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highladyandromeda · 3 months

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Shadows of the Heart

Part 5

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: After years apart, Y/n returns to Velaris, bearing the weight of sacrifice and secrets from her past. Reunited with Rhysand and his Inner Circle, she navigates the complexities of rekindled friendships and unresolved tensions.

WC: 3.1k

Warnings: mentions of blood, self-inflicted injury, a brief moment with unhealthy thoughts about body image (this is specifically marked with 1 star (*) at the start and 2 stars (**) at the end), unhealthy thoughts about pushing oneself too far

[Prologue], [Part 1], [Part 2], [Part 3], [Part 4]

Y/n was exhausted.

She could feel her muscles ache as she dipped deeper into the bath the house had drawn for her. The smell of tuberose and neroli drifted up from the bubbles surrounding her, the perfectly warm temperature adding to the pleasant atmosphere.

Yet she couldn’t get herself to relax a drop. Come to training, they said…it’ll be fun, they said…what liars, she thought.

Who invites an injured and recent coma patient to train, at dawn no less? Isn’t this the bloody Night Court? Y/n fumed, why do they all wake up so early now?

A glass of wine appeared by her side as if the house sensed her irritation as well.

Sighing she picked it up, and finished it immediately, a bottle appearing once she placed the glass down. She let out a laugh, wondering if she should feel offended that the house assumed her morale was so low. As if understanding her thoughts, a bottle of whiskey appeared and disappeared next to the wine, before a series of books dropped down. Judging by the titles and bits of conversation from last night, Y/n had a feeling the house was using a…tried and tested method of comforting raging females.

And speaking of rage, she was quickly losing the high of recusing Mor and returning to Velaris. Yes, she was exhilarated to see her family thriving, but the duties she had would quickly catch up to her. Counting down, it had been nearly 3 weeks since she disappeared from Vallahan and the magic tower must be getting frantic now. Not to mention, Demetrius, who’s sure to assign her so much work, that she’d not have a chance to leave the tower once she’d returned, or Ryder, who’s definitely praying that she’s dead in a ditch somewhere. Y/n knew she could use the investigation for the cult, the same cult she felt poisoned Mor, as her cover, but that excuse could only hold for so long.

Ugh. Stupid Rhys and his stupid bargains. She hoped Demetrius would receive her message fast enough, the only reason she forced herself to the training ring before sunrise. Her mediation session was a chance for her to send a holo projection to Demetrius’s office. The time-consuming aspect was not bypassing the wards of the house, which she should actually speak to Rhys about strengthening, but rather condensing her…situation and what she wanted him to do, as to expel the least amount of energy. Teleportation with blood meant her magic would take a longer time to recover. Besides, the last thing she needs is someone sensing her magical signature in the tower when she's been away for so long.

Luckily, she was able to mask her communications from the IC with her subsequent spar, which she convinced herself was necessary. It wasn’t because the moment she locked eyes with Azriel, she had this urge, this desperate desire to know what it would be like to go one-on-one with him.

No, she only offered because she knew she could last as the participant of a spar, rather than give up control for exercises or obstacles which would reveal her current weaknesses. She refused to think further on how beautifully he moved and met all her strikes, and how pretty he looked under her–No, think Vallahan, magic tower, angry masters….

Just recounting it all was giving her a headache, Y/n thought, dunking her head underneath the water. She almost wishes it could swallow her whole right there, and give her a reprieve from this.

She came back up gasping, water sloshing onto the floor.

*Y/n grabbed a towel, standing up and deciding that she might go too far should she stay in there any longer. She faced the mirror while drying herself off, looking closely at how prominent her collarbones were and how her ribs hit out. She looked away, trying to bury the simultaneous discomfort and pleasure she felt, the same as the morning when she changed into her leathers and needed to tighten them with her magic.

Y/n knew that she looked unhealthy and her magic could only take her so far if she let her body fail, but a voice at the back of her mind enjoyed the visuals, a lasting validation of her struggles. With her magic usually healing her immediately, Y/n rarely got the chance to convey her struggles, always pushing forward since it seemed the pain was never there in the first place. She briefly wondered if Azriel would understand, he seemed to know that sort of darkness, of both craving and despising it. **

Feeling a bit claustrophobic, she decided to step out onto a balcony before dinner, knowing that everyone would be there after she missed lunch. Though she could already feel her appetite disappearing at the thought of facing Amren and Nesta’s piercing gazes, not to mention Mor and Rhys’s overt concern. She raised a hand to her head, trying to rub away another impending headache before halting right at the balcony entrance.

Mother above, Y/n felt herself freeze in horror, unable to look away from the smeared and dried runes. All in blood, all in her blood. No wonder she slept for so long if she kept losing even more blood after this she thought, a cold dread settling in her bones.

Why is it still here…The thought that Rhys might hesitate to erase them, out of fear or respect, and that Amren and Nesta might see them as a curiosity to be studied, only deepened her sense of isolation. How could they not see the horror in what those runes represented?

The world began to tilt, a disorienting spiral that made her stomach churn. The vast sky above seemed to press down on her, the air growing thick and heavy, a physical force that threatened to crush her.

"Are you okay?" The concern in the question was palpable, but it only served to startle her further.

Cauldron boil me, Y/n thought, spinning around so quickly her knees gave way beneath her. But before she could fall, strong, calloused hands steadied her, the familiar touch of shadows wrapping around her with an almost protective embrace. She didn't need to see his face to know who it was—the shadows were a signature she'd come to recognize.

"Y/n, are you alright? You seem faint," the voice came again, soft and concerned, lifting her gently until she was forced to meet his eyes—hazel orbs filled with a depth of concern and understanding that momentarily stilled the chaos within her.

It was a connection, fragile and fleeting, but in that instant, Y/n realized she wasn't as alone as she had felt. The shadows that enveloped her, the hands that steadied her—they were a lifeline, pulling her back from the edge of her own darkness.

She swore time stopped for a moment before she felt the hands around her quiver, his gaze drifting to the runes behind before her actions caught up to her. It was then that reality snapped back into focus for Y/n, prompting her to instinctively step back and slip out of his gentle grasp.

In her quick withdrawal, an attempt to shield her sudden vulnerability, she missed the fleeting look of disappointment that crossed Azriel's features. Y/n hurriedly filled the silence that had grown between them.

"We shouldn't keep them waiting" she announced, her voice carrying a forced lightness that couldn't quite mask the disquiet lurking beneath. Her smile, tentative and fleeting, was an attempt to hide the depth of her unease from Azriel’s perceptive gaze.

Dinner was a silent affair, the burning stares and questions on Y/n waiting to reach the surface, especially after her display earlier that morning.

Each forkful of food echoed louder than usual until Amren, with her characteristic bluntness, pierced the quiet. "Y/n, the blood magic you used before...how did you know about it? "

Cassian, unable to resist adding to the conversation, jumped in with a grin. "Yeah, the teleportation was so cool! Are you part-witch?"

Amren's sharp glance cut him short. "She's a sorceress, you oaf. Obviously, she's mastered more than a few ancient tomes."

As Nesta voiced her curiosity, "Mastering tomes? What does that mean?" Cassian overlapped with, "How did you even find Mor?" The barrage of questions seemed to only spiral from then, with several of them wanting details on her magic and her discovery of Mor.

Amidst the several inquiries, Azriel, ever attuned to Y/n, noticed the tremble in her hands hidden under the table, a stark contrast to the calm facade she presented. His shadows stirred restlessly, a mirror to his growing concern.

Mor's complexion turned ashen as the fact dawned upon her—Y/n had ventured onto the balcony, the very place of their nightmarish ordeal. Attempts to steer the tide of questions fell on deaf ears, "Y/n, I... we didn't think..." Mor’s voice trailed off, her apologies swallowed by the growing fervor of curiosity.

Y/n took a deep breath, attempting to veil her frustration with patience, a task made increasingly difficult. They meant well, she repeated, she owed Rhys, she thought before the noise got to her. She hated being faced with curiosity and pity just as much as she hated being questioned–she had saved Mor and shown she wasn’t their enemy, wasn’t that enough?

With a huff that signaled her surrender to the inevitable, she pushed her chair back, its screech halting the interrogation, and drawing surprised glances from the table. Rising from her seat, she walked away, leaving a trail of astonishment in her wake.

Azriel reacted with swift concern, following her with a worry that mirrored the concern etched on Rhys, Mor, and even Feyre and Lucien's faces, while Cassian remained behind, a shadow of guilt tinging his features.

Y/n paused for a moment at the split between the staircase and the hallway to the balcony, debating the merits of locking herself in her room. She felt she deserved the right to scream into her pillow before rejoining them.

But the sound of footsteps behind her reminded her of the nosey nature of her friends here. If she tried to hide, there’d be no telling the lengths they’d go, she may as well just complete it now.

Upon reaching the balcony, Y/n summoned her magic, materializing a dagger in her hand. With a steady hand, she made a precise incision along her arm, her expression unflinching as crimson blossomed against her skin. She cast a fleeting glance at Azriel, her vibrant red eyes catching the light, mesmerizing him as her blood began its descent toward the magic circle below.

His shadows twitched uneasily at the sight; the others, having followed, stumbled into a collective pause, caught in a mix of awe and horror as they watched her blood reanimate the runes. Y/n commanded the runes to levitate, dripping and spinning around before she condensed them into a single, blood-diamond-like point, which then vanished within her grasp. Turning to face them with a smirk, she downplayed the gravity of her demonstration.

"See? Not a big deal," she stated, though her casual dismissal did little to ease the tension.

Azriel, moving with a purpose, reached for her, his shadows conjuring a cloth to softly wipe the blood, still dripping from her arm, away. The gentleness of his touch left Y/n taken aback, her heart skipping a beat at the care with which he wrapped her arm, his shadows having brought bandages as well. She couldn’t remember the last time someone else had treated her wounds, especially those so insignificant, so kindly.

Meeting his gaze, she was confused at his crossed expression, but before words could form, Mor enveloped her in an embrace, her apologies spilling out in a hurried flurry.

"I'm so sorry, Y/n. I should've—" Mor's voice cracked, the weight of her remorse tangible in the air between them.

"It wasn't your fault, Mor," Y/n reassured, her arms wrapping around her friend in a firm hug. "I would do it all over again for you," she whispered a vow that drew a fresh wave of tears from Mor, her embrace tightening in response.

As they finally parted, Lucien's voice cut through the momentary silence. "I must say, your control was impressive back there."

Y/n couldn't help but roll her eyes, a playful retort on her lips. "I've always been this good, Lucien. Maybe you just weren't paying attention."

His laughter echoed around them, a challenge sparking in his eyes. "Is that so? We should spar sometime then. Test out that control of yours."

Y/n pretended to be annoyed but she was grateful to him for changing the atmosphere. Lucien always knew how to put others at ease.

"Sure if you think you can keep up. Feyre, you're welcome to join his side. He'll need all the help he can get."

Rhys chimed in with feigned indignation, "And why am I excluded? My mate should be my partner."

Y/n's laughter mingled with theirs, and her spirits momentarily lifted. "Because I've beaten you too many times, Rhys. It wouldn't be fair." She teased, earning a gasp of mock indignation from him.

Their laughter was a balm, easing the tension that had settled over the dinner.

Walking back, Y/n glanced at Lucien with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. Resting her hand lightly on his shoulder, she leaned closer, her voice laden with playful intent. "Looks like we're teaming up then" she teased.

A knowing smile danced across Lucien's lips, a silent agreement forged in the span of a heartbeat. Together, they proclaimed, "We'll scatter them like leaves in a storm!"

The statement, filled with the memory of past battles, echoed around them, their laughter a symphony of friendship and challenge.

Feyre, caught in the ripple of their amusement, couldn't help but interject with a wry smile. "Well, I guess I'm stuck with Rhys then." Her words, light and teasing, were accented with the unbreakable bond she shared with her mate, even as they prepared to face off in friendly competition.

All the while, Azriel's gaze lingered on the casual touch between Y/n and Lucien, their laughter and the seamless harmony of their declaration stirring an unfamiliar pang within him. His stare was intense and unyielding, as he watched the easy rapport they shared—a connection he found himself envying, as he stood silently on the fringes of their banter.

Azriel's desire to offer Y/n the same sense of belonging and ease was palpable, yet he chose the quiet acts that spoke volumes of his intentions. As they walked back to the dining room, he found an opportunity to express his support. With a gentle touch, he slid Y/n's chair out for her, a gesture of silent solidarity that sought to make her feel seen and valued in the way he knew best.

"Thank you," she whispered, her gratitude a soft note amidst the evening's chaos of emotions. Though her gaze briefly wandered back to Lucien, caught in a moment of quiet tension with Elain, it was Azriel's thoughtful action that anchored her.

Amren's voice drew her back. "I’m sure you created quite the spectacle, sorceress”

In response to Amren's observation, Y/n met her gaze firmly. "I don't owe anyone explanations, Amren…But out of gratitude for the welcome back," she paused, weighing her next words carefully, "I will tell you that yes, I am a sorceress. A highly ranked one, at least in Vallahan’s magic tower."

Her eyes flickered to Mor, a silent pact of trust between them. She wouldn't reveal the intricacies of their reunion—how a royal meeting had spiraled into chaos and Mor's dismissal of her warnings had nearly cost them both dearly.

"Part of my work has led me to investigate a cult revering Koschei, a dark sorcerer," Y/n continued, her voice steady despite the weight of her revelations. "It was through this that I found Mor in danger. The use of blood magic wasn't a choice made lightly. It was the only method swift and silent enough to ensure our immediate return without leaving traces of magic that could be tracked. And given Mor's poisoning, traditional portals I could open—with their elongated passage of time—weren't an option."

The table fell silent, the gravity of her words settling heavily upon them. Each member of the Inner Circle sat a little straighter, their expressions alight with a mixture of awe and deepened as she explained further about her work and magic. The dinner conversation, initially subdued, blossomed into a vibrant exchange of stories and insights.

Lucien, seizing the moment, shared his own adventures and the bond he'd formed with Vassa, expressing a hopeful desire to introduce them, perhaps as a means to unravel the curse that bound the queen.

It was then that Rhys saw an opening, his voice slicing through the conversation with a proposal for Y/n. "Y/n! This is the perfect opportunity, if you feel up to it, why don't you continue your research here?"

Before Rhys could elaborate, Mor chimed in, eager to offer the resources at their disposal. "Exactly, the House of Wind has a wealth of books that could aid in your research. I can ask the priestesses to help—"

"I can help. You." Azriel's voice, cutting through Mor's suggestion, carried an uncharacteristic nervousness. "I mean, in your research. I can help you with the research." The room fell into an unusual silence, all eyes turning to him as he attempted to clarify, "If you're conducting research, that is. I don't want to rush you, of course. You need time to recover. I'm just—uh—offering since I have experience with such investigations... not to say you need my help. I—I thought it might be... more efficient, yes..."

Azriel's voice tapered off, his gaze skirting around the table to avoid Cassian and Nesta's barely concealed smirks and Rhys's poorly disguised cough of amusement. The surprise etched on everyone else's faces spoke volumes, each one silently wondering if they had ever witnessed Azriel speak so awkwardly and at length.

"Oh, I'd appreciate the company, Azriel," Y/n finally responded, her tone warm.

"You would?" Azriel's gaze snapped to Y/n, a flicker of hope lighting his eyes, only to be momentarily dimmed by her stern look toward Rhys. "Since I'll be intruding for the foreseeable future, I might as well be productive."

"I—I wouldn't want to invade, though," Azriel hurried to add, the earnestness in his voice unmistakable.

Rhys couldn't hide a snicker, quickly masked by a sudden straightening in his chair, bouncing his right leg up.

Azriel’s shadows whispered something about a kick, but his attention was already captured by Y/n's soft smile. "I'd welcome the help," she reassured, her simple acceptance igniting a spark of anticipation in Azriel.

A/N: Hi everyone, sorry for the delay in posting this chapter, I was traveling and then dying with studies. But the plot thickens...Are we curious about Y/n's work as a sorceress? I planned out the next scenes on my flight so I should have the next few chapters up in a faster succession.

And thank you to everyone who's liked/commented/reblogged this story -- it means so much to have you all enjoy this!

For my tag list, I tagged everyone who asked and those who commented on the previous parts. If you'd like to be included, please just let me know. 💕

TAGLIST: @strangelygreat @enfppuff @trip-n-sal @inloveallthetime @annamariereads16 @mybestfriendmademe @mariahoedt @annblvd @ania-swissweet @yearninglustfully @sleepylunarwolf @quiettuba @gorlillaglue25 @lilah-asteria @naturakaashi @sillymercury @itsswritten @xlosttdreamss @kennedy-brooke @xyzmeh @lucky7rosie @copenhagenspirit @collide-with-the-music @starsinyourseyes @dianxiaxiexie @maybefoxysouls @golden-canyon @violet-potter @thisiskaylin @acphengene @katherinejess @sevikas-whore @kalulakunundrum @hibye02 @madscamp02 @willowpains @jaybarding @kalulakunundrum @sevikas-whore @katherinejess @acphengene @thisiskaylin

#azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel au #azriel x y/n #acotar series #acotar #acomaf #acowar #azriel x oc #rhysand #morrigan #acotar fanfiction #azriel acotar #lucien vanserra

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classpectpokerap · 9 days

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going to go completely bugfuck insane for a little bit here. we need to talk about ultrose

Ultimate Rose, Pt. 1 (establishing facts)

ultrose is a fucking bundle of contradictions, huh?

i think its worth immediately establishing postcanon rose as a liar. specifically, there are a few crucial lies -- lies she tells herself as well -- that define the basis of ultrose. (im mostly going to be looking at candy timeline here, because meat ultrose is a whole other tin can of worms.)

the crucial scenes to compare are the last scene where she talks to john at the peak of the war, and the scene where she plays her hand in beyond canon.

i'm going to skip around this scene (candy 33), but stick with me.

this rose.

this rose right here. this rose who is happy. who loves her wife. who has *a* daughter.

this rose, as she herself describes.

is not "true."

rose firmly believes that knowledge means suffering. which, given the state of her body at the start of the prologue, probably feels deeply true! and her ailment disappearing coincides with her sight vanishing, and her knowledge of The Shape Of Postcanon slipping away. (candy 4)

"For some reason" "whatever it was she felt"

i think it's extremely important to establish here that rose wiped her own mind.

or maybe roxy wiped her mind. or the severing of meat/candy wiped her mind, but that last one feels very unlikely to me considering that this mind-wiped-state is at-will.

and we know that, because during the candy timeline, she is two things:

blind to the world

happy

and in beyond canon, this very same rose, days later, is:

too-aware, and in touch with her powers

deeply miserable

she stopped trying the moment the comic came back. she stopped trying because she never started. that was a whole ass different rose. one without the memories or powers.

if you'd allow me to be insane, i think i know which rose.

from ultdirk describing his experiences (with supplementary text from davepeta), we know what being ultimate is like. we understand that he has access to every splinter of himself, some more prominent than others.

so if rose is able to prioritize bringing one iteration of herself to the front of her mind... which rose would be the best?

which rose would be the happiest, the most pleased by living on earth c? the one blissed by love, the one who would be happy with a daughter and a wife.

it's not our main rose. she was not happy during her wedding. she didn't enjoy her life. she didn't think she'd ever be happy until after the meat/candy split happened.

you know who would have loved that?

what

what is this...... very very important thing doing here?

why is she "correcting" herself? why is she making this distinction? we haven't heard a word spoken about complacency of the learned, maybe at all, in the entire epilogues. and we know rose never really finished the story. it was just some amateur wizardfic.

but say there was another rose. a member of the gestalt, who actually DID finish writing complacency. who fought her whole life for the right to have a family, but ultimately failed.

say there was a rose who was an author.

yeah. i think the rose who gets to act out the bulk of the candy timeline (notably NOT yiffy. that was alllllllll ultrose) is alpha rose. roxy's mom. the one who fought the condesce and lost. and i think she's here simply because she's the best choice.

i mean, fuck, in hs2 rose straight up says it.

so . yeah. this is all establishing stuff for my Insane Theory. my real one about why shes doing all this. how shes doing all this. i have been sitting on this theory for months and if you thought "candy rose is alpha earth rose" is unhinged you aint seen nothing yet

gloves are canon

part 2 is here.

#hs meta #homestuck #rose lalonde #alpha rose lalonde #beyond canon #homestuck meta #homestuck beyond canon #homestuck epilogues #candy rose #ultimate rose lalonde #ultimate self

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ao3cassandraic · 11 months

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What does Aziraphale know and when does he know it? Part 2, The Chinwag

Prologue and Part 1, for those who need them.

The chinwag is written and shot in two timeframes: as it's happening, and as Aziraphale retells it to Crowley. That's a fair wodge of extra production expense, compared to just having Aziraphale retell the story. There's got to be a reason for it (beyond additional Derek Jacobi, which is never bad).

I think the reason is so that we-the-viewers can check the congruence between actual events and Aziraphale's retelling, also between Aziraphale's emotional reactions to the Metatron and the emotions he pours out to Crowley. (Remember, Aziraphale is a lying liar who lies!) Also, as some meta-ists have already pointed out, to leave the possibility open that we are not getting the whole story in either frame -- there's likely some interaction that we aren't shown and that Aziraphale doesn't tell Crowley about.

But why wouldn't Aziraphale tell Crowley everything? Hold that thought (though if you've read through my metas, you already know my answer).

The chronology of the chinwag is very tangled in-show (we first see the very end of it!) so I'm going to disentangle it here, as best I can.

Aziraphale tells Crowley, "[The Metatron] said that Gabriel obviously hadn't worked out... and he asked who I thought should take over in Heaven..." Then we cut to the actual chinwag. Aziraphale looks a bit how-is-this-my-problem-exactly, and gives the obvious bureaucratic corporate yes-person (well, yes-angel) answer: Michael.

And the Metatron calls him silly for it. The Metatron has just insulted Gabriel, Michael, and Aziraphale in practically the same breath; if Aziraphale had had any doubts about contempt being fundamental to the Metatron's personality, they've been blown away now.

The Metatron: "... there's only one candidate who makes even the slightest bit of sense." Aziraphale's reaction shot: polite interest in his face, but his hands appear clasped together under the table -- he's stressed and he's hiding things. "And that's you."

And we don't get Aziraphale's actual reaction to this -- we cut back to Aziraphale telling Crowley. I know what I think Aziraphale's actual reaction, and how he expressed it, were -- and I don't think for an instant they were the same -- but by all means consider for yourself. The show wants you to. Also consider whether either of those is the same as the excitement he projects toward Crowley. My cards on the table, and a sneak peek of the next post in this series: I don't think so. I think Aziraphale retelling this story is Aziraphalean kayfabe. The Metatron wants and expects him to be excited, so he's acting excited.

We then cut back to the Metatron's actual words: "Well, yes, you're a leader, you're honest, you don't just tell people what they want to hear; it's why Gabriel came to you in the first place, I imagine."

There is not one word of this that is not bullshit. Starting from the end, Aziraphale knows why Jimbriel came to him, because he asked and the utterly guileless Jimbriel told him. It had nothing to do with leadership or honesty; it was because Jimbriel had a strong, if vague, impression that Aziraphale was the one being who could and would improve Jimbriel's situation. (Other metas from other meta-ists discuss why Jimbriel might feel this way.) The rest of the Metatron's line is manipulative generic corporate-style flattery having zero intersection with the phalanx-refusing, frequently-deceitful, go-along-to-get-along angel we all know and love.

So is Aziraphale buying the Metatron's love-bombing? I mean, it's wholly plausible that an angel would buy it, just out of sheer emotional desperation; Heaven's angels -- those who even remain after the Great War and the mass Fall -- are pitifully love- and approval-starved. Aziraphale himself has barely gotten a kind word from Heaven in his entire existence, and he's had plenty of reprimands. Gabriel didn't get a single gift in six thousand years. Lonely, obliging, bottom-of-the-hierarchy Muriel practically plotzes at the least slightest hint of approval from anyone ever.

There's only one angel on Earth or in Heaven who knows genuine, sustained love and support, though, now that Gabriel is gone -- and it's Aziraphale. I look at Aziraphale's face after the Metatron drops that love bomb, and I see no hint of joy or warmth or Muriel-like gratitude. He's not buying it. Aziraphale knows what love is, and this ain't it. (Crowley rescues Aziraphale once again, and he's not even there! I love this.)

What Aziraphale knows at this point:

The Metatron wants him back in Heaven.

Given the Metatron's habitual contempt for everyone around him, and given the blatant lies with which he expresses respect for Aziraphale, the Metatron must be lying about that respect. So whatever his reasons for wanting Aziraphale in Heaven, they're not his stated reasons about Aziraphale being suited to the job.

The Metatron is really buttering him up! "Second-in-command after me" is a pretty solid bribe! A lot bigger than a coffee! And the Metatron doesn't butter anybody else up! So the Metatron has clearly (and likely correctly) determined that ordering Aziraphale around doesn't work -- Aziraphale has a history of defying blatant orders, both openly and by working-to-rule. (The Metatron may or may not know the full details of the Arrangement, but of course it is another example.)

The Metatron is neither omniscient nor infallible. He doesn't know why Jimbriel went to Aziraphale. He doesn't know what line of patter will serve as a suitable love bomb. He can likely be fooled.

What Aziraphale likely wants to know at this point:

What. The fuck. Does the fucking Metatron. Actually want from him.

What. The fuck. Is the fucking Metatron. Actually up to. Because the Metatron has gone a long way out of his way -- en-corporating, coming to Earth, grabbing a coffee, saving Aziraphale from Michael, holding Muriel in reserve, separating Aziraphale from Crowley, pouring poison into Aziraphale's ear (Hamlet allusion, anyone?) -- to further whatever his aims are.

The Metatron, next: "There are huge plans afoot, enormous projects, and I will need you to run them. You are just the angel for the job."

Aziraphale's face, in the next shot, is still full of worry. That's a partial answer to the questions in his mind, but far from a complete one. So he plays to keep the Metatron talking, hoping that will make things clearer. "I… I don't want to go back to Heaven. Where would I get my coffee?" (He doesn't want coffee on a regular basis. He's a tea drinker! This is a prevarication. There is no trust at this table.)

The Metatron, rather than answering, raises his bribe. "You know, as supreme archangel, you would be able to decide whom to work with. I've been looking back over a number of your previous exploits, and I see that in quite a few of them you formed a de facto partnership with the demon Crowley. Now, if you wanted to work with him again, that might be considered irregular, but it would certainly be within your jurisdiction to restore your friend, Crowley, to full angelic status."

I quoted the whole thing because whew, it's crucial and it's layered.

What Aziraphale now knows:

The Metatron sure doesn't look to be taking no for an answer.

The Metatron knows something -- how much isn't clear, but likely something fairly significant -- about the Ineffable Husbands' shenanigans through the ages. He's been studying them. (Which I find chilling, honestly, but I'm a privacy wonk so I would.)

The Metatron knows Aziraphale and Crowley are friends, important to one another; he up and said so.

The Metatron might not mind if Aziraphale got some of his own back from the other archangels. "Deciding whom to work with" in a corporate bureaucracy often means deciding whom to fire, after all. This, too, might be part of the bribe.

The Metatron is somewhat willing to let Crowley return to Heaven. Only as an angel, though, no more bee!demon. He doesn't seem enthusiastic at the prospect, however, or he'd have offered this tidbit already.

What Aziraphale likely wants to know:

The two questions he still has. They have not been answered.

What. The actual fuck. Are these plans and projects? Are they real or are they get-Aziraphale-out-of-the-way make-work?

Is the offer for Crowley on the level? (Nothing else has been so far!) Or is the Metatron's raise not bribery, but blackmail?

As for how Aziraphale responds to this: No joy, warmth, or pleasure, none. His eyes shift quickly when the Metatron first says Crowley's name, and if anything he looks even more worried for a moment. And again, we aren't allowed to see Aziraphale's actual reaction to the raised bribe offer.

If I'm Aziraphale, being railroaded into this return to Heaven by this extremely powerful and worrisomely sketchy being, I sure would want my right-hand demon at my, er, right hand. I'm just saying.

The temporally-last chunk of the chinwag is the Metatron bringing this weird unsavory job offer to a corporately-scripted close: "Well, you don't have to answer immediately. Take all the time you need." Aziraphale plays for additional information, again, by echoing Gabriel's stunned reaction, "I don't know what to say." Note that this is not an eager yes, or any kind of yes at all! Not even the possibility of Crowley being an angel again has managed to wring assent out of Aziraphale! He's the actual opposite of all in on this!

But the Metatron refuses to give any additional information, leaving Aziraphale with a lot of unanswered questions. And he gives Aziraphale an explicit direct order, which is decidedly peremptory of him, considering. "Well then, go and tell your friend the good news."

We see Aziraphale respond to this with his very best go-along-to-get-along faces. He then crosses the street toward the bookshop; his back is turned to the Metatron at last, so he can let out a bit more of whatever he's feeling. What does he do? He takes a deep breath, flashes the Metatron one more brief placating smile, physically pulls himself together, and walks stiffly across the street with another pulling-himself-together gasp for breath in the middle.

This is not a joyous angel returning to his right-hand demon with joyous news. This is an angel with a lot of unanswered questions who's worried sick and unable to let down his guard fully.

Notice, by the way, that the Metatron then goes and has his little insultingly condescending interaction with Muriel, and then he turns back toward the bookshop and stands there. Like Furfur's zombies peering into the magic shop in 1941, he's watching Aziraphale and Crowley from a distance through the bookshop windows. Can he read lips? Who knows. But he's watching.

Next up: The Fiasco.

#gos2spoilers #gos2 spoilers #good omens season 2 spoilers #the fucking metatron #aziraphale #the final fifteen minutes #good omens meta #good omens

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nebulablakemurphy · 1 year

Text

Moves & Countermoves (Part 19)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing. Trigger warning: discussions of trauma surrounding ‘desirable’ victors.

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18

“Tell me about the stairs,” Dr. Aurelius says.

Y/N stares at him blankly, the stairs.

He waits a moment, tapping his pen to paper. “At the request of your husband, you will be issued a nightlock pill, to use in the event that you are captured.”

Y/N nods. One of the stipulations to Haymitch agreeing to her deployment, on this mission to rescue Peeta.

‘Show me you can reach it with your mouth.’ He tested the accessibility of her suit’s pill pocket, rigorously. ‘Show me you can still reach it with your hands behind your back.’

It isn’t something he wants her to use, but knowing that whatever Snow has planned for her would make Peeta’s captivity look like child’s play…

“By President Coin’s orders, I cannot release this… medication unless you are of sound mind.”

“You have reason to believe I’m not?” Y/N asks.

“One of your former guards told me you asked if anyone had ever jumped from the elevator.” Aurelius purses his lips.

“It was one time!” Y/N waves a hand, “and it was a joke.”

“You have a dark sense of humor.”

“You would too.”

The therapist affords her a soft smile, “you may be right. Even still, you are my patient. I need to act in your best interest. So please, tell me what happened on the stairs.”

Y/N takes a deep breath, “it’s kind of a blur. Everyone was pushing, yelling, especially after the upper levels were damaged and the rain started coming down.”

“How did you feel?”

“I felt…worried, I guess.”

“In what way?”

“About Haymitch, Madge and the kids. Worried about what was happening to Peeta. Worried about getting Katniss into the bunker.”

He jots this down.

“That was a normal response.” Y/N snaps.

“Very much so,” the doctor agrees, “not every note I make is a bad one.”

Y/N crosses her arms.

“Did you worry for yourself? Your own safety?”

You’re supposed to say yes.

“There is no right answer, Y/N.”

“There’s an answer that gets me to Peeta and one that doesn’t.”

“True,” he shrugs, “but I trust you not to lie.”

“You shouldn’t.” Y/N narrows her eyes. “I’m a good liar, I’ve been doing it since I was fifteen.”

“How do you feel about death? Is it something you long for, or run from?”

“If I die, my kids lose their mother, my husband loses his wife, my sister loses her sister. The list goes on. So it really doesn’t matter how I feel about death. All I know is that I cannot die.”

“Yet you think you could bite down on this pill?” He presents the dark purple capsule.

“As a last resort. If I have fought tooth and nail and I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I can’t get free? I could.” Y/N decides.

Dr. Aurelius nods, holding the nightlock out to her. “Best of luck.”

————————————————————————

Haymitch curses Katniss’ name, as he shuffles through the crawl space she’s gone to hide in, after refusing to make the propo saying thirteen survived Snow’s attack.

Have kids, they said. It will be fun, they said.

Though none of his biological children have forced him to squeeze in such a tight space, parenthood is not for the faint of heart.

He plops down beside her with a sigh, “so this is the end, huh? I guess we’re just gonna hide down here forever.”

“I can’t be the mockingjay,” Katniss chokes out.

“Not the mockingjay,” Haymitch tosses a bit of hair away from her face, “just Katniss.”

She blinks at him, warily.

“Look, I know I’m not good at this pep talk stuff. That’s Y/N’s department.”

“She doesn’t want to see me,” Katniss understands.

“She spent the morning getting cleared by her shrink.”

“Cleared for what?”

“They’re going to rescue Peeta.” Haymitch tells her.

“What?”

“The dam went down in district five, took out most of the power to the Capitol. Knocked out their signal defense, Beetee’s inside their system, reeking all kinds of havoc. The window is open to us, for how much longer? I don’t know, I guess until the Capitol can get the power back on.” Haymitch explains.

“And Coin?”

“I can never fully support that woman. But Plutarch got word that Peeta and the others are in the tribute center. With the power out, Coin sees this as an opportunity. She knows that Peeta is the Capitol’s weapon, the same way you’re ours. And as opposed to having you two pointing at each other, she’s going to get him.”

“I have to go help them.” Katniss springs to life.

“Woah, hey,” Haymitch reaches out a hand to stop her. “What’re you just gonna jump out of the vent and go storm the Capitol? Besides it’s already underway. Six soldiers went in, volunteer only. Y/N, Gale, Boggs and three others.”

“You just let her go?” Katniss frowns.

Haymitch admits, “she’s not the type of person you ‘let’ do things. But you know how that is, sweetheart. Between the two of you,” he lets out a low whistle, “I’m exhausted.”

————————————————————————

Madge breaks her dinner roll in half. Splitting it between Everest and Arista, the same way she’s watched Y/N and Haymitch do since they got here. Making sure little bellies are full, before their own.

Pollux approaches, motioning to the seat across from Madge, at the metal mess hall table. He sets down his tray and pulls out his note pad, to jot a message down. “Is this seat taken?”

“No,” Madge greets him, “please, sit.”

“Hi, I’m Pollux. You’re Y/N’s sister, right?”

Madge nods.

“She keeps your picture in her pocket.” Pollux smiles. “And them.” He points to the oldest children.

Everest’s eyes scan the page. “Our mom told us about you. What happened to you in the Capitol…I’m really sorry.”

“Honey,” Madge runs a hand over his hair.

“Thank you, Everest. It’s nice to meet you. Your mom talks about you all the time, she is so proud.” Pollux turns the page quickly, for more room. “Arista and Daisy too, of course. Your mom loves you all very much.”

With that the children turn back to their meals.

Madge smiles, stabbing at her food with one hand, while patting the baby in the sling. The tray moves and Pollux holds out a hand to stabilize it. “Oh, thank you. It’s ok though, you eat.”

He draws the hand back, long enough to scribble, “I’d offer to hold the baby instead, but I don’t think we’re there yet.”

Madge laughs, “funny.”

“It’s really no trouble.”

Madge shrugs, as he grips the edge of her tray, loosely. Managing his own dinner just fine.

Cressida calls him away, after a while, for Finnick’s live propo, to help jam the Capitol’s airwaves.

“I’ll see you around.”

“I’ll see you.”

————————————————————————

“This is Finnick Odair, winner of the sixty-fifth Hunger Games, coming to you from district thirteen, alive and well. We survived an attack by the Capitol, but I’m not here to give you recent news.”

“Why is Finnick doing a propo?” Katniss wonders, watching the split screen of the control room. The large, right panel is an image of Finnick. Just outside the rubble, where they asked her to film earlier, the sun has set and the lights are trained on him. The left hand side is home to six smaller panels, with the soldier’s helmet cam footage.

“It’s a lot more than that,” Haymitch informs her.

“Beetee’s commandeered the system,” Coin says, proudly.

“They’re down to generator power, so there’s a more limited range of frequencies available to them. I’m filling them all up with Y/N and Finnick. It looks like they’re both live.” Beetee assures Katniss.

“Snow will think she’s still here?” That’s brilliant.

“Not many will see it, but those who do will assume they’re just propos.”

“What they don’t know is that these broadcasts are jamming their entire system with noise. Early defense warnings, internal communications, everything. As long as one or both of the broadcasts are going through, our team should be able to get in and out without being detected.” Beetee assures her.

“You can survive the arena, but the moment you leave, you’re a slave.” Finnick narrates. “President Snow used to sell me, or my body, at least.”

“Mockingjay one, you are twenty seconds from perimeter defense.”

“I wasn’t the only one. If a victor is considered desirable, the president gives them as a reward, or allows people to buy them. If you refuse, he kills someone you love.” Finnick presses on, looking straight at camera.

“Ten seconds.” The hovercraft pilot begins counting down. “Nine, eight, seven, six.”

“Just because a victor is married doesn’t mean they’re safe.”

“Five, four, three…”

“The Capitol’s more generous patrons paid dearly to watch the wedding night, even more to witness the conception of the most beloved children in Panem.”

“Two, one.”

Katniss freezes, surely he doesn’t mean- it couldn’t be. The dress, that stupid dress they crammed her in. Why it upset Y/N so badly. Snow was taunting her.

“No response from perimeter defense, we’re inside Capitol airspace.”

“Yes,” Beetee rejoices.

Haymitch is watching the smaller screen, his jaw tense, doing his best to ignore the eyes that fall on him. Twisting his wedding band around and around. It doesn’t matter what secrets Finnick reveals, so long as he keeps jamming the signal. Keep Y/N safe.

“To make themselves feel better, patrons will offer presents of money or jewelry. But I found secrets to be a much more valuable form of payment.”

“Gear up,” Boggs orders the soldiers on the hovercraft. They are just seconds away from the tribute center. “Masks on.”

Their lenses are tinted for night vision, the red light inside makes Y/N’s heartbeat faster.

“Open the door.” Boggs says, his voice echoing through her headset. “Command, this is team leader, preparing to deploy gas. We will confirm once inside.”

“Such a young man when he rose to power, such a clever one to keep it. How, you may ask, did he do it?” Finnick is captivating, well spoken.

Katniss is hanging off every word.

“One word, poison.”

The timer for the gas grenadines finishes, on Bogg’s stop watch, “get ready to drop.”

Y/N secures her harness to the wire, giving it a firm tug. Descending through the open loading dock, releasing the wires as they reach ground.

“Clear.” Boggs, informs the team. “We’re inside, headed for target number one. Cell B forty-five, lower level two C.”

“So many deaths to well known adversaries, even allies who were deemed as threats.”

It’s dizzying, giving equal attention to Finnick’s message and the feed from inside the tribute center.

Haymitch is glued to that screen, her screen. Like he wants to reach through and bring her back with him.

Once Peeta’s holding cell is gassed, they are cleared to enter.

“Snow would drink from the same cup, to deflect suspicion. But antidotes don’t always work, which is why he wears roses that reek of perfume. To help cover the scent of sores, in his mouth, that will never heal.”

Poison, Katniss shakes her head to clear it. He’s still talking about poison.

Inside the room is a lab, full of jars, experiments. Cages. Medical equipment, some with blood still visible.

“What the fuck?” Y/N whispers, reaching out to try and make sense of it.

“Abernathy, on me.” Boggs warns, they need to stay focused.

“What is this place?” Gale asks, venturing deeper.

Their screens lights up, all of them at once. Too bright to see.

“Ahh.”

There is a collective hiss, from those in the tribute center. The power’s back on.

“Beetee?” Katniss has a hand flat against her belly, where the worry eats her alive.

“Ma’am, the Capitol air defense is rebooting. It’s coming back online.”

“They must be diverting power from another source, filtering transmissions. Another sixty seconds and we’ll be cut off.” Beetee scowls, typing furiously at the control panel.

“Get them outta there,” Haymitch demands.

“Madame President, should we call back the hovercraft?”

“Broadcast me,” Katniss decides, “if Snow’s watching this, maybe he’ll let the signal in, if he sees me. Put me on the air so he can see me.”

“Yes,” Plutarch snaps a finger. “Yes.”

“Put her on,” Coin agrees.

“Can we still do this?” Haymitch’s hands are shaking as he positions the camera in front of her. “Can we still get in?” Can we still save her?

“Yes, for the moment,” Beetee replies. “The line’s open, he will only see you.”

“Ok, Katniss,” Haymitch steps away. “Go.”

“President Snow.” Katniss says, “President Snow, it’s Katniss.”

The static continues to crackle. No more Finnick, no more footage from the tribute center. Just her.

“President Snow, can you hear me?” Katniss repeats, hoping for a miracle. “I need to speak with you, are you there? President Snow.”

“Miss Everdeen,” his voice is distorted for a moment, until the signal hones in. “What an honor. I don’t imagine you’re calling to thank me for the roses.”

“I never asked for this. I never asked to be in the games.” Katniss reminds him. “I just wanted to save my sister and keep Peeta alive. Let him go and I will stop being the mockingjay. I will disappear and you’ll never have to see me again.”

“You couldn’t run from this anymore than you could’ve run from the games.”

“Please, you’ve won.” Katniss says, “release Peeta and take me instead.”

Snow shakes his head with a smirk. “We are long past the opportunity for noble sacrifice.”

“Then tell me what to do, I’ve always kept my promises. Haven’t I?”

“You said you didn’t want a war, and that’s just what happened. I told you what a fragile thing peace was and still, like a child, you took pleasure in breaking it. I know what you are, I know you can’t see past your narrowest concerns. But please, Miss Everdeen, I doubt you know what honesty is anymore.”

“You asked me to convince you that I was in love with Peeta,” Katniss challenges. “Haven’t I at least done that?”

Snow takes great pleasure in what he’s about to say, it’s written all over his twisted features. “It’s the things we love most that destroy us. I want you to remember I said that.” He pauses. “Don’t you think I know Y/N and your friends are in the tribute center?”

Katniss feels the floor fall out from under her.

“Cut them off.” Snow says, turning away from the screen. It returns to the static hum of nothing.

They had comms back, but now Beetee’s lost them again.

“What happened?” Katniss sobs.

“Boggs, do you read me? Boggs, come in.”

“He knows they’re in there,” Katniss calls to Haymitch. “It’s a trap.”

“Katniss, calm down.” Haymitch whispers.

“We have to get ahold of them, tell them to get out. He knows.”

“There’s no signal, we can’t contact them,” Plutarch sighs.

“No, Haymitch.” Katniss crumbles, “he knew the whole time, he was taunting me! No, Haymitch-”

“No, no, we don’t know that.” Haymitch hushes her, because he has to be strong. He has to be steady, even with his world falling to pieces.

“Did I lose them all tonight? Did I lose them all?”

Haymitch pulls her into a hug. “Shhh,” he smooths down her dark waves, the same way he would his other daughters.

She holds fast, allowing him to comfort her. “Did I lose them?” The cry is muffled against his shoulder.

“Shh,” he sways them, gently.

“No, no.”

“Katniss,” Haymitch breathes, “listen to me. I need you to listen.”

She nods, unable to calm her erratic breathing.

“If Y/N died, I would feel it. I would feel it in my heart, if she was gone and I don’t. If she’s alive, Peeta is alive, Gale is alive. All we have to do is wait.”

————————————————————————

“Systems are back online.” The pilot informs them.

There’s nothing they can do. Communication with thirteen is shut down, no way to get through to Beetee. They’ll either shoot them out of the sky or they won’t. The only way out is through.

Y/N doesn’t mean to, but she holds her breath. Waiting until they clear Capitol airspace to resume a normal pattern.

Of the five other soldiers on this rescue mission, there is one medic. She begins tending Annie, Johanna and Peeta in turn. Starting IV fluids, as they are all dehydrated; unconscious from the gas.

Annie looks like herself, maybe a bit gaunt, but recognizable. Peeta is thin, so thin and covered in bruises. Johanna’s head has been shaved, cheeks hollow and ribs showing. Y/N tosses off her helmet, running both hands over her face.

“Soldier.” Boggs puts a hand to her shoulder. “You did good. We accomplished our goal. Now we can all go home.”

Y/N nods, blinking away tears.

“Take a breather, there’s a separate compartment through there,” he motions to the rear doors. “He’ll need you when he comes to.”

Peeta does not wake for some time, beginning to struggle at his bindings. No, he realizes, it’s not a binding that holds him. It’s a hand. Just one wrapped loosely around his.

It feels familiar, soft. Someone he knew once, it smells of artificial air. She is warm, the space around her is warm, gentle and kind. A second hand strokes his hair, the way he once wished his mother would.

His eyelids begin to flutter open, daring to reveal that he is conscious. If he’s wrong…if it’s not her and they’ve tricked him again, it will be his own fault.

“Peeta,” Y/N says, staring down at him.

He blinks up at her, in the too bright light. His breathing heavy as she tries to move away, to give him space, but he holds her. Squeezing her fingers.

“Peeta, do you know who I am?”

His throat is sore, voice hoarse, from screaming. “Y-yes.”

“Good,” Y/N smiles.

“Where am I?”

“We’re in a hovercraft, on the way to district thirteen.”

Peeta studies her face. There was something…something is missing, something’s wrong. “What happened to the baby?”

“She’s fine.” Y/N assures him. “Keeping her siblings and Haymitch company.”

“You’re all ok?”

Y/N nods, “yeah, honey, we’re all ok. Now we focus on getting you healthy. Ok?”

He doesn’t flee from her touch, only the occasional flinch when he forgets where he is, until she reminds him that he is safe. “You came back for me.”

“Of course I did.”

Y/N leaves him briefly, with the doctors, upon arrival in thirteen. She needs to find Haymitch, tell him she’s ok. And she is running, searching, colliding into him, with such force that they are both sent off balance.

Down to the floor, the dirty, cold floor. But no place has ever felt better. To hold him, for him to hold her and inhale the scent at the crook of his neck.

“Never again.” He pleads, massaging the back of her scalp, like he does when she’s falling asleep. “Never do that to me again.”

“I’m sorry, Haymitch.” She nuzzles the delicate skin of his throat.

“Don’t make me live in a world where you don’t exist.”

‘All I know is that I cannot die.’

Part 20

Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420 @avocadotoastwithegg @treehouse-mouse @emo-markie @spilled-mi1k @magical-spit @greaser9902 @jessicamellarky @yourebuckingkiddingme @smuha2004 @sendhelplease @ninimackbrews @wittiestrain184 @r1dd1kulus @erenluvr69 @helpimhyperfixating @jackierose902109 @jellybear455 @dreammgc @dadbodfanatic-x @ftdtcmlovr @inky-sun @ms-brek-ker @undercover55655 @mischiefmanaged21 @avoxrising @koiphisch @drwho-ess @daisydaisybilly

#moves & countermoves #haymitch abernathy fanfic #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy x y/n #haymitch x reader #haymitch abernathy x you #haymitch fanfic #haymitch x y/n #thg haymitch #haymitch abernathy x yn #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark

423 notes · View notes

foxydivaxx · 8 months

Text

Okay here is a masterlist of my work so far or at lest the stuff I want everyone to see because some of my past posts make me cringe:

Character Playlists

Introducing the Bad Romance Cast

Bad Romance Cast

Idol Sanji Headcanons:

Idol Sanji Headcanon 1

Idol Sanji Headcanon 2

Idol Sanji Headcanon 3

Idol Sanji Headcanon 4

Idol Sanji Headcanon 5

Idol Sanji Sturvs

More Idol Sanji Headcanons

Zosan Goodies

Zosan: Late Night Birthday Special

Zosan Headcanons:

Zosan Sturvs

Zosan More Headcanons

Zosan NSFW Headcanons

Zosan Marriage Bliss 1

Zosan Marriage Bliss 2

Zosan Actor AU 1

Zosan Actor Au 2

Zoro Headcanons

Zoro Idol Au

Zoro Headcanons 2

Chronicles of King Nasty with Ezreal

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chronicles of King Nasty Uncensored (The Version of The story where Ezreal does not provide commentary)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Heartsteel Ezreal

Headcanons Part 1

Sanji and Sukuna

Headcanons

One Piece Actor Au

Headcanon 1

Headcanon 2

Headcanon 3

Vinsmoke Family Au

Headcanons

Aogiri Headcanon

Part 1

Inner Circle

Headcanons 1

Gossip Girl: Bad Romance

Preview

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Zosan: Look What You Made Me Do

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Zosan: Broken Bird

One Shot

Zosan: End Of Paradise

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Gossip Girl AU Prequel: Z After Dark

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Hetalia Actor AU: hERE

MY AO3

Here you go

DC COMICS FANFICS:

Cassie Sandsmark: Oddssey

Snippet

Prologue

Osiris

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Blue Exorcist Fanfic:

Abel and Cain

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Wrestling AU

Everyone’s moral alignment

Yugioh Fanfiction

Yugioh Pretty Little Liars Style

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Zosan: Prince Charming

One shot

Sanji: The Love Life Of Sanji

One Shot

Gossip Girl AU Father Day Special

Sanji

Zoro

51 notes · View notes

nightghoul381 · 4 months

Text

Dark If ~ Jude Jazza

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Villains. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!

CW: Needles

I calmly pretended to be hiding in the castle and explained everything about the curse to my father.

However--.

King: “You’re sick and will die soon? There’s no way you can trust that!”

King: “Poor thing… you must have been brainwashed by that wizard.”

Kate: “No…! Please believe what I’m telling you…!”

King: “You are prohibited from leaving the room until the chaos has subsided. All right.”

Father didn’t believe my words and locked the room several times.

(I don’t know what to do… I have to somehow get out of this room and find the spinning wheel.)

I tied together all of the dresses in my closet, tied it to the pillar, and opened the window.

Around the same time—

When the prison guard saw a prisoner in the cell leisurely smoking a cigarette, he panicked.

Prison Guard: “W-where did you get that cigarette from… did someone lend this guy a light!?”

Guard: “N-no…! I don’t know!”

Jude the Wizard: “Blah Blah, you’re so loud. It’s just one cigarette.”

Jude the Wizard: “If the princess is more important than anything else, it would be better for you to prepare a spinning wheel.”

Guard: “? What are you saying?”

Jude the Wizard: “Your precious princess is suffering from a disease that cannot be cured, even if the incompetent court doctors tried for a thousand years.”

Jude the Wizard: “If the curse is activated, time in her body will stop. During that time, I will treat her.”

Jude the Wizard: “I’m sure I gave the same explanation ten years ago, but those idiots didn’t listen.”

Prison Guard: “You’re just spouting nonsense because you want to be spared! Ignore him!”

Jude the Wizard: “Haah---”

Letting out a deep sigh along with deep purple smoke, Jude pressed the cigarette butt against the cold floor.

Jude the Wizard: “Would it be okay to say then, if ya did that everyone would want to be turned into mincemeat?”

Kate: “This is the spinning factory… or it’s supposed to be.”

(There are so many layers of barbed wire, so it seems impossible to get in.)

(If I try to enter through the side entrance, the security will find me right away… and I won’t have time to save myself.)

Kate: “If this is how it is, I have no choice but to break through the barbed wire even if I end up covered in blood—”

???: “I don’t think thorn princess means a princess who gets torn to shreds by thorns, does it?”

Kate: “…!?”

When I turned around in surprise, a man with mint-colored eyes was standing there.

Kate: “Who are you…? If you know my father, I won’t be returning to the castle, so please take care of him.”

Liar Fox: “I’m just a liar fox.”

Liar Fox: “I happen to know the location of what you’re looking for. Now, is that the truth or a lie?”

Kate: “…! How did you know I was looking for something?”

Liar Fox: “I don’t know. But, why not? You look like you’re looking for a spinning wheel and you’re ready to go to sleep.”

Liar Fox: “If that happens… you won’t be able to return to your original world for 100 years.”

Liar Fox: “If that ‘person’ can’t find a cure, it’s possible to die in your sleep.”

(This person…seems like he knows everything about the situation.”

He might be similar to that Victor person I met before coming to this world.

I looked straight back into his mint-colored eyes.

Kate: “That person is trying to keep the promise he made to me.”

Liar Fox: “Hmm… then I’ll take you to the place where you can find what you’re looking for.”

The liar fox guided me to a clock tower that overlooks the country…

Kate: “Jude…!?”

Jude the Wizard: “Tsk… Why weren’t you in your room?”

Kate: “How did you escape from prison… or rather, how did you break into my room!?”

Jude the Wizard: “Your castle is guarded by shitty monkeys. No wonder they raised a princess with no crisis management skills.”

Kate: “Um…? But, Mr. Fox, what I was looking for wasn’t Jude, but the needle of a spinning wheel--”

Kate: “…Huh? Mr. Fox isn’t here…”

When I looked back, the man with mint-colored eyes had disappeared without a trace.

Jude the Wizard: “You’re talking about foxes and other things that don’t make any sense. You’ve gone crazy.”

Kate: “T-that’s not true…!”

Kate: “After I was separated from you—I made a promise to the old you.”

Jude the Wizard: “Ah…? What are you saying—”

Jude the Wizard: “—You’re saying you made a promise to ‘me’ in the past?”

Kate: “It seems like that… I don’t even know how I went back in time.”

Jude the Wizard: “There’s a magic that can stop time, so I guess that kind of thing could exist, I don’t’ know.”

Jude muttered as if he were about to vomit, and frowned in displeasure.

Jude the Wizard: “…Ha, I see. I thought you had forgotten about me.”

(You thought I had forgotten…)

--Flashback—

Kate: “You’re the wizard who put a curse on me, aren’t you?”

Kate: “I’m sorry for barging in on you so suddenly. I came to ask if you could lift the curse.”

Jude the Wizard: “…Ah?”

--End Flashback—

(…maybe)

Kate: “Was the reason you were so mean when we first met because you were angry…?”

Jude the Wizard: “I don’t remember the old days anymore.”

Jude the Wizard: “So, did you find out why you were cursed?”

Kate: “Yes…That’s why I was looking for the needle of a spinning wheel.”

Jude the Wizard: “Then here you are.”

Kate: “Eh…What!?”

Jude took out a sharp needle from his pocket.

Kate: “Why are you carrying that…?”

Jude the Wizard: “So I could stab you.”

Kate: “I-isn’t that too sharp to be used as a spinning wheel needle…?”

Jude: “If it doesn’t pierce, then what’s the point?”

Kate: “Well, I had asked the old Jude this but,”

Jude the Wizard: “Tsk… You’re a young lady who asks a lot of questions.”

Kate: “Why do I have to be pricked by a spinning wheel…?”

Jude the Wizard: “It seemed right, I don’t know. Besides—you seem to like pain.”

(…Ah, I knew it.)

(That was Jude.)

The moment I thought that, my heart became warm.

There’s a phenomenon where people fall in love with their kidnappers, and that kind of thing can’t be explained in any way—

I’m attracted to this man.

I came from London, England, and I have lived in this world…both of them.

Kate: “…Please, tell me one last thing.”

Jude the Wizard: “This isn’t the last thing, I told you I wasn’t going to let you die, don’t piss me off.”

Kate: “Why are you going to such lengths to help me…?”

Jude the Wizard: “…”

Jude the Wizard: “Of course, it’s because I have to pay back what I owe.”

(…I see.)

Kate: “…fufu, that’s very like you, Jude.”

Jude the Wizard: “Oh, and…”

Kate: “…?”

Jude the Wizard: “When I met you in the alley that day… even though you could’ve gotten into trouble, you didn’t even think twice about putting your nose in it,”

Jude the Wizard: “You’re such a good-natured person that you’d get angry on behalf of a kid you just met,”

Jude the Wizard: “And even when you were confined to the castle with your life in your hands, you bit the bullet because you’re a princess who refuses to give up, you know.”

Kate: “…Are you making fun of me…?”

Jude the Wizard: “I’m pretty sure I’m praising you.”

Jude the Wizard: “But, well—If you think about it, 100 years isn’t cheap, right?”

Kate: “Eh…?”

Jude the Wizard: “I’m ‘saving a life’ same as you, while you just happened to shelter me in the alleyway,”

Jude the Wizard: “I’ll spend 100 years looking for a cure, and I feel like that’s not a fair exchange.”

(Ah, is this the grave I’ve dug…?)

Jude the Wizard: “Assuming you saved my life, that’s worth about 50 years—”

Jude the Wizard: “If you wake up after I cure this stupid disease, why don’t I use you as a useful laborer for another 50 years?”

(--!)

Kate: “Does that mean, you’ll still be with me when I wake up…?”

Jude the Wizard: “Tch, that’s a creepy way to say it.”

Jude the Wizard: “Will you pay me back exactly what you borrowed?”

Kate: “Okay… I promise I’ll pay you back for 50 years!”

I never thought I would feel so happy right before I fell asleep due to the curse.

I close my eyes tightly while suppressing my heart, which is pounding like crazy.

Kate: “…Go ahead, just one quick prick, please.”

Then I heard the sound of the chains on his clothes shifting—

I felt a sharp pain in my neck.

I can feel the needle slowly sinking into my skin.

Kate: “…Oh,…Ngh”

Heat slowly emanates from the sting and spreads throughout my body.

The feeling of being poisoned is scary, but…

(When I think about it, this pain… This curse, it’s all given to me by Jude--)

Jude the Wizard: “…Does it feel good?”

Kate: “…!?”

When I open my eyes, Jude was smiling.

Jude the Wizard: “I guess you like pain, don’t you… a woman with bad taste.”

(Ah…)

I feel my consciousness begin to slip away.

It feels like falling asleep with a pleasant feeling of fatigue.

Kate: “J…Jude…”

Jude the Wizard: “—good night, princess.”

As soon as I heard that gentle voice, my consciousness was swallowed by the darkness.

After that—The time until I felt the light on my eyelids felt like a moment, but also felt like it had been a very long time.

When I slowly opened my eyes… I saw that I was in neither the castle nor a clock tower,

I was in a castle covered in thorns.

Thorn Ellis: “…Ah, Jude, Miss Kate.”

When I looked to where I heard the sound of footsteps steadily approaching,

A sadistic, twisted smile was looking down at me.

Jude the Wizard: “Are you awake, Sleeping Beauty?”

Kate: “…I, did I die?”

Jude the Wizard: “Ah?”

Kate: “But—Even though 100 years have passed, neither you nor Ellis are old men.”

Jude the Wizard: “…”

Jude the Wizard: “Idiot.”

Thorn Ellis: “Wizards can manipulate time, so they can do whatever they want with their physical age. Both for themselves and others.”

Thorn Ellis: “Unless you’re fatally injured, you won’t die of old age.”

Jude the Wizard: “You went in my library and studied this, you moron.”

Kate: “…My disease, is it…?”

Jude the Wizard: “I’ve had 100 years, there’s no way I couldn’t cure you.”

The triumphant and arrogant smile made my heart ache again.

“Even if I die, I won’t break my promise.”

I’ve known for 100 years that those words were true.

Kate: “Thank you, Jude.”

When I thanked him, just like Jude from 100 years ago,

He hooked his fingers under my collar and pulled me closer.

Jude the Wizard: “I’ve already repaid my debt… I’ll make sure to collect what you owe me.”

Kate: “Yes…!”

The budding love that began 100 years ago, when time had stopped, began to unravel in my heart once again.

Feeling that kind of premonition, I nodded enthusiastically.

Something that was missing in this twisted fairytale world, I don’t know that that is yet…

(…If possible, I’d like to keep searching for it forever.)

Because, in this world, I fell in love with him.

--I can’t go back to my original world.

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikemen villains translation #ikevil translation #jude jazza #ikevil jude #ikevil jude jazza #ikemen villains jude #ikemen villains jude jazza #tw: needles

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mafuluzx · 3 months

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Beautiful Liar (part 1/2)

If you have no idea what this is, it's the first part of my scrapped Wattpad story. I made a post with also the prologue in it, please go check it out from right here.

But this will in total have three posts: the prologue, part 1 and part 2. Part one and two are basically just the chapters I wrote before giving up split in two.

So, let's go.

Part 1

"Ah, this to the Walker's again?" You gave the envelope to the mailman and nodded. The mailman stuffed the envelope into his bag and left. You looked around before walking back to your house, your home. You always sent the Walkers money for Jay's allowance. You saw Jay on tv a lot these days. He was your precious little brother whom only you knew about. And to him you were a... nobody. You doubted if he'd seen you anywhere other than tv either.

You walked inside, the collection of Fritz Donnegan posters giving you a cold and wordless welcome, as always. In the past, you asked how Jay was doing from his 'parents', the Walkers. Edna was a sweet lady and Ed was a funny and kind old man, whom you met for the first time when you were two. You don't remember why Your father chose to leave Jay with them of all people, but you didn't mind. But You couldn't ask them anymore, for when Jay became a ninja, he visited his parents less and less. Instead you relied on the newspapers and tv to know how Jay's been doing.

You and your group were active as always, and your dad was at work all day long, as always. You didn't like him leaving you to take care house all year round, but you didn't want him to come back home either. He had love only for three in this world. Your mother, himself, and his job. His two children lived their own lives separated from him. You didn't even know if he cared for you and Jay, if he cared for one but not the other, or neither one.

But that was a long time ago. For a long time you had no one to call mother, but after that long time had lasted for ten years, it finally took it's toll. You didn't need to see your father anymore, you didn't need for him to take care of you anymore. But you didn't wish him to leave you. You only wished he would invite Jay back... back home.

You were two years older than Jay, and now he was sixteen, now you were eighteen. The letter which you sent to Ed and Edna contained one message, but you've though of it for so long that you could remember it from memory...

Mr. and Mrs. Walker, I have now turned eighteen, and have the right to take custody of Jay. If there's ever trouble, you may contact me, and I'll take full responsibility. But please, take care of Jay as long as you can, I don't want him to have to part with his parents anytime soon.

Signed, (y/n) Gordon.

You sighed and walked into the kitchen. You swiped a remote controller from the kitchen table and turned a small tv in the corner of the room on and took a glass of water for yourself. You sat down and pulled out a notebook before starting scribble down x marks on your to-do list. You weren't paying much attention to the tv, you kept it on as just some background noise, but something in the broadcast seemed different.

"Where are the ninja? This reporter has the answer." Nope, just the usual. You thought to yourself as you took a sip of water.

"They're calling it the Crime Wave of the Century." Oh, a bigger crime this time. Well, more fame for the ninja.

"Earlier today, Green Ninja Lloyd Garmadon was caught on tape robbing the city bank." Like lightning, you shot up from your seat, knocking over your glass of water in the process as your gaze shot up to the tv screen. Even if you could hardly believe your eyes, the screen definetely showed Lloyd right in the act.

"And that's not all. At Mega Monster amusement park, Zane was on a rampage of vandalism and mayhem." After a pause to listen to the absurd accusations of the tv, your rushed to grab a towek and quickly wiped the water off the table and floor to which the water had fallen, before sprinting away to fins your phone

"I am ashamed I ever wore their underwear. Oh, uh, I mean, T-shirts." You could hear the broadcast all the way to the living room, where you noticed your phone on the sofa, before quickly grabbing it and running back to the kitchen. Scrolling through your contacts at a rapid pace, you stopped at the name of your father and quickly pressed 'call'.

The phone rang a few times, before the line opened and the hassle of what could have been a movie set, or a party for famous people, or anything else in fact, sounded in the background.

"Cliff Gordon." A voice said from the other line.

"Dad! Look at the tv, quick!"

"Dad? Last time I remember, I was just Cliff Gordon to you. And there are no televisions here, so I can't."

"Ugh, yeah yeah let's talk about that later, but Jay's a fugitive!"

"Okay, slow down. What?"

"The ninja apparently started suddenly committing crimes all around Ninjago, and are now wanted criminals!"

"...Let's talk about this when I get home, okay?"

"Come on! Jay is falsely being accused-"

"We'll talk. At. Home." Beep, beep, beep... The line got cut. Your blood boiled, and you just stuffed your phone into your pocket before sitting back on the kitchen table, and intently listening to the rest of the broadcast.

The next day, the day was full of warning the city that the ninja were on the loose. Even as the night had passed, your father got no word from the Walkers about Jay, they hadn't even seen the broadcast, appareantly..

"I'll go get him a lawyer." Cliff Gordon sighed before pulling on a jacket. You were basically biting your fingers off as you anxiously watched the news. Cliff Gordon slipped out the door, but not before calling to you.

"It's not worth stressing over, go train or something. Just try to clear your mind of it." Then he left. You knew he was right, and in the end, you walked up to your practicing room and put on some music to practice to, but kept it quiet enough to hear the radio you had turned on. An hour, two hours, you didn't really care how much time had passed, when suddenly:

"The ninja have successfully been caught! They have been sent to Kryptarium prison, the best prison in Ninjago, and are there to stay." You almost let out a sigh as you turned the music off along with the radio, and dragged yourself out to your room, and plopped yourself onto your bed. And next morning was hell, again. Your father was nowhere to be seen, so you sent him a text,

Got Jay a lawyer yet?

Nope. I'll come back home once I do.

It's good you finally decided to take responsibility.

...

Do you hate me that much?

No. I just really like my brother.

Unlike someone I know.

I'll be back by Sunday.

You didn't send him an answer, and instead went on about your day as normal. Now that the ninja had been caught, the tv went back to normal, and all word of the ninja disappeared into thin air like nothing had ever happened.

Until they broke out. Suddenly all the channels on tv were exploding with people looking for the Ninja again. And not even much to your surprise, your father gave up on getting a lawyer, and hurried back to work. There was nothing worth discussing about with him anymore. The two of you were never on the best terms, but now even the one moment you finally agreed on something together was gone.

"I wish I wasn't born in a junkyard. I wish I wasn't poor anymore and could give Nya everything she wants."

"Your wish is yours to keep."

Suddenly your phone rang. You were expecting it to be your manager, for you had been slacking off group practice for personal reasons you knew damn well of. He could have been angry, for Starstruck's schedule could have gotten messed up, or perhaps you had just missed a deadline on something small, and he would only scold you a little.

"(y/n) Gordon." You said, when a voice you weren't quite sure you recognised spoke from the other end of the call.

"This is Max from the police, we're sorry to inform you, but..." His tone was careful, as if he was afraid to tell whatever he had to tell.

"Your father was involved in an accident, he passed away in the ambulance." Your phone fell onto the floor. There was no way. You dropped down onto the floor, and buried your face in your hands.

#ninjago x reader #ninjago #x male reader #x male y/n #lego ninjago #ninjago jay

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fleshthatfalls · 16 days

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" 𝙖 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡. "

𝖈𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖚𝖘 𝖘𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖝 𝖉𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖘 𝖑𝖔𝖕𝖊𝖟

nsfw writings are starred !

♡ -- prologue

♡ -- pretty little liar : coriolanus snow x oc, part 1

♡ -- pretty little liar : coriolanus snow x oc, part 2 ★

♡ -- pretty little liar : coriolanus snow x oc, part 3

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maes-flowers · 1 year

Text

For them, For us [6] (Obi-wan x Reader)

Summary: Following the Kenobi series, two former Jedi masters Obi-wan Kenobi and Y/n Marilla are grieving the lost of Anakin, Padme, and the jedi purge. After pledging to watch over Luke Skywalker and spending ten years in exile and making a life together, what will happen when the mistakes they made in their past come back as a new threat?

Warnings: Canon typical violence but that should be it

Authors note: IM ALIVE AND BACK BITCHES ive been working on this on and off for the last few months that its gotten way longer than i was planning and I still have 14 pages that I spilt off from this for the final part and maybe a epilogue as well but I've missed this series so much and if you enjoyed this very overdue update please let me know down below!

Prologue - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

You and Obi-wan watched Leia comfort people with Lola as the explosions grew closer together, the small droid beeping happily at a little boy and his mother. She must've sensed your presence because she turned around and smiled as you waved her over.

Obi-wan kneeled on the ground as you stood behind him, when Leia walked over clutching Lola.

“They're scared.” she said, another explosion boomed outside. “She keeps their mind off of it.”

“Maybe I should borrow her too.” Obi-wan suggested.

Leia looked at him confused.

“Why?”

You sighed and placed a nervous hand on Obi-wan's shoulder.

“Leia, Ben and I…” you swallowed nervously, this was harder than you thought it would be, Leia watched you with big eyes as you sucked in a deep breath.

“We’re going to go after Vader, but you're going to stay here.”

Leia's eyes grew wide and she shook her head in protest.

“No! No way! You can’t just leave me here!” she shouted.

“We’re the ones Vader wants. If we go he will follow.” Obi-wan explained gently.

“No, I'm not letting you!”

“Leia, please.” you begged.

Everyone was looking now, worry and fear as they heard what the two of you were planning to do. The woman who Leia was talking to moments ago now stood up and looked at you and Obi-wan confused.

“Wait, what happened to all of us staying together?!”

Another explosion went off, making you run a frustrated hand over your face before you looked at her with an exasperated look.

“Roken needs more time to fix the ship, this will give him that time!” you sighed, clasping your hands together like you were begging. “You have spent ten years protecting the Jedi, this is our chance to return the favor.”

“But we're so close!” Roken argued.

“Roken, you know this plan makes sense!” you replied grimly.

“No, we need you!” Sully now chimed in.

“It’ll buy you the time you need! You must get these people out of here, you are all the future!” Obi-wan exclaimed looking down at Leia. “You are the future! You're what's needed to survive.”

Leia looked away from his piercing gaze, you could've sworn you saw her eyes watering with tears but before you could get a decent look at her she turned around and ran away.

“No!” she shouted and ran around the corner.

“Leia!” you went to go after her but Haja intercepted and placed his hands on your shoulders to stop you.

“She needs to be given space.” Haja suggested.

“You must promise us that you'll get her home, Haja.” Obi-wan begged. “As soon as we’re in the clear.”

Haja’s gaze flickered between yours and Obi-wan's faces, and it was the most serious you've ever seen the man in the short time you knew him.

“You have my word,” he promised. “Although, I know the words of a liar and a fake jedi may not mean much to you.”

“It means everything to us,” You placed a hand on his chest and you watched as Haja’s face softened at your words.

“Go get your things, I'll go talk to Leia.”

🖾

You were putting medical supplies in your bag when Roken walked in, holding something brown in his hands as he walked up to you and Obi-wan. There were no words spoken as he handed Obi-wan the object he was holding, once you could see the line of dashes you sniffled and gently ran your hands over the holster Tala had used in her final moments. The leather wasn't too damaged, just some scuff marks and scratches that could be repaired. You glanced up at Roken and mouthed a silent thank you, not wanting to break the moment of silence for the person you all lost. Roken pursed his lips in acknowledgment before he left the two of you alone.

Looking back down at the holster you sighed, you don't have a blaster anymore and quite frankly didn't like using one but you didn't want it to go to waste if you had brought it with you and ended up dying tonight if things went the worst way possible.

“Can you teach me how to shoot?” Leia's question to Tala coming back from the depths of your memory.

“I think we should go talk to Leia now.” you whispered looking up at Obi-wan

“I agree.”

It didn't take too long to find Leia, a perk for the smaller ship you were thankful for since there weren't many places for her to hide which led you to find her in a corner with Haja kneeling in front of her, whispering in her ear while Leia looked down at her lap. You grabbed Obi-wan's hand and placed Tala’s holester in it.

“I think you should give it to her.” Obi-wan looked slightly surprised but he clutched it tight in his hand, a silent gesture that showed you he was thankful for the opportunity. Haja heard you talking and said one more thing before he stood up and left the three of you alone.

“Thank you Haja.” you said gratefully as he walked out.

You and Obi-wan walked slowly to Leia, who stubbornly kept her gaze on the floor as she refused to even look at the both of you.

“You said you'd take me home.” she said, bitterly.

“I wish that we could, Leia.” Obi-wan said regretfully. “Really I do.”

Obi-wan thought for a moment before he spoke again.

“Please tell your father we tried.”

Obi-wan kneeled on the ground and held out Talas' holster, handing it to Leia. she ran her small hands over the material slowly.

“Roken found it before we got out, she would have wanted you to have it.”

“It's empty.” she observed and you held back the urge to laugh as Obi-wan rolled his eyes.

“Well, I wasn't gonna give you a blaster, Leia. you're ten years old.”

He sighed.

“But you won't always be.”

You kneeled down next to Obi-wan and put your hand on Leia's leg and squeezed it gently to grab her attention. When she finally looked up at you, and you ignored the slight sting behind your eyes as you stared at her. The reality of leaving her alone and this being possibly the last time you saw your niece crashing down at you at once. Your mouth opening and closing repeatedly trying to find the words to explain what you wanted to say to her but your mind came up short. You stopped trying to talk when she jumped down from where she was sitting and came to hug you, freezing for a moment before you melted into the touch and wrapping your arms around her small frame tightly, your cheek resting on the top of her head as you sighed.

You wanted to remember every feeling of this hug, just in case it was your last. After a few more moments you forced yourself to pull away from her strong grip, and kissed her forehead.

You watched bittersweetly as she jumped into Obi-wan's arms next, his arms wound tight around her just like you did moments ago and closed his eyes for a second. When she pulled away from him she looked at both of you with pleading eyes.

“Come back…Please.” she whispered.

You and Obi-wan hesitated, it was unfair of you to promise something like that when you were so unsure on how this was going to play out, you didn't want to give her false hope.

But you couldn't say no to her, no matter how hard you tried.

“I promise.” You and Obi-wan said together.

You prayed desperately you would be able to keep that promise.

🖾

You and Obi-wan split off from each other, going to one side of the medium sized hangar below the ship as Roken prepared the dropship. You wanted to meditate to clear your mind before you left while Obi-wan attempted to speak to Qui-jon.

Obi-wan was prepared to die if it came to it, giving his life to fix a wrong he had a part in to do what he could to fix a trail of death and destruction that has been carved in the large expanse of the galaxy over the last ten years. However, you were not prepared to lose Obi-wan or die at the hands of someone you knew long ago. No, not at all.

You were terrified.

You never questioned the Jedi when you were in the temple. the training, the robes, the almost dehumanizing set of rules in place that have been embroidered so deeply into you it could've been visible on your skin. You always believed you were the one that needed to change, the Jedi had this practice in place because they were good and if you messed up then you deserved punishment from the council themselves, and you as well as Obi-wan stood by as they broke Anakin down and manipulated him as they told him the same rhetoric they told you and Obi-wan and hundreds before you.

Flashes of memories came to mind as you stood in the hangar of the ship, chances to make a difference, to stand up for a kid who was claimed to be the chosen one but was never given any choices of his own. A basic human right stripped away in the name of protecting peace and bringing balance to the force.

Anakin, Obi-wan, as well as yourself lost a freedom you never got to experience due to the jedi order, and even when it crumbled to the ground like a pile of sand facing a gust of wind the reprecisions of the choices you've made and the jedi order played a direct hand into giving the galactic empire its power which led you hiding away for ten years as you were hunted down for something you didn't ask to be apart of. The fear of being found and the unhealed trauma you and Obi-wan experienced held you back from truly living for yourselves and for each other.

You wanted to live in peace with him. You wanted to love Obi-wan to the point he would feel suffocated in the best way possible, to kiss him, to hug him, to bicker, to give him a part of you no one else would receive and vice versa.

You wanted to heal.

And now that the chance to do any of those things were at stake and you were scared for what is going to come next, scared to face the result of many regrets.

“You okay?”

You turned around and saw Roken, his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. Nodding as you pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes as if you could force the tears back into your tear ducts, clearing your throat you looked back at him.

“Yeah, I will be.” a lie filled with hope slipped out. “The dropship ready?”

Roken nodded.

“I'm about to let Obi-wan know, figured I'd grab you first.”

“Lead the way then.”

You followed Roken to the otherside of the hangar where Obi-wan was in silence, hoping once you saw him his presence would calm you down enough for you to be able to support Obi-wan in any way he needed.

He was sitting on a supply crate, holding his lightsaber in his hands as he inspected it with unease, Most likely trapped in his own thoughts just as you were moments ago.

“Are you ready?” Roken asked him as you walked over to him, your body gravitating to his side like an unknown force was pulling you. “The dropships ready.” Obi-wan stood up, clipping his lightsaber to his belt.

“You don't have to do this, you know.” Roken said, giving one more shot at convincing the two of you to stay. “We can still fix the drive!”

“I have to go.” Obi-wan said.

Roken shook his head and stared at him for a moment.

“It's not about us, is it?” he asked. “You want to do it, it's about you and him.”

A larger explosion shook the ship hard, making you grab Obi-wan's shoulder to balance, you looked at Roken with pleading eyes.

“Keep them safe.”

“Keep yourselves safe too.”

“Roken,” Obi-wan called out. “There are not many leaders left, but people follow you…don't stop.”

Roken smirked and shook his head.

“I'm just getting started.”

🖾

Obi-wan set a path to the nearest planet in the outer rim, not wanting to risk going back to Jabiim where the possibility of imperials were still there. Even now he expertly avoided the shots aimed at your ship, dogging and rolling with ease. You watched out the window as the large imperial ship stopped following Rokens transport.

“Entering the atmosphere.” Obi-wan said.

Your hands curled around the armrests of the co-pilot's chair as the ship rattled roughly as you approached the planet. The next minute of rough turbulence made you hold your breath before it smoothed out and you could make out the terrain of the planet below you. The sky held a dark bluish tint above you with murky gray clouds casted out making it darker than it already was, all around were pillars of rocks tall enough they reminded you of the tall buildings of Coruscant.

Obi-wan landed the ship in a small circle of clear land and powered down the ship, his fingers moving quickly across the control pad turning off the engine. You unbuckle your seatbelt and stand up and look over your shoulder at Obi-wan. He stood up and shrugged off his robe, a loud chirping noise came from his pocket as he pulled out the object and held it up to his face.

Lola beeped excitedly at him and you and Obi-wan looked up at each other and smiled, of course Leia would find a way to comfort you both even without her being present. Obi-wan handled the small droid with care and gently placed her on the dashboard, placed his robe on the pilot's chair, and took a calming breath and opened the door.

“Obi-wan.” you called out quickly, he turned to look at you with concern. “I love you.”

You watched his face soften and he reached his hand out and rested it on your cheek.

“I love you too, starlight.”

Nothing else had to be said, you will be happy if your final words to him were those.

A warm breeze hit your skin as the hatch door lowered, your eyes held a hard gaze at the tall rocks surrounding you as you focused your mind on the target of the soon to be fight and not your emotions. It didn’t matter if it was Anakin or Vader, only one side will make it off this planet tonight.

And you will fight until there is nothing left to ensure it was the two of you.

But you could still feel the anger, fear, and sorrow building inside of you. The control of your darkest emotions had lessened greatly since the fight on mapuzo and the fear of slipping even deeper scared you.

You weren't sure if you could stay in the light and fight Anakin at the same time.

Reaching for Obi-wan’s hand you gripped it tightly, the force of it making him look over at you in worry. He squeezed back with even more force than you did and for a moment everything else drained away.

Then you saw a ship enter the atmosphere and you were dragged back to reality.

Sucking in a deep breath you allowed Obi-wan to drop your hand as the two of you walked down the ramp and far away from the ship to prevent any potential damage. Your boots crunched loudly on the rocky terrain below you as a cold wind swept up your gray vest. You watched in silence as his ship grew closer and closer until it landed in front of you.

The hatch to Anakins ship opened and your hand went to the hilt of your lightsaber as a cacophony of modulated breathing filled the air as he descended down the ramp, a silhouette of black slowly coming toward you like a reaper.

Planting your feet firmly in the ground, you rolled your shoulders, hoping your false confident stance will turn into real confidence. Your eyes flickered to Obi-wan, his blue orbs looking like a stormy gray under the dark sky as you watched his jaw tighten under the weight of his teeth as Anakin began coming towards you. You gripped your lightsaber hard enough you felt the stinging bite of the groves in the metal go into the skin of your hand as the man in black stopped a mere couple feet in front of you.

“Have you come to destroy me Obi-wan?

The blue light from Obi-wan's saber then quickly illuminated the air around you a rich blue as Obi-wan raised his arm in position.

“I will do what I must.”

“Then you will die!” Anakin's modulated voice bellowed as the crimson red light from his lightsaber tainted the air around you, as he moved quickly to jam his blade into Obi-wan's jugular. You parried the blow and swung up from under and knocked your saber against his and rolled to avoid Obi-wan's strike the kickup of dust getting in your eyes as you stood and spun your saber in your hands before changing your grip to stab him in the back, the heat of your blade burned a hole into his cape before Anakin sidestepped away from you and grabbed the back of Obi-wan's neck, lighting him off the ground before throwing him at your feet.

Obi-wan recovered swiftly and rolled onto his feet and yanked you behind him and blocked the attack as he went for both of your heads.

You and Obi-wan knew how Anakin fought and he knew how the both of you fought which created a repetitive game of attacks that forced the three of your further into the rocky terrain of pillars and gravel below your boots leaving you unsteady as lightsaber created a rainfall of sparks as the grinding of mineral surrounding you as Obi-wan shoved Anakin back until Obi-wan raised his hand and used the force to try to throw a rock down on Anakin's head.

Anakin easily caught the rock's weight as the two fought for control before he forced pushed the rock over your heads making shatter on impact once it landed on the ground.

“Your strength has returned.” Anakin mocked before his helmet turned to you. “But the weakness remains!” he shouted before picking up a boulder and throwing it at you, you sliced through the rock and covered your head as the pieces landed behind you.

You watched as Anakin slammed his forearm into Obi-wan's nose and the loud crack that followed, the quick blight of pain allowed him to sweep rocks under Obi-wan making him land on his back. You ran for but went stiff as he used one hand to keep you back as Obi-wan scrambled to get footing Anakin slammed his other hand on the ground, quickly quaking and cracking before a sinkhole formed, swallowing Obi-wan.

“That is why you'll always lose!”

“No!” you screamed.

You watched in horror as boulder after boulder was thrown in after Obi-wan until the sound of his screams were buried under the rocks. Suddenly you felt your legs get pulled to the ground and your back hit the gravel beneath you as he began to drag you with the force. Shards of rock and dirt tore the fabric of your tunic and went into your back as you dug your nails into the solid earth below you to hold yourself back.

Once you were at Anakin's feet you felt the tip of his boot slam into your stomach, you gagged at the force of air leaving you as dark spots filled your vision. You didn't have time to think before you were dragged up a rock and shoved against it, your skull bouncing off the hard matter as you and Anakin's helmet were just a few mere inches apart.

“Did you truly think you two could defeat me?” the modulated voice hissed with detest.

You gasped and struggled in the tight grasp of his robotic hand, the warmth of blood ran down the back of your neck.

“You have failed.” he pointed out

Adrenaline was the only thing keeping you moving, the wheeze’s from your throat loud as the pressure around your throat grew.

“I have seen your potential, Y/n” He said. “Join me and you will no longer be a failure to people. You can be powerful and feared.”

You let out a weak laugh and shook your head.

“I would much rather be a failure trying to do the right thing than to be feared by doing something wrong.” you choked out.

Lifting your leg as high as you could, you planted your foot on the chest plate of the suit and pushed him back causing him to stumble and lose his grip on you, you fell to your feet.

It's been too long since you had to actually calculate and analyze someone in combat and it showed. You were reacting and not thinking through your next moves. If Master Stass had seen it you would have been ripped a new one.

“Focus Y/N, what is his weakness?” you asked yourself. Stumbling forward you truly looked at Vader for the first time, not as the man you once knew but who he was now.

And he was Large

That meant he was slow, his prosthetic limbs also didn't help with that either. All you had to do was be quicker and be relentless, give him no room to breathe let alone react.

Grabbing your lightsaber you began to sprint, pumping your legs as fast as they could go you jumped and landed on Vader's back. You slammed the hilt of your lightsaber over and over into his helmet. Forcing your anger and sorrow into every hit and not stopping when you heard a crack.

Vader's gloved hand reached up and yanked you over his shoulders by your wrist and threw you into the ground below. You activated your lightsaber and slashed at a boulder, and quickly used the force to slam it into his chest making him stumble back. Shooting your hand out, you force pulled him back to you and spun your saber and shoved the hilt into the underside of his jaw, Vader grunted in pain as you slammed your boot into his stomach.

You were enjoying it, your anger growing and fueling your muscles to slam hit after hit into him and you grinned when you were able to slash a cut across his armored chest. It was service level but the heat from it alone had to burn the already charred flesh underneath.

But Vader grew tired of your attacks and was able to grab ahold of the nape of your neck he pushed you face first into one of the large boulders and then hauled you backwards before he shoved you forward again. You face smacking the rocks until you hear a crack in your nose.

You let out a pained shout and when he went to smack you into the rock a third time the ground below began to rumble and shift beneath you.

The ground crumbled as an explosion of rocks exploded from the ground revealing Obi-wan climbing out of the hole he was buried in and going straight to Anakin. Taking advantage of Obi-wan reemergence you swung up and slammed your fist into his throat. Anakin choked for a moment before he refocused on Obi-wan, His lightsaber lighting up the determined look on his face as he slashed his weapon at his former best friend, you watched in amazement as Obi-wan maneuvered quickly around Anakin and parried every attack sent down on him. The clashes of light turned the air around them a bright purple luminating the fight better than the natural glum sky above them ever could.

Obi-wan forced pushed Anakin into a rock a few feet away and you flinched at the pained shout he let out as he fell to his knees. Obi-wan raised his arms above his head and rocks lifted in the air and began to plummet them at him. Anakin slowly worked himself up from the constant blows and threw himself at Obi-wan, tackling him to the ground.

You ignored the rubble that was embedded into the skin of your back and sprinted towards the two of them, the limp in your step slowing you down more than you wanted to admit as you made your way to Obi-wan who recovered quickly from his fall and was standing again. His gaze shifted to you for a moment, eyes wide in adrenaline and Anakin followed his gaze that soon landed on you. Flinching when he raised his hand to use the force you waited for the pressure around your throat, you were too tired and too injured to focus on putting up a mental block from him but the crushing pain never came.

Opening your eyes you saw Obi-wan interlinked their hands and was shoving the hilt of his lightsaber into the box that rested on Anakin's chest repeatedly.You heard Anakin's desperate wheezes as he tired to fight back but more and more sparks shot out as he rammed it harder and harder into his chest before force pushing him backwards and using a bolder to knock him down on his knees, Obi-wan panted before he sprinted and sliced his helmet. The metal burned orange near his head as Anakin kneeled to the ground, Obi-wan stumbled back away from him. Sweat and blood dried to his skin and beard.

Where Obi-wan saw the moment to stop you couldn't, you could end this nightmare right here and the bloodshed would be over.

You reached your hand toward Obi-wans and force pulled his lightsaber out of his hands and into yours, Obi-wan snapped his head towards you as you walked right up to Anakin's kneeling form, his head was tilted down so you couldn't see his face.

Your chest heaved as you held both lightsabers in front of his neck, the blades crossed over each other.

One move, and he would be dead.

“Y/n!” Obi-wan warned, but despite knowing you should listen to your husband you couldn't bring yourself to care.

“Was it worth it?” you seethed. “Losing everyone you loved, everything you were, for this?”

Anakin just wheezed.

The lack of response had you kick him, the force of him bringing him closer to the ground as his wheezing grew louder. You felt like you couldn't breathe, the pain was beginning to choke you and you blinked back tears and out of the corner of your eye you could see his lightsaber a couple feet away from him and you blinked.

He was unarmed.

Suddenly it was like your consciousness had gained the reins of your mind again and you realized what you were doing.

“There's still good in him.”

You've lost too much thanks to Anakin. Your freedom, your friends, your family, and your home.

You refused to lose yourself to him as well.

Deactivating the light sabers, you looked over at Obi-wan with tears in your eyes as he stepped forward and pulled you away from his former Padawan and took back his lightsaber from your shaking hands.

Then Anakin began to laugh, weak and almost breathless as he kept his head hung low.

Until he looked up at the both of you.

“Weak and pathetic.” he seethed. “Coward!”

You and Obi-wan watched in horror as half of his charred face came into the light, burned to the point his skin looked like leather leaving him almost unrecognizable.

Obi-wan lowered his lightsaber in shock at the state of his former brother.

“Anakin” Obi-wan called out softly.

You watched as Anakin stood up and you froze as bright yellow eyes burned into you like the fires on Mustafar.

You couldn't believe those eyes are the same one that held childlike wonder the first time he saw rain.

“Anakin is gone.” he said, his voice distorted from the modulator being damaged. “I am what remains.”

You watched Obi-wans teared up and let out a shaky sigh, his face crumbling in guilt.

“I'm sorry, Anakin.” Obi-wan cried. “For all of it.”

“I am not your failure Obi-wan.” Anakin said. “You didn't kill Anakin Skywalker.”

A twisted grin pulled at the burnt skin of Anakin's cheeks.

“I did. The same way I will destroy you and her.” he spat.

You ignored the tears that burned at your eyes, threatening to fall as Obi-wan shook his head.

“Then our friend is truly dead.”

You watched the man in front of you sway as he held his lightsaber, ready to fight again.

Obi-wan put away his lightsaber and you quickly follow suit, this fight was over. And the truth was the man in front of them both now was someone who deserved to die but despite everything you or Obi-wan couldn't bring yourself to do it.

You bit the inside of your cheek as you looked at the man who used to be Anakin Skywalker, the little boy you held at night, helped train, cooked for, and loved like he was your own blood.

That little boy was gone and what remained in front of you was a stranger you resented.

“Goodbye…Darth.” Obi-wan said before he turned and looked at you and without a single word he put your shoulder around him and supported your weight as you both walked away together.

Beaten, bloody, and exhausted.

Together.

Taglist:

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@ginger-swag-rapunzel

@padsfirewhisky

@howtobeamoth

@viviandarko

@thegirlwith-curlyhair

@mrcaptainrex

@mysun-n-stars

@carpeanxiety-blog

#star wars #obi wan star wars #obi-wan x you #obi wan kenobi x y/n #Obi-Wan Kenobi #obi wan kenobi x reader #anakin and obi wan #ewan mcgregor x reader #Ewan McGregor #sw fandom #SW Fanfic #obi wan fic #star wars the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars prequels #star wars angst #obi wan imagine #obi wan kenobi

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thegirlisuedtobe · 11 months

Note

hey your post were you mention the narrator of rebecca lies by omission is haunting (pun intended teehee) me, what did you mean when you said she lies by omission, feel free to rant btw

-💗

Did you mean [this] post?

AHH!! mrs de winter,,, that girl is a liar and the most conniving woman i have ever had the pleasure of reading jk

but actually i mean it tho that she does lie by omission. i tagged this as the musical but in terms of the show, i dont think she actually lies in that one, especially as far as how most actors in that role interpret her character.

but book mrs de winter?? my goodness,,,, when i made this post the scene i was really thinking was the prologue for the most part, when shes describing her life living with maxim at that hotel after the fire. there's this kind of way where shes saying shes content but like against her descriptions about the kind of glamour that manderley had, their quaint life together feels so,,, dreary, like a half existence, not really a life not really in death yknow? if u read in between the lines at this listless kind of development of setting, shes saying all these things about living an ordinary life but in a tone where shes not satisfied with it at all,,,

this quote from the the top of chapter 2 is like one that gets referenced a lot but people never quote the whole thing, she says "we have conquered ours, or so we believe." like first of all who the fuck says "or so we believe" in a statement where shes trying to justify or rationalise the ordeal that they went through and the outcome of it (being this dreary life) as a net positive,,, like why are u being so ominous now,,, and then the next line "the devil does not ride with us" like babe,,, ur not being honest with yourself,,,, u just said "oh we conquered ours, jk unless,,, but we did yknow," she has such a flip floppy way of framing things that makes u question which is it really? i think its a testament to that idea of rebecca being a mirror and finding what you want to see, and for me i see this person desperately trying to frame something that is still deeply affecting her to this present day as if it doesnt. like someone else who might wish to feel the same way might only see the oh we've conquered it and not pick up on the unease of or so we believe, just that the devil does not ride us anymore. to a reader who wants to see that, they will interpret this quote as a triumph, which often is usually the case.

like she says that the unrest has "mercifully stilled" but at the drop of a hat "the past is still too close to us." their situation remains in this precarious balance, if they go too far in any direction they endanger this so called peace,,, this is not a life that has progressed beyond what happened,,,

and the cherry on top is this beautifully long gorgeous passage that is EXPOSING HER for her lies about being happy in this small hotel half-existence with maxim. u just have to read all of it actually to understand, and if u dont, well,,,

(i also annotated it; red is the negative aspects, blue is the postive/their ordinary life, and green is when she starts talking about manderley and her love of that place)

i feel like its so easy to attribute the love of manderley as being primarily held by danny or by rebecca or by maxim even, but the person who loves manderley most in this novel (yes by virtue of it being a first person pov but also bc its true) is mrs de winter. i highlighted in my physical copy of rebecca ever single time she mentioned manderley in a very flattering or loving way and its basically the whole book. she loves this castle, this place is the epitome of all her aspirations; becoming a lady, rising in class status, the image of a perfect marriage a perfect home a perfect family, manderley holds all of that in her heart so when she talks about manderley she exposes herself so deeply if you are willing to listen to her.

that part about her saying "colour and scent and sound, rain and the lapping water, even the msits of autum and the smell of the flood tide," these things that quite truly colours our quality of life are "secret indulgences" implies that these inherent basic things that make life beautiful are things she cant access without rocking the seemingly still peace that they have. especially with the way that maxim reacts to it and how she picks up on that. she has to rely on the dull and the boring monotonies to continue that so called peace even though thats not whats personally fulfilling for her,,, the line where she says "we prefer to store up our excitement; the result of a cricket match played many days ago means much to us" ,,, doesnt that sound so sad? theyre not even living in the moment anymore, if they did i think it would kill them to be quite honest.

so many of the positive/ordinary lifestyle descriptions are weaved against these pitiful sounding statements and its truly like,,, why stitch it like this? if daphne du maurier wanted us to feel like this was the life that was better, the one that you should choose or idealise, than the chaos of manderley why did she write it like this? why not just say that she was happy, why add those hints of melancholy?

and because of that i feel like shes lying by omission. its like all these things shes saying are half truths. its true that ordinary or even dull days are better than chaotic ones because youre not pained by such hurtful circumstances but at what cost? the joy and excitement of life? its like all of her descriptions of their life after the fire are backhanded compliments,,,, im just so curious about the other half that she isnt saying,,, when she doesnt say what shes implying it just feels like what she did say was a lie by omitting the rest of it.

does that make sense? do u get it?

#rebecca daphne du maurier #rebecca das musical #rebecca korea #like theres soooooo many passage that read like this in the book its kind of insane............#i also cut it out from this bc it was getting long but legit the next page she forgets shes not supposed to be #indulging in manderley memories but her mind just wanders and then all of a suddent shes thinking about danny so #like u can say ur over it and then keep dreaming about manderley!! U ARE A LIAR THE EPITOME OF AN UNRELIABLE NARRATOR!!#i love her so much <3

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mikmiho · 10 months

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Uhh hihi tumblr, this is a an essay on David chiem’s personality, I hope you enjoy. (Please keep in mind that I haven’t watched drdt in a while so there may be some mistakes idk though) anyway^^^^

Ever since episode 11, I’ve been thinking about David and his personality. He begins as an optimistic and friendly person, in episode 11 it then turns out that David was really manipulative and lying throughout the series, being a cold-hearted, pessimistic liar. But this ‘true’ david, I believe that is a lie.

David has always seemed suspicious ever since the beginning of drdt because of his sudden changes in behaviour only see for a few seconds before reverting back to normal.This can also make us conclude that the majority of his actions were made because of his ulterior motives, occasionally getting tired of pretending to be such a nice person. But most people would probably just tell me that I’m reality he was always a bad person as he bad mouthed arei even before he received suspicious during the second trial but beforehand the single time ( at least of what I remember) he broke character was in the prologue saying ‘Ugh, am I done with these dumb introductions already?This really sucks. Damn, why’d I even come to this ridiculous school? I hate talking to people anyway…I wish I were in bed…’ These lines were said whilst forgetting Teruko was present, being the most accurate example of his personality prior to chapter 2. You may think this sounds quite similar to how David is currently but I disagree. He speaks here without swearing, despite how visually annoyed he appears contrasting to when he had been in episode 11. In my opinion, I interpreted these lines as David still being a (manipulative) liar but only doing that on the outside as it’s what’s expected of him, getting irritated that due to his popularity he can’t act with sincerity. I base this theory (?) mostly off of this artwork.

David in the art is seen as happy being praised by an adult or an inportant figure in his life. I regularly believe that praise was something David enjoyed receiving as a child repairing in his wanting to act a certain way to be someone that could be admired.This would have eventually spiralled out of control to the point whereas all David ever said were lies to make people happier.

This is why I believe that David’s personality is not what he had shown in episode 11.

Now I must cover the topic of why he had acted differently during the trial.

Well, despite how I’m covering his personality shown in the second trial, i need to talk i about another scene first, David and arei’s (+ teruko, she doesn’t say anything) scene in the playground (ep 5 of chapter2).

This scene is what I believe is the second (still not sure if he broke character between chapter 1 and 2 so I’m still not sure whether I’m right but) scene where he breaks character, this time being much more subtle.The scene I’m referring to begins after arei breaks down in-front of David (+teruko), being calmed down by David afterwards, ( what David said ,I don’t currently have an opinion on whether he meant it or not as it probably was he default reaction to this sort of scene) David is then surprised by arei hugging David back and possibly also her line,‘You’re nice too’. I believe that his reaction is his real self in the scene, this is something I believe because David is bashful, sweating (slightly) and even stutter which had never (probably) happened to David before in drdt.His reaction tells us that it was something not part of his ‘calculation’, making his very bashful, not getting to react as he would in any other circumstances.

Now, when comparing the behaviour i had talked about previously to David (post reveal), David swears very frequently in speech, he is cocky, he is easily irritated and casually lies; this being the complete opposite of how we all know David. David even acts in a way which makes him seem much more different from the prologue David which was irritated and tired and would be much more likely to swear in those circumstances.

This may be me jumping to conclusions but I believe that the prologue David is the real David whilst the other two versions are personas made to create an image of himself. The prologue David is someone that is tired of putting up with being such a optimistic person and just wants to act casually, letting his guard down once it’s slightly quieter, implying that even within those circumstances that may have been calmer that his average day. And Optimistic David was someone that seemed both perfect and normal all at once, being someone that was truely perfect, being relatable and a figure of inspiration. Finally there is our ‘true’ David which is cocky, rude, manipulative and an liar.

This ‘true’ version of David revealed in episode 11 can be explained simply by being an extreme type of prologue David, one that patronises, looks down on and makes fun of everyone regardless of who they once were to him, David continually pushes this cocky personality with a foul mouth so much to the point whereas it just seems he’s doing this just to push this agenda of how awful of a person he is.So much so that I can say with certainty that this ‘real’ David is a lie.

Some wouldn’t believe me after than, well I haven’t provided any evidence to back up my theory, well I’ll be analysing the moment whereas David ‘admits to killing arei’. During the chain of events leading to this ‘reveal’, there’s an evident change in his mind, that changing from being defensive to admitting his ‘crimes’, having to refer back to his speech about min ensuring that everyone is keeping in mind that this David is the ‘real’ one.Although this act does break briefly once he ‘admits’ that he killed arei. It’s easily notable that David appears to be in lots of pain saying ‘I killed arei’ even stuttering beforehand. His sprite is covered in sweat,squinting his eyes even having to grab onto his opposite arm for support.Evidently he’s suffering greatly from saying this, only ‘confessing’ this to keep up with the character he’s attempting to portray.

His story also changes consistently throughout the trial to match the current conversation topic, I we can assume that david’s beginning to lose hope in his lie and began spouting out downgrading statements and claims just to act as someone who’s confident with the current situation despite his real mental state.

Of course even after everything there’s a reason why David began to portray this fake version of himself during the trial rather than revealing the truth. The only possibility currently is guilt. The guilt of having someone’s blood on his hands, not just one person but two. Naturally you would say that David was not the cause of either of Xander and Arei’s deaths but in David’s eyes, he would believe otherwise. In chapter 1 episode 5 David was present whilst Teruko and Xander discussed meeting in the computer room and yet did nothing and then in chapter 2, David was one of the last people to see Arei alive aside from her killer. All of this guilt could have pushed him to a point whereas he feels that he must atone for his crimes by becoming this awful person we know David as now. Maybe even continuing this act so much to the point whereas he wants to be executed for his ‘crimes’. An illogical route leaving everyone aside from the killer dying just because he can’t stand still living with ‘his actions’ never backing down because david just can’t carry this burden any longer. The burden of Xander, Arei and all of the people he’s ever lied to and manipulated, all just too much for David.

#drdt theory #drdt spoilers #drdt chapter 2 #drdt #drdt david #david chiem

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rosepetalsinwinter · 2 years

Text

Meant to Be — Bucky Barnes (1)

Chapter 1 — Stalker's Tango

Pairing: mafia!bucky x innocent!reader

Word count: 7,030

Summary: The reader and her friends are introduced. But who is that mysterious figure watching her?

Note: What do you guys think of Nathan? Such a dreamboat!... Right?

Ao3│Wattpad│Ko-fi

Main Masterlist│Series Masterlist│Series Playlist

Prologue — Chapter 1 — Chapter 2

Happy reading!! 💜💜

“The best liar is he who makes the smallest amount of lying go the longest way.”

—Samuel Butler

April 22, 2018

He was but a shadow. One of many. But that was his job, to hide and stay hidden. To be unseen and unheard, and most of all, to watch her.

The girl had been his target for the better part of the past few years, and oh, was she trouble. Though that was to be expected, considering her pedigree. He did not carry any false pretenses, he knew his task would be difficult, but he had overestimated the degree to which he would struggle getting close to her.

In the end, however, he found a way. A tricky, slightly dangerous way. Dangerous to both his heart and Hers, but a solution, nonetheless, to the problem currently sleeping in her seventeenth-floor dorm room, completely oblivious to his presence just outside her building.

She had been upset, yesterday, over something he paid little attention to, but if he were any good at his job and his intuition was correct, then she would awake any moment.

And there… he was right. Light joined the various others scattered across the building—students pulling all-nighters. A head peeked up from that one specific window he had his sights on. There she is.

The girl stayed there for a moment, and he thought briefly, with an amused smirk, that if she looked down, she would see him.

He imagined the surprise on her face, the initial shock and confusion slowly setting in, taking over her body and freezing her limbs. She tended to freeze under the threat of danger, and that was what he would become if he were found looking up at her.

Danger.

He pondered on it for a beat. No, he did not want her to know. He did not want to upset the girls and cause them unnecessary harm. Something painful stirred in him at the idea.

Betrayal.

And he did not want to lose Her trust—more than he already had, though she was blissfully unaware of it. But he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter, now, did he? An unfortunate consequence. If not him, then somebody else. If not now, then never.

He decided he was not ready to let go of all he had gained. Some time passed as he waited. Then, like clockwork, he saw her, head down with a towel clutched in her arms. Alone. He frowned, and when the girl left, he left with her, blending in with the shadows—watching her, always watching her.

So, he followed, memorizing everything she did. Every falter in her steps, every heavy exhale of breath. It was his job, after all.

He followed, knowing there was only one way this would end. But he ignored all the warnings. He told himself the end justified the means, that she would understand why he had to do what he did. That she would forgive him.

He blended in with the shadows, stopping when she stopped, moving when she moved. He hid when she looked around—Ah! There was that paranoia, though it did not last very long, for she was walking again, oblivious to the fact that he was watching. Always watching.

He watched as she plunged herself into the water, held his breath when she stayed submerged for a minute too long, and watched again as she hummed an old tune while drying herself off.

Only when she was back in her room did he let himself relax. He pulled out his phone to type a quick message.

All clear

There, and he was done for the next few days. He was about to put his phone away when he noticed an unopened message.

It’s the least u could’ve done 😑

Immediately, he began to type.

Sorry about that. Let me make it up to you tomorrow.

Her response came right away.

I have some good news!

It made him smile. It seemed the only time he smiled now was when he was with Her.

With one last smile and one last longing look, he disappeared back into the shadows as if he were never there. Though, he left his heart behind, as he always did.

She awoke in a cold sweat, the remnants of the nightmare still flashing behind her eyes. For a few moments, she was back in the dark and musty room, holding her brother’s limp body in her small arms, shaking him periodically and willing him to open his eyes.

“Someone’s coming! Wake up. We have to go!”

There was not much she remembered of that night, but the parts she did? ...well, they were not pleasant.

Not pleasant at all.

The girl blindly felt around for the lamp on her side table, finally able to breathe once her room lit up in a soft orange glow. She was safe. Safe in her dorm, surrounded by her books and her haphazardly strewn clothes. Safe from prying eyes and threatening men.

Despite the terror clinging to her skin, she could not help but feel disburdened—reliving her nightmare in the privacy of her own room. Guilt still brought hot, shameful tears to her eyes whenever she remembered disturbing her roommate due to her night terrors.

At least now she could be miserable in peace. Her two-bedroom dorm—while on the pricier side, gave the girl the freedom to keep her secrets just that, a secret. She had to pick up extra shifts to afford it, robbing her of any social life she could have had, but she was close with her friend and was living comfortably for the first time in years.

She tossed her blanket from her burning body and turned towards the floor-to-ceiling window, leaning slightly to take in the view from Founders House. The North Pacific stretched out in front of her, the waves shining under the glow of a full moon, and she instantly felt calmer, though the slight tremor in her hands remained.

A reminder.

She reached for her phone to check the time. Three AM. Her mother would be awake right now, tending to the garden, watering her precious azaleas and roses. The girl instinctively dialled her mother’s number, needing to hear her voice. She would calm her down as she always did, would understand as she always did.

The call went straight to voicemail. The girl called the number again, frowning when the automated response answered her instead of the silvery and soothing voice she was usually greeted by. Anxiety settled in the girl’s gut, something she was not used to anymore, having left that turbulent part of her life behind.

Mrs. Burgundy always picked up her daughter’s call. It wasn’t often they were able to talk, and so Eleanor Burgundy took every opportunity she could to check up on the girl. It could be the middle of the night in New York or just before the crack of dawn, and her mother always picked up before the last ring.

No matter what.

The shrill sound of the girl’s ringtone broke the deafening silence. She answered immediately, sweaty fingers sliding against the cold screen. “Hello?”

Silence greeted her on the other end. “Mama? Hello, are you there? I've been calling you all week. Was starting to get worried.” Then the rhythmic inhale-exhale of someone breathing, slowly rose to the surface.

She checked the caller ID and, sure enough, it was her mother. “Mama?”

A low voice murmured her name, a man, with raspy breath and clipped words. Then, “end the call,” sounding urgent and panicked. And silence once more.

The girl shook as fear crawled up her spine. She called her mother back, but alas, it went straight to voicemail.

“Hi, this is Eleanor Burgundy. I’m most likely busy right now, so please call again later, and I’ll be sure to pick up this time. No promises though! Bye!”

Could it be? No, it couldn’t. They had been so careful. Yet, paranoia began to fester in her mind, making her doubt her reality. She chalked the disturbance up to her nightmare. She was fine. Safe. Her mother was fine too. Most likely busy with an affair of her father’s, she must not have realized she picked up her daughter’s call.

It was a pocket dial. Yes, it must have been that. A mere accident.

Water. She needed water. The girl made her way to the kitchen on shaky legs and grabbed a cold bottle from the fridge. She gulped half of it in one breath and the other half in a second.

“Pass me one, Kitty Cat?”

The girl turned towards the dining table to see her roommate sitting cross-legged on a chair, surrounded by various cups of half-finished coffee and piles of paper. “I hate when you call me that,” she mumbled under her breath, though her friend heard her clearly. “I have a name, you know.”

“I know,” her friend replied.

“Dove, you should be sleeping,” the girl answered with a sigh as she sat down next to her and passed her a water.

Dove checked the time on her laptop before shrugging carelessly. “Whatever, it’s not that late. It’s only three AM, and besides, I have an exam in the morning which isn’t gonna learn itself.”

She cringed, pulling at the ends of her dirty blonde hair. “Ew. Did that make sense? I don’t think that made any sense. ‘Isn't gonna learn itself?’ What the fuck does that even mean? I swear to God, this shitty coffee is literally making me lose brain cells—not that I had any in the first place. I'm so fucking stupid. Who—”

“Dove.” the girl gently interrupted her friend. “It made sense.”

Whereas Dove was fast-paced, both in her manner of speaking and in how her brain processed information, the girl was the opposite, and not just in that same regard.

The girl was quiet compared to Dove. Softer and more gentle. The difference between the two was clear as night and day after only a single conversation. The girl did not like confrontation and did not let herself get angry if she could help it. Every day was a struggle to keep her emotions in check. Nothing about her could stand out. She needed to be as inconspicuous as possible, which, evidently, did the exact opposite for her. Instead, she stood out like a sore thumb beside her friend.

Dove was loud and extroverted. Free-spirited, much like her given name, she flew past words and ideas. She spoke her mind and spoke it fast, her tongue in a constant race against her thoughts. She was taller than the girl, with longer legs and poutier lips. Paler and more confident, whereas the girl was meek and docile.

However, their correlating characteristics were not without cause. Their pasts had shaped their futures. Dove was a middle child of eight, forced to be loud to be noticed and heard, and it had done her well for university life, making her the center of every party. Everyone wanted to be friends with Dove Rivers. Her contagious charisma brought both attention and confidence to those around her.

The girl, on the other hand, had suffered something quite drastic compared to Dove. She became discreet and quiet because her surroundings demanded so. And so far, it had worked. There was no unnecessary attention surrounding her. She was not popular or at the bottom of the social hierarchy. Save for a few things, like her academic standing, she was, for all intents and purposes… average.

Not very pretty, but not too bad to look at either. Smart, but without a claiming reputation. And she was forgettable, which suited her just fine.

Dove smiled brightly, white teeth peeking through her lips. “You're right. It did make sense.” After a few moments of silence, she abruptly closed her laptop, turning her attention to the girl beside her. “Why are you awake?”

The girl looked away, shame taking over her delicate features. “No reason.” For God’s sake, she was in the final year of graduate school. There was no reason for her to still be having nightmares.

Dove paused, pursing her lips in thought. Her friend’s non-answer was answer enough. “Another nightmare?” she asked.

The softness and concern behind the question made the girl burn with even more shame. She merely nodded, unable to meet Dove’s eyes, unable to bear the pity that no doubt resided in her green irises.

“That’s the third one this week.” Dove’s voice was hesitant. Soft, as if she were talking to a wounded animal.

And the girl supposed she was one. A kitten, trying to survive in a world run by vicious wolves. She gave another nod.

“Kitty… are you alright?—”

“Perfect!” she interjected hastily, supporting an overly fake smile, and winced at the desperation lacing her words. “I’m perfect. Just stressed about work.” She hoped Dove believed her, that she saw truth woven between all the lies.

And she did. Dove rose a skeptical brow before relenting, moving on to another issue. “Yeah? What’s up? I’ve barely seen you this past month.”

It was not as if it were a complete lie. Though it was not the reason sleep evaded her, money was turning out to be a bigger problem than the girl anticipated. Expenses were piling up, and if she wanted to keep living in Vancouver after graduation, she needed an efficient savings plan, especially with all the loans she would have to pay.

“I had to pick up extra shifts at work. I, uh—I won’t have enough for a place to live after graduation.” It was discouraging to think this was where all her hard work led her. And it was embarrassing to admit as much to Dove. Dove, who was bright and perky and pretty, without a care for the world.

“Kitty…” Dove began, her voice filled with pity.

“Maybe if I skip grad and try applying to that cleaning job posted at the student centre, then maybe I’ll have enough to make ends meet.”

“No,” came Dove’s firm reply. “Money is not going to be an issue for you. I told you I’d take care of you.”

“And I told you I won’t take your charity.” The girl sighed and took a sip of water. “I’m not helpless, Dove. I have options—granted, they’re not the best, but they are viable. There’s a place in Chinatown I found for cheap. I think I’m gonna take it.”

“And?” Dove encouraged the girl to continue.

She didn’t want Dove knowing the details because she would object, but what other choice did she have? “And I saw an ad on the SkyTrain looking for a roommate. It’s only a thousand for the month, and I’d be sharing with three other guys—”

“No fucking way!” Dove exclaimed. “Fuck that!”

“Okay,” the girl snapped. “I get it. You don’t like the idea, but there’s no need to swear.”

But Dove wasn’t listening. Spurred on by rightful indignation, she let out a few more choice words. “Are you crazy? You wanna live in a house filled with strange men?”

“No, of course, I don’t. And besides, it’s an apartment, not a house.”

Dove scoffed at the girl’s attempt at a rebuttal. “That makes no difference. Chinatown? Really? Just last week some woman was found raped and killed in an alley near Victory Square.”

Dove tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and began to fidget with the pen in her hand. “God! Vancouver’s turning into a Francis Coppola movie. There’s mini Michael’s popping out everywhere.” At the confused look on her friend's face, Dove asked, “Haven’t you seen The Godfather? It’s a mobster movie. Kinda graphic, lots of blood.”

The girl paled significantly, shocked by the words leaving Dove’s mouth. “What?” she choked out.

“Yeah. It’s pretty cool. It’s based on a book about this crime family in New York. Michael—he’s the main character—he doesn’t want to be a part of the ‘family business,’ but after some drama with his father, he’s kinda forced to get involved. By the end of the movie—”

But the girl wasn’t listening anymore. Her ears rang, and her palms became sweaty. “—a book about this crime family in New York.” “—a mobster movie… graphic… lots of blood.”

Her thoughts kept getting stuck on the same thing. Crime family. New York. What were the odds? She was almost four thousand kilometres away and still wasn’t far enough.

She could feel abrasive rope digging into her wrists, metal digging into her back. The scent of blood was thick in the air as it dripped down from the ceiling and pooled at her feet until she was choking on it.

As the ringing got louder, a deep voice called her name from a distance. Moving closer and closer, until—

“—Kitty, are you listening?”

The girl nodded numbly, blinking as the room came back to focus.

“So, you’ll do it? You’ll move in with me?” Dove asked hopefully.

“Dove,” the girl frowned, feeling duped. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not. I’m offering. What else is daddy’s credit card good for? He’s so busy with his own shit he won’t even care what I do.” There was an underlying tone of resentment in Dove’s words, and the girl would've mentioned it if she was not shaken up. “As long as I don’t bother him at work,” Dove laughed, “he won’t bother me. So?”

A refusal was right on the tip of her tongue, but Dove interrupted her. “And don’t even think of saying no. I’m not letting you stay alone in a neighbourhood filled with mobsters. And I’m not going to bed until you agree.”

Mobsters. There was that word again.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll move in with you.”

Dove shot out of her seat and wrapped the girl in a bone-crushing hug. “Yes! We’re gonna have so much fun!” Her sight landed on the wall clock, and she cursed under her breath. “I have to wake up early tomorrow. Oh, and I have to call Peter. He’s gonna be so excited. I promise we’ll keep the PDA to a minimum around you, okay? There will be no awkward interactions.”

The girl nodded numbly, not quite understanding what she agreed to.

“You gonna go to bed soon?” Dove asked, walking backward towards her room.

“Yes,” she lied.

“I’ll see you tomorrow during your shift, then. Love you! Goodnight!” And the door slammed behind her.

The girl didn’t like lying. It was a nasty and horrible thing. She hesitated only slightly before grabbing her suit and a towel, leaving her dorm, making sure not to disturb Dove.

Nowhere was far enough anymore.

It started slowly, a tingle in her spine, crawling up her shoulders and towards her neck. The feeling of someone watching her. She surveyed her surroundings, once, then twice, then seemingly happy with the absence of any other soul, the girl turned her back towards the sand.

The water was freezing compared to the warm air surrounding her, and the girl ran her hands down her arms to conserve her body heat. This was so unlike her, venturing into the open ocean all alone. Dove usually accompanied the girl on her midnight dips, but something felt different this time.

Crime family.

New York.

Dove’s words kept echoing in her ears. She was a business major on weekdays, a Lifeguard on weekends, and a musician during the days in between. Dove always waited out on the sand, making sure the girl was not swept away by the waves.

She supposed she was crazy—at least that’s what any passerby would think to find a young woman, who could not swim, alone in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Except, the only peace she found nowadays was when water pressed on her from all sides, burning her lungs and forcing her to hold her breath. The act bordered on being almost suicidal in nature, but the truth was she did not want to die. In fact, the idea of death scared her so much that she could not think about it for more than a few minutes at a time.

She just sometimes wished to be able to turn back time, to keep her mother from meeting her father. And if that meant the girl’s birth would have never come to pass? Well, it wasn’t something that particularly bothered her.

There weren’t too many opportunities in her childhood for her to learn to swim, and she was much too indifferent in her adult years to start a new skill. But the waves were tame, the tide was low, and she would be safe if she did not venture too far.

She submerged her legs in the water, then her stomach and her arms. When it reached her shoulders, she stopped, looking for a moment at the moon. It was a beautiful night, and she wished she could have enjoyed it, but she did not know how to. The girl had not enjoyed much of anything in the past ten years.

She found there to be a vulnerability in standing under the open skies in nothing but a flimsy swimsuit, surrounded by cool water and wet sand. Anyone could be watching. Anyone could see the crazy, lone girl out for a swim in the middle of the night.

Maybe that is what she liked. The vulnerability—the control despite the danger. She could not very well scream her woes out into the open night sky for fear of someone overhearing her. And she could not let herself succumb to her sadness with no one to catch her.

Yes, she had Dove, Peter too, but she did not want to burden them with her past. She would never willingly drag them into the life she ran from. So she would never cry or complain after a bad dream or after a memory of her brother resurfaced. No. She would walk the short distance to the beach and submerge her head. She would let the water obliterate the world outside and let herself be surrounded by complete and utter silence.

It started slowly, a tingle in her spine, crawling up towards her neck. The feeling of someone watching her. She surveyed her surroundings, once, then twice, then seemingly happy with what she found, the girl turned her back towards the sand. She was tired.

She took a deep breath and bent her knees. The ocean enveloped her, washing away all her thoughts, and the ringing in her ears that seemed to follow her everywhere... subsided. She closed her eyes, resisting the urge to inhale a lungful of water, finally feeling calm after weeks of unease. She could feel only the cool water, hear only her heart beating away in her chest, and see absolutely nothing. She relished in it, and only when air turned lava in her lungs did she straighten her knees and take a desperate breath in, letting all her troubles invade her mind once again.

The nightmare, long forgotten.

April 23, 2018

The smell of coffee was strong in the air, the richness cut through by the faint aroma of sweet bread and savoury pastries. The daily rush of students and faculty alike, all in need of a hefty dose of caffeine, had dispersed with the start of the morning classes.

It was around noon when the girl got a slight reprieve from making latte after latte. She was sitting on a small crate towards the back of the café, stretching her limbs and flexing her numb fingers. She could feel the beginnings of a migraine tightening behind her eyes, forged together due to the stress of the past week. She had a presentation due yesterday for her Principles of Investigative Journalism class, one she had been working on for the better part of the month. The grades were to be released that day during class, and the anticipation was keeping her on edge, making her confuse coffee orders and make silly mistakes.

She heard the little bell over the door jingle, alerting her to a customer, and she shot out of her hiding spot to attend to them. “Hi! What can I…” her words trailed in a startled gasp.

The man in front of her was beautiful. Medium built and an average height for a hockey player. Long lashes framed his dark eyes, and a smile graced his pink lips. “Can I get a small Irish coffee to stay?”

The girl stumbled back a step, grabbing a mug from the counter behind her. “Yes, of course.” Her body took too long to catch up with her brain, and she suddenly remembered one very important detail. “Oh!” She turned around. “We don’t actually serve that. Sorry.”

The man in front of her looked perplexed. “Why not?”

“Because we’re not a bar. W—we’re not licensed to sell alcohol.”

The man huffed in mild annoyance. “Alright. Can I just get a cappuccino then?”

She nodded an assent and began to prepare his new drink. Shoot! Coffee splashed onto her hands when she was filling the mug. The girl groaned under her breath and ran her hand under cold water from the tap. She was all too aware of his eyes watching her every move.

In the background, the muffled laugh of her friend reached her ears. Dove was sitting at a table near the front, nursing a green tea latte and working on a resume for a job at a marketing company. The two linked eyes, and Dove gave her friend an exaggerated wink.

“Go for it,” she mouthed silently.

Frazzled, and embarrassed by the extra attention, the girl rushed to finish making the drink. “Here you go. A small Cappuccino to stay.”

The man hummed. “Are Cappuccinos supposed to be so… dark?”

To her horror, she realized she accidentally served him an Americano instead of a Cappuccino. “I’m so sorry! I’ll make you another right away.”

Dove couldn’t keep silent this time and snickered. Thankfully, the man didn’t look too bothered, if anything, he was amused by her blunder. “Okay, I’ll be sitting over there,” he pointed to a seat near the window, a few places down from Dove.

Spurred on by embarrassment, the girl was sure to not make any mistakes this time. She grabbed a blueberry scone from behind the display and made her way to the man. “Your Cappuccino, and a scone on the house. I’m really sorry for the mix-up.”

“It happens. Whatever.” He shook off her apology with a little shrug, then he smiled. “I’m Nathan.”

“I know.” Her mouth opened before she could stop herself. Mortification flooded her body, and it took everything in her not to scream and fall over right then and there.

“You know?” he smirked.

Of course, she knew. How could she not? The Nathan Acosta, the boy she had secretly been pining over for more than a year, was sitting in the café she worked at, smiling at her. It was both a dream and a nightmare at the same time.

The girl made an incoherent sputtering noise, unable to look him in the eyes. “We were in the same class last year,” she shrugged.

“I remember,” he said casually, making the girl look at him. “Kitty, right?”

She opened her mouth to disapprove and told him her real name.

“I’m surprised you can fit anything other than hockey terms in that stupid brain of yours,” Dove called out.

“Fuck you, Rivers,” Nathan laughed.

“You wish, Acosta,” Dove quipped.

The girl listened to the exchange with wide eyes and slight mortification. She knew the two were acquainted but was surprised by their frankness.

A heat grew in her chest, one that she identified as jealousy. Of course, Dove was close with Nathan, and of course they bartered back and forth like best friends. Dove was everything the girl wasn’t.

Nathan didn’t notice quiet girls like her. Though, it’s not like it mattered anyway if he paid her any attention because nothing could come of it. She would always be alone, and she was fine with that. Truly, she was.

This crush she had on Nathan was fleeting and inconsequential. It would fizzle out once they graduated, and he wouldn’t spare her another thought.

“When does your shift end?” Nathan asked the girl.

“Three-thirty,” she answered.

He smiled, so bright and big that she couldn’t help smiling back. “I wanna take you out.”

And just like that, her smile fizzled.

“What?” she asked, mortified.

“Let’s grab a slice of pizza after your shift. Around five, five-thirty?”

Nathan’s words were so casual that it took a moment for the meaning to set in. Though they were mostly alone in the café, the girl looked to the left and then to the right, making sure there were no cameras trained on her, or wandering eyes wanting to catch her in a moment of bewilderment.

“Pizza?” she questioned.

“Yeah,” Nathan shrugged. “Unless you’re one of those girls who only eat salads.”

“I’m not,” the girl said, only because she could say nothing else.

“Good.” Nathan took a sip of his Cappuccino, pursing his lips at the strong flavour. “No sugar?” he asked, gesturing to his cup.

“Cappuccinos don’t have sugar traditionally.”

“Right. So, it’s a date?”

The girl wiped her sweaty hands on her apron, thinking of an appropriate response. Surely there had been some mistake. Maybe Nathan had her confused with someone else—unlikely, because she looked nothing like the girls he hung out with—or maybe he hit his head during practice and got a concussion.

“I don’t know if I can—”

“She would love to!” Dove interrupted.

“Great!” Nathan exclaimed before the girl could say anything. He grabbed his drink and put his sunglasses down. “I’ll be outside your dorm. See you soon, baby.” And as fast as he came, he left.

The two friends looked at each other. Dove, with a wide smile and the girl with wide eyes. “I feel sick,” said the girl.

“You’ll be fine,” Dove reassured her.

“No, I—I don’t…” she lowered herself on the chair Nathan previously occupied. “Oh my God, I—What? What just happened?”

“You got asked on a date by the captain of the hockey team,” Dove pointed out the obvious.

“No,” she whispered.

“And you said yes.”

“No,” she said louder. “I didn’t.”

Dove took a long sip of her latte. “You didn’t,” she agreed. “I said yes for you.”

“Dove,” the girl grimaced, “I feel sick.”

Dove was amused. “You said that already.” Her features suddenly softened. “I know you don’t date, but I promise it’s not hard. You just ask questions and get to know one another.”

Alarm bells rang in her head. She wasn’t someone who opened up easily to others, and her past was to blame for it. What would she say if Nathan asked her why she chose journalism? What would she say if he asked about her family?

But she didn’t voice any of her thoughts. She took her insecurities and shoved them as deep as they would go. Instead, she wiped the fear off her face and gave her friend a tentative smile. “I felt like I was going to die when he started talking to me.”

Dove replied in earnest, recalling her first date and comparing it to her relationship with Peter. She eased her friends' nerves and convinced her to wear some makeup before Nathan arrived. And before the girl knew it, her shift was coming to an end.

“Pizza,” he had said, though the place she found herself at was fancier than she imagined. Waitresses wore short black pieces and showed enough cleavage to entice the men to give a larger tip. Tables were dressed with silverware and white napkins, and the lights were dimmed to give a romantic feel. The girl felt extremely underdressed in a plain top and a pair of boring bottoms.

“Fuck, you’re pretty.”

Nathan himself was also dressed casually, wearing a simple shirt with khaki trousers. However, Nathan was able to look good in anything, unlike the girl, who blended in with her surroundings. He received appreciative glances from most of the women around them, some of which were on their own dates, and the girl couldn’t help but think again that Nathan had made a mistake. He couldn’t possibly want to be with her.

“Thank you.” She blushed under his gaze, which seemed to burn brighter with every second that passed. “The food is amazing.”

“I know,” he replied. “That’s why I picked this place.”

The girl waited anxiously for the dreaded questions about her life, the ones that would help them to know each other better, but they never came. Nathan didn’t ask her anything of substance, and she was too nervous to initiate the conversation herself.

Instead, he threw compliments her way like they were trifle occurrences. “You look hot in that shirt.” “Your height matches mine perfectly.” “Fuck, your lips.” Mixed with a healthy amount of praise for himself. “I bench pressed a hundred fifty yesterday,” followed by a wink. “Coach said any team would be lucky to have me.” And on he went until the table cleared and the cheque was brought.

The girl insisted on splitting the bill, only slightly regretting it after she saw the price. It was a wonder why people went out all the time. Dating was expensive.

Nathan drove her to her building and walked her to the door. Two hours spent together and the girl had learned nothing about Nathan she didn’t already know. It was doubtful if he learned anything either since he kept calling her Kitty after forgetting her name twice in a row.

She stopped outside the building and turned to face him. This was where the girl thanked the boy for a nice time, wasn’t it? They would say farewell and he would pretend to have enjoyed her company. They would depart as mere acquaintances and never speak to each other again.

“Thank you for—” She paused, surprised to find Nathan standing so close to her.

He grabbed her chin and tilted her head until she could look at him properly. The girl took an impulsive step back, and Nathan followed, trapping her against the wall with an arm on each side of her head.

Nathan was standing only inches from her, and his closeness caused heat to rush to her head. He smiled and leaned down, letting his breath wash over her. This was the closest she had ever been to a boy before, and that boy being Nathan Acosta wasn’t doing her rapidly beating heart any favours.

They were breathing the same breath, lips mere inches away from each other. She could feel the heat of his body radiating through her skin, warming her, and she burned like an inferno under his gaze.

Nathan’s nose brushed hers, and she let her eyes close naturally, nervousness running through her veins like a drug. Hands grabbed her waist, pulling her flush against his body, and she sighed. Any moment now…

A voice in the back of her mind shook her out of her daze, and she realized with a sudden ruthlessness that Nathan was about to kiss her. Alarm bells rang in her ears, warning her that what she was about to do was wrong. Their kiss could lead to more, and she had read enough books and seen enough movies to know that emotions usually got involved at that stage.

That was not something she was willing to risk.

She turned just before Nathan could kiss her, and his lips awkwardly chased hers until he gave up. His eyes opened with a frown. “What happened?”

Oh. Oh no! How would she explain her feelings to him? She did not think so far ahead and was now faced with an embarrassing situation. She opted to go for a half-truth. “I—I’ve never…” the sentence was too embarrassing for her to finish.

“What? You’ve never slept with anyone before? I already know that, and I don’t care.” Nathan shrugged nonchalantly and moved in for another attempt, which the girl immediately thwarted. She pushed at his chest to bring some distance between them.

God. She felt sick to her stomach. If she were thinking clearly she would wonder how Nathan knew she’d never been with anyone before, but she wasn’t. The girl was mortified at the turn of events and was trying to keep his lips away from hers.

“No, I don’t mean—I mean I haven’t, but that’s not what I—What I meant was, I—” She took a deep breath and decided to blurt out her answer. “I haven’t kissed anyone before.”

There, the secret was out. Nathan would laugh at her and tell her to lose his number. However, what he did instead, surprised her.

Nathan frowned and said, “Okay. Why?”

His question stumped her because she wasn’t sure. There were quite a few reasons: she didn’t have the time, she didn’t have the energy. She wasn’t the sort to be able to become intimate with just anyone. And then there was the reason she ran from home. She didn’t want to drag any potential romantic partners through her dreadful past.

In the end, she decided on a simple answer. Something easy for Nathan to understand. “I’m waiting for the right person.”

And she wasn’t hopeful about her odds, though she did not tell him so.

“Okay,” he said simply.

“Okay?”

“Yeah. We don’t have to do anything tonight. It’s all good.” He leaned away from her, dropping his arms.

She was not prepared for Nathan to be so understanding. He was used to girls throwing themselves at him, but there he was with her, and she wouldn’t even kiss him.

“That’s good, I think,” Nathan said. “I actually just came out of a serious relationship.”

The girl ignored the pang in her heart.

“She cheated on me,” he said quietly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Nah,” Nathan clicked his tongue. “I’m over it. She didn’t respect me or our relationship, so I’m not gonna spend any time grovelling over her. She’s not worth it.”

“Right. Respect—respect is important.” This Nathan was a lot different than the one at the restaurant. That Nathan was shallow and condescending. His conversation was dry.

This Nathan… This Nathan was compassionate and introspective. His conversation was deep, and his thoughts were receptive. Maybe he had been nervous during the date. He was only human, and while the girl clammed up under nerves, maybe Nathan did the opposite and said things he hadn’t meant.

“I—I like to think everything happens for a reason,” the girl contributed. “You and…”

“Marilyn,” Nathan supplied.

“You and Marilyn were meant to be—for however long—no matter what. And who knows, you probably learned something meaningful from the betrayal.” She finished with a shrug, trying to dismiss her words in case Nathan felt offended.

He furrowed his brows in contemplation. “I did,” he exclaimed quietly. Then Nathan looked at the girl with such intensity that she stopped breathing momentarily. “I learned not to take anything for granted.”

Oh. Oh.

Words failed her, so she nodded.

“There’s a party tomorrow night,” Nathan said, “at Delta Kappa Epsilon. You should come.”

The day was just full of surprises, was it not? Did he want to see her again?

“I don’t go to parties,” she wanted to tell him. “I can’t give you what you want.” But instead, she said, “okay.”

“You’ll be there?” he clarified.

“Sure.”

Seemingly happy with her response, Nathan smiled brightly and laughed. “Awesome.” He winked teasingly, unironically throwing in some finger guns, and jogged to his car.

The girl stood outside the building for a few more minutes, clutching her frantically beating heart. The sun was beginning to set, which cast a soft, orange glow over the landscape. Was this what love felt like? Warm and kind, and encouraging?

Eventually, she found herself inside on the seventeenth floor. Sighing deeply, and with a dopey smile on her face, she used her access card to open the door, collapsing against it on the other side.

Her smile widened, and she bit her lip to contain her emotions. Nathan invited her to a party. That is to say, she did not particularly like parties or large crowds, and kept her distance from places that might bring any attention to her. But it was the end of the school year, and the boy she was infatuated with finally noticed her. So, no, she didn’t do parties or large crowds, but if she got Nathan to smile at her again as he did earlier, then she was willing to do almost anything.

The girl’s insecurities washed away with Nathan’s invitation because while he could have been fooling her in the privacy of the café, he would never parade her around his group of friends if he were not truly interested in her.

Nathan was intent on the Vancouver Canucks—almost as much as they were intent on him, and he planned to sign with them as a free agent a few months after graduation. This was well known throughout campus. Even the most ignorant of people had some idea of who Nathan Acosta was. So, while Nathan would travel during the season, he would spend the majority of his time in British Columbia. Long-distance relationships were not common, but those who put in the effort made it work.

The girl couldn’t help but let her thoughts run free, picturing a future where she was happy and very much in love. Nathan was by her side, and maybe she had a kid or two. A cabin in the mountains and a pet to keep her company while he was away.

Is this what happiness feels like? She loved it. She looked at her clothes. Plain and boring, much like everything else in her closet. What did one wear to a party? A dress? The girl didn’t have any.

She smiled again. Tomorrow she would buy a dress for herself and wear it to her date with Nathan. She bit her lip at the thought of seeing him again. She couldn’t wait.

Ao3│Wattpad│Ko-fi

Main Masterlist│Series Masterlist│Series Playlist

Prologue — Chapter 1 — Chapter 2

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