fuck you. I want you to suffer and writhe on the ground, motherfucker. How dare you think that I would give you nothing but pure predictable fluff. I am not your goddamn fairy godmother, I will do as I fucking please. You will suffer as you fucking deserve, fuck you and your little tiny--

Oh! But you might have noticed on my little planning whiteboard thing that there was a little T-Chart! For Revali and Link! That's because the next important thing besides plot (and in a lot of cases, including this one, it's argued to be even MORE important than plot) is

~CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT~

[to the tune of that history of the world video on youtube]

So yes, it's a little T-Chart outlining their character views in relation to the themes. And the great thing about themes is that they're not something you can necessarily predict in the same way you can with the genre and plot.

But now see, I'm very lazy so I'm just gonna plagiarize @hyrule-kingdom-updates thingy [that you should read btw] because they said my point quite clear enough

Now I don't really need to care about those points about bond and relationships and being understood, because I'm dealing with already established canon characters. I'm not some NERD who dabbles with entire casts of ocs who even cares about ocs not me that's for sure ahaahahaahahahahahaahahahahahAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH *cries in my orphaned WTTU fic* AHAHAHA*sobs*DONT FUCKING LOOK AT ME THAT WAY I SWEAR--

/j I love ocs

But the points I do wanna focus on is the idea that characters provide new perspectives on the theme, and that characters growth can be tracked based on their wants, lies, and needs.

So see, themes can be predicted the same as genre/plot because while you can have the same fanfic plots and tropes, theme will always vary!

Sometimes it's a journey of selfworth with Revali! Sometimes it's an exploration of trauma with Link. Sometimes it's about how you deal with the vulnerabilities of love with Mipha. Sometimes there's straight up NOOOO theme, and people just be fucking, and kissing, and baking, and having a good time. And that is totally fine too!

But I'm not a fucking coward.

I'm gonna weave in themes with my plot, because I fucking can.

I'm not a weakling like you.

Do you hear me, 2019 Kip? Do you hear me Demmers? Do you hear me Quill? I'm coming for your ass. You think you're so great, but I'm coming for you. Rest assured that your graves will be as deep as your sculptured pride--

Heeeere is that T-Chart again, plus more!

yyyyyYou might notice that Revali and Link are quite parallel, to paraphrase. Ayoooo, see what I did there? *dabs* I'm a genius. Anywho

They both start off the same way: 100 years ago they were in love and happy. Basically the equivalent of childish naivety. For the first time in their lives, life is whimsical and charming, and they make each other happy. In fact, it's almost a flaw with how they perceive this happiness. But don't worry! It doesn't last long!

You know what happens.

I think the chart is pretty self explanatory. Revali builds walls fast enough to give a republican a wet dream. Meanwhile Link makes every aromantic in the chat groan with his doubled down sentiments in the idea that his chances of being truly happy again are gone.

Now, I can't exactly describe the full on process of the inbetweens, and where Revali and Link are gonna go from here, because...you have to read it for yourself! Heehee...but something I did think was fun was how these character views on the themes are revealed. Because you'll notice that, I never give exposition. Ever.

Ok well, let me rephrase that. I never give exposition scenes. I will never give you a big LOTR fancy wizard scene explaining the ins and outs of a character's question or the world's magic or whatever. I'm a very impatient Kip, and I value efficiency. Nonono, it's all about multi tasking, baby!

Chapter 1: Holes is divided into three parts.

Post 100 Years - Medoh (Establishes Ghost Rev/Bonk Head Link's view)

100 Years Ago - Flight Range (Establishes old Revalink views)

Post 100 years - Mark (Develops Ghost Rev/Bonk Head Link's view in contrast to who they once were)

I think the way that you structure flashbacks is incredible vital, as it's a very quick way to characterize people without having them say stuff like "I used to be like you, until I took an arrow to the knee" or whatever.

And with the main structure of the chapters and the fic as a whole is focus on their characters, that means I can hide whatever other stuff I want in those scenes, becuase you're too busy absorbing the fun character stuff to realizing I'm giving you boring exposition. Like for example:

Post 100 Years - Medoh and Mark

Foreshadowing for the end of the fic

Set up connection to Medoh with Revali

Link has defeated Windblight

Link has been visiting Revali every night for the past few days

Link has already met Kass and presumably Teba

Link doesn't have the Mastersword

Revali's Gale is still an ability that needs master and practice on Link's end

And that's just some of the stuff.

And see, the only reason I can efficiently give all of this information regarding character, and even exposition, is because of the theme. The themes make everything relevant, and everything circles and encompasses one another, so there's absolutely no wasted space. I mean don't even get me started on how it's gonna be to characterize the other characters around this

I don't wanna talk about the other characters too much either because that's spoilers, but you can probably take a gandar based on my notes.

And oh my god this is just on the theme of the faults that come with "soulmates" and "true love" and all that, and how even magical destined relationships still require work and effort, and that no one thing or person solves all your problems. And that's not even TOUCHING the shit on trauma and scars. I didn't think it was even possible for me to talk about botw without touching on that, ha. Ah well, I've been talking for too long.

Revalink has a lot o' writing potential so das pretty cool yeah, I am excite

#revalink #paraphrase revalink #writing

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trainwiz · 3 years

Note

Can I get an overview of the Underspace races again?

For sure my compatrionion.

So first we've got the Vauldwin. Elongated floating rubbery humanoids, they might look human but oh my friend they are not.

They've over fifty different sexes and their reproductive rituals are so utterly inanely complicated that it's lead to a culture that doesn't like to take risks and has a deep focus on family, nobility, and lineage. They think of themselves as artisans, diplomats, writers, and princes, not starchasers and traders. Theirs is a society of circumstance and tradition, and though superficially ruled by a senate, the real power lies in the Thirteen High Houses, old families descended from their last real king. The Vauldwin like to think of themselves as the most civilized of races, having invented swords, sunglasses, and chairs. Look deeper into their history though, and you'll find a race that, despite their claims of abhorring risking their own lives, have a very violent penchant for taking the lives of others.

Across the galaxy are the Ijuni. I'll sum it up for you: Scottish capitalist space lobsters.

The Ijuni are... strange. They possess a form of opt-in racewide telepathy that has no filter, acting more as a public forum and announcement system where everyone in the network can hear everyone else. In a culture where everyone is struggling to get their voices heard, they've become a weirdly unified and spiritual but highly individualistic race whose lives revolve around the practice of "Hiano", literally meaning "to covet". Ijuni are raised communally (families are fraternal) and instead spend their lives achieving some sort of materialistic goal, with no real qualms about doing anything to achieve that. They're mercenaries, traders, and soldiers of the galaxy, and the greatest and riches of them never stop growing, eventually becoming city-sized monsters that live deep beneath the oceans of their homeworld. These are the Largeboys, the great oligarchs that rule and direct Ijuni society.

Head deep in the icy nebula known as the Marren and you'll find the Macrovari. They're not robots, in truth they're a race of hyper intelligent, hyper individualistic single-celled organisms who use robotic suits to interact with the larger world.

Incredibly and naturally skilled at just about anything they put their minds too, the same magic that gives them their intelligence also makes them fly into a homicidal rage when in close proximity to one another. Even distantly, they're cold and hateful towards each other, and Macrovari are utterly incapable of working together (two Macrovari are called an argument, four Macrovari are called a war). Macrovari tend to leave their home systems as soon as they can, while the remaining Macrovari struggle to keep themselves from fighting each other, as well as trying to direct their race towards common interests (which despite their protests, they DO have). Most of the time, they're off serving as the craftsmen and weaponsmiths of the galaxy.

A key factor with the Macrovari is that, provided they don't die, they'll eventually undergo mitosis, splitting off into two new Macrovari that inherit their talents, but not their memories. Squabbles over inheritance happen often in Macrovari space.

And on the last corner of the galaxy are the Ballden. Goofy and highly religious, they are a race of hiveminds. That is to say, each Ballden individual is made up of thousands of beings that contribute to their greater whole.

Each Ballden hivemind initially swells to a population of thousands, before they're loaded into cryogenic caskets to prevent their uncontrollable individuals from further expanding and draining resources. They're skilled at working en masse, and as such Ballden are master shipbuilders, terraformers, and architects.

As mentioned, the Ballden are deeply religious, and their faith revolves around the glorification and reverence of beings known as Denmenvani, a race of sentient suns whom they claim created them. Of course, they're absolutely right about this, and the Denmenvani have both a political and social media presence in the galaxy, and the star that their homeworlds orbit is in fact, the chief architect of their existence. She also runs an advice column.

These four races make up what we call the Union, a vast interstellar military alliance that serves to keep civilization surviving and thriving. They build highways, jumpgates, and most importantly, commission Starchasers to fight back against storms.

Outside of the Union there are a few races though.

Deep within the hellish, permanently enstormed nebula known as the Veil are the Veilers. They're an organic race, but their hellish home has lead them to live their entire lives in nine foot tall, pollution spewing hellish mechanical suits.

Living in what is basically space hell for so long left their society a militarized mess. Everyone serves, everything serves, and everyone survives. Culture, art, and diplomacy are stagnant, consumed by their vast military machine.

But don't assume they're evil. Their situation was one of survival, and upon learning that the Veil was not infinite and that they were not alone in the galaxy, the Veilers became desperate for alliances, friendships, romance. Their vast resources let them construct a tollway through the previously impassable Veil, which has made them very rich, and contact with other races has led them to realize there's more to life than surviving, as they're discovering things like music, love, and cheese.

Of unrelated note is that Veiler females outnumber their males 10-1. And they all have cute British accents.

Contrasting the Veilers are the majestic, graceful, and utterly foul-mouthed crystalline aliens known as the Ast.

Initially the Union mistook them for a race of rogue robots, and firebombed their planet. The Ast were not happy about this. But the Ast are never happy, or sad. In fact, the only emotion the Ast can feel is endless righteous fury. Their race is a highly philosophical one, with an emphasis on choice and freedom. Swear-laden, screaming freedom. Majestic cities, grandiose oceans, and beautiful ships contrast the fact that their national anthem contains the word "motherfucker" fifty one times in the first stanza alone. They don't sleep, eat, reproduce (Ast form naturally in remote glacial beaches on their homeworld), and the only thing they can do is drink copious amounts of alcohol. Despite this, many claim that while Ast might be angry, they are not violent, and often stick up for and use their resources to defend the downtrodden and hopeless.

Finally, the race we don't have a model for are the Us (rhymes with Foos, like foosball table).

A race of sentient fungi, they require corpses to move, exist, and reproduce. They tend to make their lives as the morticians and scavengers of the galaxy, collecting the dead of other races and preserving them. Though pacifist and amiable by nature, other races regard them with suspicion, a fact that hasn't prevented them from establishing the Deadstation, neutral meeting areas that also serve as galactic necropolises and trade centers.

#Underspace #game development #LORE #video games

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prettywordsyouleft · 3 years

Text

The Cowboy - Part 10

Summary: Leaving the city for a rural area called Blayne seemed simple enough. Your task was to convince the people to agree with selling their land for a resort redevelopment. But once there, you soon realise that your city ways are entirely different to theirs. Winning their trust was going to take some effort, and when you start to fall for a local cowboy, you wonder if you really needed Blayne more than the city life after all.

Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x female reader

Genre: cowboy au / drama / romance / if you squint there’s some enemies to lovers up in here.

Warnings: Jung Jaehyun is a cowboy, need I say more? (a bit of angst and drama, and it sometimes might feel like you’re reading a Nicolas Sparks book, so I’m told lol) -- swearing, and I’ve never been to a rodeo in real life so I probably didn’t make a fully realistic scene, so don’t hate me, it’s fiction lol

Word count: 2281

This series will be updated every Thursday and Friday.

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

It truly was another world. The country music was playing live from the stage nearby and the endless row of stalls selling assortments from horse gear to food overstimulated you. You had lost Avery in the crowd, the tall man crossing paths with a group of women from high school.

Jaehyun smirked. “He’s always been the popular one.”

“And you the troublemaker?” you offered and Jaehyun laughed, shaking his head.

“You’re the troublemaker. How do you propose I deal with worrying about you when I’m warming up Trickster soon? Maybe you should come with me.”

“I’ll be fine exploring whilst you do that. I’ve seen you ride so much now, I’m convinced your butt is a perfect shape to mold to any saddle seat.”

“Well, you should know, having seen my butt how many times now?”

“Jaehyun!” you gasped, slapping his upper arm and looking around yourselves. You relaxed, realising you saw no familiar faces nearby.

He seemed to read your mind. “Avery knows about us. He’s helping me out by keeping his mother clueless.”

“Would anyone else come from Blayne today?” you asked, and Jaehyun shook his head.

“Not really. It’s more so people from the town over that will. And whilst you’re a household name in Blayne, you’re not on familiar terms yet with others. Which means…”

“Which means?” you repeated, grinning when Jaehyun reached for your hand, interlocking your fingers. You looked down at the gesture. “I felt that tremble, Jaehyun.”

“What tremble?” he feigned innocence for only a moment. “Maybe I have some butterflies about today. I want this to go well.”

“It will. I know it will.”

“Because I have your support?” he teased, and you shook your head, trying not to roll your eyes.

“Because it’s a passion of yours. I can tell you want this opportunity.”

“It would be real nice. Joey told me if I qualify, he can help me with the training. I’ll need to find extra time to do it, maybe travel to his barn a few times a week for evening training but it’s doable.”

“You’re so cute, you know that?” you said, recycling one of Jaehyun’s lines. He picked up on it and laughed. “I like seeing you this hopeful.”

“I’m hopeful about us too.”

“You are?”

“If I win today, my Dad will be pretty chuffed. Maybe we could tell him about us.”

“No more acting like teenagers over this. We’re grown adults, Jaehyun. Regardless of if you win or not, let’s tell him. I’m planning on meeting with him on Thursday for my business proposition, so if that goes well, I doubt he’ll have any concerns about us.”

“This is my Dad we’re talking about. There’s a whole lot about him, about us, that you don’t know.”

“Are you hiding someone in the attic?!” you asked, gasping dramatically. Jaehyun rolled his eyes. “You’ve got an entirely different life kept behind closed doors? How about being the culprit to-”

“Here you two are,” Avery interrupted, eyeing your linked hands with high interest. “Is this why you wanted to come today, Y/N? Away from the prying Blayne eyes, you can finally go on a date with your beau?”

“A date?” you pondered before looking up at Jaehyun. He grinned. “We’ve been on a few of those already in Blayne.”

“And no one knows that you two are together? Woah, I’m impressed with how well you’ve covered them up.”

“Not for long,” Jaehyun announced and you smiled happily, nodding in agreement. “But I am mighty glad you’re back, Avery. Can you keep an eye on this one? I’m sure if left to her own devices, some of the sellers in the market here will have her pulling out money she doesn’t need to spend.”

“You’re insulting my judgment so easily!” you called after Jaehyun’s departing back.

Avery grinned. “Well, you chose him over me. I’ve been doubtful of your taste this whole time.”

“Avery McConnell?”

Spinning to see another woman approach you both, you grinned. “He’s all yours. I’m going to go watch from the stadium.”

An hour had passed by, and you were struggling with the concept of being at a rodeo. On one hand, it was thrilling to watch but also reckless. You knew there was a danger behind the sport, as there was with most sports. But you didn’t realise how easy it was to fall off at this calibre of competition.

You gasped as a young girl, no older than fifteen hit into a barrel and her horse was deep in the turn, losing its footing and the pair fell, the horse landing on top of her. With bated breath, you watched as she managed to get back to her feet, albeit with an evident hobble.

“Your first time?” an older woman asked knowingly, and you nodded. “Not from around here?”

“Originally from the city,” you admitted sheepishly, and the woman laughed.

“Called that by a mile.”

“Do I stand out that much?”

“You’re no country pumpkin like me, that’s for sure.”

“Ah.” You looked her over and smiled. “I think you’re lovely.”

“I wasn’t meaning how we look, love. You’re here to support your boyfriend, aren’t you?”

“How did you know?”

“And he’ll come out here soon, and you’ll be the type to cheer. Don’t. It’s really tacky and could throw him off. Do you even know what barrel racing is about?”

“Some. There’s three barrels, and you have to make it through the sequence with the fastest time and without touching them.”

“It’s a dangerous sport. The horses are trained athletes. It might be all over in fifteen to seventeen seconds, but during that time, it’s a race against their life. They need to move without any issue, carry the weight of their rider perfectly, and dig deep to get around and then gallop off again. And the riders are just as focused. It’s more than just a sequence. Everything counts.”

“Wow, and he had a chance to go pro for this?”

She laughed loudly then. “All cowboys will tell you that, sweetie. Who are you rooting for?”

“Jung Jaehyun,” you mentioned and her amused expression dropped, scooting closer to you. Leaning back from her sudden invasion of your space, you laughed weakly. “Is that a problem?”

“Oh, he’s good. He’s back on the circuit? He took time off ever since the fire. I didn’t think he’d be back to this level.”

“What fire?”

“Blayne’s fire,” she replied, her eyes now peeled to the catalogue, checking out Jaehyun’s details. She gasped. “Joey Newman’s horse?! He didn’t come to mess around today.”

You smiled politely at the woman, slipping into your thoughts. You knew this was a big thing for Jaehyun, but was he that big of a deal in this world? The new information explained the nerves, but he had downplayed this to you all day long. The barrel racing was one of the last sports on the schedule for this rodeo, and for hours beforehand, Jaehyun had assured you it was like a training event. Yet, this woman now had you believing otherwise.

“Can I ask something?” you enquired, coming out of your reverie and the blonde woman nodded. “What happens if he makes the top five today?”

“He’ll be scouted. Perhaps he already is getting calls. He held the fastest time for five years straight in this region. Everyone wanted a piece of him before his father pulled him out.”

“Pulled him out?” you breathed, blinking rapidly. “Why did he-?”

“How about you ask your cowboy that you’re having a fling with all about it, once he’s done racing the clock, if you have further questions.”

“It’s not a fling,” you corrected and she smiled sadly at you.

“Darl, I was dating Billy Burke. You might not know that name but everyone around here did. He went pro, won the Nationals and become a million dollars richer.”

“A million dollars?!”

She shrugged. “I was pregnant with his baby at the time he got offered to go pro. We were supposed to get married. But, you know, it was his dream to go pro. When given the choice between love and the race, he chose the latter. So what if he has money? He has all that fame now too. All I have is his kid who hasn’t met his Daddy once. Let me warn you, cowboys might charm you with their country hospitality but they all have bigger goals than the farms they run back home. Once Jaehyun is given the chance, he’ll forget that Blayne even exists.”

“I doubt that,” you defended. “I’m sorry to hear of your circumstances, and even if Jaehyun and I end, I can confirm Blayne means more to him than-”

“You really don’t know what he did to Blayne, do you?” Pity for you emerged in her eyes. “What do you know aside from his body then?”

Getting up, you stormed out from the bleachers you had been sitting upon, feeling foolish for being so worked up by a stranger. Before you could leave, however, Avery leapt up towards you and clapped his hands together. “He’s next up. Where are you going?”

“Oh, I uh, need fresh air.”

“Worried about him falling off? Don’t be. He’s the best here today, you’re about to see it. No one else can go from being a farmhand to a decent barrel racer without practising than Jaehyun. Come on, you can get air after his run.”

Nodding numbly, you allowed Avery to push you along, taking a seat again. Avery greeted a few of the people around you, and you watched the horse and rider before you now, finishing their run with ease. You looked to the sidelines, wondering where Jaehyun was.

“I thought you said he was next.”

“He is. He’ll be making his way in any second now.”

The grating voice of the commentator muted as soon as you saw the spotted horse come racing into the arena, your eyes peeled on the pair heading towards their first barrel. Clasping your hands together, you watched on intensely, praying Jaehyun and Trickster would make it around safely.

The woman had been right. It was a sport that relied on precision and speed. You had always considered a minute to be such a short period of time, but as the seconds went by, you found yourself changed. Every second counted now.

Jaehyun and Trickster rounded the final barrel and galloped to the exit, Avery’s screams and sudden shaking your arm jostled you out of the blur that had been your vision towards the end.

Fifteen seconds was all it took to give you clarity on your feelings.

“He made it! That lucky son of a bitch!” Avery rejoiced, and you stood up jarringly, walking down the aisle to the exit. Avery was still full of energy at your side. “He’ll be cooling Trickster down, Y/N. Come this way to the holding pen.”

You followed along in a slight daze, your heart thumping with the thoughts within your head. You disregarded all the information, the warnings that stranger had given you. When you saw Jaehyun walking the heavily breathing animal around and patting his neck, you almost broke into a run to reach the side of the pen faster.

Noticing your arrival, Jaehyun grinned and walked the horse over. “Well, what did you think?”

“I think I’m in love you,” you announced sincerely.

“After seeing only one run?!” Avery joked, but Jaehyun’s expression grew serious, not shifting away from yours even as he continued to walk the horse around.

Distractedly, Jaehyun called out for the groom of Joey’s ranch and dismounted, walking over to you and ducking under the metal bar that separated you from him. “You mean what you say?”

You nodded, choking on the sudden emotions that had come with your confession.

“You can’t take it back after I give you this chance, Y/N. You mean it?”

“I love you,” you repeated, and that was all it took for Jaehyun to crash his lips upon yours.

There was no thought to the professionals around you, nor Avery who had stepped aside to give you albeit a tiny amount of privacy. You didn’t care at all who watched you lock lips with Jaehyun right now.

Because it felt right.

You hadn’t expected to arrive in Blayne and find yourself looking in different directions for your life. It had always been well-planned out. You would build your career and work hard during these years, so when you had achieved all you set out for you could relax into love and create a family.

The country didn’t work like that. The values were so different from what you had experienced in your fast-paced life. And now that you had been given the opportunity to slow down a little, to take in the world outside of an office and not be attached to a screen day in and out, you were finding your desires were changing too.

You liked the idea of waking up in someone’s arms and falling asleep whispering sweet nothings to one another. During those fifteen seconds, you imagined your life without Jaehyun in it, and it made you want to do absolutely everything in your power to remain at his side.

You meant the love confession. You had never spoken of love to another person before. It was liberating, fulfilling. As Jaehyun burned his lips into yours, you knew he felt the same.

It hadn’t been long between you. But this summer romance was shaping your world more than you believed it had for his parents all those years ago.

You couldn’t imagine going back to the city now.

_________________

Part 11

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sunsetcurve · 3 years

Text

learn to love without consuming (1/4)

fandom: knight squad relationships: arc / ciara, minor or one-sided arc / oc and ciara / oc word count: 4,603

a/n: eek. it's finally here. if you follow me here you know that i've been working on this for a few weeks (months?), but the idea has been sitting in my drafts for basically forever. almost since i watched the show to begin with. the recent resurgence of the ks fandom prompted me to dig this back up and gave me the motivation to actually try and finish, because fuck it! i love my babes and i want more of them.

so quick note is that this picks up pretty soon after the season 1 finale but disregards basically,,, everything that happens in s2. s1 and the finale proceed the same way except prudy never finds out ciara's secret, so she and warwick don't know at the moment. this chapter was initially gonna have more scenes that drove the plot/romance arc but once i got upwards of 6k with a few major scenes left i decided it would be best if i split the chapter up, so for now it’s just a lot of me trying to work around the convoluted knight squad lore to establish my own. i know that's not exactly what everyone is here for, but i promise things on the romance/action front will pick up soon. i'll place warnings as detailed as i can get without spoiling in the tags and notes as i go, but just anticipate fairly significant violence by chapter 3.

anyway! i have talked enough. the title is from thus always to tyrants by the oh hellos, the rating is t for swearing/violence, there are three more chapters that are in the process of being written, and reviews are like crack as far as i'm concerned. i really hope you like this! thanks for reading <3

dedications: this fic is first and foremost for @ciara-knightly, who is not only my amazing beta but also the whole reason this fic exists. she helped me so so much with the development of the plot and worked through it with me even way before i decided to really start writing it, and i wouldn’t have been able to do this without her. all of the notes she left after beta-reading were so so helpful and really made this whole fic make sense so basically i owe her my entire life. she inspires me to be a better writer all the time and i love her. everyone say thank you shona!!! also tagging my lovely friends and some people who have expressed interest, who are in no way obligated to read this; @juliesdahlias @mistyskiesrambles @dr-rigatoni @willexs @taylorswiftrulestheworld @onplanetmars @neshatriumphs @zackmartin @julies-molinas @soni-dragon @yagorlemmalyn @hopefulbeautifulfool @cactus-con @waterisntreal @onetwothreefarkle @bitchmilsky

summary: “Now that Ryker isn’t a threat anymore, the councils are supposed to resume as planned, and Astoria is set to hold the first one two weeks from now.”

“Okay,” he says slowly. “That sounds exciting.”

Ciara nods. “It is! I finally get to meet some of the other nobility, and actually get to be involved in Astorian politics for once. But my dad won’t let me go without an escort,” she says, and then hesitates. “Which is where you come in.”

read it on ao3

The morning before training that day, Arc is testing his skills against a heavy bronze padlock when Ciara enters the squad room and drops a brown paper bag on the table in front of him.

“These,” she announces as he raises an eyebrow at her, “are for you.”

He pulls open the package and is instantly greeted with a rush of warmth and the smell of vanilla. “Dragon puffs?” he says, half in awe. It’s a clear bribe, but he can’t help but shove a sugar-coated sweet in his mouth anyway. They’re an Astorian original and possibly the best thing he’s ever tasted; he’d tried them once at a bakery near the castle and hasn’t stopped thinking about them since.

“Okay, what do you want?” he says then, words muffled around the cream and pastry.

Ciara pulls a face at his manners, but still manages to blink innocently at him. “Can’t I just do something nice for a friend?” she tries, but it’s half-hearted.

He swallows and grins at her. “Nice try, Princess. Your dessert deliveries always come with an ulterior motive.”

Huffing a sigh, she sits down next to him. There’s this subtle air of anticipation lingering around her, one he can only sense based on how in tune they are after so long of being teammates. The two of them have this easy way of reading each other now; they’ve been spending more and more time together, something having shifted in their dynamic after the battle against Ryker. He can’t quite place what it is, but he knows it’s only brought them closer. “Do you know what the Council of the Five Kingdoms is?” she asks finally.

He shrugs. “Sure. Nobles from each kingdom used to have a big ball every year to talk trading and politics and other boring stuff…”

“Except there hasn’t been a council since Ryker’s invasion, because the kingdoms have been isolated and preoccupied with their own safety,” she finishes for him. Her fingers tug at the lacing of her leather gauntlets; she’s nervous, but he still isn’t sure why. “Now that Ryker isn’t a threat anymore, the councils are supposed to resume as planned, and Astoria is set to hold the first one two weeks from now.”

“Okay,” he says slowly. “That sounds exciting.”

Arc chokes on his second dragon puff. “You want me to be your escort,” he says flatly, once he’s finished coughing, “to the Council of the Five Kingdoms?” Normally he’d jump at the chance to spend a night dressing up and eating castle food. But the council is a decidedly different scene; there’s a set of formalities, politics underlying everything, and too many chances for him to expose his lack of knowledge when it comes to Astorian customs. Not to mention that Catalias’ royals will be there. He doesn’t know if he can stomach looking them in the face, knowing what they did to Seagate.

Ciara grimaces. “Look, I know it’s not exactly your thing, but my dad won’t let me go alone. And this really means a lot to me.” Her eyes are pleading, and Arc feels his resolve chipping away.

“Can’t one of your actual guards go with you?” he tries. “Or, Prudy or Warwick or someone?”

“I’ve already talked to my dad about it,” she explains. “You’re the only Knight School student he’d let protect me, because you already proved you could when Ryker invaded. Besides, if something were to happen…you’re the one person who knows I can handle myself as Ciara.”

There’s this brief stretch of silence where Arc works his bottom lip, and Ciara looks as though she’s debating something. “Also,” she adds finally, with the soft flicker of a hesitant smile, “I thought it might be fun to go with you.”

Arc blinks at her, caught off guard by the admission. There’s this sudden buzz in his chest that he can’t push away; in truth, he doesn’t like the idea of her spending the night with someone else either. Maybe, by some miracle, this will actually be a good thing. “Alright,” he relents. “I’ll be your escort.”

Ciara’s face breaks into a grin. “Yes! Thank you!” She throws her arms around him, and he’s shock-stilled, a rush of warmth flooding through him as he hugs her back. When she pulls away, her eyes are shining with excitement. “Okay, I’ve gotta go tell my dad you said yes, and there’s a million things to do, but I’ll see you at training later. You are the best.”

“I expect dragon puffs for life!” Arc calls after her as she disappears through her passageway. He leans back into the couch, lightheaded, and in that moment, he realizes abruptly that there’s almost nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

And he is so completely screwed.

Two weeks later, Arc is standing outside Ciara’s bedroom, waiting for her to finish getting ready.

It feels odd to be out here in the open. Generally his visits to her chamber are accompanied by an air of secrecy, but tonight, he’s a guest in the castle. He’s dressed like it, too, decked out in the guards’ typical formal wear: pressed brown pants, a white shirt laced up the front, and a navy leather jacket trimmed in gold, with Astoria’s crest on one shoulder. He looks kind of dashing, honestly.

Despite the confidence boost his new look offers him, his hand keeps drifting to the hilt of his sword. It’s sheer force of habit; he only associates this brewing sense of apprehension with battle, and his muscles are responding in kind. He’s glad, at least, that he turned down the other guards’ offer to lend him one of their ceremonial blades and instead has the familiarity of his own. Hopefully he won’t need it, but it’s a steadying presence all the same.

“Almost ready!” Ciara calls from inside, and Arc carefully unclenches his fingers from around the leather grip of his sword. He has to keep it together tonight; she’s made it clear how much this means to her. The last thing he wants to do is embarrass her in front of nobles from all five kingdoms.

Well, four, he reminds himself. Seagate won’t be attending. There isn’t anyone left to represent them.

The thought makes his stomach twist.

He’s saved from having to dwell on it by the sound of Ciara’s door unlatching. “Better prepare yourself, Princess,” he teases, leaning against the wall, “I look pretty good, and the last thing we want is for you to get too smitten—”

He breaks off as she emerges from the doorway, all the air in his lungs leaving in a sudden rush. He’s trying hard not to be the cliche of a guy scraping his jaw off the floor at the sight of a pretty girl in a dress, especially not like this, with Ciara—but he can’t help but think that it’s ridiculously unfair of her to come out looking like that. Her dress is a pale blue, falling gently off her shoulders and cinching at her waist, and her tight curls are weaved with strands of gold and tied into a low knot, some of them falling loose to frame her face. There’s a crown of gold leaves and rosebuds settled in her hair.

“You...um…” Arc searches for his voice, “you look amazing.” His mouth feels dry.

Ciara smirks and reaches up to adjust the collar of his uniform. “You don’t look so bad yourself. I’m definitely smitten,” she jokes, like it’s nothing for them to be flirting openly. It should be nothing. Except his skin burns where her fingers brush against his neck, and he suddenly wonders if she can hear his heart pounding.

He clears his throat. “We should probably get to the ballroom.”

She nods. “Give me your arm,” she says, looking at him expectantly. When he raises an eyebrow, she continues, “You’re my escort, remember?”

“Oh, right.” He lifts his arm obligingly, his cheeks warm.

“I really wish we’d had more time to go over Astorian customs,” she breathes as she takes it, more to herself than anything. “Between training and helping with preparations, I’ve been so busy…” His nerves must show on his face, then, because she squeezes his arm gently and amends, “Sorry. You’ll be fine, don’t worry. Just stay close to me, okay?”

“Not a problem,” he grins without missing a beat, and Ciara scoffs and shoves him, the smile tugging at her mouth taking all the bite away from it.

They can do this, he thinks. The two of them have kept up appearances for each other for months now, have fought and trained and battled Ryker together. They’re Arc and Ciara, unstoppable duo. One little party should be nothing.

As they make their way down the hall towards the ballroom, flanked by guards, Ciara lowers her voice. “When we get there, most of the nobles should be inside already. The herald will announce my father first, then us, and then each of the other three kingdoms. We’ll be beside the thrones as they come in—you’ll stand by me, left side—and once they’ve all been announced, we can leave the thrones and mingle. Bow to each of the rulers as they come by.”

They had, at least, practiced his bow. Arc swallows back the dread in his throat; all he has to do is stand beside her and greet the other royals, it’s easy enough. For a moment, they linger outside the entrance to the ballroom, until an official-sounding voice announces the King. “We’re next,” Ciara whispers to him, eyes glinting with excitement. “You ready?”

He nods back at her, and the voice calls, “Accompanied by Sir Arc...Princess Angelica of Astoria!” They step into the ballroom, greeted with applause. Arc doesn’t think he’s ever been in a place this lavish; the walls are white, accented in deep gold, and the floors are polished to a gleam. The ceiling looks hand-painted, ornately decorated in constellations and swirling designs, and crystal chandeliers dangle over their heads, casting a golden glow over the whole room. He tries not to look too awe-struck.

They make their way to the platform on which the thrones rest, Ciara nodding and smiling and waving at the other nobles as they pass. She stands next to her father, and Arc takes his place on her other side, placing his hands behind his back and trying, for all the world, to look like he belongs there. He wonders suddenly if he’s stood too close to her, and if it would make things worse for him to shift over now, and if his indecision is showing on his face—

And then, almost imperceptibly and hidden from the ballroom’s view by the folds of her dress, Ciara reaches over and links her pinky with his. It’s a tiny gesture, a friendly reassurance, but Arc feels a tide of warmth swell in his chest all the same. He lets his gaze flit to her for just a moment, and her lips are graced with a small smile as she tugs his finger gently.

His breath hitches, and he fights to keep his face a passive neutral as the herald announces the next kingdom and he turns his attention back to the doorway.

“Presenting King Hugo, Queen Luciana, and their son Prince Isaac of Catalias!”

Arc’s stomach turns as the couple enters, trailed by their son, all three of them swathed in lavish red and gold. Their reputation precedes them; he knows little about the prince, but the king and queen are infamous for their hoarding of wealth, their favorance of the rich nobles and landowners of their kingdom over the common people. Arc knows them best for what they had done to Seagate.

His hand twitches for his sword, but he fights against the instinct.

True to form, the two have a haughty look about them, all starched clothes and stiff smiles as they bow to Ciara and the King. The two of them return the greeting with Arc following their lead—grudgingly.

“I am so pleased you could join us tonight,” the King smiles, a little tight-lipped. “It is high time that Astoria and Catalias united again.”

King Hugo nods back. “I couldn’t agree more. The honor is ours.”

Arc detects a veiled sort of tension between the two of them, hidden well underneath the cordial formalities. He glances at Isaac, whose eyes are trained intently on Ciara even as he and his parents move to greet the other guests. Something about it is unsettling.

He’s so focused on Isaac that he almost misses the herald’s announcement of the next kingdom. “Queen Damyanti, and her children Princess Aadhya and Prince Kavan of Khurjan!”

Queen Damyanti is the picture of elegance, draped in silver silk that almost seems to glow against her dark skin. Aadhya looks around fifteen, with the same deep eyes and regal expression, and Kavan must be ten or so. He grins toothily as the three of them approach the thrones and bow.

The King’s expression is much warmer now. “Queen Damyanti. It has been too long. I trust Khurjan is doing well?”

“Not quite as well as Astoria, perhaps,” she replies, and it’s teasing, no sharpness to it. “This ball is absolutely lovely. Princess Angelica, you look so beautiful. Just like your mother. I was so sorry to hear of her passing.”

Ciara’s eyes go soft. “Thank you, Queen Damyanti,” she nods back. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you.”

“You as well. It’s a shame your sister couldn’t make it, but hopefully we’ll all gather again soon.” She gives a small, departing nod and joins the rest of the nobles, Aadhya giving them a bright-eyed smile and Kavan waving enthusiastically as they follow her. Ciara laughs.

“And finally...King Jesper of Vysalt!”

Arc is confused for a moment; he wonders if he had remembered the name of Vysalt’s king wrong. Then a young man with a head of dark curls and a smattering of freckles against tawny brown skin enters, his crown just slightly crooked. His eyes are wide and dark, and a jagged, white scar cuts across his cheekbone. He can’t be much older than they are.

“He’s the king?” Arc whispers to Ciara under his breath as Jesper makes his way over to them. “How old is he?”

Her expression twists a little in sympathy. “Seventeen. He wasn’t supposed to inherit the throne so soon. His parents were killed when Ryker’s army took over his kingdom.”

Arc isn’t sure what to say to that. He knows what it’s like to lose everything to Ryker—he can picture the flames every time he shuts his eyes. But he hadn’t known about Vysalt or the fate of its royals. They had been close allies with Seagate at one point, one of the only other kingdoms without much wealth, and their king and queen had been known for their generosity.

Somehow Arc had thought the damage had been done to Seagate alone, but now he wonders how the other kingdoms fared, if they suffered just as much. If any of them came out as unscathed as Astoria did.

“Your Majesties,” Jesper says as he bows, and there’s a note of pity in the King’s expression as he returns the gesture. Arc can only imagine how he feels about someone so close to his daughter’s age having to run a kingdom on his own.

“King Jesper. How are you doing?”

It’s a more personal question than he had asked the other royals, Arc notes. Jesper smiles easily; it’s soft, highlights his deep dimples and makes his dark eyes glimmer. “Well, thank you. Vysalt is recovering with time. As am I,” he adds, voice quieting for a moment.

The King nods back. “That’s good to hear. Let us know if there’s anything Astoria can do to help.”

Something flickers in Jesper’s expression, hard to read and gone so quickly that Arc wonders if he imagined it. The young king bows again before moving to join the others, but not before he catches Arc’s eye and smiles warmly. It surprises him—the other royals had hardly given him a second glance—but he returns it with one of his own. Beside him, Ciara lifts an eyebrow, her expression a mixture of amusement and something else he can’t place.

“What?” he asks quietly, and she shakes her head, glancing away.

“Nothing.”

He wants to pry, but the King is clearing his throat, getting ready to address the room. The chatter dies down as all eyes turn to him.

“My fellow Astorians,” he says in his deep, booming voice, sounding more formal than Arc has ever heard him, “and my guests from our neighboring kingdoms...I am honored to welcome you to our castle, and so pleased that we could all be in attendance tonight.”

Not all of us, Arc thinks, but no word of Seagate comes up.

The King continues, “For decades, our kingdoms have been isolated and divided by Ryker’s armies. We have long suffered under his forces, but his threat is gone for good. Thus, tonight is more than a council; it is a symbol of our victory, a symbol of our unity as we move forward and rebuild. So enjoy yourselves! After all, we have so much to celebrate!”

To Arc, the sentiment feels hollow. He got his revenge, and of course he’s glad that Ryker can’t hurt anyone else, but it doesn’t change the fact that Seagate is in ruins. It feels suddenly difficult to celebrate with the weight of his village’s absence lingering in the air around him. The rest of the partygoers don’t seem to share his hesitance, though; the room breaks into applause and cheers, several of the guests raising their goblets jovially.

Ciara gives him a subtle nudge, jolting him out of his thoughts. “Now we get to mingle,” she grins, leading him off the throne platform and towards the crowd.

He follows dutifully as she heads toward the table where the other kingdoms’ royals have gathered, Astoria’s king staying behind to greet the other royals. Queen Damyanti is in conversation with King Hugo and Queen Luciana, but she doesn’t seem entirely pleased about it, and Jesper and Kavan are laughing at something Aadhya has said. Isaac hovers next to them, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. He has his father’s golden hair and clear blue eyes, but the frown on his face is entirely his mother’s.

It disappears, though, the moment he sees Ciara approaching them. “Princess Angelica,” he greets her, with a little too much enthusiasm for Arc’s liking, “I’m so honored to finally meet you. You’re even more radiant in person.” Before she can say anything, he takes her hand and kisses it swiftly. Arc narrows his eyes.

Ciara gives a forced-sounding chuckle and curtseys, pulling her hand back. “Thank you, Prince Isaac. I’m glad you could make it. Allow me to introduce Sir Arc, my guard and escort for the night.”

Arc bows—and if he never has to bow to another pompous royal again, he thinks, it’ll be too soon—and Isaac offers him a dismissive sort of half-smile. Any further interaction they would’ve had then is thankfully avoided by the other royals noticing Ciara’s arrival.

“Hi, Princess Angelica!” Aadhya says brightly, with a neat little dip of a curtsey, “I’m Aadhya.” When Ciara and Arc begin to return the gesture, she waves her hand with a tiny scoff. “Oh, you don’t have to do that. Formalities. Just come sit.” She returns to her chair and pats the seat next to her, and Arc decides right there that he likes her.

Ciara takes the offered chair, and Arc takes the only other open spot, in between her and King Jesper. As Ciara launches into conversation with Aadhya, Jesper turns to him.

“Hi,” he says, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’m Jesper.”

Arc bites back a laugh at the unnecessary introduction. “I know who you are, Your Highness,” he replies lightly.

“I know. I was just trying to give you an opening to tell me who you are.”

Oh. That’s unexpected. There’s no prerogative behind his words, no assertion; Jesper’s grin is almost bashful, his voice easy and bright. He doesn’t sound like a king, just a seventeen-year-old boy trying to flirt. Arc can’t help but return his smile.

“I’m Arc,” he says. “Normally I’m a student at Knight School, but I’m the princess’s guard and escort for the night.”

“Wait,” Aadhya pauses her conversation with Ciara to lean over and look at him, “You’re the Arc who defeated Ryker?”

“I helped,” Arc says with a shrug, and the princess’s eyes go wide. She turns to Ciara.

“Were you there too?”

“I was—” Ciara pauses for a moment, “hiding. I was hiding. Arc got me to safety.”

He grins a little at her, tongue between his teeth, knowing it must be killing her to hide what she was actually doing. She narrows her eyes and kicks his leg under the table in response, a silent shut up. He lifts his eyebrows, like, I didn’t say anything, and she rolls her eyes in an entirely non-subtle manner.

Across the table, Queen Damyanti is watching their exchange with a raised eyebrow, Arc notices belatedly. She has a mildly amused look on her face, but doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, she states, “Battling Ryker face-to-face must have been quite the experience.”

“What was it like?” Prince Kavan asks eagerly from beside his sister.

Aadhya elbows him. “Kavan,” she hisses, but Arc just grins.

“No worries. It was…” he trails, trying to think of what to say and suddenly aware that all the royals’ eyes are on him. He shifts in his seat. “It was scary, obviously. He had the Armor of Astoria, and a whole army with him, and most of the Astorian knights under his spell. But, y’know. We Knight School students are pretty formidable. We all took him on together. Wouldn’t have been able to do it otherwise. I wasn’t half as scared as I would’ve been without my squadmates watching my back.”

He glances at Ciara, who smiles softly and nudges his foot, gentler this time. Jesper has that same unreadable look on his face and Aadhya has her chin propped in her hand, her expression amazed, but Queen Luciana gives a snide sort of scoff.

“It’s a wonder it took so long to defeat him, then, if a group of students cut him down so easily,” she says. “Perhaps Ryker was never as great a threat as we all made him out to be.”

There’s a cut of silence across the table in which Jesper visibly stiffens. “With all due respect, Queen Luciana, Ryker’s attacks were devastating. Or have you forgotten what happened to my parents?” he demands, without any respect at all. His eyes are blazing.

“I’m merely pointing out that the only real damage done was to the less...fortified kingdoms,” she sniffs. “Ryker only breached Catalias’s walls once, and he was driven out rather quickly.”

“Well, not every kingdom has Catalias’s resources.” Ciara sounds like she’s choosing her words carefully, frustration masked well behind them.

King Hugo gives a huff of a laugh; his blue eyes are cold. “My dear princess, you have no cause for indignation. Astoria lost the least to Ryker, what with your,” he waves a hand, “magic bubble.”

Ciara opens her mouth but falters, brow furrowed, and across the table, Queen Damyanti speaks up. “Nevertheless, Ryker was still a formidable enemy to all of us. We were only prepared for his attacks because he targeted Seagate and Vysalt first. And Seagate’s destruction is a clear example of his power.”

“Oh, even you can’t argue that Seagate was rotting long before Ryker got to it, Damyanti,” Hugo replies swiftly, and Arc’s breath catches in his throat. Queen Damyanti shrugs in agreement, her expression passive; Arc almost stands up, but Ciara’s hand on his leg underneath the table stops him.

“Don’t,” she hisses, just barely loud enough for him to hear, “Let me handle this.”

Though as it turns out, she doesn’t have to. Before she has a chance to speak, Jesper is already bristling, his voice sharp: “As if Seagate’s corruption justifies the destruction of its people?”

“It’s thieves and criminals, you mean?” Isaac scoffs. “Seagate was a wasteland. The kingdoms are better off.”

The words ring in Arc’s ears, alongside the pounding of his blood. They sound painfully similar to what Ryker had said to him on the mountain—rats and thieves, I did the five kingdoms a favor—and he thinks fleetingly that he’s going to be sick. He’s always known that Seagate was looked down on by the other kingdoms, but hearing them say so casually that what happened, the flames and the destruction and all of the death, was deserved—

“The people were only thieves and criminals because Catalias took advantage of them,” Jesper argues. “I hope I don’t have to remind you that it was your government that poured money into the gangs of Seagate for their own profit and allowed them to stage a coup in the first place.”

The words are deadly and cold, but Arc feels a flash of admiration for Jesper; the king has no obligations towards Seagate, and yet defends it like his own. King Hugo’s gaze hardens. “You’re blaming Catalias for Seagate’s problems?” he says with a derisive laugh. “If anything, Ryker’s attacks only revealed that Seagate was a kingdom full of people that weren’t worth saving.”

“That’s enough,” Ciara says abruptly. Her hand tightens on Arc’s leg, and he can no longer tell if he’s the one trembling or if she is. There’s this burning fire behind her eyes; she looks, Arc thinks briefly, the same way she does in battle. “What happened to Seagate was a devastating tragedy, and I won’t let you treat it as otherwise. Those who disagree aren’t welcome here.”

It’s a weighted statement, one she doesn’t entirely have the formal authority to make, but no one dares to contest it. A heavy silence settles over all of them. Arc doesn’t know how long he can sit there with all the heat under his skin; he doesn’t remember when his hand found the hilt of his sword, only that he’s gripping it tight enough that the leather bites into his palm. He wants to stand up and tell them that none of them would be here if it weren’t for him, a thief from Seagate. In truth, the only thing holding him back is Ciara. In a battle between her steady hand and the storm in his chest, she wins without even trying.

He doesn’t say anything or look at her, but her gaze flits to him for a moment and she just knows, standing up. Before she even opens her mouth, Isaac is on his feet too. “Going so soon?” he asks. “Would you care to dance, Princess?”

She looks at him coolly for a moment. “I would, actually.” And then, she turns to Arc, offering him her hand, “Sir Arc, dance with me?”

Arc blinks up at her and takes it as he stands. “Absolutely, Princess,” he says, letting her lead him away from the table and glancing back only long enough to catch the dumbfounded expression on Isaac’s face.

#oop #knight squad #knight squad fanfic #tiara thief #tiara thief fic #writing #my writing #fanfiction #arc #ciara #ks #//umanawrites #learn to love without consuming

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

Note

i stumbled upon ur writing looking for lady d x non-binary reader fics and ur work has just been a godsend i’m obsessed. it’s inspired me to start writing my own even though i’ve never written for fandoms before. i’ve never written for other actual characters before either so i was wondering if u could spare any tips for writing for lady d and her daughters? 🙏🏻

I can certainly try! I'll divide the tips into lil sections for each characters. Might be less tips, more character observations that help me figure out how to write them? Putting under read-more for length. Also! If you ever want someone to look over what you write before you post it, I offer my services! I can't guarantee how fast I can respond, but I've been editing/proof-reading/giving general feedback for my friends for years, with everything from fanfiction to college level essays.

Alcina:

Large and in charge, literally. Regardless of the situation, Lady D wants to stay in control, or at least look like she's in control. Okay, minor exception being anything involving Mother Miranda, since she's the one person Lady D has any real respect for. Otherwise, Alcina maintains a good grasp on any situation, looking for ways to put herself in control.

For example, she often uses her height as a means to establish dominance, even within RE8 canon. If you watch a video of the Four Lords meeting, Alcina stands up once she starts arguing with Heisenberg, towering over him in an attempt to intimidate. We also see the aforementioned exception in this scene, as Lady D sort of "shrinks" a little when Miranda responds.

As much as Lady D wants to be in control, she's not always actually capable of it. In the game, we see her struggle to contain her emotions, and often releases them in outbursts. Such as the infamous vanity throwing scene (god I love that so much). It can provide some nice contrast in scenes, having Lady D be so in control one moment, then as soon as she's behind closed doors she's letting it all out.

Uses the most old-fashioned language out of her whole family. It's kind of hard to describe how one goes about writing this way, but I recommend trying to find some journals that were written in the early 1900's and reading them. Or just some classic novels (not Moby Dick, tho, that one's a bit much, in my opinion). One thing I can say is occasionally swap contractions (can't, don't, I've, etc) for the full version of the word (cannot, do not, I have, etc). Something about that always makes dialogue feel older, though I can't really explain why. Whatever you do, just don't rely too much on using synonyms. Replacing common words with their cousins can make dialogue feel "fancier", but you often run the risk of unintended connotations (feelings, positive or negative, associated with a word) messing with how a text is interpreted.

Puts up a front/facade around most people, as part of her noble background and need for control, with words like "stoic" and "composed" coming to mind. Very rough with troublemakers, no mercy. But!!! So very incredibly soft with her family/loved ones. I've seen some people accuse her of "faking" her love for her daughters, but these people either played a different game than I did, or they can't read emotions as well as I can. Gentle touches when she's checking if her kids are okay, little glances and gentle nods for reassurance, pausing a chase just to help her daughters, etc.

Bela:

Wants to make her mother proud. Legally obligated to make her mother proud, because she's the eldest daughter. Not that I know how that feels, being the younger of two children. Regardless, Bela is the most well behaved of the daughters, even when her mother isn't around. However, she does resent this position to some degree, based on in game dialogue/dialogue files that are in the game but aren't used. Personally, I see her as someone who's willing to let certain things go in exchange for favors/blackmail ammo.

Cleans up after her sisters a fair bit, sometimes literally. Feels responsible for them, to the point where their mistakes are her mistakes, and she's forced to compensate on their behalf. Because of this she ends up complaining a lot, though almost only when her family isn't around.

Still very protective of her family, she simply does most of her protecting behind the scenes. Knows how to manipulate a situation, which she probably learned from her mother, and can be quite convincing when she wants to be. Less likely to use violence to solve a problem than anyone else in the family. Will she use violence if need be, or if someone fucks up enough? Yes, absolutely, but she'll focus more on efficiency than misery (unless someone really fucks up).

Generally speaking she's more eloquent than either of her sisters, though not by much unless she's trying to impress someone (usually her mother).

Cassandra:

Two words: Angry. Horny. To her, they might as well be one word. Horngry. Cassandra struggles with her emotions more than either of her sisters, being a pressure cooker ready to pop basically all the time. It's not hard to set her off, but it can take ages for her to cool back down. Let's her frustration (of any variety) build up until she can bludgeon someone to death with it. Harshest on the servants, and spends the most time toying with others in the dungeon.

Like Bela, Cassandra wants to make her mother proud, but it's less of an obligation and more of a "I'm the middle child and feel like I don't get enough attention" type deal. Is more than willing to stoop to "tattle telling" activities in order to get the attention she craves. Usually sticks to obediently following her mother's orders or hunting down enemies, though.

Bit of an artsy type, and the most likely to take trophies from her victims. Gross ones, usually. Okay, well, that's debatable, but I'm talking about general consensus rather than my specific tastes. Personally, I don't care if she's got some weird blood paintings. Hell, I've got extra blood, and also am clumsy and bleed a lot anyway, she can have mine!

Hides her non-anger emotions as best as she can. Hates talking about her feelings (even if it helps), to the point where it's usually impossible to tell how she's feeling deep down. Remember, anger is a secondary emotion! No one is ever just angry, there's always something else hiding underneath, such as: Sadness, disappointment, loneliness, jealousy, etc. Keep this in mind when you're writing her. Make sure you pinpoint the center of her anger, and hint at it, letting her actions show her true goal.

Swears the most, easily. Tends to speak in shorter sentences than her sisters, and prefers being blunt to being eloquent/flowery.

Daniela:

Love, love, love, love, love, ahhhh deep breath... love. Loves love, or at least what she processes as love. Would do anything for romance. Except she also craves "natural" romance, creating a sort of paradox that adds to her delusions, as she engages in the pursuit of unintentional romance (not to be confused with "The Pursuit of Unintentional Humor", a song that I very, very much enjoy). Wants to be loved for who she is at the same time that she attempts to mold herself into a more lovable shape. Struggles with intimacy, wanting to feel vulnerable without actually being so.

On some level she understands that draining people of their blood, and then drinking said blood, is not equatable to a healthy relationship. But seeing as this is the most common form of supposed "intimacy" that she experiences, she refuses to acknowledge the true nature of what she does. Instead she clings to the idea of "forever bonding" with her partners, pretending that each one is still with her, even when she no longer remembers their names.

Hates being rejected, no matter how gently. "Ugly" cries, but only if she's alone, often turning her pain into anger, just like Cassandra. However, her outbursts don't seem to last as long. In reality, her breakdowns simply occupy the inside of her existence, rather than the outside. Sure, she's giggling and causing chaos, like usual, but on the inside she's breaking a record for most depressing internal monologue.

Reads a ton, but not always "quality" books. Goes through a dozen books or more a week, often rereading her favorites several times, mainly within the romance genre (obvs). This affects her speech a fair amount, making her both cheesy and occasionally smooth as hell.

#j says things #character study #don't wanna tag as tips cuz this is so specific to resident #resident evil

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yandere-society · 4 years

Text

The Ultimatum

Synopsis: Valentine’s Day has rolled around once again, and just like last year, you plan on spending it with none other than your emotional support dog. What you don’t know, however, is that you have an unexpected visitor awaiting for you at home.. and not only does he have a loaded gun on his hip, but he also has your beloved pet in his lap.

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Word Count: 6,000

Admin: @tatertotthethot

Valentine’s Day Event Masterlist

Trigger warnings: yandere-themes, signs/mentioning of mental disorders such as: anxiety, depression, PTSD and dissociation; Mentions of gang violence; Depictions of gore; nonconsentual kissing (nothing sexual); no dogs were harmed in the making of this…

“Here you go, guys.” You said as you handed the couple across the counter their drinks. You returned their smiles and bid them a good day, but as soon as they turned away and linked their fingers together on the way out, your expression settled into one of disdain.

Baley, your manager, noticed it. But like always, she chose to ignore it. She’s very much use to your secretive, albeit bitter distaste towards romance. She’s been working along side you for two years now, and knows that you’re a big advocate for holiday decorations. You’ve decked the place out on Halloween, thanksgiving, Christmas— even fucking Saint Patrick’s day. But for Valentine’s Day, all you did was slap some heart shaped stickers on the window and didn’t even look too happy to be doing that, either. But she’s never been one to push.

“Guess what I’m doing this evening,” She hinted, hanging the ‘closed’ sign on the door.

“Hm?” You asked, having zoned out while rinsing your shot glasses out.

“I’m gonna eat the rest of my edibles and read some alien erotica.”

Not expecting anything less from her, given her personality, you only choked out a laugh and shook your head. It’d be more amusing if you knew she wasn’t kidding. Baley has a weird obsession with aliens and you never took her serious about it until you bought her a tentacle dildo as a gag-gift on her birthday, and instead of laughing about it and going off into a banter like you were anticipating, she started screaming and jumping up and down like you just handed her the last Golden Ticket to the fucking chocolate factory.

“What about your boyfriend?” You asked, forcing yourself to engage in conversation to keep you from spiraling.

“He’s out of town. So I’ll be thinking of him as I read about the alien king abducting me and using my tenta-holes—“

“Never mind.” You cut her off, trying to let that lighten up the mood. You appreciated the effort, but it didn’t work. You just wanted today to be over.

It’d be a whole lot better if only you could tell her the truth and come clean about your past. But it’s not like she’d believe you, even if you had the guts. But in all honesty, her fantasy about alien abduction was more believable.

You’re a barista making $10 an hour, living paycheck to paycheck and inhabiting the house your grandmother left you in her will. You have no car, you rely on public transportation; all your clothes are from goodwill and when you’re not working at this shop, you spending your life in confinement of those walls with your dog, as a recluse.

If you even dared to tell Baley that, just three years ago, you were living in a million-dollar mansion in South Korea, and had a luxurious wardrobe from big-name designers and that you didn’t even own a pair of fucking socks that were under $100.. she’d look at you as if you were the alien. She wouldn’t entertain the bigger half of the story, about how you were engaged to a man who’s now serving a life sentence and could possibly be put on death row for committing a robbery that left one of the international banking systems short 23-million won— which would amount to be approximately 20 million dollars in America... you would’ve lost her at the word Fiancé.

It’d be easy to prove, though. Your associations to the crime may not show up in your background check, being as you’re back here in America and was never detained, and the news isn’t relevant enough to circulate here. However, a simple google search would reveal it all, even with pictures of you two in public.

But not even you wanted to look up his name to know what was going on with his case. You were still ambient to forget about him, in a way. You wanted to ignore his existence. You fucking loath that man.. you swear, you do.

You had fallen back into a brooding silence again without even meaning to, and although you were busily cleaning up off muscle memory, you were detached. He still has that effect on you. And truth be known, the first year you spent in lonesome isolation after leaving Korea was just a change of scenery but not very different from the lifestyle he had subjected you to. But even still, it was so much better than living with him at the estate. And now, with your dog Sweetpea there, you feel safe again. At least you were in the same place you grew up, and felt closer to your grandmother—

Fuck, you missed her so much. He wouldn’t even let you visit her in person before she past. The man owned his own private jet and it never had any maintenance problems until the one fucking night you needed to go back home. You only got to speak with her on the phone, and bawled your fucking eyes out and spewed out an incoherent apology just hours before her heart gave out. That’s when she told you that she left you the house, and how sorry she was for kicking you out of it because you didn’t pursue the career field she wanted you to go for.

If only they would’ve arrested Taehyung a month prior, you could’ve been there for her. You could’ve hugged her and the two of you could given each other the apology you both deserved.

“Hey..” Baley’s voice suddenly came to your left ear, the only one that you could actually hear out of. Your right one, despite being 80% deaf even with a functioning hear aid, was faintly ringing from the emotional tangent you had accidentally drifted into.

You looked over at her, and broke down. Although she could never fully understand, she still gave you an empathetic frown and was pulling you into a hug before you could sputter out an apology— not that there was any use for one.

You had secrets that still haunted you, and will always impair your daily life— much like your botched eardrum and this shitty device you spent way too much money on. That’s another thing you only had Kim Taehyung to thank for, along with your fucked up shoulder.

You had to carefully elevate your arms but eventually returned the hug and cried a little harder, not able to help it. Sweetpea was a great reciprocate for affection and did a swell job with distracting you, but as far as human comfort goes, you haven’t had so much as that in.. well, seven fucking years. Tae was always big on affection, and also comforted you when you needed it. But it was redundant and didn’t have a sincere effect, being as he was the very one that initially caused the hurt it derived from.

“I don’t know what the hell is going on with you, I never do... but I want you to know that I can see how strong you are. You’re doing a great job at making it through each day...” she muttered, rubbing your back as it shook with each silent sob. You felt bad when you heard her own voice beginning to thicken, but that was no surprise. She was a sympathizer and a little bit emo in general. Seeing others cry was enough to jerk a tear out of her, and you loved that about her. She’s a weirdo, but she’s pure, and she’s very good hearted. You could even say that you may have deeper feelings for her as well, and they may even be mutual, but you were no good for her. Hell, you were already putting her in enough danger just by being an employee at her shop. If you were to let your relationship stem past being friendly coworkers, or even hung out with her outside of work, that could pose an actual threat to her safety.

So, even though you wanted to lengthen the embrace, and longed to tighten your arms around her even more, you pulled back and wiped at your face, giving her a weak grin and a nod instead.

She squeezed your shoulders one last time before taking a step back, recollecting herself.

“You go home. I got everything else.”

You sheepishly nodded again, thanking her one last time before collecting your things and booking it out of there. Had you not felt so broken and defeated in that moment, you would’ve refused. But her show of affection triggered a deep, dire need to give and be given more comfort.

Fortunately for you, though, you had a special someone for that. Your dog is the only living creature on this planet that can be trusted with the revelations of your past. She’s the only reliance you have for receiving unconditional love and support without any judgment... probably because she doesn’t even understand what the fuck you’re saying half the time, nor can she repeat the shit you say, but as far as comfort goes, it’s always a guarantee.

— That’s just in her nature, like most pets. Pitbulls, however, are very sensitive and attentive to certain emotions— especially depression and anxiety. They’re just as good with protecting their owners, as well as they are with babysitting them. Everyone knows pitbulls have a notorious and misguided reputation for being aggressive. But little do most know, before dog fighting became a popular thing and defamed their personalities, pitbulls were primarily referred to as ‘Nanny dogs’. They’re great with babies in general, and very domestic and charismatic by nature. But despite being big, loveable goof balls themselves, they can literally sense stressful emotions and will know what type action to take in order to sedate them.

Sweetpea may not have professional training and certification but it is by her true nature and personality that you call her an Emotional Support Dog. When you’re having another one of your episodes— panic attacks, senseless paranoia, nightmares— she’s running to your aid and doing anything she can to distract and get you to play with her. When you’re depressed and spiraling into another breakdown, she licking at your face and sitting in your lap, not even seeing the problem with her being three times bigger than the average lap dog—

“Kneehemplamaforseeking?”

You sucked in a breath and blinked over at the PetsMart employee, smiling a few away from you. You probably looked lost, and in a way you quite literally were. You hardly remember walking in the direction of this store, let alone entering it. But this a common thing for you, so you easily just went on about your way despite the sudden worry of missing your bus... again.

“I’m sorry, what’d you say?” You had asked, turning your good ear towards her and watching her lips move.

“Do you need help looking for something?” She repeated, carefully annunciating her words this time, now that she could see the device in your ear. In today’s age, most people mistake it as a bluetooth— which has unknowingly saved you from accidentally talking to yourself in public, more than you would know.

You shook your head in response to the lady, and checked the time on your phone. You had 30 minutes left, thank God.

“No thanks. I’m just here to get some treats and waste some time before my bus comes. It’s windy as hell outside.”

“Ah, it certainly is,” she agreed, making her way to the next aisle. “Be safe out there!”

“I’ll try.” You muttered to yourself, grabbing a bag of bacon strips off the shelf— the very thing you had ultimately came for. It should’ve taken you no more than 5 minutes to grab and go. But it wasn’t uncommon for you to take much longer and aimlessly wonder down multiple aisles only to get one or two things from the same aisle, though. You do it at every store you go to, if you can stand to be outside of your home or away from work.

After checking out, you made it a mission to stay present until your bus came. By the time you got home, you were more stable.. up until the bus driver— a sweet elderly man who’s been transporting you on this route for last couple of years, handed you a rose on your way down the stairs.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, young lady.”

You had the strength to give him a genuine smile, but as soon as you stepped off and the doors closed, and the bus engine picked back up and left you with a gust of wind, you broke again.

Taehyung always gave you a bouquet of blood red roses for Valentine’s Day. He knew you were a sucker for them. And you still are, but sentiment wasn’t the only emotion to come now. They brought on an ache. A pain. A worry. A twinge of longing, but a fuckton of resentment.

You wanted to throw it on the ground and stomp at it.. better yet, you wanted to set it on fire and watch it burn while smoking a much needed cigarette. But first, you need to see your dog. You know she’s just as anxious to see you.

You trudged up to your door and was quick to unlock it... but frowned when you didn’t see her on the other side. Maybe it was because your ears were ringing again from how worked up you’d just gotten. But usually, the mere sound of your key twisting at the lock would have her running to the and practically beating it down, and you’d opened to see her gleefully wining out and wagging her tail.

But she wasn’t there.

“Sweetpea?” You called out, making it a point to swing the door shut behind you. Still, nothing—

Whimpering. You heard her whimpering and your head snapped over to the hallway. Your heart began to race. Your bed door was open, as always, and you could hear her in there but she wasn’t coming out. Only whimpering for you to come to her.

Fearing the worst, thinking perhaps she’d hurt herself to the extent that she couldn’t move, you barged down the hallway and listened with a sickening sense of uneasiness as her whimpering turned to muffled howls.

“Sweetpea, wha—“

You screamed. Sheer horror and white-hot adrenaline erupted through your veins and scorched your nerve endings, leaving you numb in the limb to the impact of the floor beneath your kneecaps. All you could feel was the volcanic eruption of despair in your chest and the strain in your diaphragm.

Sweetpea was okay, but very much in danger. She had a muzzle on, and her big, canopy-like ears were peeled back and her big, doughy eyes were wildly beading dead at you as she struggled and pawed at the carpet, watching you fall to you fall out. She was so worried to get to you but she couldn’t, do to the death grip of the man who was holding her by a leash. She couldn’t even interpret the lethality of the weapon that was also aimed at the back of her head— a glock you specially recall being the weapon of choice when Taehyung pistol whipped a man’s head open before emptying all twelve rounds in his magazine into his face.

Now, all you could envision was the same being done to that sweet face and big, bulbous head.

You screamed out and wailed even louder, not even looking at the intruder or registering who it was. Because you already fucking knew and in your mind it was too late.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” He roared, making you and Sweetpea flinch. You stopped screaming but your breath was ragged beyond your control. Your vision was bouncing between his fierce scowl and Sweetpea’s fearsome one. You dove forward, intending to crawl and beg but two pairs of shoes stepped out from where they’d been standing behind the door, and their hands gripped you by the biceps before hauling you up to your feet. You didn’t even try to resist them. You knew better than that. But fear still had you discombobulated and speaking out to yourself, feeling incredibly dizzy and disarrayed.

“Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!”

“You’re not dreaming.” Taehyung snarled, palm itching to slap some sense into you. But even within the three years he’s spent in bitterness, it didn’t change the morality he did have in relations to you. He’d never hit you out of anger.

But then he realized the real reason why you were saying that, when your knees suddenly gave out and the hold his men had on you became the only thing keeping you up right as you fainted out. He didn’t realize you still had that problem, and it hurt him to see that now.

Back when he had you in his possession, you had accidentally witnessed an execution down in the basement of his mansion. It was the first time you fainted, a d your body came toppling down a good ten-or-so steps, which were made of cement, and you were lucky to have only broken your nose and dislocated your shoulder.

Guilt crashed over him, suddenly. He meant to terrorize you in a way that wasted little time to gain submission, but he didn’t mean to trigger your PTSD— although he knew it was likely. Given the resolve, he put the gun back in its holster and stood up, beckoning for Yoongi to take the leash. Jungkook easily held you up by the waste and waited to pass you off to your fiancé before bringing your wrists behind your back. You slowly came to as he did so, and your head lolled back up only for your entire body to snap back into attention all at once, now that you were face to face with the Devil himself.

“Come on, you fucking idiot!”

Your head snapped over and you began to panic again as Yoongi fought with your, trying to drag her over to her cage by the leash. She was putting up one hell of a fight and audibly wheezing from the choke, her eyes now bulging as she looked at you.

You bucked against the both of them, your maternal instincts causing you to go feral as you saw red.

“QUIT! YOU’RE FUCKING CHOKING HER, YOU FUCKING PRICK! PICK HER UP!”

“She’s too squirmy!” He shouted back, the shock of your outburst causing him to lose tension and Sweetpea lunged the both of them forward. Tae was shouting at Jungkook to hurry with the restraints and squeezing you tighter, but you were kicking and flailing like a fish out of water now.

“MAKE HIM STOP!” You cried out, but was forcefully silenced by the gigantic hand that grabbled around the entire bottom half of your face— including your nose. Having been in this situation before, knowing his antics, you knew he wasn’t going to let you breathe again until you did as told. So you were forced to settle down but was still desperately pleading with your eyes, crying as your dog continued to heave against the menstruations.

“Yoongi, for fuck sake, the dog is 50 pounds. Just pick her up and put your in the kennel.” Tae stressed, eyes still locked with yours.

With a grunt, Yoongi tackled your dog and trapped her in a bear hug, snatching her up off the ground. You wanted to scream at him again but you were actually starting to struggle for oxygen, chest jolting with an involuntary attempts to inhale.

“Alright, they’re on. I just gotta link them.”

Tae’s hand finally dropped and you hacked out, swallowing as much air as you could. Now that Sweetpea was safely in her cage, you had time to worry about your own safety, but the look on his face wasn’t giving off such a merciful vibe.

“You do whatever you want to me. I don’t care. I won’t fight back... but if you hurt my dog—“

“If I hurt your fucking dog, it’ll just be tough shit for you. I’ll still do whatever the hell I want and unless you need me to prove that, I suggest you stop with ultimatums..” he chuckled, but it sounded so cold and twisted. He was on the verge of snapping, and was fighting to keep as much composure as he could right now, for your sake.

But he was on a heist right now, you readied yourself for the unknown when he punctuated his sentence by grappling your throat with the same, vandalized and accessorized hand he just smothered you with— fingers digging in at the sides. Your breathing was once again constricted and your eyes reddened in strain, your voice dying out.

Tae may not beat you, but he knows your worse fear is dying by suffocation. Hence, why he’s so big in breath play.

“Can you?” He reiterated, snarling his teeth at you and revealing the top and bottom pair of golden, fang-shaped plates framing his pearly white canine teeth. Back in the day, you found them so extravagant and tasteful, but now you found them all the more threatening.

He waited until your eyes began fluttered back before letting go again, and Jungkook’s body was the only thing that saved you from falling back. You never understood why, but for some reason, Jungkook was the only person Tae allowed to be in closer range of you, even when it wasn’t necessary. He even reminded you of that when Yoongi had stepped a little too close and Taehyung shot a glare over to him that had him taking a couple steps back. But Jungkook was apparently free to stand there, holding you up even as you regained your footing. You feared that one day it will all make sense, but for now, you were thankful that he was there to at least to save you from collapsing.

It’d be great if they weren’t even fucking here, at all.

“Go put the kennel in the car— not on the seats, though. Hobi will kill me if I fuck up the interior.”

“Please let me rehouse her.” You begged, cringing as his eyes returned to you. They looked even more colorless than before. “I’ll come with you, but I don’t want her there with us.”

“She’s fine. As long as she doesn’t shit and piss everywhere and doesn’t chew any of my shit, or try to attack me, I’ll let you keep her.”

“You were just holding a fucking gun to her head, Taehyung. Please let me rehouse her. My friend Baley will take her. All I gotta do is leave her in the cafe with a note— I have the keys. I’ll even let you write the fucking note yourself and we can go...” It was significantly getting harder to speak, now that your airways were irritated and your unsteady emotions were only making it worse.

You had already accepted your fate, but had a twinge of hope left that he’d at least hear you out on that request. His features had softened into a crestfallen display of guilt, and remorse. But your faith in him shattered all over again when he stubbornly shook his head and reached for the gun again. You were just about to throw another fit until he pulled the magazine out and showed it to you.

It was empty, until he pocketed it and pulled out a fully-loaded one and clipped it into place, before putting it back in the holster.

He tricked you, and although it was still pretty fucking evil, you were relieved. He never intended to shoot her and wouldn’t have been able to, even if his finger applied enough pressure on the trigger. But you were still very much in the midst of an abduction, and you still hated this man for what he was doing to you now.

“Why are here?” You croaked.

“To come get you and our new pet,” he announced, faking the enthusiasm before reinforcing his glare. “I’m... incredibly pissed about the fact that abandoned me.. but even more so offended by the negligence to stay updated.”

His eyes then caught the flash of a blue light at your ear. Your hearing aid was dying and faintly peeping in your ear. The remembrance had his entire demeanor shift to a sullen one, like a switch.

“But at the same time—“ his voice had fallen into a lower pitch, almost to the point of being a whisper as he stepped closer and easily molded his hands around your face. You suddenly felt fragile, but not in a way that made you giddy, like it use to. Now, you had to swallow down the bile in your throat and fight against the nausea as his suddenly lips came near.

“—It’s really hard take that out on you, when I can’t even blame you for it. But It’s been three fucking years, honey. Three. How could you not even have enough concern for my well being, to not even send a fucking post card? Did you really think you‘d never see me again, and that you had snuck away from me? I knew what you were doing, and where you were going before you even boarded your fucking flight.”

“You’re suppose to be in jail. I thought you were letting me go.”

“First of all, you didn’t even know the original plan to think that it had failed. All my charges have been dropped and the suspicion of my involvement dismissed. Namjoon has been found guilty and is now serving that sentence, like I had initially plotted from the beginning. You never knew shit to fucking assume anything!”

You glared at him despite the jolt that came with his drastic notch in volume, and not your tongue as he went on.

“But I did allow you to leave the country, but only to give you space and to let you touch base with... whatever the fuck it is that you still find valuable here. I didn’t think I’d have to clarify the circumstances of your stay, but for you to not even reach out.. and the fact you got some shitty, minimum wage job on top of it all, when you still have access to the saving account I’ve put in your name.. You really thought we were over? You haven’t even checked the news articles to see any updates on the case. I’ve been out for a week!”

He was still holding your face but his hands were shaking and the pressure was increasing again. He always pulls back and regains control over his temper before inflicting harm, but it’d be foolish to not expect him to one day lose that control. He’s hurt you on ‘accident’ before. He’s slaughtered many people, more than you’ll ever know to keep count. Nothing is sacred.

But now, you are a lot more contempt and able to tolerate the fear of him hurting you on impulse, being as Sweetpea was out of harms way and no longer in the room. You were still shaking though and had closed your eyes, bracing for it. But the jerk of shock only came when his suddenly lips covered your’s, and Jungkook finally backed away.

The kiss only lasted about three solid seconds before he pulled back, and was heavily panting through his nose. You dared to look up and caught a glimpse of the physical pain marring his features. His eyes had gone watery and his jaw began ticking like a time bomb, nostrils flaring and chest rising. He pressed his forehead against your’s and snaked his fingers into the hair at the nape of your neck, trying to fight off his own sobs and choking on them more and more with each second.

“You hate me.. you haven’t even missed me.” His voice was so thickened by his emotions that it deepened the natural richness he already had, making it sound contorted and almost inhuman. A tear dropped down his nose bridge and hit your quivering lips, and for the life of you, you couldn’t fight back the heart wrenching burn it inflicted on you.

How could you still feel anything for this man? It can’t be. It just fucking can’t be..

But it was. You were so bewildered and petrified by the oncoming sympathy that it stunned you into a froze state of shock. He kissed you again, thinking it was a show of fear for own safety— and he was right to interpret the fear, but it was with different cause. He was steadily conjuring up feelings that you wished you could’ve watched burn, like you had intended to do with the rose your bus driver gave you. But here you were, heart bleeding for him.

You still didn’t reciprocate the kiss but it brought on more involuntary anguish.. you cried harder and so did he, and as he leaned your head back to kiss at your neck, you stared in perplexing awe at the gigantic bouquet of roses sitting on your nightstand.

“It’s okay. I‘ve missed you too fucking much to punish you now.” He calmed, and took a good 30 seconds to regain his composure. There was still a groggy undertone in his next words, but once again, he was back in his domineering mindset. “But I ain’t cutting you that much slack.”

You yelped when he suddenly shoved you back, straight into Jungkook for the nth time. He heatedly wiped at his eyes and stepped back, and it was the first time you took in how much more muscular and rigid he’d become over the years.

Before, he was a lot more slender and you’re certain that the very shirt he’s wearing now use to be at least 2 sizes too big on him before.. however, the black silk was skin-tight and clinging to the humps of his biceps, and straining around the buttons between his pectorals. His skin was more pale than ever before but now you could see a tattoo curving along his temple, arcing aside the edge of his pierced brow. The word that was written in elegant, cursive writing made your heart palpitate and your stomach twist even more.

Honey. That was your signature endearment. That was the name you’d given him in place of your real one the very night he met you, and asked for it.

This crazy motherfucker really is obsessed with you. How he can lie to you, deceive you, punish you and drive you fucking bonkers and stalk you down only in the act of what he calls love.. and for it to actually be a form of true—albeit dangerous love, was beyond you.

The scripture on his handsome, albeit matured face distracted you for a few seconds. You snapped out of it when Jungkook suddenly hauled you up by the midsection and slammed you down on the bed, pinning his hand down between your shoulder blades and rendering you defenseless.

“What are you doing? Taehyung! Please! Get him off of me!”

“If I could trust you to stay still, I would.” His voice was neutral again, despite a offhanded sniff. You struggled to look back, but it was no use as he was standing out of view.

“Stay still for what?”

“Do you still have your ring?” He asked instead, ignoring you.

“It’s in my nightstand drawer. Now tell me—“

“Told you she kept it,” Jungkook finally spoke— and just like it was back then, it was a very rare occurrence for when he did speak on your behalf. That’s another thing nobody else dared to do, unless asked. But knowing that he was the one stalking you for Taehyung made you all the more disturbed with him.

“Fucking creep. You’re hurting me!” you screamed at him, and he had the audacity to increase pressure. Tae said nothing, nor did he stop his friend from retaliating.

“I also know about your little affair with your coworker. Since when did you start swinging both ways?”

“What are you talking about?” You growled, and he only snorted in response.

“She knows you like her. She knows you stare at her ass every time she bends over and that you bend over on purpose to make her look at yours. She knows you like it when she slaps it.”

You, one again, went unmoving.

Jeon Jungkook is her fucking boyfriend.

“What does Jk even stand for?”

“Jackson. But he doesn’t like to be called Jackie, and you know how I am about nicknames. So I call him JK.”

“Don’t you fucking hurt her, Jungkook. You leave her alone. Tae, don’t you let him—“

“Don’t you worry about me.”

“BALEY?!”

Baley walked into view, an unreadable expression on her face. The mere realization of what was happening finally over filled your mental tolerance and you brain suddenly launched you away from reality.

The beach. You were at the beach with your cousins, all of you a little over the age of 18. You were on spring break your senior year in highschool and talking about the future. Graduation. Prom. College~

“She’s zoned out.” Baley said, and Jungkook finally let go. You were indeed paralyzed and had completely dissociated, talking to yourself. Taehyung, with a fully-loaded syringe in his hand, leaned over to look at your face. Your pupils were dilated, eyes stargazing in general, lips softly moving as you babbled nonsense. He hated knowing that it was coming to this, but he swore he’d earn your forgiveness.

“I’m gonna get your ear fixed.. or at least get you a better device. We’re gonna be okay. We’re so fucking rich now, I don’t even know what to do with all our money— only to turn it into more. I won’t have to work as much. We can get married, have the best fucking honey moon we can imagine. We can get started on a family. I’ll win your dog over, too. I promise.”

He sank the needle into your bicep, and you didn’t even flinch. Only blinked in rhythm as a tear fell.

“I’m gonna be a forensic scientist, like Mawmaw wants me to be.” You incoherently muttered, having said that to your friend, Jessica, on the beach.

It was insensitive, but he couldn’t help but crack a grin at that. Whatever memory you were reliving at the moment, was quite sometime before you actually began your classes for such profession. He bent down and kissed your cheek one last time as he injected the entirety sedation serum into your system and pulled it out. But you were oblivious to it all.

“I think I’m smart enough...”

”You’re very book smart, baby. But you’re probably gonna drop out after three semesters and become a bar tender at a strip club, because you’re not fit to be a homicidal investigator. You’re too soft.”

“I’m not..”

“You sure?”

“I’m gonna be a forensic scientist, like Mawmaw wants me to be.”

“Well, you’re gonna become my wife before you become anything else.”

“Ew, don’t even play like that. You’re my cousin.”

“Jeez..” Baley muttered. “You really have driven her a little bat-shit, huh? This is way more disturbing than I anticipated—“

“Babe, lets go sit in the car. Come on,” Jungkook hurried, pulling her out of the room.

Taehyung continued to whisper sweet nothings into your deafened ear, but the last night you heard before it all went blank was the perfect, bittersweet saying that bidded you goodbye for the night.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Honey.”

#yandere society #bts #kim taehyung #yandere bts #yandere taehyung #taehyung x reader #bts x reader

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taeyongdoyoung · 3 years

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summary: the forest is your only escape from the everyday troubles with your family until you find danger lurking behind the trees. or rather, danger finds you. your fateful encounter with the vampire ravn leaves you wishing for a different life. you strike an unexpected deal with the stranger that will soon turn into something more…

pairing: vampire!ravn x reader

side characters: leedo and seoho

genre: vampire!au, angst, romance, humour

warnings: kidnapping, cleithrophobia, manipulation, lies, human trashnaming, blood mentions, stabbing, swearing (like twice)

word count: 2.5k

author’s note: @mariuscheng i deeply apologize, you’ll see why *mwah*

part one 🌙 part two 🌙 part three 🌙 part four 🌙 part five 🌙 part six 🌙 part seven 🌙 part eight 🌙 part nine 🌙 part ten 🌙 part twelve 🌙epilogue

Minutes turned into hours and hours into days. You began to lose track of time. You had no idea how long you’d spent in this terrifying place where Leedo had taken you to. You just wanted to go back home. Not where your parents were, no. That had never felt like home. You wanted to be back in Ravn’s castle, in the safety of his arms. He was the one…well, not person, but rather being who had treasured you and cared for you like nobody else.

And no matter how hard you tried to convince Leedo that you would never change your mind and love him the way he wanted you to, he just refused to let you go. Which only frustrated you further. You felt like a bird in a cage and that feeling was the worst in the world. You needed to think of a way to escape. But how? These metal bars were so hard. And Leedo never let you out of sight. True, he never physically harmed you or forced you to do anything.

But the mere fact he had kidnapped you, taken you away from the place you called home was enough of a red flag to change your friendly feelings for him into something that resembled distrust and annoyance. Since you couldn’t find a way to escape, your only hope was that Ravn wouldn’t give up on you. Maybe he would come for you.

As more days passed by, you realized you were on your own. Harbouring hopes was foolish and would do you no good. You could either die or make peace with your current situation. Or…you could try something else entirely. Something wicked and a bit cruel, but it could work, nonetheless. And since you weren’t in the mood for dying and you weren’t one to give up so easily, you decided to go for it.

“I changed my mind,” you told Leedo one day, the lie coming out easily. “I’m willing to give you a chance. I can try…to love you like you need me to.”

Leedo eyed you suspiciously. He doubted the sincerity of your words. And for a good reason.

“Do you expect me to let you go, then? Just like that?”

Actually, it wouldn’t be such a bad idea. But of course not. You weren’t that stupid.

“Someday, you will,” you responded, attempting to sound absolutely convinced by the validity of your statement. “Give it time.”

A desperate wish for it to be true appeared in Leedo’s stare. Good. Let him dream.

“Really? You’re willing to try?”

“I am if you are,” you lied once more. What’s another one? You’ve come so far…

“What about the vampire you claim you care about?” Leedo reminded you, which briefly troubled you. But you had to play your cards right if you wanted out of here. You had to deceive Leedo successfully in order to go back to the one you truly loved.

“Well, you were right about him. He’s just a cold-skinned bloodsucker. You could be so much better for me,” the words sent pangs of guilt down your spine as you pronounced them. You didn’t mean any of it, of course. But you had to try your best to convince Leedo you did. If you couldn’t escape on your own, you could manipulate him into letting you go. You only hoped that you were good enough an actress to make this work.

“I’m glad you’re finally beginning to see the error of your ways. We could be so good together, you and I.”

You resisted the urge to vomit. He was delusional. But you had to play along.

“Sure, we could. Now, tell me,” you murmured in what you were wishing sounded like a seductive voice, “What does a girl like me have to do to get some fresh air and a bit of sun around here?”

Leedo laughed. He obviously wasn’t as dumb as you’d hoped he’d turn out to be.

“Not yet. But we’ll get there, I promise. I’ve been very patient with you. What’s a couple more weeks?”

Weeks? If you had to spend another night in this godforsaken place, you would die. You had to get out of here soon or you would lose your mind.

“Right,” you attempted not to sound too crestfallen about it. “Well, until then, we could get to know each other better.”

Leedo smiled.

“What do you want to know?”

🌙🌙🌙

Ravn’s POV

As soon as I found Seoho, I told him everything that had happened and begged him to help me find her. I couldn’t live without her and I had no intention of letting her go. He listened to my pleas calmly, without saying a word. When I was finally done, he spoke:

“Of course, I will help you,” Seoho started. “Even though I don’t trust humans…”

“I’m sensing there’s a big but coming.”

“But I’m afraid we might be too late.”

“Too late?” I whispered, immediately panicking. “Is she dead? Did the werewolf do something to her?”

Seoho shook his head in a composed manner.

“That’s not what I meant. Too late as in…she might have betrayed your secret. You could be in danger, Ravn. You don’t want what almost happened to Xion to happen to you, do you?”

“Y/N’s not like that, I swear. She would never do this to me.”

“Alright, then. Do you have something of hers so that I could cast a locating spell?”

I nodded and handed him one of the books I’d gifted her a while ago. She would read from it every night before sleep. I figured it was her most prized possession.

“Shakespeare, huh?” Seoho chuckled. “Okay, just…go sit in the other room, don’t distract me and I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

I agreed, even though it was impossible for me to sit and stay calm in this current predicament. I was losing my mind. I had to find her soon. What if she was hurt? What if…I never got the chance to see her again? The chance to…tell her everything she meant to me…Tell her…

“She’s near the river in that forest of yours. In some sort of…prison cave,” Seoho informed me a while later.

I wasted no time and stormed out of the room without even bothering to thank my best friend. He’d understand, I told myself. But before I could make it outside of his house, Seoho had teleported next to me and grabbed my hand.

“Where do you think you’re going, lad?” he scolded me. “I’m coming with you.”

“I can’t ask you to…risk exposure. I know how much your secret means to you.”

Seoho obviously disagreed with me.

“You’re not asking. I’ll come on my own free will. You’re my best friend, Ravn. If you care about that foolish human, I feel it is my duty to help you out.”

“Seoho, you really don’t have to…”

“No time for arguing,” he shut me up. “And besides, me teleporting us there would be much faster than your vampire speed.”

I laughed wholeheartedly at his sensible observation.

“Lead the way, powerful wizard.”

Before I could blink, we were standing near the river. Closeby, there was indeed a cave that I had never seen before. I had heard rumours of its existence but never laid eyes upon it. So strange…I rushed ahead, eager to save Y/N from whatever torments that…dog had put her through. But before I could do so, Seoho stopped me once again.

“What now?” I complained because of his apparent eagerness to slow me down.

“Before we go in there, there’s something you should now.”

“Just say it already, the tension is killing me,” I groaned.

“Ravn. You’re already dead,” Seoho reminded me.

“Not helping, Seoho,” I sighed.

“Okay, okay, sorry. Y/N must be nearby so I…heard a fraction of her memories. She had just told that werewolf something very disturbing about you. I’m not sure I can even say it, it’s too vile.”

“Just go ahead,” I rolled my eyes. What could possibly be worse than losing her?

“She said and I quote here, so please, don’t get mad at the messenger ‘He’s just a cold-skinned bloodsucker. You could be so much better for me.’ Listen, man, it’s highly possible that her and the werewolf have been working against you. I told you that humans can’t be trusted!”

I shook my head, refusing to believe him.

“No, that can’t be true. Are you sure you heard it correctly? It must have been the wind or…”

Seoho, however, was determined that she had, in fact said that.

“I’m telling you, it’s best we get out of here. It could be a trap. We don’t know what we’re walking into, Ravn! Humans are such wicked creatures, it’s not safe.”

“No, no,” I repeated helplessly. “I can’t just leave her here. I love her, okay? And even if she doesn’t love me back, even if she did say these things about me, I still can’t let anything happen to her.”

Seoho scoffed in disbelief.

“It’s your funeral, mate.”

I shrugged.

“Like you said earlier. I’m already dead.”

I hurried towards the entrance of the cave.

“Then I’d rather die by your side than just stand outside like a coward!” Seoho yelled right behind me.

“If you’re scared for your life, you don’t have to come in. I won’t blame you, I’ll understand,” I reassured my friend.

“I’m not scared for my life. It’s you I’m worried about,” Seoho replied.

“While I’m sincerely touched,” I squeezed his arm. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“Not against a werewolf, you’re not. Dumbass,” he added that last part affectionately.

“Well, two dumb brains are always better than one,” I joked and the two of us went inside.

🌙🌙🌙

Reader’s POV

This shit wasn’t working. You were being so nice and pliable to Leedo and he still hadn’t let you go! Ugh, men! You wanted out so badly but you couldn’t risk being too forthright about it or it would ruin all the careful planning, all the progress you’d been making so far. Just a few more days, you kept telling myself. Just a few more and he’d believe you. You had to be strong enough to continue with the lies, with the whole acting scheme. They would be successful. Or you didn’t know what you’d do with yourself. You missed everything so badly. You missed holding Ravn’s hand. You missed reading books in his big…library. You missed making flower crowns for him. You even missed him drinking your blood. To think that the one time you’d found a home for yourself…only to have it taken away from you so cruelly. It was really unfair. You had never before been in a situation where you had to deceive someone on purpose. You had never wished ill upon anyone. So, for whatever crimes you were being punished, you couldn’t help but get frustrated by the injustice of it all. Just when you were getting entirely lost in the memories, Leedo interrupted your thoughts.

“You know…I was thinking we could have a walk. I won’t let you out of my sight, so don’t try anything stupid.”

Was this actually happening? Or were you dreaming?

“Of course not. I told you already. I changed my mind.”

“Good,” Leedo gave you an encouraging smile, which you desperately wanted to wipe off his smug face. No sooner had he unlocked the metal door leading to the outside world, to the light, to freedom, than you heard unexpected noises coming from somewhere nearby. Was it possible? Had he really come for you?

Seconds later, you were greeted by a heavenly sight. Ravn and Seoho were only a couple of metres away from you. Never before had you felt so grateful to see such familiar faces! You immediately forgot all about your plan to deceive Leedo and rushed into Ravn’s arms. He let you hold him but didn’t say a word, simply welcoming you silently. But why? You had missed the sound of his voice.

“It was a trick, wasn’t it?” Leedo finally realized. “You never loved me, you just said all these things so I’d let you go, didn’t you?”

You gulped nervously and even though you didn’t want to leave the comfort of Ravn’s arms, you felt like you had to confront Leedo yourself.

“Yes, it was all a lie. I never meant any of it,” you confessed.

Ravn gave Seoho a pointed look, which at the time, you didn’t understand.

“Well, I don’t care. If I can’t have you, then neither can he,” Leedo attacked Ravn before you could register what was happening. You wished you could do something other than beg them to stop, but you were so scared that you could barely move. They were going to kill each other right in front of you and you were too frozen to think. Luckily, Seoho’s reflexes worked faster than yours. He hurriedly got between them, trying to make them stop. However, before he could do so, Leedo accidentally pierced him in the stomach with a blade that had somehow appeared from thin air and Seoho stumbled onto the ground. You ran to his side and knelt down next to the magician.

“Oh, God, are you okay?” you asked.

Seoho nodded weakly.

“I didn’t mean to stab him,” Leedo defended himself. “I meant to kill the bloodsucker!”

“Oh, right, ‘cause that makes us all feel so much better!” you hissed sarcastically.

“Just…stop fighting and ask the girl who she wants to be with, you imbeciles!” Seoho murmured before passing out.

“Shit,” you and Ravn swore simultaneously, desperately trying to help Seoho regain consciousness.

“You didn’t answer the question,” Leedo pointed out.

“Is that really your biggest concern right now?” you snapped at him. “Seoho could literally die because of you!”

Leedo looked away as if it wasn’t any of his concern. That bastard…

“I want to stay with Ravn and help Seoho, in case it wasn’t obvious,” you spelled it out.

Leedo nodded and started walking away wordlessly. In the meantime, you were pressing your hand against Seoho’s wound so that he wouldn’t die from the blood loss.

“If I ever see you again, I will kill you,” Ravn vowed, giving Leedo an icy glare.

“Likewise,” Leedo roared and left you all in that damn cave.

Once he was out of earshot, you noticed Ravn slowly backing away from Seoho.

“There’s so much blood,” he panted weakly.

“Fuck, I almost forgot,” you were worried for a second that Ravn would lose control. Despite the fact that Seoho was his best friend, it was only natural that he was disturbed by the smell and look of it.

“I don’t want to hurt him,” Ravn closed his eyes, pained and ashamed to admit that he was so easily affected.

“You won’t. You should get out of here and bring me supplies from your castle. Herbs, medicine, anything you can find,” you sensibly suggested. “It’s my fault he got hurt in the first place. If it hadn’t been for my friendship with Leedo, none of this would have happened,” you couldn’t help but blame yourself for it all.

“It’s not your fault you see the good in people. And…I’ll do what you asked. We’ll talk more when I return, promise.”

You nodded.

“I’ll stay with Seoho and try to stop the bleeding.”

“Thank you,” Ravn said and ran outside at the speed of light.

To be continued…

#oneus #ravn #ravn x reader #twilight #oneus fanfic #kim youngjo #leedo #seoho #ravn angst #romance #vampire au #vampires #writing

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opalmaplehibiscus · 4 years

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Roses are Red, Violets are blue – Riddle Discovered Romance Exists and that He’s in Love Too~

**Note: Anon, I’m so sorry for taking so long to write this ㅠoㅠ I really like Riddle as he’s in my top 5 list of characters like, so I hope I did him justice OTL

HC of Riddle x Reader

· When Riddle first meets you at the welcome ceremony, already from the first glance, he was 100.31415% sure that he didn’t like you

· You were a trouble maker, chaos-maker, a person who likes to wreck-havoc. In other words, something Riddle absolutely despised – a rule breaker

· He was expecting, ok-hoping for you to not be accepted as an NRC student by the headmaster. Not only were you a rule breaker, you couldn’t even use magic. It wouldn’t make sense for you to be accepted

· When he sees you sitting at lunch with Ace, it proved to him 2 things. 1. You just further proved to him that you were someone he doesn’t want to get close with and 2. The headmaster is as brainless as ever

· He doesn’t expect to see you come with Ace to deliver a marron tart on the day of the Unbirthday Party

· Despite how he had reacted, he felt touch that you had come to deliver a tart for him. Yet, rules are law

· It took everything in him to not flinch when he hears a passing comment from Cater how you and the other 3 trouble makers even had to pick fresh chestnuts to make it. To think someone who wasn’t even in his own dorm decided to help out to make a tart for him…

· But the feeling of guilt disappears when you, someone magicless, calls him stupid for following the rules! The nerve you had for saying that he was stupid for following the rules that the Queen of Hearts made!

· He usually didn’t discipline anyone outside the dorm of Heartslabyul unless it was something he witnessed and in regards to the general NRC school rule. He made an exception though when you refused to say “Yes, Dorm Leader”

· You were in Heartslabyul and as the saying goes, “In Rome, do what the Romans do”. Through his anger, he’s still able to rational think how unreasonable he was being to apply his magic on someone magicless

· For the rest of the day, the memory replays in his head of how he, for the first time in his whole life, hesitated casting magic on someone. It didn’t help that the feeling of his hand shaking didn’t disappear

· When you appear the next day for the duel, he suddenly felt self-conscious. He didn’t know why, but every time he was in front of you, he suddenly had the urge to look proper to you

· He wanted to show you how much pride he takes in being the perfect honor student as well as nearly coming close to having the perfect image of the Queen of Hearts, herself

· …Yes. Riddle, at the time, was wanting to look cool in front of you

· The shame and deep embarrassment he faces when Ace punched him and calls him a baby in front of you of all people…The person he wanted to impress and gain acknowledgement from. And it didn’t help that everyone else didn’t think that was enough before an egg hits him on the head

· After he OBs, he wakes up lying in your lap though he doesn’t notice as he continues to feel that the world was spinning

· What he does notice was you hugging him as he cries from guilt, stress, and everything he held inside while patting his head. He refuses to admit that it comforted him, though it causes him to cry harder as he never once was given affection before

· During the time he was recovering, when Trey and Cater tells him how you were the one that proposed to save him as soon as he OBed, his eyes turned soft from again, being touched, guilty, and confusion

· He didn’t understand why you had chosen to help him. He knew that his first impression on you was not impressive at all. Yet you saved him

· On Ace’s birthday, he has fun painting the roses with everyone while getting some sort of redemption on trying to look good in front of you

· But, when he gave everyone his failed tarts, he wanted to dig a hole and get in it. He’s finally able to make himself look good and it’s none other than himself that ruins it in no less than an hour. Someone, please, help him

· Seeing you continue to eat the failed tart, he tries to stop you. But jokes on him, when you tell him how the tart was something he made for everyone, which made it still delicious, he blushes

· He only turns redder when he catches a certain Heartslabyul group talking behind his back

· Ace: Oh my gosh, I think our Ryocho has a crush on the Prefect Deuce: What? No wa-actually, it really does seem like it, huh Grim: That’s unacceptable! I don’t want Y/N to date a guy like that! That would mean I won’t get as many tuna cans compared to now! Cater: Uuuuhhhhh, you guys should quiet down or else-

· Riddle makes sure to punish them by lecturing them for 3 hours about respecting their seniors

· He nearly uses his Unique Magic again when Ace points out how his height makes him look like a middle schooler

· A few days later, when he sees you checking up on Trey because of his injury, Riddle felt touched from it

· It made him happy and help the guilt inside him lessen seeing that there were many people that cared for his friend. Especially, from you

· When he hears you were investigating about the incidents that were happening, he starts wanting to help you. Other than the reason of trying to find the person who used their magic on him and caused Trey to get injured, he didn’t want to lose the opportunity to get closer to you

· It seemed like fate was against him though when he gets embarrassed by Floyd as he gets called by that cursed nickname and then had to run away from the eel twins

· However, the fact that he was able to spend his day with you made him happy nonetheless

· He doesn’t realize this but he starts to become more conscious about you – taking note of how you wear your uniform, hold your bag, etc

· Listen, he’s more conscious because he acknowledges you as a fellow dorm leader that’s all! It’s totally not because he actually likes you!

· Yeah, that’s why he fixes your tie and gives you the advice about keeping appearance! Because as fellow dorm leaders, they were the ones to set the image of being proper honor students in NRC! That’s. All!

· He starts questioning if everything he did in the past is coming to bite him back now when he tries to catch Ruggie but ends up getting his pen stolen.

· Was it too much to ask of him to look cool in front of you once? Once?

· Cater: Riddle… I know you’re trying to look cool in front of Y/N but.. Riddle: But what? Cater: …Nothing

· Cater didn’t want to face Riddle’s wrath like how Ace and Deuce did. He’s a wise man

· He feels this again but this time with veins popping on his head when he finally gets Jack to agree to his plan and make it work only to lead to Leona to OB

· He never has ever felt the urge to just crouch down while covering his face with his hands until now

· When he sees Leona attacking everyone, all thoughts disappear as his worry for everyone’s safety, especially yours becomes his priority

· He wanted to tell you to run away, go somewhere safe. But he doesn’t because he knows you’ll end up staying to save everyone

· And this cycle repeats. When he finds out how you made a deal with Azul and the latest being you getting kidnapped at Scarabia, he wants to yell at you

· He worries, he panics over your wellbeing. But what’s worse was that he can’t even tell you because he knows he isn’t any position to say so

· The frustration that builds up in him leads him to take it out on anyone who annoys him, especially on those who gives him the biggest headache cough Ace and Deuce cough

· It doesn’t help that he doesn’t understands why he worries about you

· You always break the rules, get in trouble, and try to save others nonstop. You put yourself in danger for the sake of other’s when no one is willing to do that for you

· Ever since you extended your hand towards him, all he’s been wanting was to show you the better side of him – to get you to become closer to him

· BUT! EVERY! SINGLE! TIME! He tries getting closer to you, he was blocked

· Fairy Gala – misses the opportunity to see you in your gorgeous outfit - He ends up getting a picture of you in it (it totally wasn’t a bribe from Idia, who was trying to get out of a dorm leader meeting. He was just following the school rules of confiscating all pictures that weren’t allowed to be taken in the school. That’s all)

· Bean’s Day – Didn’t know the two of you were on the same team - He screamed into his pillow that night when he found about it. You literally were on the same team as him so he had a full, bloody chance to hang out with you. Alone. Just the two of you. Curse Jack and Azul for catching him. He’ll get back at them. He swears on the Queen of Hearts name he will.

· Things worsen for him as he starts having the urge to hold your hand or want to get to know you. Do you like tarts just like he does? Were your hands soft just like how they look? Do you like to tie your tie in a bow like him or do the traditional Windsor?

· Did he ever mentioned that he wanted to go “Off with Your Head” on Crowley and Floyd? No? Oh well, he does. And he will. Especially after what happened during that “weird ghost princess’s” marriage

· He would like to say that he’s not short. He’s smart, considerate, knows what to do and not to do – height shouldn’t matter it’s the quality that does

· He’s not self-cautious about his height. Nor is he worried about how well he fits into the “ideal” prince aka ideal marriage partner

· He just wants to show that he’s capable of being a romantic partner! Because as dorm leader, he has an image to uphold especially since he’s closest to the Queen of Hearts!

· In the end though, all of that turns out to be excuses. He realizes how much he enjoys your presence - how much he likes talking to you, hanging around you, getting to enjoy things without feeling judged or afraid of breaking rules

· He feels like himself, his trues self, when he’s around you

· And after listening to what Ace said to Eliza (yes, he remembers her name), he realizes that he sees you as someone like that

· Realizing that he actually fell for you, his heart speeds up and his face reddens when you come up to him to congratulate him on the success

· He knows that he doesn’t tell you now, he won’t ever have the chance to tell you. Especially since apparently, people like to block him from evening getting an inch closer to you

· After looking down and seeing the bouquet in his hands still in good condition, he sends Cater off before he starts taking you towards Sam’s shop

· He ignores your questions, before he stops right in front of the shop

· His heart speeds up and nervousness washes over him. But he steels his resolve after thinking about how he’ll never have another chance

· Getting on a knee, he places a right hand on his heart while offering the bouquet with his left

· He confesses how ever since you helped him when he OBed, he started to have feelings for you. He never thought about it at first, but overtime the feelings started to grow despite him not realizing it. And today, he realized he fell for you

· He talks about how he’s never experienced what it’s like to confess and love someone. Yet he promises you on his own name as well as the Queen of Heart’s name that he will devote his entire being to you – never lying nor betraying your heart

· He says the he understands if you can’t accept being his, however, if only you acknowledge his feelings for him – at least be aware, he’s satisfied

· Or would’ve if it weren’t for the fact that half way through, he’s suddenly pulled up towards you

· His eyes widen as he feels your lips on his, actually k-k-kissing him

· Once the two of you broke away, he looks at you in a daze, not understanding what had happened until he hears you saying that he didn’t have the right to make decisions for you and that you liked him back

· He blushes to the point his face rivals the color of his hair before he drags you into another kiss out of happiness and absolute love

· He’s about to say he loves you before he hears something behind the bushes

· Deuce: OH MY GREAT SEVENS – RIDDLE RYOCHO ACTUALLY Ace: SHHHHHH YOU’RE GOING TO GET US IN TROUBLE! Although, I have to say, I didn’t think Ryocho had it in him to actually confess Grim: NOOOO MY CANS OF TUNE Cater: whistles Wow~ Riddle and Y/N is a thing then~

· He makes a mental note to give them punishment as he gets kissed again by you, happily returning it

#twst #twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #hc #headcanon

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tev-the-random · 4 years

Text

What it Ursa took her children with her? - Pt.2

As we were saying:

Little over year has passed since the family arrived in Hira’a, and fateful news gets to them: Ozai remarried. His new wife is someone who is honoured to marry the Firelord and doesn’t mind the fact that his head is so deep up his own arse- anyway, and they are expecting a child, who is to be the Firelord’s legitimate heir.

Azula’s hopes and dreams are shattered. At age ten, she is quite literally being replaced in her beloved father’s life. It’s like she’s never even existed, and she can’t help but wonder what she did wrong.

Zuko is also upset, of course. All those years when Ozai told him he was unfit and worthless come flooding back. But somehow, he already expected things to turn out like this. Unlike Azula, he wasn’t so deeply feeding on hopes that things would go back to normal. He sees it more as a situation that was out of everyone’s control.

He convinces Azula it’s not her fault, and these kids will still be trying to understand and defend their father later down the road. There must be a reason for all of this, right? They start thinking of a reasonable scenario…

Ursa just feels sorry for the poor woman who has to deal with Ozai now.

So we get a timeskip: about three years came and went. Zuko and Azula – treated as kids and not as weapons – lead a peaceful and happy life whenever they’re not thinking of their father and everything they could be doing out there.

They have become known local troublemakers in their spare time. Kids know better than to challenge them, people know not to leave flammable goods out in the open – a strict policy regarding fireworks has been established after a chaotic incident – and failure to keep an eye on them this one time led to… well, let’s just say that the town is still unsure of whether or not they’re is being haunted by evil spirits.

They aren’t allowed anywhere near Forgetful Valley, but bold of you to assume they never tried. In-jokes arise.

‘No, I’m serious: that tree’s face looked exactly like yours, Zuzu. You really should befriend it,’ Azula mocks, remembering a particularly ugly tree they encountered in their adventure.

‘Sorry, I wasn’t looking at it. I was busy looking for whoever it was that asked you,’ Zuko retorts. ‘Since Forgetful Valley has all the kinds of crazy stuff.’

‘Maybe we should go back and look for your impulse control, then.’

‘None of you are going back in there,’ Ursa reprehends. ‘It was very irresponsible of you. Forgetful Valley is a dangerous place, you could have gotten hurt!’

‘Your mother is right, you know?’ Noren comments. ‘I’ve been to that jungle before, and it’s definitely not a playground. But I swear…’ He makes a dramatic pause. ‘I once saw Ursa’s sense of humour in there.’

The kids burst out laughing while Ursa sighs. ‘Since you can find such amazing things in the valley, dear, why don’t you go back there and find yourself actual funny jokes? I’m sure my sense of humour will be around the same corner.’

*More laughter*

(IDK, I write crappy comedy, ok?)

They still have a bit of a hard time making friends. I wouldn’t say they are shy, but they definitely have a talent to say the wrong things at the wrong times, and it’s hard to make deep connections. Sure, they would play with other kids from time to time, but in the end, Zuko and Azula are each other’s best friend.

They’ve cleared an area by the beach that any Hira’a resident knows to stay away from when they’re training.

Azula discovered a great passion for theatre. Not only are her acting skills fantastic, she also seems to be naturally aware of what makes a good scene. People say she’s Noren’s Little Assistant.

She hates being called Noren’s Little Assistant. She would much rather be called Ursa’s Little Star, because goddamn is she a good actress and she needs everyone to know that.

Zuko is more of a plant-lover guy. Unfortunately, he hasn’t inherited his grandmother’s green thumb, and despite Ursa’s best efforts to teach him, it seems like everything he touches dies.

He has grown to show a way with animals, however. Any variety of frogs and toads love him; lizards of all kinds are attracted to him like he’s a magnet; furry animals big and small adore him and any type of bird-like creature seems to think he is the best human being in existence. But his favourite animals are still the turtleducks.

Back in the palace, Iroh eventually learns of Ozai’s bullshit and how he got the throne in the first place. And you know what? The time has come for Iroh to draw a line in the sand. He confronts his little brother, who confronts him back by telling him that, should he try to tell anyone in the Fire Nation the truth – that Ozai was a top-grade traitor who actually had no right to the throne –, no one would believe him. Since his brother won’t be sensible, Iroh decides that’s it: he’s fucking out.

Now a fugitive from the Fire Nation, he somehow winds up owning a lovely traveling tea shop called the Jasmin Dragon. Most people don’t even suspect he is the fearful Dragon of the West, because he’s just so nice?

You can bet he serves blends of tea from all across the nations.

The tea shop is also a good cover up for his exchanges with the Order of the White Lotus. He gives and receives information, and does his best to help villages to either defend themselves or evacuate during Fire Nation attacks.

One day a member of the White Lotus travels to Hira’a for one reason or another and finds Zuko and Azula. This person then sends a letter to Iroh.

Iroh comes to Hira’a to visit the family. He’s glad to see they’re ok, even if he can’t stay for too long. But long enough for some Quality Time – these kids have grown so much!

Iroh doesn’t know of Ursa’s part in Azulon’s assassination, and only assumes she knew of Ozai’s plan. But now, it’s time that her children learned a couple of things, and he is willing to teach them, so that when the time arrives for them to meet their destiny, they should be able to choose wisely and face whatever comes their way. So he asks the children to accompany him in his travels.

Ursa doesn’t want to let them go. They’re children, they should be here living a peaceful life, not meeting some grand, dangerous destiny! What if something horrible happened to them?

Iroh understands the pain of losing a child. He doesn’t want to make Ursa spend her time worrying about losing two, so he respects her decision and soon leaves the town.

But the siblings are not about to just sit here when they know they’re destined for something greater. What incredible knowledge did their uncle hold? Did their father have something to do with this? They always knew there was more to their fate than just living in Hira’a for the rest of their lives, and this is their chance; it’s now or never.

Zuko and Azula are about to sneak out and follow Iroh when Noren spots them. But instead of trying to stop them – he is well aware that he can’t – he gives them two masks and some advice about never forgetting who they were.

Why yes, I am saying that they eventually take the masks and become partners in crime, Zuko as the Blue Spirit and Azula as the Red Spirit, because parallels.

They catch up with their uncle and adventures and shenanigans issue as Zuko, Azula and Iroh cross the Earth Kingdom.

Now imagine this trio: two of the most awkward firebending teenagers travelling with their old tea-loving uncle, who spits proverbs like he’s made of them. The possibilities for both hilarious and heart-warming moments are endless.

Iroh thinks himself a matchmaker. Whenever he thinks he sees some romance going on, he encourages his nephew or niece to make a move. His flaming cupid arrows do more damage than good, yet he only has good intentions at heart. Teens all around the kingdom encourage you to stop, sir.

Their new life is even more humbling than in Hira’a, since they are constantly travelling. But they manage, and they know their uncle is nothing but wise… even if Azula is still quite arrogant and manipulative, and Zuko is impatient and hot-headed, which can lead to a lot of conflict.

Iroh teaches them both how to create and redirect lightning. Zuko is better at redirecting than Azula. Creating it, on the other hand, is a bit more complicated, and both of them get their fair share of explosions while learning. Neither of them really gets a hang of it – although Azula is better at it than Zuko, that’s not saying much – for they still have a lot of identity-related turmoil inside them that won’t let them grasp the energy.

Guess who else teaches them? Other members of the White Lotus. Both Zuko and Azula get some swordsmanship Skills™ from Piandao, some different (and somewhat unwillingly taught) firebending technics from Jeong-Jeong and a lot of things from Bumi, including but not limited to: creative thinking, the art of patience, strategic planning, dealing with pirates and a surprising amount of rocks-related knowledge.

Bumi adopted Zuko and Azula and gave himself the role of Second Uncle. You cannot convince me otherwise.

So one day, little over a year after the siblings joined Iroh, they wind up in a city where this big circus is performing. Uncle Iroh decides to take his niece and nephew to see it. And oh, aren’t they surprised by who they see performing?

Even though Ty Lee was essentially the only one between her sisters to befriend Azula – and consequentially, the only one to periodically spend time in the palace with her –, Zuko and Iroh still have a hard time distinguishing her from the six other girls who look exactly like her, uncertainly calling her all different names before Azula snaps ‘you idiots, that’s Ty Lee!’.

The acrobat is so glad to see her friend again, because damn: it’s been nearly four years since they last saw or even heard from each other! And Zuko, I thought you were dead? This is such a neat reunion, there’s so much for them to talk about! And sure, the circus has to leave soon and so do the siblings, but Ty Lee reassures them that, if they ever needed her, she wasn’t hard to find. This isn’t the last we’ll see of Ty Lee.

Azula doesn’t let it show, but she resents Ty Lee a little bit for choosing to abandon her noble life. She really wishes she could have had a choice.

Uncle Iroh tells the siblings stories about the war that would have some day mesmerized them. But now, his opinions about those events and what he did as a prince general have changed; that, along with what the family sees in their journey – all the horrors brought to innocent people – gives Zuko and Azula a new perspective on what they used to think was a greater good. It will still take a while for Azula to understand that no, these people are no lesser than her and for Zuko to understand why any of that matters.

Iroh eventually tells them the truth about Azulon’s death. Or at least, what he knows of it: their father killed Azulon, banished them, took the throne by force and planned to gain more power at the expense of everyone. This is a lot to take in, and the siblings don’t quite believe it.

After four years thinking about it, Zuko and Azula decided to take their mother’s early words – they went to Hira’a to be safe – and formulate what for them was a reasonable scenario. They believe that Ozai never actually wanted any of this to happen. The whole family had to have been in danger, be it due to some political, social or personal threat, and Ozai wanted to take it all by himself to protect them. So he sent his wife and children away, concocted a plan with Azulon to cover for them and, once Azulon died and left him the throne, remarried to keep appearances. To Zuko and Azula, this makes perfect sense. And they thoroughly convince themselves of that.

They initiate an argument, thinking that Iroh is jealous of Ozai.

Their uncle sees these children are starting to stray from their path, but he knows this is a necessary journey for them. They will never be able to deal with reality unless they face it.

The siblings leave Iroh, planning to head straight to the Fire Nation capital and find out what really happened. Maybe now that they are older, it would be a perfect time to come back home; they surely could defend themselves from any threats.

Of course, they’ll be very disappointed to know that Ozai was just a bitch and never actually cared for any of them.

I don’t have a full formed idea about how their reencounter with their father would go down, but I say Ozai would officially banish both his children from the Fire Nation for trying to cause a commotion – which could easily be perceived as a threat. Not only that, but Zuko and Azula are the children of a traitor; cue for Ozai revealing what happened that night four years ago, confirming that he was the one to kill Azulon with Ursa’s help.

I also think that, after that day, the Firelord would have discreetly helped spread rumours about Ursa that would drag her name through the mud in the Capital – was she cheating on Ozai? Was she selling Fire Nation information to the Earth Kingdom? Was she planning a coup against the Firelord? Her crimes change from mouth to mouth. In the end, no one would take Zuko or Azula back unless Ozai wanted it. But he doesn’t. Not now, at least…

But Ozai also decides to play with his options: he plants a seed of doubt in his children’s minds; should they prove themselves useful later on, it would only take pulling a few strings for them to come crawling back to him. So he tells them that they needed to prove themselves for everyone to see that they weren’t traitors like their mother. They needed to prove their worth so that he could accept them.

Ozai goes a step further with Azula and tells her that, before his demise, Firelord Azulon had a plan. A plan to bring her back and put her in the leading, prestigious role she was always meant to get. But they needed to wait for the right time. There is a right time, Princess Azula. Your hopes were right all along, they will come for you eventually if you prove yourself.

The siblings have a lot to think about while they’re leaving the Fire Nation. They idolized Ozai so much all these years. But the undeniable truth came crashing down on their heads, spoken by the man himself. What would they do now? They didn’t think it possible, but their harsh actions made things so much worse: they couldn’t come back to their mother, they didn’t have many hopes of running into Iroh again, they can’t even set foot in their homeland anymore; Zuko and Azula are all on their own.

Maybe it’s time to turn a new leaf. It starts with them being fairly neutral, not completely loyal to either the Fire Nation or to the rest of the world. During this period, they would argue a lot about what to do or where to go next, getting separated and going their own ways before destiny makes them stick together again, over and over.

They manage to get a few deals and own a few favours here and there, become known thieves as the Spirits, and maybe meet up with Ty Lee’s circus every now and again. Life is hard.

But there is one thing that is about to be a beacon in their darkness…

Time to catch up to the show. Oh, you thought I wouldn’t go there?

Part 3 coming right up!

(I know I said this would be a two-parter, but it got ridiculously long, so I split it again. Three-parter now.)

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here4theheartbreak · 4 years

Text

Spring Fever (MinJoon)

AO3 Link Here!

✩ Relationships: minjoon (Jimin x Namjoon) ✩ Genre(s): fluff

✩ Rating: General ✩ Tags: fluff, getting together, self confidence issues

✩ Summary: Spring fever is a real thing, and Jimin is really sick of it.

✩ A/N: Written for @chimknj for the drabble requests, prompt #14: Vernorexia (romantic mood inspired by spring - lit. spring fever)

✩ Word Count: ~2.6k

“Did you hear that Hoseok and Yoongi started dating yesterday?” Taehyung asked, tossing the magazine he’d been skimming onto the floor. He flopped onto his back, letting his head hang over the edge of the bed.

Jimin rolled his eyes from his spot on the floor, back against his dresser. “Fucking shocker. They’ve been eye fucking for two months.”

Taehyung scowled. “What crawled up your ass? I thought you’d be happy for them.”

Jimin sighed, closing his eyes. “I am. I’m just… I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I am. They’re a cute couple. Go right along well with you and Jin.”

Taehyung’s scowl shifted to a pout. He crawled off the bed and over to Jimin, sitting next to him. “Are you jealous of Jin, Jiminie? Because you know you don’t have to be. You’re my best friend.”

“’M not jealous of Jin.” He muttered. “Not like that.”

“But you are? Kinda then?”

“And of you. And Hobi, and Yoongi. And every other fucking person suddenly coming up with a lover.” Jimin wrapped his arms around his knees, putting his chin on them. “It’s stupid. I hate this stupid season with the dumb flowers and the long days and the picnics.” He made a small ‘hmph’ noise and sunk his face into his arms.

“Ahh,” Taehyung said with a soft understanding. “Jimin… You don’t have to be lonely.”

“Easy for you to say.” He looked up at Taehyung. “You and Jin have only been dating for a month and it’s pretty fucking clear you’re soulmates. He chose you even though he got teased for liking someone so much younger. He is head over heels for you, and I’m sure Yoongi’s gonna be the same with Hobi. Nobody wants me. I’m just the ugly, angry little person tagging along with the beautiful ones.”

“Hey!” Taehyung snapped, and Jimin startled, looking at him.

“Why are you yelling at me?”

“Because you shouldn’t talk about yourself like that. You’re beautiful Jimin. Your dancing is phenomenal and you’re so clever and caring. You’re a great listener and you defend your friends with your whole heart. You get angry but it’s usually for good reason. Just because you have a temper doesn’t mean you’re unworthy of love. And you aren’t tagging along with us. I resent that. You’re just as much a part of our friend group as everyone else.”

Jimin lowered his gaze again. “I’m normally not bugged by this, you know? It just feels like lately… Even Taemin is talking about that girl he’s into. Everybody is finding their love and I’m still sitting here alone.”

“It’s Spring,” Taehyung shrugged as he spoke, “romance is in the air, that kind of crap… But you aren’t helpless, Jimin. If you want a lover, why not go out and find them? I know you like someone.”

“He doesn’t like me like that, you know it.”

“Have you ever asked?”

“Namjoon is way too good for me,” Jimin argued. This wasn’t a new argument; he’d been in love with their mutual friend for nearly a year now. And every time Taehyung brought up asking him out, the excuses flowed like water from Jimin’s pretty lips.

“Namjoon is an idiot who trips over air and burns water,” Taehyung argued.

“Don’t talk about him like that. He’s smarter than you,” Jimin grumped, and Taehyung smirked.

“You’re so so head over heels for him and you can’t see it. You can’t see him either. I swear, Jimin… They say people can’t see the forest for the trees, but you’re opposite. You’re too busy staring at the whole damn forest and the storm clouds moving in another direction to notice the beauty of the redwood right in front of you.” He sighed. “And it is one… Beautiful specimen. Tall and broad and just….”

“Dude, you have a boyfriend,” Jimin said. Taehyung grinned.

“And even with one of those I can appreciate the aesthetic appeal of a gorgeous young redwood in a forest of box elders.”

“Would you stop comparing Namjoon to a fucking tree?!” Jimin cried, laughing at the absurdity of it.

Taehyung pouted innocently. “Namjoon. Namu. I see no difference. And you don’t see the reality in front of you.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that? The redwood’s gonna fall for the boab tree?”

“Well, considering those two species don’t even exist in the same place, no. But the redwood might appreciate the beautiful foxglove growing around the base of his trunk. Deadly and stunning… But worth admiring, if you’d just give them a chance.” Taehyung reached out and stroked Jimin’s cheek. “You look down on yourself so much, Jimin. But you’re so worth it. If you’d just give yourself a chance… And if you’d give Namjoon a chance.”

Jimin shook his head, opting to stay silent. He knew he’d lose any argument about this with Taehyung; it wasn’t worth fighting it. Taehyung sighed. He elbowed Jimin lightly.

“Wanna play a game?”

“Yeah, I do,” Jimin agreed, relieved he dropped the subject. But even as they sat on the bed and bickered over who was taking the most loot in their video game, the chipper chirping of the birds outside, and the cool breeze wafting in the scent of plum and cherry blossoms left an ache of lonely longing in Jimin’s heart.

***

‘Do you wanna go hiking with me today?’

Jimin chewed his lip, staring at the text. It was innocuous; not like Namjoon had never invited him places before. They were friends. But it felt so different. Probably something to do with the discussion he and Taehyung had had only a few days before, and the incessant feeling that Jimin was being slapped in the face with others’ happiness. He considered declining, if only to save himself the heartache when the inevitable happy, sappy couple would come by them on the hiking trail. But the opportunity to hang out with Namjoon was – as always – too damn good to pass up. He loved spending time with Namjoon, especially out in nature. Namjoon loved nature, and Jimin loved seeing it.

‘Sure – what time?’ He responded back.

The two texted back and forth for a few minutes, deciding the logistics of their planned outing, before Jimin rose to dress. It was something casual, just between friends. Just a regular old hike. He didn’t need his nice shorts or his cute t-shirt. He didn’t need to wear his good cologne or apply just a little gloss to his pouty lips… He didn’t need to, but he did anyway.

Unfortunately for Jimin, all the nice dressing in the world couldn’t prevent the ache that formed as soon as he met up with Namjoon and began to walk along the quiet trail. Everywhere he looked, it seemed, were lovers, cuddling on park benches or stopped under trees as they shared quiet kisses. Laughter and shouts of joy added to the storm clouds in Jimin’s mind. It only took the constantly thoughtful Namjoon fifteen minutes to pull Jimin off the path.

“What’s the matter?”

“What? Nothing.”

“Yeah, there is. You’ve barely done more than grunt at me.” Namjoon scowled. “If you didn’t want to come, you didn’t have to say yes.”

Panic bubbled up in Jimin’s chest. “No, no,” he said quickly, waving his hands. “I do. I did, I want to be here. I like doing this with you.”

“Then why are you such a grouch?”

Jimin shrugged, lowering his gaze. “It’s stupid. I’ll work on it.” He offered a bright smile, hoping it was convincing. “Look over there, that plum blossom tree. Let me take a picture of you in front of it.” His smile wavered when a young couple holding hands approached the tree he was pointing at, taking a selfie by it.

Namjoon looked over then back at Jimin, his brows losing their knit as his entire expression softened. He looked back to the couple.

“They look happy, huh?”

“Yeah,” Jimin muttered, looking anywhere but at the couple. “Come on, I’m sure there’ll be a nice tree I can get a picture of you with up ahead.”

He started walking, entirely aware that it was now Namjoon being sullen and silent next to him. They turned down another path, filled with a variety of blossoming trees, and Jimin’s eyes welled with unexpected tears. He blinked them away, trying to keep his face from Namjoon. He didn’t exactly know why he was crying. The scent of the trees, the overwhelming urge just to grab Namjoon’s hand, the peace… It was too much.

“Jimin, can I confess something?” Namjoon whispered, his voice just audible over the wind through the branches.

“Of course,” Jimin’s voice was soft as well, trying not to show he’d been struggling against tears.

“I’m lonely.”

Namjoon’s confession fell like a brick in Jimin’s stomach. He looked over at Namjoon, who smiled weakly. “Hoseok and Yoongi got together, you know?”

Jimin nodded. “And Tae and Jin.”

“And Jungkook’s been flirting with Eunwoo… Hobi thinks they’re gonna start dating soon.”

“Yeah.” Jimin looked back down, not sure what to say. They walked in silence a little longer before Namjoon spoke again.

“Do you know why everyone gets together in the spring?”

“No.”

“It’s a phenomenon they call Vernorexia. Spring fever. Something about the melting of the snow and blooming of the flowers and trees that just puts everyone in a lovey mood. It’s also why some people get so grumpy despite the increase in Vitamin D.”

Jimin chuckled. “I get it.”

“I guess it’s nice. Everyone getting together,” Namjoon said, looking around. He sighed. “Just kinda empty feeling… Being alone during it all.” He looked over at Jimin, smiling sadly. “I’m kind of tired of being alone, Jimin.”

“Me too,” Jimin said. “I heard Ashley is single, she likes you.”

“You know I’m not into girls.”

“I don’t know any single guys you’d want, sorry.”

“I do,” Namjoon said. He grabbed Jimin’s wrist, stopping them on the path. Jimin’s heart leapt into his throat. Namjoon was so close… Before he could really process what was happening, Namjoon went forward, his eyes closing. Jimin’s eyes widened. Not him, it couldn’t be him. Instinctively, he pushed him back, and Namjoon nearly fell, righting himself.

He looked at Jimin with a shocked gaze. “Oh God, did I misunderstand?”

“What?” Jimin asked, his breath coming quickly. Namjoon had almost kissed him.

“I thought…” Namjoon shook his head. “God, I’m a fool. I’m so sorry, I’d never invade your space like that. I thought you liked me, I—Taehyung mentioned it in passing and I—I’ve had a crush on you forever but I never thought it’d work so I…” He scratched the back of his head, his cheeks pinking up adorably. “I’m so sorry, I probably freaked you out trying to kiss you like that. I’m not a creep, I promise.”

Jimin shook his head. He waved his hands, trying to get Namjoon to stop panic rambling. He finally grabbed his upper arms. “You like me?”

Namjoon’s body sagged a little. “Is that so disturbing? I ruined our friendship, didn’t I? I know I’m not much. You’re so talented and beautiful and you’re definitely going to be a star. I’m… I’m just Namjoon.”

Jimin gaped, Namjoon’s words settling like a punch to his stomach, painful and deep. “I’ve been in love with you for a year, Namjoon,” he whispered.

Namjoon looked up. “Then why—Why did you push me away just now?”

“Because you don’t want someone like me. I’m ugly and short and awkward and kinda dumb. I get angry at the stupidest things and I’m not near as slender or muscular as Tae or Jin, even as a dancer Hobi has me beat—”

“You are kind of dumb,” Namjoon agreed. Jimin blinked, surprised.

Namjoon smiled, reaching for Jimin. He stroked his face. “You’re dumb if you think any of those things are true. Or those that are, if you think they matter… You are short and you do have a temper… But they don’t matter to me. For months I’ve dreamed of dating you, holding your hand, kissing you, and… More.” Namjoon smiled weakly. “It’s gotten worse with springtime. I feel like there’s this constant stupid emptiness in my guts and I am so, so angry at all the happy couples. I just want to reach out and grab someone… You and tell you how I feel. That’s what today was about. When Tae mentioned you maybe liking me, I figured now was the time to take my shot, even though I thought I wouldn’t ever be enough for you.”

Jimin’s heart was pounding so loud he worried Namjoon could hear it. He flung himself forward, wrapping his arms around Namjoon’s neck in a painfully tight hug. “You’re more than enough, Namjoon,” Jimin whispered. “You’re my redwood.”

Namjoon laughed, hugging Jimin back. “Your redwood?” He asked, putting his mouth against Jimin’s shoulder. His breath was warm, drawing goosebumps over Jimin’s arms.

“Mhm. Tall and lean and strong… Always someone that will support me when I’m weak. Someone who can last forever. Tae mentioned it and I—He was right.”

“Ah, I see.” Namjoon rubbed his hands lightly over Jimin’s back. “And what did our Taehyung liken my sweet Minie to?”

Jimin’s breath caught when Namjoon called him sweet. He called him sweet. And his.

“Foxglove,” Jimin whispered.

“Bright and beautiful, but deadly if you don’t handle with care,” Namjoon confirmed. Jimin nodded. He felt Namjoon pulling away and squeezed tighter, not wanting to let go. He did though, and Namjoon smiled down at him. “I’ve always found foxglove to be a beautiful flower. Something to be handled delicately and appreciated for its brightness… But respected.” Namjoon curled his fingers under Jimin’s chin, tilting his head up a little. “I want to kiss you, Jimin. Is that okay?”

Jimin nodded. “Yes. If… If you promise me something first.”

“What?”

“That you won’t go away once the spring rains stop.”

Namjoon smiled wider, shaking his head. “I’ll be around much longer than that, I promise you. As long as you’ll have me, Minie.”

He closed the space between their lips, and this time Jimin didn’t jerk away. He leaned forward, meeting Namjoon’s mouth. As they kissed, he draped his arms over Namjoon’s shoulders, pressing against him. He was kissing Namjoon. Really kissing him. His mouth was soft and tasted faintly of mint. Jimin tried not to grin when the kiss deepened naturally, their tongues brushing together.

When they separated, Jimin brushed his nose against Namjoon’s. “You’re not alone anymore.”

“Neither are you,” Namjoon whispered.

“Do you want to go out tonight? A real date?”

Namjoon nodded. He straightened up, shifting over as another couple passed them. He smirked a little, looking at Jimin.

“Still make you grumpy?”

“Not even a little,” Jimin said, barely glancing at the couple. He couldn’t take his eyes off Namjoon. “I’ve got exactly what I need.”

Namjoon took his hand, twining their fingers as they began to walk again.

The sweet scent of the blossoms no longer twisted Jimin’s stomach into a ball of frustration, and the laughter of other couples was no longer grating to his ears. Now he could see the colors, the breeze was comforting and the scent of the blossoms brightened his mood further. Namjoon’s hand fit his perfectly, and the two walked in a comfortable silence as they looked for a good spot to eat the lunch Namjoon had packed.

Vernorexia, Namjoon had called it. Spring fever. Whatever it was, Jimin had found his cure. It was in the form of his beautiful, smart redwood of a man, and it was the best medicine he’d ever had.

#bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub #thebtsficarchive #kwritersworldnet #btsguild #networkbangtan #boymeetsmxm #bangtanidx #bangtanxm #minjoonrecs #minjoon #fluff #mywriting

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moonstruckbucky · 5 years

Text

Crown of Thorns (1/?)

Summary: Arranged to be married to the great King Steven, the Reader comes to discover he is not all as she was told. He’s cold and callous and indifferent to their union. Is she really so doomed to live the rest of her life in a loveless marriage?

Pairing: King!Steve Rogers x fem!Reader, King!Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

The throne room is cold, feels foreign to you despite how much time you spend here, despite the tapestries strung up along the walls to keep the heat in during the colder months. Your dress, made of a beautiful lilac wool, does nothing for the iciness seeping into your veins. Fingers white-knuckled in the skirt of the gown, pulse racing as panic rises within you, your father’s words merely an echo in the hall.

Arranged to be married.

They’re not strange words to you. You’re a princess, and marrying a king is your royal duty. You’ve known this is to be your destiny and yet, the idea of it terrifies you, makes a cold sweat break out on your forehead as your Queen mother sits forward in concern. The notion of marrying a man you’ve never met, never even seen, makes your hands tremble. The prospect of ruling an entire country makes your knees quake, threatens to buckle them under its weight.

With what feels like water—or is that your blood?—in your ears, you realize your father is still awaiting an answer. Swallowing around the dry lump in your throat, you curtsy, just barely.

“Yes, Father. It would be...it would be…” the words are stuck in your throat. A glance at your mother, an understanding nod, and you press on, “It would be an honor to serve my kingdom.”

Your father is no fool; you know he sees right through it, but he says nothing. Dismisses you with a solemn nod of his head, a frown twitching at his mouth. In a flurry of skirts you skitter back to your room - walk, don’t run. Your handmaiden, Wanda, struggles to keep up, and you feel slightly guilty when you close the door to your chambers on her. But, you need time alone, time to think, time to grieve for your soon-to-be-lost freedom, before you’re tied to a man who may very well not be the same kind as your father.

You let loose your panic, your tears, your fears as soon as you hit your feather-bed. The sheets are damp in seconds as you cry, a dark patch in the fabric of your pillow. You hug it tighter to your chest. Soon, you’ll be surrounded by strangers, sleep in a bed that isn’t your own, eat food that tastes odd, learn the alien customs of another nation.

You know it’s your duty, know it would come to this at some point, but you’re still shocked, still rendered terrified over the notion of leaving your country. It’s signing away what little freedom you have left - as a princess, you know certain duties and etiquette are required of you, but overall, you have a fairly decent life. You’re allowed to wander the castle and its surrounding grounds, as well as access to the village as long as you take an escort. A small price, you think, to pay for a day outside the castle walls.

Now, you’re sure you’ll be kept inside, forced to curtsy and sew and gossip with the other ladies of the court. Your wings will be clipped and you’ll be caged, left to simply daydream of feeling the sunshine on your skin. The horrifying question makes your lip wobble: what if, in this new country, there is no sunshine? What if it’s a dark and damp and cruel place to live? A place where all color has been smothered in shades of grey.

That thought terrifies you almost more than that of marrying a complete stranger. A man who, for all you know, is unkind and mean and angry. A man who’ll take from you only what he needs - your body - and will otherwise ignore your existence. At least, if there is color in what is to be your new home, you can find some reprieve, some escape. Perhaps a garden to hide away in, a lake or river to sit by and read, lose yourself in stories of true romance, adventure, fantasy.

Wanda comes by later, a meek, shy smile on her face, to bring you food from the dinner you’d missed. You’d been so wrapped up in your thoughts, your sadness, you completely ignored the pangs of hunger until your belly lurched sharply.

You eat slowly at the insistence of your handmaiden, who meanwhile prepares a hot bath filled with lovely oils and fresh lavender to relax you. The water is steaming as you lower yourself into the tub, hissing as the hot water scalds your skin in the most comforting way. The aroma of oils and lavender eases your mind, relieves the tension in your shoulders as you sink deeper into the water, until only your head from your nose upward is exposed.

Wanda washes you gently, her nails scraping over your scalp as she scrubs your hair. It nearly lulls you to sleep. Eyelids heavy, your head lolls back and forth on your neck as she scrubs.

“Wanda?” you question sleepily, eyes closed.

“Yes, Princess?”

You open one eye and turn your head to pin her with a look. She simpers, corrects herself and uses your given name.

“You’ll come with me, won’t you?”

She doesn’t comment on it, but you know she hears the twinge of fear, of unsureness in your voice behind the sudden exhaustion. Her hands smooth over your hair as she urges you to tilt your head back, allowing her to rinse the suds from your hair. It fans out around you like a halo, the suds providing some mild entertainment for your idle fingers as you wait.

“Nothing could keep me from you, my love,” she assures gently in her pretty accent.

In your sleepy state, it reassures you. At least you won’t be completely alone.

Two weeks later, your belongings are loaded onto the back of a wagon and a pair of ebony horses are hitched the front of your carriage. They prance and snort, eager to be on their way. You, on the other hand, are the complete opposite.

Your feet feel leaden, frozen to the ground just feet away from the carriage. Fists tangled in your skirts, much like the day you’d been sold to another king. No, you think, not sold - your father loves you too much for that. You know if he’d had any power to stop it, he would have. But in order to build an alliance with the bordering country of Mannheim, he’d had no choice. You understand, fault him not for doing his duty to his kingdom.

He smiles solemnly at you now in the courtyard, adorned in the colors of your country - gold on dusty blue, his doublet emblazoned with the golden rose sigil of your house. Your mother wears charcoal grey, the bodice of the gown embroidered with golden vines that twist and turn downward into the skirt. She’s glassy-eyed, rims red, heartbroken over losing her only daughter.

You swallow down the tightness in your throat and are urged forward towards the carriage. The boots on your feet scuff along the path, and if it weren’t such a sad day, you know your mother would have your head. Today, though, she seems to care not for your otherwise poor etiquette. She brushes her hands down the sleeves of your gown, smiling wetly before she urges you into the carriage.

It’s a long ride to Mannheim, and though the carriage is spacious, it’s stifling. You fidget in the seat, hands wringing together, then playing with the end of your hair, then tangled in your skirt again. Your mother’s lips are pursed, no doubt in irritation, and you can tell she wants to say something. However, she remains silent and lets you vent out your nervousness.

The carriage dips and rolls, jostles its passengers as the rolling landscape of your country begins to fade. The vibrant green hills turn quickly to dense forestry, shallow rivers and wooden bridges. In the carriage, it’s quiet, until your father begins to speak.

“We’ll be guests of honor for His Highness, King Steven. At the end of the week, he’ll hopefully have come to a decision.”

You scrunch your eyebrows, tilt your head not unlike a curious puppy. “Decision? What decision?”

“The decision to marry you, my dear,” your mother finishes, though she looks a bit sheepish to admit it. You feel cold all of a sudden, despite the cloying humidity that seeps in from the thick trees.

“What? What do you mean? I-I thought the decision had been made? That I was to be his Queen?”

Your father has the grace to look mildly embarrassed. “Well, there is a courting period. A week, usually, during which you’ll spend time with the King and should he desire you, the ceremony shall be had.”

You’re unsure how this makes you feel. Nervous, surely, for now you need to earn the King’s approval. Underneath though, you swear you feel...giddy. Girlish joy at the thought of actually being courted like in one of your storybooks. The corners of your mouth twitch just a bit in happy anticipation. Your mother attempts a smile but she looks...troubled, almost, not quite as excited for you. Your father merely averts his eyes out the window.

It’s a mostly quiet ride, peppered conversation here and there about Mannheim, and what life there might entail for you. It doesn’t escape you, however, that both of your parents seem reluctant to discuss in detail your potential betrothed, King Steven. While you’re sure your father wouldn’t sell you off to a brute, there’s a stab of trepidation within your chest. Blunt, but it’s there.

At some point, you end up dozing. Light but restful nap that you’re pulled out of when the carriage lurches hard again. Bleary-eyed, you look out the window, see that the landscape has once again changed. Where there used to be dense forest, now is a flat, golden ocean that ebbs and flows with the breeze. It expands as far as you can see, and while it isn’t the lush green of your country, it isn’t exactly terrible.

There are no clouds in the sky, which is a rich, beautiful blue. It blends perfectly with the hue of the grass, a brilliant bronze that rivals the treasure from your novels. Among the grass you can make out shapes - horses, you think, three of them. All deep blue-black under the rays of the sun. One of them lifts its head, its wide neck arching as it looks towards the caravan.

You’re drawn to them, like something the alchemist calls a magnet. The other two have lifted their heads curiously, watching the caravan as it passes, and then the biggest of the three shakes his head, hooves thundering as he leads the small herd down the hill and out of sight, black muscled bodies rippling, legs lifting high as they gallop away.

“Friesians,” your father supplies, seeing the look of wonderment on your face. “Native to this country. Strong as oxen and just as stubborn. But they bond to their masters like no other horses. They possess a loyalty deeper than I’ve ever seen.”

You smile wistfully at him, listen as he goes on to tell you about how the Friesians had first been tamed. It feels like the time goes faster this way, with your father indulging your childhood fantasies of taming wild horses and riding off into the sun.

The next time you peer out the window, you’re surrounded by a small village. Your father informs you you’re just outside the castle walls. All at once your belly is fluttering with nerves, and you even notice your hands shaking just a little. Swallowing heavily, you assess the village and its inhabitants. Men, women, and children alike stop their chores to gawk at the incoming caravan.

The colors of Mannheim are far more dull than those of your home. Where a rainbow of greens, yellows, blues, and purples filled the streets with color, here it is a puddle of browns, greys, and dark greens.

Despite the brightness of the grass and sky surrounding, everything else about Mannheim seems far duller.

Chapter Two

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve x you #steve x reader #king!au #king!steve #king!steve x you #king!steve rogers x you #king!steve rogers x reader #medieval au

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