#still not entirely satisfied with how some parts turned out but ig that's just how it is sometimes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cinaja · 4 years

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Before the Wall part 49

Masterlist

A/N: This took forever to write again, but I just had such a hard time with some of the scenes. I hope it all turned out okay.

Tw: Mentions of torture in the scene 6 and mutiliation in the scene 7 (towards the end). Also, scene 1 is Amarantha's pov, so it's a bit messed up as usual.

----

Amarantha ordered her soldiers to have their captured enemies screaming day and night, but even the screams now ringing out over her camp day and night fail to ease her fury. Not even imagining that it is Jurian screaming helps anymore, because she knows it is not and she knows that chances of her capturing him soon are low.

She lost her most valuable hostage, her direct path towards revenge. Like some new recruit with only a handful of battles under her belt, she let herself be outsmarted by Sinna of Erithia. Fell for a stupid diversion set with some idiot commander from Prythian as bait and didn’t notice the true plan until it was already too late.

On another day, she might have admired the ruthlessness of Sinna sacrificing hundreds of her own allies to save her new Princess. On another day, she might have been excited, might have started looking for an opportunity to pit herself against the Seraphim general, see which of them is truly better. But today, she is far too angry to be thrilled at the possible challenge.

It doesn’t matter how much she has the soldiers who served as a diversion tortured. Doesn’t matter that she ordered them all killed slowly and had ash bolts spiked through the commander’s wings. All that matters is that she still hasn’t gotten her hands on Jurian.

The very thought has anger flaring through her. Restlessly, Amarantha paces through her camp, looking for something to take her mind off the man who murdered her sister. Her soldiers, sensing her anger, shrink away from under har gaze.

A day spent on the march didn’t serve to improve her mood. But losing Miryam forced her to abandon her position at the Heseia Fort. Now that she doesn’t have a hostage, Jurian would never be stupid enough to attack her at such a secure position. So she had to give up some advantages, make Jurian think he has a chance to push him into attacking. And once he does, she will crush him.

Only she still needs a plan for that. She doesn’t doubt her army’s ability to take on that ragtag group of humans Jurian leads and win, but she can’t take any chances. Not when Jurian has proven more than once that he is clever, and surprisingly resilient for a human. If Amarantha wants to be entirely sure that she will defeat him, she will need some tricks up her sleeve.

“You,” she snaps at the nearest soldier, impatiently waving him over. “I’ll be gone for the next hour. Tell Lexo he’ll head the camp in my absence.”

Without waiting for a reply, she winnows away. She lands in the courtyard outside of the royal palace in Hybern. Distantly, the sound of waves crashing against the cliffs is audible, a seagull screams above.

Without pausing to look around, Amarantha stalks off towards the palace. People move aside to make space for her as she walks past. The slaves especially tremble and shrink away from her, knowing fully well that it is best not to cross Amarantha when she is this angry. On another day, Amarantha might have stopped to have her fun with one or two of them, but today, her goal is a different one.

The guards standing in front of the throne room step forward as she approaches, as if to intercept her. Amarantha doesn’t stop and at the last moment, they seem to think the better of it and jump aside. Amarantha pushes open the high doors leading into the throne room and stalks in.

With her arrival, the room falls silent. The courtiers standing throughout the room pause their chattering and stare at her, then quickly avert their eyes. On the throne, the King turns his dark eyes to her. He watches her for a moment, as if considering.

“Everybody out,” he orders without tearing his gaze away from Amarantha.

The courtiers follow the order hastily, shuffling past Amarantha out of the door as she slowly walks towards the throne. Ten feet away from it, she stops and bows.

“Your Majesty,” she says and offers him a small smile as she straightens again.

“So you deign to answer my summons at last,” the king says. There is anger in his voice, and only now does Amarantha remember that he did send her letters over the past few days. Letters she threw into the fire unopened.

“I apologize,” she says smoothly. “I was preoccupied.”

“So I heard,” he replies. “Ravenia is furious with you for refusing to hand Miryam over, and then allowing her to be freed. She demands your head.”

“What do I care about Ravenia of the Black Land?” Amarantha asks. “A woman who can’t even win a war against one of her runaway slaves has no business telling me what to do.”

“The Black Land is our most important trading partner,” the king hisses, “and you aggravate its ruler with your impertinence.”

He can truly be short-sighted, that king of hers. Does he ever look beyond what’s right in front of him? “The Black Land is done for,” Amarantha says. “It won’t recover from this, and indulging Ravenia’s wishes would have been folly. If we play this smart, though, we might be the ones who gain the power Ravenia won’t be able to hold after the way she embarrassed herself in this war.”

In truth, Amarantha doesn’t care about power, and she doesn’t believe that Hybern will ever become the new Black Land. They simply aren’t powerful enough to actually carve out a position for themselves on the Continent. No, all they’ll ever be is a country of mediocre importance, nothing more. But Amarantha doesn’t care about that, anyways, as long as she gets Jurian’s head.

Her gaze travels to the throne her king is sitting on. It is made from human bones, brown and withered with age. A charming idea, she thinks. Maybe she will make herself something from Jurian’s bones, too, after she killed him. A crown, perhaps, or a collier. Certainly something she will be able to carry around with her, so that she might always look at it and remember her victory.

“My defeating Jurian,” she says, “will benefit us far more than playing nice with some doomed queen.”

The king leans forward ever so slightly. Amarantha can see it in his eyes – he wants the power he is talking of. “Alright, then,” he says slowly. “Tell me what it is you have come here to say.”

Amarantha’s smile broadens. Of course he knows that she only came to ask him a favour. She wonders, sometimes, if he also knows that she doesn’t care at all about his orders and only plays along with his game for the power the position in his court gives her. Perhaps he does. But she is his best general, and he needs her as much as she needs him.

“I can, of course, easily defeat Jurian on my own,” she says. “But I thought it might suit your interests if I made it impressive.”

His eyes narrow. “And for that,” he says, “you need my spellbook.”

Amarantha nods ever so slightly. He allowed her to use the book once before already, during another war a century ago. But witchers are careful with who they allow access to their knowledge. Hoping that he will give it to her now is a gamble, but one she needs to take. Even without being able to use third grade spells, the book’s spells will open possibilities. And she needs those for more than just the battle.

“I would just need to look through it once,” she says.

For what feels like an eternity, the King is silent. Then, he slowly rises from his throne. “Alright, then,” he says. “But be warned, General: If you ever disregard my orders again, I’ll see to it that you regret it.”

----

Jurian has grown tired of waiting.

It’s been almost a week now since he killed Clythia, yet Amarantha hasn’t shown her face around his camp yet. On the contrary, she seems content to do anything but deal with him. From the reports he receives, she seems entirely focused on the war effort, capturing Miryam to get Drakon to give up an important strategic location, then capturing Rhysand and his army. If Jurian didn’t know better, he would think that she doesn’t care at all about him murdering her sister.

With each passing day, he grows more restless. Killing Clythia, especially the way he did it, was meant to put an end to that horrible game of cat-and-mouse him and Amarantha were playing, but if it doesn’t…

Jurian can’t wait anymore. With every day that Amarantha still lives, he feels whatever composure he has left cracking further. He doesn’t know for how much longer he will be able to hold it together, so he has to act now, even if being the one to attack will cost him some advantages.

At least Amarantha left her position at the Heseia Fort. Jurian isn’t sure why, and giving up such an important strategic location seems stupid, but he will take whatever advantage he can get. All that really matters is that Amarantha no longer holds Miryam prisoner, which means that he can attack without having to worry about her.

But at the same time, the situation with Miryam is the one thing that makes him hesitate. He desperately wants to talk to her before he goes to face Amarantha. They said they would talk, before she got captured. Jurian still needs to explain what he did to Clythia, before she gets a wrong impression of why he did what he did. And there was something she wanted to tell him, too, but he didn’t listen to her. Maybe they should have talked then, instead of waiting.

Unfortunately, Miryam is still unconscious. Jurian supposes he could visit, but that would require seeing Drakon, and that’s something Jurian doesn’t feel like doing at all. (He doesn’t understand why they brought Miryam to the Callian Pass, anyways. They should have taken her to Telique.) If he wants to talk to Miryam before killing Amarantha, he’ll have to wait for her to wake up, and he can’t stand to wait any longer. Besides, it’s probably easier if he kills Amarantha first and then talks to Miryam. Having Amarantha’s death to show for will make it far easier to explain why killing Clythia the way he did was necessary.

So Jurian comes up with a sensible strategy. He gets his maps for the area where Amarantha’s army is usually stationed and sits down with his captains to discuss. All of them get strict orders not to tell anyone about their plans, since he is sure Andromache would stop him if she knew.

Five days after Miryam got freed, Jurian is ready. The only thing he still hasn’t figured out is how to get Andromache out of the camp so that he can take his army and go without her interfering, but as it happens, fate is on his side. In the early afternoon of the fifth day, Andromache gets called away to an Alliance meeting, leaving him as the one in charge of the camp.

Jurian allows himself a moment to contemplates whether or not to take Andromache’s soldiers along with him. He could use the additional support, but in the end, he decides against it. Stealing Andromache’s soldiers away from under her nose would be bad form, and her captains would only raise a fuss should they realize that their queen didn’t agree to this sudden change of plans. No, if Jurian wants to go after Amarantha, he’ll have to do so with his own army.

His soldiers, fortunately, are well trained, and in spite of some of his past mistakes, they still trust him blindly. It takes only a few quiet words to his captains and they are off, readying his army for the march. Unfortunately for him, Andromache’s captains are far less willing to simply accept his word.

“And you received your orders from the council?” One of them, a woman named Demetra but whom everyone calls Dem, asks. She doesn’t even bother to hide her doubt.

“Are you accusing me of lying?” Jurian asks pointedly. Sometimes, to attack is the best defence strategy.

“No, General,” Dem says. She scrunches up her nose slightly. “I still need to know if the council ordered this, though.”

“I am a member of the council, and I am ordering this right now.” Jurian says. “And you really don’t have the rank necessary to stop me.”

That’s the funny thing about being on the council: No one can really forbid him from doing things. Even Andromache, in spite of being a queen, has the same rank as him and cannot technically tell him what to do. He reckons Miryam could – or would find some other way to stop him from going after Amarantha – but she isn’t around to do so.

Dem watches him for a moment, brow furrowed. She isn’t easily cowed, neither by his rank nor his reputation, and on another day, Jurian would admire that. Today, though, it’s rather inconvenient, so he is glad when she finally inclines her head.

“Then I won’t keep you,” she says.

“Good,” he says. “I want you to stay here until your Queen returns. She will give you your next orders.” He just hopes those won’t be to chase after Jurian and drag him back.

----

“Shit,” Andromache mutters, letting herself drop onto the cushions in Nakia’s suite. “What a complete and utter mess.”

After three hours stuck in a council meeting, trying desperately to appease the other members and spending each moment hoping that Miryam would be back soon, she finally returned to her camp to find Jurian and his army gone. She had just readied her army to chase after him – either to drag him back or to help him – when she received a directive from the council that her army was to hold positions under all circumstances.

The message didn’t specify why, but it sounded serious enough that Andromache could not risk to disobey. After eight hours of sitting on her ass in the camp, not an enemy to be seen, she finally had Yanis winnow her over to Telique to find out what it was all about, only to hear that the entire message had been caused by some administrative error. Naturally, Jurian’s army was far beyond her reach by that time.

“It’s almost like those bastards did it on purpose,” Nakia grumbles.

Andromache is inclined to agree, but instead says, “Still, please be nice when we meet with Zeku.” She hates having to urge for diplomacy when being diplomatic towards these people who do nothing but make her life more difficult is the last thing she wants right now. How does Miryam manage to do that without hitting someone? “If we want to reach Jurian in time, we’ll need Alliance support.”

Annoying as it is, but without the Fae, they’ll never catch up with Jurian before he attacks Amarantha. Human armies simply aren’t fast enough to reach him in time, so they will need the council to dispatch a Fae army. For which they will need Zeku’s support.

Normally, that would be easily arranged. Zeku is, after all, one of their closest Fae allies, which generally includes mutual support. But lately, he hasn’t exactly been accommodating to his allies’ requests and Andromache doesn’t know why. Six years of working together almost seamlessly, but now, Zeku seems to have decided to be just as difficult as most of his kind.

As if on cue, a knock sounds at the door. A moment later, Zeku enters.

He inclines his head. “Your Majesties,” he says.

“Your Grace,” Andromache replies, inclining her head as well.

“Have you heard anything from Princess Miryam yet?” Zeku asks, gracefully sitting down on the couch opposite them.

Hearing Miryam referred to as Princess is still strange, but Andromache will probably have to get used to it. “There has been no news,” she says. “Anyways, it is not Miryam but Jurian we asked you here to discuss. I assume you already heard?”

Zeku nods. “I have. And what is it you want me to do about this?”

“Get us an army,” Nakia says, which really isn’t the pinnacle of diplomacy. But considering how the Fae, Zeku included, have been acting lately, it’s probably better than he deserves.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” Zeku replies. Nakia looks positively murderous at that, and he quickly amends, “I am truly sorry, but I couldn’t convince the other Fae to send aid to Jurian if I tried.”

“And why is that?” Andromache asks, trying desperately to contain her rising temper. Seriously, how does Miryam do this? In her place, Andromache would probably have committed murder more than once already.

Zeku sighs. “I understand that you humans care a lot about solidarity and loyalty, and it is something I admire about. Still, you will have to understand that many people will rightfully have a hard time understanding why they should risk their lives to get him out of a mess of his own making.”

“Because we are allies?” Andromache suggests.

“Well, there are more and more people in this Alliance who consider whether they still want to be allied with Jurian,” Zeku says. “There has already been talk of having him removed from the council, and the only reason the issue hasn’t been pushed yet is the human side’s continued support for him.” He sighs. “In all honesty, I have long since been having doubt about General Jurian’s ability to lead, and I only kept them to myself out of courtesy to Miryam. But I simply cannot warrant putting my name down for him any more than I am already doing.”

Andromache crosses her arms. Nakia scowls.

“It would be political suicide,” Zeku adds with a rueful smile. “I’m sorry.”

----

“Alright,” Jurian says, standing in a hastily-erected tent an hour away from Amarantha’s camp. “Here’s the plan.”

His captains, standing around the camp, look back at him expectantly. After more than a day spent on the march, they all seem worn out, but there is a light in their eyes like they, too, can’t wait to finally end this. Jurian likes to imagine that they sense the importance of killing Amarantha, that they are driven by the same frantic energy that keeps him from feeling any tiredness.

“Amarantha likely knows we’re coming,” he says. Her spies must have reported to her the moment their army left its camp, and Jurian didn’t have the magical means to cover their march. “Still, I would like to have gain some advantages for the attack, so we split our army up.”

He points to the map that lies on a makeshift table between them. Amarantha’s camp is marked, as well as all the information their scouts could gather. Amarantha made camp by the spring of a small river at the side of a hill. The position is good, but not all that strong, its biggest advantage lying in the fact that any enemies will have to attack from below, leaving her soldiers the high ground.

“Xeni, you take half my army and stage an attack from the front,” Jurian says. “You do not need to engage in battle, just make enough noise that Amarantha thinks you are the main attack. Meanwhile, I will take the main part of the army around the hill, and then, we will attack Amarantha’s forces from behind. That way, we’ll force Amarantha’s army to fight on to fronts, and we’ll gain the high ground.”

Xeni nods, surveying the map. “Amarantha will notice if my part of the army is smaller, though.”

She’s a good soldier – smart. Jurian would have made her his second months ago already, but he could never quite bear to give Tia’s position to another. Maybe after the battle is over, he will finally do it.

“The trees will provide cover,” he says. “Ideally, Amarantha won’t be able to get a solid count of our numbers during the battle, and my part of the army will only start moving once yours attacked and Amarantha is distracted.”

That means there will be a dangerous moment where Xeni’s army is forced to hold Amarantha off on her own. It’s a risk, but it will likely take a while for the battle to truly get heated, and by then, Jurian’s army should be there to provide reinforcements.

The battle will without doubt end in a duel between him and Amarantha. This will be the fight that decides the outcome of the battle, Jurian is sure of it. And he is equally sure that he will win. Amarantha will be driven by fury, and angry people tend to make mistakes. Jurian will use that. The only thing that might become a problem is that she has magic – however little it might be – and he does not. But Jurian picked up a few small tricks from Miryam over the years, and he wove spells into his armour that should be able to ward off most attacks.

It will work. It has to work.

----

Drakon genuinely hates the Callian Pass.

Everyone always talks about how hard it is to take it, but no one ever mentioned to Drakon that once you have taken it, it is near-impossible to get away from it again. Jurian is facing Amarantha in battle, he might be dying right now, and he is stuck in this cursed castle, unable to do anything. Miryam is still unconscious, and while the healers assure him that she will be fine, they aren’t entirely sure when she will wake up. (Apparently, there is some difficulty with estimating how quickly her body heals, given that she is neither fully Fae nor human, and half Fae healing abilities might fall anywhere in between.)

Drakon feels stuck in some never-ending nightmare where the people he cares about are always facing some kind of danger, and he is stuck here, unable to help. To make matters worse, Artax now has his soldiers probing the walls day and night. They still haven’t attacked outright, but they certainly have a knack for making everything more stressful.

Right now, Artax just finished his sixth pseudo-attack on the castle for the day. Drakon is standing on the battlement, flanked by Sinna and Helion, and looks down at the retreating soldiers below.

“What is he playing at?” Drakon asks. “Why won’t he just attack, put an end to this?”

“Because he is smart,” Sinna says. “He is trying to wear us out, make us expend our resources and keep us on our toes so that when he finally attacks in earnest, his own casualties will be lower.”

“That’s stupid, though,” Drakon says. “He only has the advantage as long as Miryam is out of the game.”

“I doubt the possibility of a human woman ever being a danger to him so much as crossed Artax’s mind,” Helion says, smiling slightly. His smile fades, though, as his attention returns to the enemy army. “And much as I admire Miryam’s abilities, I honestly cannot say his assessment is wrong. I doubt she would stand much of a chance against him.”

Drakon looks down at the army camping below, at the red flags flying in the wind. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” he says quietly.

Artax is, without doubt, the most skilled witcher of their age. He has centuries of practice on Miryam. But Drakon has seen the way she looked at him during their last meeting, eyes burning with so much hatred that they seemed to glow from within. Drakon may not know what Artax did to her, but he knows that Miryam hates him just as much as Ravenia.

So far, they never faced each other in battle. Should it ever come to that, they might just rip apart the world between them. But in the end, Drakon doesn’t think that Artax will walk away triumphant. Or walk away at all, for that matter.

“Let’s hope you’re right,” Helion says. “Because I certainly can’t take on Artax, and I don’t know anyone else on our side who can.” He pushes off the stone railing he was leaning against and inclines his head to Drakon. “I’ll go inspect the wards again,” he says, winks at Sinna and walks off.

Sinna rolls her eyes at his retreating form. It’s not that her and Helion don’t get along – as far as Drakon knows, they work together quite well – but they are simply very different people with very different styles and preferences. Helion realizes early on that it is very easy for him to get on Sinna’s nerves, and he seems to enjoy occasionally poking fun at her. Drakon finds the entire matter amusing, and he suspects Helion does, too.

Down below, the retreating soldiers have now reached their camp again. Drakon leans against the stone balustrade and stares down, but his mind is on a different battlefield, a different army. He hates that Jurian is facing Amarantha without either him or Miryam around to help him. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Jurian’s abilities, but lately, he has been reckless in his decisions, especially when it comes to Amarantha.

“You’re worried,” Sinna says. “About Jurian?”

Drakon nods. “I feel like I should be doing something to help him. It isn’t right that he has to fight Amarantha on his own.”

“You want my opinion?” Sinna asks.

Drakon hesitates, then gives her a half-smile. “Actually, probably not,” he says.

Sinna has the tendency to be honest about things, and in this specific case, Drakon doubts her honestly would be particularly pleasant to hear. After all, Sinna told him over a year ago already to press for Jurian’s removal from the council and the war, likely to avoid precisely this outcome. Besides, she doesn’t like Jurian, which is likely to make her judgement of his actions rather harsh.

“Probably smart,” Sinna says.

Drakon is almost tempted to ask her for some reassurance, but in the current situation, that would basically come down to asking her to lie to him. Which is something he definitely does not want. Besides, reassurances are never quite as convincing if you have to ask for them.

----

Rhys doesn’t know how long it has been since he got captured. Days, weeks, months. It all blurs together. All he knows is that he’s in pain, so much pain that he can’t even think straight. The constant screaming of his dying soldiers rings through the camp, piercing his head like knifes.

He can’t take it anymore. All he wants is for it to end. But there is no end. The soldiers who are torturing don’t even ask questions, so there’s nothing he can do, nothing he can says, to make them stop. If there was anything they were asking, he knows he would have given it by now, if only to buy himself a moment of peace.

There’s only one thought that ever manages to pierce the haze of pain in his mind, and that is the thought of revenge. He will kill Amarantha for this. Kill her for what her soldiers are doing to his, to him, and for the fact that she doesn’t even seem to care. He will kill her. And if it’s the last thing he does.

They tied him up between two trees and spiked ash bolts through his wings. He’ll have to tear them free if he wants to fight, destroy his wings in the process, but that doesn’t matter. If he does manage to kill Amarantha, he will be killed soon afterwards, anyways.

As long as he just manages to take her with him, it won’t matter.

Still, he hesitates. Again and again, he tries to summon the courage to tear his wings free from the spikes, but his muscles refuse to obey his commands. He can’t. He loves his wings, loves the sky, and he can’t bring himself to destroy this.

And then, suddenly, it is too late. A horn blast rings out, followed by a second one, then a third, louder than the screams. Slowly, painfully, Rhys looks up.

From where he is chained up, he has a clear view over the camp, so he can easily see the army that is stepping out of the forest in the valley below and approaching.

Distantly, Rhys is aware that he should be glad. If Jurian and his army has arrived, if they are going to defeat Amarantha, he will be saved. But all he can think is they are stealing my revenge.

----

Sneaking through the forest with a thousand soldiers in tow is precisely as challenging as it sounds. It is made harder by the fact that there are magical traps and wards throughout the entire forest, and they keep having to stop and wait for the few Fae or humans with distant Fae ancestry in their group to disable them. They do their best to hurry, but they can’t risk setting off an alarm, so they are still slower than Jurian would like.

It takes them precisely fifteen minutes to walk around the hill and another five to climb up again on the other side. It isn’t much, but still, Jurian’s stomach clenches with worry with every moment they waste. With only half of his army, Xeni won’t stand a chance against Amarantha. They need to hurry.

Finally, they make it to the top of the hill. Jurian holds up a hand, commanding his army to stop, and steps forward until the edge of the forest. From there, he gets a good view of Amarantha’s camp lying a bit below, and the battle that’s raging at its edge.

Jurian can make out Amarantha amongst her soldiers. Her red hair is like a flag in the slight wind, clearly marking her where she stands, dressed in dark armour, at the centre of her troops.

Further down, he can see Xeni’s part of his army. They keep their position at the edge of the forest like he told them to. Jurian is about to give the order for attack to his army when Amarantha suddenly turns around towards him. Jurian freezes, sure that she has seen him, but Amarantha merely surveys the trees they are hiding in for a moment before turning back to the attacking army. Jurian could have sworn she smiles before she does, though.

A shiver runs down his spine. His gut tells him that something is wrong. It is too late to go back, though, and anyways, Jurian didn’t come this far only to turn back at a mere feeling.

He turns around to the soldiers waiting behind him. He opens his mouth to order the attack, but before he gets a word out, a slight tremor runs through the ground below. Jurian spins back around to the battle. His eyes immediately find Amarantha, who has raised her hands high above her head and appears to be chanting something.

Another tremor runs through the ground. But that isn’t possible. Amarantha isn’t a witch, and none of Jurian’s reports on her hinted at her having any affinity for spells. Her king is a witcher, but Amarantha, as far as he knows, rarely ever relies on magic in battle. Still, she is clearly casting a spell now. Jurian takes a step forward, as if he’ll be able to stop whatever she is doing.

Just below Amarantha’s camp, the ground bursts open. Behind Jurian, someone gasps, and he takes another step forward. But there’s nothing he can do as a fountain of water shoots out of the ground. Drops glitter in the moonlight, and for a moment, it almost looks pretty.

Then, the water goes crashing down into the valley in a giant flood wave.

Jurian is distantly aware that he screams something, but the sound is drowned out by the roaring of the water. The wave is high enough that he can’t even make out the tips of the trees anymore.

“No,” Jurian whispers. He can’t believe what he is seeing. There’s no way Amarantha just summoned a flood wave from nothing, there’s no way she… “No, please.”

His fingers begin to tremble. Below, the water recedes slowly, rushing further down into the valley. In its wake, it leaves trees torn from the ground, bent over and broken. There is no sign left of the army that was standing there until a moment ago. Jurian’s entire body is shaking now.

Amarantha turns back around, and this time, Jurian is sure that she smiles at him. He realizes that he is no longer hidden behind the trees, that he is standing in plain sight, but he can’t bring himself to care.

No. No, this can’t be real. His soldiers are fine, they will be fine. They didn’t… Half his army. He can’t have lost half his army in under a minute. It simply isn’t possible. And yet, his soldiers are gone, and he knows, deep down, that they won’t have survived this.

With shaking hands, Jurian reaches for his sword. As soon as his fingers close around the hilt, his mind stills. His senses seem to sharpen, and his focus zeroes in on Amarantha. Slowly, he draws his sword.

“Attack!” He shouts, raising his sword into the air.

Around Jurian, the battle rages. He is only distantly aware that his side is losing, that they are sorely outnumbered and don’t stand a chance. In his mind, he still sees the wave rushing down into the valley. He lost half his army in under a minute.

Amarantha. He needs to find her, needs to kill her. As soon as she is gone, it will… it will all be fine, then. He knows it will be. But the battle is so chaotic, and he has no idea how to find her. He simply keeps fighting, killing his way through the enemy soldiers, hoping he will find her somehow.

In the end, he isn’t sure if he finds Amarantha or if she finds him. But suddenly, they are standing mere feet away from each other on the battlefield. Around them, their soldiers part, as if to make space for them. Jurian barely notices. All he can see is Amarantha, standing there, mere feet away from him.

He thinks of his soldiers, mutilated beyond recognition and left for him to find. Of the flood wave crashing down into the valley and killing half of his army. Of all the pain and guilt and suffering, all caused by Amarantha. It will end today. He will end it all, here and now.

“I’m going to kill you,” he says very softly, not caring if she hears him or not.

A smile twists Amarantha’s mouth. “You are welcome to try,” she replies.

They both attack at the same time. Blades flashing in the air, they circle each other, jump forward and back as if caught in some twisted form of a dance. Amarantha is faster and stronger, but Jurian knew that in advance. She is also undoubtedly good, her technique nearly flawless, but like he estimated, she fights angry instead of smart.

Anger seems to dictate her every movement. She puts too much force behind her blows, and takes nearly every opening Jurian gives. She’s like a wild animal, eager for his blood, and it makes her reckless.

In the end, it is him who lands the first blow, a slice across Amarantha’s shoulder. She snarly at him for it, as if she is truly more animal than person, and Jurian grins.

Amarantha raises her hand and sends a flare of dark power shooting towards him. Jurian dodges, but not fast enough to avoid the entirety of the blast. The fringes still hit – and bounce off harmlessly at the ward that jumps to life around Jurian. His entire body seems to vibrate under the power, but the ward holds.

“Learned some tricks from that witch-friend of yours?” Amarantha hisses. “Maybe she should have taught you how to counter my flood spell.” She laughs. “But wait. You’re human – you couldn’t have.”

Jurian charges. This time, he is the one whose attacks are fuelled by anger, and he forces Amarantha back a few steps. The laugh vanishes from her face as Jurian’s blade slices through her armour and into her arm.

In answer, she sends another wave of power shooting towards him. His wards crack under the assault, and he can almost feel them splinter. Amarantha might not have much magical power to call her own, but it is more than Jurian can counter with the few tricks Miryam showed him. Under her next attack, his wards shatter entirely and he gets thrown to the ground. He only barely manages to roll aside in time to avoid Amarantha’s sword shooting for his head, and jumps back to his feet.

“Are you so pathetic a fighter that you need magic to defeat me?” He shouts at her.

“I’d defeat you even unarmed,” Amarantha snarls back at him.

“Go ahead, then.” Jurian laughs. “Drop your sword.”

She doesn’t, of course, but she doesn’t use her magic again, either. For a moment, they simply circle each other. Jurian looks at Amarantha and sees his own anger reflected on her face. She loses her patience first and charges. Jurian manages a slice to her cheek, although she moves aside quickly enough to keep it shallow.

But to his dismay, Jurian notices that he is beginning to tire. Amarantha is faster, stronger, and with each moment the fight lasts, he is finding it harder and harder to keep up. He needs to end this before he becomes too exhausted to keep fighting, but while she makes more mistakes than he does, she doesn’t give him to opening he would need to win.

They break apart again. Circle each other before attacking once more. This time, Jurian is a bit too slow in his reactions, and she manages a cut to Jurian’s side. Her sword slices through his armour and bites into the flesh below. He barely feels the pain, but the blow still makes him stumble.

Amarantha is already moving again, so quickly Jurian can barely follow. She brings her blade down in an arc, metal glinting in the moonlight. Jurian jerks his own sword down in an attempt to counter the blow, the movement far too sloppy. He only barely catches the blow, and with his sword’s hilt instead of the blade. It isn’t a clean parry, and Amarantha’s blade slices his leg as she swings it around.

Jurian changes his grip on his sword to meet her next attack, but the hilt is suddenly slick in his grip and the sword almost slips out of his fingers. He looks down and finds his hand drenched in blood. It is running all over his sword’s grip, dripping down the blade. So much blood… Jurian blinks down at his hand, suddenly dizzy. It looks wrong, under all that blood. Almost like…

Jurian stares and stares at his hand. The hand that is now missing three fingers. His index finger is gone entirely, and from there, the slice goes diagonally over his hand, severing most of his middle and ring finger. Then, as if it had been waiting for him to realize what had happened, the pain hits. Jurian gasps, tears making his vision go blurry.

A movement at the corner of his eye catches his attention. At the last moment, he jumps back, only narrowly avoiding being beheaded by Amarantha’s blow. He nearly drops his sword in the process, though.

Amarantha bares her teeth in what might have been a smile. “Already done?” She taunts.

Jurian grits his teeth and changes his sword hand, doing his best to ignore the pain, and the blood still gushing from where his fingers used to be. The sword must have gotten heavier in the last moments, though, because he can only barely lift it.

“Not yet,” he manages through gritted teeth.

But he is done. He feels it with every blow he manages to execute only sloppily, with every too-slow reaction. His body is trembling and he can only barely hold onto his sword. He does not land a single hit, and with each moment, his vision swims more and more. As Amarantha continues to attack, he has to yield step after step.

Amarantha smiles at him. “Oh, I think you are done,” she says.

The force of her next blow knocks Jurian’s sword straight out of his hand. He stumbles back, loses his balance and falls to the ground. The impact knocks the air straight out of his lungs and for a moment, Jurian simply blinks up at the dark sky above, unable to so much as move.

Amarantha’s face appears above him. She still has her sword, and its tip is now hovering only an inch away from his throat.

No, Jurian thinks, this is all wrong. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. But he can’t even summon the strength to move. His mind is moving too slowly, he has a hard time holding on to individual thoughts. He is strangely cold, and everything hurts. Maybe he will die from blood loss before Amarantha manages to kill him.

Slowly, he tears his gaze away from Amarantha and towards her sword, its blade painted red with his blood. If he is going to die, her face isn’t going to be the last thing he sees. His thoughts drift to Miryam. He should have waited to speak to her before rushing off to face Amarantha. Now, he won’t get the chance. And his soldiers… he led them to their deaths, all of them, and then, he didn’t even get the chance to avenge them. When it came down to it, he failed. He failed all of them.

His vision blurs further, but still, he keeps his eyes trained on the sword, waiting for the blow to come. What is she waiting for?

“I won’t kill you,” Amarantha says.

Jurian refuses to look at her, won’t give her that satisfaction. He keeps his eyes trained on her sword, still waiting for it to fall in spite of what she said.

“No,” Amarantha says softly, almost gently and moves her sword up towards his face. “I won’t make it that easy for you.”

The sword comes down and Jurian screams.

----

Jurian faced Amarantha in battle and lost. Most of his soldiers were killed, he himself captured.

The news arrived two hours ago, brought by one of Grand Duke Zeku’s spies, and the Alliance has been in an uproar ever since. It is almost worse than when Miryam got captured, although this time around, most people seem more concerned with the lost battle than the fact that a member of their council got captured by the enemy. In fact, most of the Fae don’t seem to care about Jurian’s fate at all. At least that’s the impression Andromache got after listening to the council’s endless arguments for the better part of an hour.

Only a week without Miryam around to deal with the council, and she already feels like she is slowly losing her mind. With every passing day, she hates the council more and more. Their endless quarrelling, the needless arguments, the fact that they never ever do what it takes without at least an hour of arguing in advance.

But what annoys her the most is the lack of loyalty, of principle. Andromache is human, and if there is one thing she learned, it’s that you always stick together. You have each other’s back. Most of her Fae allies seem more inclined to put a knife in her back the moment she lets her guard down, though, and loyalty seems to be a foreign concept to them as they prove again and again.

“Amarantha is no longer at the Heseia Pass,” she says slowly, trying hard not to let the annoyance creep into her voice. “An attack could be executed with little risk, especially with Amarantha so focused on Jurian that she likely doesn’t pay attention to anything else.”

She tries very hard not to think about what Amarantha’s focus likely looks like. She has seen what Hybern does to their prisoners, and Amarantha will likely think up something especially gruesome for Jurian. Andromache needs to get him out somehow, but the council is blocking her at every turn.

“How many times do you wish to go over this, Your Majesty?” Shey asks. He actually has the nerve to sound like she is the one who’s being difficult. “We do not risk lives unnecessarily to free captured commanders.”

And this is exactly Andromache’s problem. These are their allies they are talking about. It is their duty to do everything in their power to free them, and even though Andromache isn’t in favour of sacrificing many lives for one, this is hardly the case here.

“It isn’t just about Jurian,” she says. “It’s also about all the soldiers that got captured with him, and about the Night Court soldiers.” She hesitates. “Rhysand,” she adds, because it is entirely possible that the Fae will care more about one of their own than about a human and because she knows Mor cares. “And about the chance to win a big victory against Hybern. Why are you so opposed to this?”

She looks around the table, desperately searching for support. But the only Fae who seems to be on her side is Drakon, who winnowed over from the Callian Pass specifically for this meeting. (Unfortunately, he didn’t bring Miryam along, which would have made things easier for everyone involved.)

“We simply cannot spare the troops right now,” Shey says. Complete and utter bullshit, of course. The war is going well enough for them that they would have the troops to spare, and easily.

Andromache shoots a helpless look at Drakon. He just lifts his shoulders slightly and turns to Zeku with a pleading look on his face. The Grand Duke ignores him, as he ignores most of their problems lately. Andromache will need to have a word with him. Or better yet, she will ask Miryam to have a word with him once she returns, since she will probably be more diplomatic about it.

Andromache considers calling for a vote, but what use would it be? She already knows the outcome. She probably shouldn’t have hoped. If their allies weren’t willing to save Miryam, odds of them moving a finger for Jurian, whom most of them don’t even like, were slim at best. Still, Andromache had hoped… But she should have known better.

Abruptly, she rises to her feet. “If you insist,” she says, and now, her voice is sharp. “I certainly won’t forget your generosity.”

With that, she stalks out of the room. She only barely manages to keep from slamming the door.

By the time she reached her room, she at least managed to calm herself down far enough that she can offer the guards a smile. Inside, Mor is waiting sprawled on the couch in the drawing room. When Andromache enters, she straightens.

“Anything?” She asks. Andromache knows that her concern is probably more about Rhysand than Jurian, but that’s only fair, since Andromache is certainly more concerned about Jurian than about Rhysand.

“No,” Andromache says, letting herself drop to the couch next to Mor. “Fuck each and every one of these bastards.”

Andromache’s calling, she decides, does not lie in diplomacy. She thought she was good at it, and before this war began, she never had any trouble, but these days, she feels more like screaming at Shey with every passing moment.

“Shit,” Mor says and buries her face in her hands.

She worries about Rhysand, enough that she barely sleeps anymore. Andromache cannot claim to care a whole lot about the heir to the Night Court, but she cares about Mor, so she keeps reminding herself to also care about Rhysand.

“We’ll figure something out,” she says and puts an arm around Mor’s shoulders. “Rhysand is still alive, I’m sure he will be fine.” Even though he’s currently being tortured, as both of them know. It makes her reassurances far less convincing.

Andromache’s thoughts drift back to Jurian. The report they received said nothing of what state he is in, only that he’s alive. Andromache privately thinks that it might have been better for him if he hadn’t survived the battle. Now, he will still die, but Amarantha will likely find a way to make it slow and painful. And Andromache won’t be able to stop it. They got lucky with Miryam, but Andromache isn’t stupid enough to believe anything like this will happen again. Not when Amarantha has likely been planning Jurian’s death without pause for weeks.

A knock sounds at the door and one of her guards pokes his head in. “Your Majesty?” He asks. “Prince Drakon is waiting outside, he wants to speak to you.”

“Sure, let him in,” Andromache says.

Drakon enters a moment later. Both his feathers and hair are slightly ruffled and he looks about as tired as Andromache feels.

“Hello Only Fae Council Member I Can Currently Stand,” she says. “Could you pass me the wine from the cupboard?”

“Sure,” Drakon says. He walks over to the cupboard and searches around a bit before fishing out a bottle of wine. “I can’t find glasses,” he says.

“Doesn’t matter,” Andromache says.

Drakon sits down on an armchair opposite them and hands the bottle to Andromache. She takes a swig, then passes it to Mor. They end up passing the bottle around, although that strategy is hardly very effective since neither Mor nor Drakon can actually get drunk on human drinks. Andromache for her part could theoretically get drunk, but she takes care not to drink too much. There might be developments at any moment, and she needs to keep a clear head.

“I keep feeling like we should have done something,” Drakon mutters. “I mean, we all saw this coming, we should have…” He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“We should have taken away his command position,” Andromache says. “Months ago already.”

Drakon wraps his wings around himself like some kind of blanket. Andromache wonders if it’s as comforting as being hugged. If it is, she finds it extremely unfair that she doesn’t have wings – she could certainly use a hug right now. As if sensing her feelings, Mor moves closer to her and wraps an arm around her. Andromache leans into the embrace, immediately feeling better.

“I tried to talk to Zeku after the meeting,” Drakon says. He sounds miserable. “But he wouldn’t listen to me.”

“He doesn’t listen to me either,” Andromache says. “You wouldn’t by chance have any news regarding Miryam?”

Drakon shakes his head. “Still unconscious.”

“Damn,” Andromache mutters. Miryam might have been able to somehow turn this around. And if she would have had to cleave the world apart to do so, she would have found a way to save Jurian. Andromache rubs her hands over her face, sighing. “One army. We’d only need one army and we could free them.”

One army capable of travelling more swiftly than humans are able to, unfortunately. Andromache could take her own army and go – considered doing just that more than once already – but Amarantha’s spies would see them coming from miles off, and any chance they might have had of freeing the prisoners would vanish. Even if Andromache should win, chances are Amarantha would kill Jurian and Rhysand before she allowed them to be freed.

“I have an army,” Drakon says, “but…” He shrugs helplessly.

“You can’t, I know,” Andromache says. “There’s nothing any of us can do. We’ll just have to wait.”

----

A/N: This chapter was originally meant to go longer, but I had to split it up for pacing reasons (and also because of the length). This means that the next chapter is already mostly written, though, so I should have it done within a few days.

Tags: @croissantcitysucks @femtopulsed

#writing this was PAIN #😭#still not entirely satisfied with how some parts turned out but ig that's just how it is sometimes #before the wall #miryam #jurian #drakon

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weebslawyer · 2 years

Text

Some sort of Dottore fanfic/ oneshot ig

Dottore x fem reader

Warnings?: mention of abuse, mention of blood, suicide?

Words: 2487

You lived your entire life with your family, but in one night, after your father keep beating and abusing your mother she left, letting you and you siblings there. You still could not understand why she stayed with him, why she kept loving him, she was too smart and intelligent for him, she taught you everything you knew, and him, he was just a drunk. And obviously, because the circle would not break that easy, you and your brother where his next victims. Out of rage and too much alcohol, he let his dark side on both of you, but you keep staying there, trying to protect your younger siblings from a life like this. You question a lot of times why she didn't take all of you with her, or why, one night, when he was sleeping she didn't killed him. But a part of you knew why.

Your tears where already on your checks, while your father was beating you with cold blood like you were not even his daughter, that was the only thought in your mind. And that's how you got your vision.

After a while he was bored and tired of beating something that was not even able to show emotion after so much suffering. It was not satisfying for him at this point. He goes to his room, ending his day while you try to get up, clean yourself and make some food for your siblings.

"Here, eat something" you said trying to smile and stroking they hair

"Here, let me clean this" your brother said while he was cleaning a wound you couldn't see.

"Thank you" you said trying not to say something about how painful that was.

"I'm so sorry" he said hugging you.

"Just, leave me alone and put them to sleep"

He sigh and did what you told him to.

But this night, you had another idea. You where ready to end this once and for all. You put a cloth in your pocket and a knife in your sleeve and go to your father room. He was peacefully sleeping as he was not destroying the life of his kids. You take out the cloth and make a clew out of it and put it in his mouth trying to not wake him up, and then you take the knife and cut his throat in the same cold blood he was abusing all of you. You see him waking up and trying to scream but the cloth stopped him. You see his blood everywhere even on your dress. You back up and feel hitting someone. You look and you see your brother.

"I- I had to" you said looking at him, and then at your father.

"Run. Leave and never look back" he said checking if he's dead.

You run and hug him tight. "Take care of you" you said and the run in your siblings room and hug them too.

And then you ran. Run and run and run. As far as you could. The rain start and you had to stay somewhere, but where. Who would accept to let a random girl in their house, and covered in blood. No one. After a while you see a huge building in front of you and you spot a dry place. You sit there and pull your knees to your chest trying to warm yourself up, but you where too tired to stay awake.

You don't know how much time was passed from the moment you fell asleep and now. You woke up in what was supposed to be a hospital room but something was off, and you knew it. You had a different dress and you where clean, your hair in a nice braid.

"Someone woke up" you heard someone laughing

You turn around and see a men with light green hair and a mask. You look at him how he gets closer to you.

"Oh dear, your not going to say anything? Not every day I found a girl sleeping outside my lab" he said with a smile on his face

You stay silent.

"Not very talkative are we" he said caressing your hair

And once again you don't say anything.

"You're not scared of me. Interesting. Such an interesting specimen. Or maybe" he gets a little bit too close "You don't know who I am" he smiled.

You look at him and you where not sure if he's going to kill you or not. Or at least not now.

You see a servant or assistant, you couldn't tell, bringing you a plate with food. You where hungry and you couldn't tell until now.

"Are you hungry?"

"Yes" you said looking after the food

"Ok. Then eat something" he said telling the assistant to let the food somewhere.

He stayed there while you where eating, asking you a bunch of questions, but you said nothing.

"At least you can say something beside 'yes' and I hope 'no'?" he asked.

"Yes" you said finishing your food

You hear him starting to laugh, a little bit to much. And you find out he has such a nice laugh.

"Let's call it the day" he said leaving.

The next day was the same. The following day too.

And today was the same, but he also tried to force you to answer.

"Can we skip to the part where you just kill me?" you asked looking at him.

"Why? You can take a little bit of pain?" he smiled taking your hand in his

"You know, if I wanted to be beaten up and tortured I would have just stayed home and maybe my siblings would still have a parent if you can call him that. So yeah, I can take more then this but I’m just so so so tired"

"So you can speak more then a few words huh" he said letting you go "So, the blood on your dress was from you father. The same father you killed. So now, you are a villain, just like me"

"I'm not a villain or maybe I am, at least for my brother and younger siblings" you said laughing and then bursting into tears

"I'm almost sorry you know" he said carrying you to your bed "But I think I'll keep you here"

"Why?" you asked “ I was not joking about you killing me you know”

"For fun I guess and I know, but I have all the time in the world" he said and after looking at you, he left.

And that was just the start. He didn't let you out often, and when he did, he send you after materials for his experiments. He taught you the things he knew and how to do things, even tho you weren't too talkative when his employees where around. He even give you your own room. And the weird thing is that, sometimes, you can hear him coming into your room and falling asleep next to you, but when the day comes he always left. You weren't sure want to believe, I mean, he was the bad guy after all, you say him killing people, but he was never like that too you, except that one moment.

That's how 3 years has passed, sometimes you wonder how are your siblings living, if they are still alive or if they have what to eat or how they look. Probably they changed a little or even more then you expect. You missed them and that was no mystery for you. You where at you balcony, the one from your dorm. And you where looking outside, looking at the people and still questioning how Dottore just blend in his lab as an almost normal building. He also jokes around how you are the princess in his castle, but that's another story.

As you where looking outside, you see a familiar face, or at least that's what you think. So you decide to follow it. You try to get out without anyone seeing you. You try to look after that person again and wow, the world look so different from what you where used to then on those days when Dottore let you out.

You feel someone dragging you on some alley and then hugs you.

"Y/n" he said looking at you

"Theo" you said hugging your brother back "Are you ok? The rest are ok? Please tell me all of you are fine" you said with tears in your eyes.

"We are. Thanks to you we are" he said hugging you again and start telling you about their life.

"I'm so happy you can leave the life mom would love you to have"

"Yes, but we have this life because of you. And we really miss you" he said letting a long sigh out.

"I would love to see all of you one day"

"Come now" he said

"I can't. I have to go back before someone notice I'm missing"

"Ok, then let's meet again in 10 days" he said and he tells you their address.

And then you go back and go straight in your room.

After some time you decide to take a bath, thinking about this day and happy your brothers are fine and most important alive. You make some bubbles and then you go inside the bathtub enjoying the hot water. You hear the door on your bathroom smashing to the wall and you see a very angry Dottore.

"You went out" he said taking his clothes of

"I can explain" you said looking at him

"You can explain? I really hope you can little bird because I asked you one thing, to not go out without telling me and without letting you go" he said taking your hand without realizing he lift you out of the water letting your naked body exposed.

"Dottore!" you shout at him putting yourself back in the water covering yourself "At least get out and let me get dress" you look at him and he was in the same position, blushing, or at least that's what you think it was

"I- Alright, but it better don't take too much" he said giving you intimacy.

You get dress with one of the nightgown he bought you. You see him having open some of the buttons of his shirt and walking around your room.

"I'm waiting" he said stopping and turning to you

"Right. So, um, I don't know what to say actually" you said

"You don't know what to say?" he asked getting closer to you "How about we start with who the fuck was the guy you were hugging on that alley, huh? It might be a start don't you think"

"The guy who hugged me?" you start laughing after you realize what he meant "Are you jealous?"

"You laughing girl? Is that funny for you?" he said putting a hand around your waist pulling you closer to him "Who. Is. He."

"He is.. My brother Dottore. He's my brother. I left because I thought I saw someone who looked like him and I got curious and I was right" you said while playing with his hair and the closing the buttons of his shirt.

He take and kiss your hand "Good, I hope you're not lying little bird"

"I would never lie to you, and we both know that"

"Right" he said kissing your forehead, surprising both of you.

"Also, if I'm allowed, I want to see them. He invited me to go and have dinner with them in like 10 days"

"You can go" he said taking his coat "Now go to sleep" he said leaving.

"Thank you" you said a little bit sad "I didn't want you to leave" you said to yourself hugging a pillow.

You tried and tried to sleep but you couldn't. So you decide to pay Dottore a visit. You get out of your room and go to his room and knock.

"Yes" he said

"Hi" you said entering his room and it was just an extension of his lab and a bed randomly put there

"What do you want?" he asked finally looking at you

"I- Nothing. Probably I should leave. I'm sorry if I interrupted something" you said

"Stay" he said getting up

"Are you sure?"

"Yes" he said closing the door behind you

You smiled and look around his room like a curious child and to your shook he start explaining to you everything you see. It was such a different side of how he usually is.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yes but I don't promise I'll answer"

"What if someone will try to stop you? I mean, you go after an archon"

"Then, they will die in process" he said caressing your hair "But don't worry"

"How am I supposed to not worry?"

"I will not die so easily little bird. At least not when I know I have you here"

"I hope we both remember you basically kept me here as an hostage"

He laugh "I know, but you had the freedom an hostage doesn't have"

"You're right and I want to thank you for that"

"Don't. I don't even know why I was like that or maybe I do"

"Maybe you do, maybe is the same reason why you came in my room and sleep with me and when the sun rise you leave. It's pretty frustrating when the guy you like act like that"

"How did you know?"

"You think I don't hear you? Or feel you close to me?" you asked putting you hands around him

"Maybe you're right" he said kissing you "You are not as stupid as I thought you are"

"Thank you?" you laugh and kiss him again to his surprise

"Listen little bird, I am a villain" he said lifting your chin "But I'll never be a villain to you"

"Is that a confession?" you smiled

"Probably it is" he kissed your forehead "Now you probably should sleep"

"Only if you stay with me" you said while going in his bed

"Fine" he said taking off his shirt and coming next to you

You stare at him and try not to blush to much.

"You're staring" he said hugging you

"It's not like I see you like that every day" you said putting your head on his chest

"Right" he said kissing you one more time

After you fall asleep, he take his mask off, and go to sleep too.

The next day you woke up in his arms. You turn around and look at him seeing his without his mask. You smiled and see him waking up, and for the first time you see his beautiful eyes.

He smiles and bury his head in your chest "Morning" he said in his morning voice

"Morning love" you said stroking his hair

And that was the beginning of something that might be beautiful.

#genshin impact dottore #genshin impact il dottore #dottore #dottore x reader #dottore x you #ill dottore #il dottore #genshin impact

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helliontherapscallion · 4 years

Text

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Tuesday

Monday Wednesday Thursday (Part 1) Thursday (Part 2) Friday Saturday Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: anxiety, doctor’s offices, taking pain pills (not sure if I need to tag that, but just in case), stalkers, blackmail, swearing, non-consensual taking pics of nudes, slight body dysmorphia, self-loathing, toxic friends

Word count: 5,326

(A/N): another long chapter, my little wlw heart loved writing this chapter! Also holy shit I was not expecting the first part to blow up, thank you to everyone that read it! Gosh, it’s enough to make a grown woman cry :’)

You cracked open your crusty eyes to Wilbur poking his head into your room. “(Y/n), Dad wants you.”

You groaned rubbing at your eyes in an attempt to get the sleep out of them. “I’ll be down in a sec.” Your voice was scratchy and thick with sleep.

He closed the door silently and you heard his socked feet thumping down the hallway. Your pain faded slightly into soreness, but your shoulders and upper back were slightly stiff. After you drug yourself out of bed, you shambled down the stairs to see your family at the table eating breakfast. Your stomach growled loudly, making you blush slightly in embarrassment.

Your eldest brother snorted. “Hungry (y/n)?”

You slumped into your seat next to him slowly shoveling food into your mouth. “You have no idea.”

“You wouldn’t be that hungry if you ate dinner when you got home like I told you to do last night, young lady. You better eat every single thing on that plate.”

There was no arguing with a stern Dadza, so you reluctantly complied. Meanwhile, Tommy and Tubbo were telling Wilbur about your match animatedly.

“And the ball was like fwoosh and she- the ball and-and-”

“And she hit it and Haley hit it to the other side! It was so cool!”

Wilbur merely smiled listening to them ramble about how badass you were last night. They made you feel genuinely happy that they admired your volleyball abilities; they were probably your biggest fans and that made your day most of the time. You remembered the first match they came to during your freshman year, they had run up to you right after the end-of-match whistle blew to spew about how good you were on the court. They met the team that day. Your team adored having them at your games, over the years they slowly replaced your school’s mascot. They played a huge part in morale boosts before and during matches.

He looked over to you, “I didn’t know my little sister could be so badass.”

You felt your cheeks flare up. “It’s nothing I haven’t done before. It really wasn’t anything special.”

“(Y/n),” Philza pursed his lips, “you did all that with a bruised back, I’d consider that something special.”

“Wait (y/n), you’re hurt?” Tommy and Tubbo looked at you with wide concerned eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s not that bad. I can still move and stuff.”

Techno rolled his eyes, “it’s bad if you’re going to the doctor for it.”

“Eh, it doesn’t hurt as bad as it did yesterday, so I’m not worried.”

“You’re deadass wincing everytime you move your arm,” WIlbur deadpanned, “it clearly still hurts.”

“Well yeah, I didn’t say the pain went away completely. Fuckin’ dumbass.”

“Language,” Philza glared at you two, gesturing to the two fifth graders watching the exchange with interest.

You and Wilbur resumed eating and murmured out a defeated “sorry Dad.” You both glared at Techno when he huffed in amusement.

“If you three keep bickering, you’re going to be late to school. Remember, you two have to drop off Tommy and Tubbo today cuz I’m taking your sister to her appointment. Now go get ready, I’ll take care of your dishes.”

Your brothers took off up the stairs, each competing to get to the bathroom first. Occasionally, you would hear shouts and slapping noises. You felt glad you didn’t have to deal with that today. Judging by Techno’s gruff voice laughing and an explosion of loud complaints from the rest, you assumed that he won today. “I swear, they’re gonna put me in an early grave.”

“You and me both Dad, you and me both.”

You went into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of pain pills from the junk drawer. Various bottles of Motrin and Advil were scattered around the house because when you live with a rambunctious family like this one, people are bound to get hurt and headaches are common. Popping three into your mouth, you washed it down with a glass of water. The sound of the running water faucet and the slight splashing of water filled the silence of the room.

“How’s your back? Does it feel any better?”

“Kinda, today it just feels more sore than throbbing, my headache went away mostly, and my shoulder doesn’t feel any worse, so that’s better I guess.”

He shut off the water and reached for a towel to dry off his wet hands. He moved over to the freezer and grabbed a frozen package of peas that your family never ate. You all used it whenever one of you would get a bruise. He moved behind you and held it against your back without warning. Flinching forward from the unexpected temperature change, you winced with the wave of pain moving brought you.

“Shit, sorry.”

“You’re good. Just give me a little warning next time,” you chuckled. He gently placed it back on your back and you sighed from the slight relief that it brought you. You leaned into the peas and closed your eyes. “That feels amazing.”

“I bet. That bruise was pretty bad yesterday, can I look at it again?”

You reluctantly left the sanctuary that was the medical grade frozen peas and leaned forward, moving your hair out of the way for him. “Knock yourself out.”

He made a hissing noise as soon as he moved your shirt out of the way. “Dad, it probably looks worse than it feels.”

“...Have you seriously not looked at this yet? It looks pretty bad, hun.”

“Well, sorry I can’t move to look at my back without being in pain. I’ll try harder next time.” You snarked him.

“Hey, watch the attitude. Here, I’ll take a picture so you can see how bad it is.”

You heard the rustling of fabric as he fished his phone out of his pocket and the obnoxiously loud click of his camera app. You turned around to look at the damage. You squinted at his bright phone screen. Your entire back was swollen in some areas and was covered in ugly reds, blues, blacks, and purples. You made a disgusted noise in the back of your throat and cringed away from the screen. You always got nauseous seeing injuries.

“Yikes.”

“Yikes isn��t the only word I would use, it’s bad (y/n).”

“It looks worse than it feels, I promise. I’m gonna go get ready so we’re not late to my appointment. It sounds like the boys are finally done with the bathroom.”

You hobbled up the stairs slowly and made your way to the bathroom. The door was wide open ready for you to use. Turning on the light, you closed the door in a hurry so that your brothers wouldn’t try to get in again to hog the bathroom like they usually did. You frowned at your appearance. Your hair was sticking up in every direction and you had dark eye bags around your dull looking eyes. A few pimples dotted your skin like constellations in the night sky, but much uglier and more out of place. Turning your body, you scanned your figure. Your eyes watered as you realized that you had gained some weight. Adrian, Sammy, and Annie were right, you looked like garbage all the time.

You ripped your eyes away from yourself in the mirror with disgust etched deep into your features. You were disgusting through and through. Ripping your brush through your hair, you winced at the pain emanating from the back of your head. You deserve the pain for letting yourself go. Once you were slightly more satisfied with your appearance, you stepped out of the bathroom and quickly changed into the clothes you would wear today. You decided on a hoodie and a pair of tights. You didn’t feel like dressing yourself up.

You once again walked down the stairs and slipped on your shoes to meet your dad in his car. You idly scrolled through your phone while you waited for him, looking at your notifications for the first time that day. You had ten texts from the group chat that you were in with Adrian, Annie, and Sammy.

Sammy <3

(Y/n) where the hell are you?

Adrian <3

Do you guys think she ditched us?

I knew she was ignoring us

Sammy <3

Who ignores their friends?

Annie <3

(Y/n) apparently.

She has more important things to do ig

Oh my god

Do you guys think she skipped school?

Adrian <3

I wouldn’t put it past her

Maybe she finally gave up

(Y/n)

I’m sorry guys, I just have a doctor’s appointment today

I would never ignore you

Sammy <3

Yk, it’s hard to keep defending you when you keep ditching us..

(Y/n)

I’m not ditching you!

I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys about my appointment

I’ll make it up to you guys

Adrian <3

How?

You’ve already skipped out on us enough already

Annie <3

Oh ik!

She can write our final research paper for us Dri!

I haven’t started it yet lmao

Adrian <3

Saaaame lmaoooo

Sammy <3

Guys, what about me???

Adrian <3

Idk, figure it out yourself

Sammy <3

Rude!

Uhhh

Ur gonna put together my final presentation for us history

(Y/n)

Alright, I can do that for you guys

Sam can you pls send me the rubric?

Annie <3

Thanks love ;)

(Y/n)

No problem, I like doing things for friends

My dad’s coming, I gotta go

Talk to you guys later

Adrian <3

Byeeee (y/n), ur the best!

(Y/n)

: ) <3

You put your phone down as your dad started up the car and pulled out of the driveway. The drive was quiet as you stared out the window and thought about how much work you now had to do. On top of your own classes, you had two more to write and a presentation to make in a class you hadn’t taken since the first semester in your sophomore year. The research papers had to be at least four full pages long with a minimum of ten sources each due on Friday and you had no idea how big Sammy’s US history presentation has to be or what it’s even about. But that was fine, you’d do anything for your friends.

“So, who were you texting? Your boyfriend?” He asked jokingly.

“Oh, just Adrian, Sammy, and Annie. I don’t have a boyfriend Dad,” because you were a closeted lesbian, but you wouldn’t tell him that anytime soon. “You know that.”

“I know,” he chuckled, “it’s been a while since I’ve seen them. How have they been?”

“They’re good. Adrian got a job at the diner, he’s a host. Sammy and Annie have been focusing more on raising their grades.”

“Good for them! You should invite them over for dinner sometime.”

“I was actually thinking that I could maybe go hang out with them on Halloween...?”

“(Y/n), the family was going to take Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating.”

“I know, but there’s always next year. Plus, we haven’t been able to hang out in so long! We’re always free at different times.”

“I don’t know (y/n), what if they don’t want to trick-or-treat next year? What were you planning on doing with them?”

“We were just gonna hang out at Annie’s house and watch some horror movies,” you lied. He would never let you go if he knew you were going to a party. Especially one where alcohol would be involved and hormonal teenage boys ran rampant actively scouting for an easy lay.

“...I’ll think about it.” The car pulled into the doctor office’s parking lot.

“Thank you Dad! It’s been a while since we’ve all hung out together.”

He chuckled as you both walked into the lobby, checked in, and waited for your name to be called. About ten minutes later, you were summoned by a nurse so you went into the back leaving your dad to wait in the lobby. The nurse recorded your height and weight (much to your dismay, you gained four pounds) and asked you the standard questions about your injury and uncomfortable questions about your overall health. The clacking of her acrylic nails on the plastic keyboard filled the awkward silence.

Once that was done, she left and you had to wait a little bit for the doctor. After slipping into the backless gown the nurse left, you mindlessly scrolled on your phone. Jumping when someone knocked on the door, you looked up to see your family’s doctor smiling at you.

“Hello (y/n), how are we feeling today?”

“I’m alright.”

“I hear that you had quite the fall onto some concrete, is that true?”

“Yes, I landed on my back and the back of my head.”

She reached over and squirted hand sanitizer onto her hands, rubbing it in and looking back at you. “Can you please lay on your stomach so I can take a look at your back?”

You nodded, shifting on the uncomfortable paper covered cushioned table onto your stomach. You felt her cold hands gently graze your bruises before she pulled out her stethoscope. “Can you take a good deep breath in for me?”

You complied and she instructed you to let it out. Doing this multiple times along your back, she put her stethoscope away and continued prodding at your exposed back.

“There’s definitely some swelling in multiple areas… It doesn’t feel or sound like you cracked or broke any ribs, which is excellent… Do you have any pain deep in your shoulder when you move it?”

“Yes, I landed on it wrong last night at my volleyball match.”

“How would you describe your pain? Stabbing, sore, throbbing…”

“More sore, but a little stabbing pain when I move my arm.”

She moved her fingers to examine your shoulder. “It doesn’t sound like a sprain or fracture, can you move it up and down for me?”

You moved your arm up and down, front and back, and side to side. “You still have a full range of movement, that’s good. Can I have you sit back up again?”

You sat back up and she started testing you for a concussion. After passing her tests, you were cleared of having a concussion. “Alright (y/n), it appears that you only strained your deltoid and teres muscles and you have severe bruising along your back. Make sure you ice your back and, if you have one, wear a shoulder compression sleeve. Anti-inflammatory medications such as Ibuprofen will help with the swelling. Other than that, you have a clean bill of health! You can still participate in volleyball practices, but you need to take it easy. Don’t do anything that will strain the muscles any further.”

“Thank you Dr. Samson,” you smiled at her.

“You’re welcome. I’ll leave you to change back into your clothes and you’re free to go! You may leave the gown on the table.”

She left the room and you redressed yourself. Walking out to the lobby, Philza’s head perked up when he heard the door opening. He stood up and walked over to you with a slightly worried face. You both walked back out to the car.

“So?”

“Dr. Samson said that I don’t have a concussion, sprains or broken bones. She told me that I just strained my shoulder muscles and I need to keep ice on my back.”

He visibly slumped in relief. “Thank god. What’d she say about volleyball?”

“She said that I could keep playing, but I have to take it easy.”

“Good, wouldn’t want you missing finals on Thursday. Do you know if the team you’re playing is any good?”

“Dad, of course they’re good, we’re the top two teams in the area.”

“I bet their setter is nowhere near as good as you are and I bet the setter and spiker aren’t as synced as you and Haley are. You two make a good pair.”

“Yeah we do, don’t we?” You looked out the window and smiled a little and felt your ears turn red. The very mention of Haley’s name was enough to make you feel like you were on cloud nine. The car fell silent again as you neared your high school.

In your AP world history class, the class was looking at the test you had taken yesterday. Surprisingly, you got a 74% on the multiple choice part and a 50% on your essay portion, so that landed you with a just below passing grade. You thought you completely flunked that test yesterday, so that was a pleasant surprise. It took a good portion out of your overall grade in the class, lowering it from a comfortable A- to a slightly alarming B. You supposed it could’ve been a lot worse. Besides reviewing your tests, the class didn’t do much except starting the reading for the next chapter.

Your psychology online class went like it usually did, however your phone blew up with texts about midway through the block. Glancing down, you saw that it was Haley. Shouldn’t she be in class?

Hales : )

(Y/n) meet me in the locker room right after school

I need to talk to you before practice starts

It’s an emergency

(Y/n)

What’s going on?

Hales : )

I’ll explain after school.

Can’t talk about it over text

(Y/n)

Alright, see ya then ig

You felt your gut twinge. Something’s wrong, but you didn’t know what. You were worried about Haley, usually she was really bubbly. You’ve never seen the senior act so strange before. You could only wait the block out until the bell would release you from the confines of the library and into the locker room. After sending a quick text to your brothers that you were going to stay after school for your practice, you stared blankly at your laptop’s clock as you counted down the minutes left in the class period. Ten minutes. Eight minutes. Four minutes. Two minutes. Thirty seconds-

You shot up from your seat as the bell rang. Pushing past some groups of freshmen that congregated in the hallways, you made a beeline for the locker room. In the locker room, you found Haley sitting on the metal bench on the opposite end of the locker room with her back facing the last row of lockers and facing the brick wall. She was clenching her phone in her hand with an iron grip. You hurried to sit next to her.

“Hales, what’s going on? Talk to me.”

“It’s bad (y/n). Like, really bad.”

“What’s bad? You’re worrying me.”

Wordlessly, she unlocked her phone and handed it to you. On the screen was something that you weren’t expecting to see. You scrolled through the contents and felt your stomach drop with each scroll; someone took pictures of you and Haley throughout the match last night. Every picture was a violation to yours and Haley’s dignities, they had gotten zoomed in pictures of your boobs and asses. Deeper, there were even pictures taken of you changing into your volleyball uniform through your open window. You were only in your underwear. Haley had a similar picture that you scrolled past as fast as you could. Scrolling to the bottom of the text message thread, the person that sent Haley the pictures added a caption to the last picture. It was a picture of you and Haley together celebrating your match, her arm slung around your shoulder with your mouth open mid-laugh.

Unknown

I’m sending these out to the entire school unless you stop hanging around her.

If you tell anyone, the pics will be printed off and put in every single locker and bathroom the school has.

You’ll be the sluts of Klinkver High.

Cut all ties now. You have two days.

Do not try me.

“Jesus christ Haley. Who the fuck would do this? This is sick.”

She took her phone back and locked it without looking at the screen. “I don’t know (y/n). I wanted to tell you not to openly talk to me for a few days. We don’t know who took these, we don’t know what they’re capable of. I don’t wanna risk angering them.”

“We can find them! If we look close enough, we might find a few clues where they were sitting. Do you remember seeing anything suspicious last night?”

“(Y/n), our best option is to leave it. We just can’t talk in person anymore; we can still text each other.”

“Hales, how are we gonna not talk? I’m your setter.”

She ran a hand through her thick black hair. “I don’t know (y/n). Just-just don’t talk to me anymore, I don’t want your pictures leaked.”

“I don’t care about my pictures. My name’s been drug through so much shit this past year that it won’t affect me. I don’t want your stuff leaked.”

She gave a watery laugh, “you care too much, I love that about you…” Glistening eyes turned to look deep into your own. “I’m so scared (y/n), I don’t know what to do.”

You pulled her into a hug, wincing slightly when she squeezed her arms around your upper back. She buried her face into your shoulder and started shaking with muffled sobs. “Haley, I promise I’ll catch whatever sick bastard is doing this to you. You don’t deserve this.”

She said nothing as you rested your chin on the top of her head and started to rock her back and forth slowly. You two stayed like that even after her sobbing resided, finding comfort in each other’s presence. Glancing at the clock, you realized that you two have been in the locker room for an hour. Practice was set to start in fifteen minutes, people were going to start coming into the locker room soon.

You reluctantly pulled away from the hug and looked Haley in her bloodshot eyes, “I’m not going to let those pictures of you get leaked. I swear on my-”

The door to the locker room swung open and loud laughter echoed throughout the room. Haley pushed you away and speed walked off to a bathroom stall, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Damn (y/n), what’d you do? She’s pissed.”

“It’s none of your business, Zara.”

“Oh, so it’s a lover’s quarrel then~” She cackled, her hair bouncing slightly with each heave of her shoulders.

“For the love of… Haley and I aren’t dating, we’re both straight.” She’s straight.

“Mmhm.” She brushed past you to go to her locker. You followed her, your locker was in the grouping next to hers. You shared the area with Haley. You changed as fast as you could so that Haley would have time to change before practice starts. Speed walking into the gym, Zara was hot on your trail wearing a shit eating grin.

“Why are you in such a rush? Giving your girlfriend the silent treatment?”

“Zara. We aren’t dating. For the last time, we’re both heterosexual, not homosexual!” You wildly gestured with your hands to emphasize your point, your voice being amplified by the vast gym. Coach Williams gave you a confused look from across the gym.

“You just keep telling yourself that.”

“I’m serious.”

“Hi serious,” a soft voice replied from behind you, “I’m Jazzy.”

You groaned at the pun at the same time Zara started cackling, giving the short libero a high five. “Nice!”

“That was so bad, Jaz.” You couldn’t help the smile that found its way onto your face.

Zara poked your cheek with a wide grin. “C’mon, you’re smiling!”

“I am and I hate it.”

Your bickering continued with Jazzy watching you two with a content smile. The remaining members of the team (Haley, Marlene, and Zuri) filed into the gym right as Coach Williams blew her whistle.

Practice went by slowly without Haley talking to you. Sure, you had the rest of the team, but it didn’t feel the same with you guys ignoring each other. If the team or Coach Williams noticed you two not talking to each other, they didn’t say anything. By time practice was over, you all went to the locker room to change. After slipping into your fuzzy pajama pants, you sat on the bench and texted Wilbur to come pick you up. He was supposed to pick you up after practice today because he and Techno took the car home after school. Five minutes passed and he still didn’t reply. He probably won’t see the text until you got home from walking.

You sighed, resting your chin in your palm as you leaned forward. One by one, the girls left the locker room until it was only you and Haley left.

“Do you need a ride (y/n)?” She asked gently.

“But what if the person sees us together? I can just walk home, it’s not really a big deal.”

She rolled her eyes at you. “It is a big deal. It’s cold and dark out. You could get kidnapped or something. You don’t even have a coat with you. I’m giving you a ride whether you like it or not.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at her and stood up to walk next to her, “okay, mom.”

“Don’t give me that attitude young lady.”

“You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not my real mom!”

She gasped and lightly smacked the back of your shoulder, “I married your- are you alright? Shit, I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No, you’re good. It’s just this damned bruise.”

She moved her hands and frantically turned you around to pull the neck of your shirt down. You two stood in front of the school’s main entrance with the nauseatingly bright fluorescent light bouncing off the reflective surface of the tiles. The orange tinted street lights lit up the sidewalk outside.

“(Y/n)-”

“I know what you’re gonna say.”

She scoffed, “oh really? What am I gonna say then, o wise one?”

You turned around to face her, “‘oh, this is bad, yadda yadda yadda.’ Everyone’s been saying that about it. Honestly it looks worse than it feels. Tis but a scratch, m’lady.”

She snorted and covered her mouth, “never call me ‘m’lady’ ever again.”

You started to walk to her car in the empty parking lot. “Or what? What’re ya gonna do?”

“I swear to god, (y/n), I’m gonna leave you here.”

“Do it, pussy. Bet you won’t.”

“You really wanna bet?”

You grinned at her, “hell yeah.”

She broke off into a mad dash to her car, laughing freely into the night sky. You chased after her trying not to move your arms much, your laugh mixing with hers like a perfect symphony composed of the world’s best musicians. The sound of your rubber soles slapping the pavement resonated throughout the parking lot as you quickly gained on her. Reaching out to grab her shirt, she smirked at you and sharply turned to the right into the grass.

You grinned as her pace slowed down slightly. You’d be able to catch her at this pace. You pushed your legs to move faster as she looked at you from over her shoulder and shrieked in surprise at how close you were to her. You cackled at her reaction, reaching out once again, you grabbed her hand. She was stopped dead in her tracks as your shoulder was yanked with the sudden momentum, making you hiss in slight pain. Despite that, you didn’t let go of her soft hand.

You both stood there under the moonlight and the soft orange street lamps trying to catch your breath. The slightly damp blades of grass tickled your ankle as you shifted to face her better. Through gasping breaths and a dopey grin, you said “you… lost, pussy.”

She let out a breathy laugh as she pulled you to her car. “Shuddup.”

“Make me~”

She opened the passenger side door for you and got into the driver's seat. Her car smelled like vanilla and citrus. “Oh, you will later when I make you do more sets in weight lifting tomorrow, hurt shoulder be damned.”

She turned on the ignition and the car revved to life, soft indie pop wafted from the speakers. She backed out of the parking space and sped off to the main road. “You wouldn’t…”

“I’m your captain, (y/n). I can make you do whatever I want.” You felt your cheeks heat up a tad. You were happy that she couldn’t see you.

“Naw, you’re too much of a softie for that. Admit it, I’ve got you wrapped around my little finger.”

She chuckled as she pulled into your driveway and put the car in park. “...Alright, maybe you do. Just a bit.”

She turned to look at you. She looked stunning with the shadows accentuating the contours of her face perfectly. You found yourself glancing at her lips and leaning slightly towards you. To your surprise, she started leaning into you as well. Before your lips could finally mesh together, she pulled back with a sigh and ran her hand through her hair. You felt a rush of disappointment and fear course through your veins. She didn’t like you like that, you should’ve known better. You were so stupid. So, so stu-

“I can’t (y/n). I want to kiss you so bad, but we can’t. Not yet at least. Not until we find the pervert that took those pictures of us.”

You sighed, “right.”

The car was filled with awkward silence. Not even the soft music streaming from the speakers could alleviate the awkwardness. God, you really screwed up your friendship, didn’t you? Sammy, Adrian, and Annie were right; you messed up everything you touched.

You coughed, “I think I’m gonna…”

“Yeah…”

You grabbed your bag and walked into your house, the smell of chicken slapping you in the face instantly. Without checking in with your dad, you hurried up the stairs, desperate for the warm comfort of your bed. That, and if you wanted to get Sammy’s presentation and Adrian’s, Annie’s, and your research papers done by Friday, you had to start as soon as you could. You were going to skip dinner for tonight, you’d just grab more breakfast tomorrow morning.

You plopped on your bed and got started on your research paper. Luckily, you already had all of the sources you were planning on using and the rough outline of each body paragraph, so writing the actual paper wasn’t going to take long. You worked until you heard a knock at your door.

“(Y/n),” Techno’s monotone voice called out, “dinner’s ready.”

“Tell Dad I’m not hungry. Practice’s got me beat, I’m going to bed soon.”

He grunted, “you know he’s not gonna like that right?”

You felt frustration start to swim circles around your chest, “Techno, just tell him that I’m not hungry right now. Please.”

“Damn, you don’t need to be like that. I’ll tell him.”

You heard his stomping footsteps thumping down the hall. Shit, you pissed him off. You were a terrible person, he was just trying to get you to eat something, Pushing back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes, you forced the panic that was starting to swirl around your body in laps deep into your being. You didn’t have time to deal with your failures and stupid emotions, you had to get this done. You didn’t have time to think about Haley’s warm breath ghosting across your lips. You didn’t have time to think about how she probably regretted almost kissing you. You didn’t have time to fall into an anxiety spiral, you needed to focus if you wanted Adrian, Annie, and Sammy to forgive you. You ruined yours and Haley’s friendship and did the same to yours and Techno’s. They were the only ones you had left. You needed to be a better friend.

Taglist (comment if you want to be added or if I missed you, it won’t let me tag some tumblrs :((( ):

@immadatmostthings @thaticecreambish @hee-hee-haw @dearnataliealoveletter @wasteofspacze @dcml04 @bbigbbrainn @dirtydiavolo @vanhakirja @rinzyx05 @misselsbells06 @ialexabsuniverse @im-a-depressed-gay @energy-drinkk @mothra-main @i-need-hugs @dragons-lurk-here @katj733 @m4r-s @vievi @dykeragee @waterstrawberry @aplaintart @kakamiissad @myunfinishedsymphony @nagitokinnieissad @autumnpleaves @justanothergirlwithdemons @zachariethememerie @moon-asia @m0on-blue @strawberrysodababy @akikko-yataro @haikkeiji @shiningsunrises @cinnamonmochi @queen-turtle-boiii @imanewsoul @sparkling-gayyyy @angelicaschuyler-church @vixenfoxpup @ella-ivanov @shio-yuki @mosstea-png @ijustshatbricks

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oftenderweapons · 3 years

Text

Dirty ABCs | Namjoon and Vixen

Pairing: Namjoon x Vixen (OC)

Wordcount: 2.1k

Genre: headcanons

Rating: 18+. Minors, do not interact.

This just me having a little bit of fun in between collabs and commissions with an NSFW alphabet, so I can also get to know my characters better (yes, they're just characters. Do not assume the boys like/dislike any of the things I mention). A new drabble should be out soon, but just in case you missed it, here's Jimin's post-Soowoozoo smut! Please, read the trigger warnings carefully 🥺💖

Here's my masterlist! enjoy!!!! 💜✨

Trigger warnings: cumshots, cumeating, creampie, marking, unprotected sex, switch!vixen, switch!joon, daddy!joon, DDLG, lapdance, stripping, masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, roleplay, homework within a professorxstudent roleplay, positions (doggy, missionary, reverse cowgirl, bend over), intimacy kink (?), bondage (hands tied, gags), impact play, oral sex, oral fixation, biting, casual mention of foot fetish, food play, choking kink, erotic massage, jealousy (kink), sapiosexuality, size kink, mention of infidelity and sharing partners, mention of outdoor sex, sex toys (dildo, vibrator, manacles, cockring, paddle, buttplug), edging, orgasm denial, orgasm control, overstimulation, BDSM club, uhm...bicuriosity ig?, thickdick!Namjoon, bubblebutt!Vixen impressive sex drive (?)

Aftercare: Namjoon is the kind of guy who’d gladly collapse in bed after some good, nasty fucking. He puts plenty of energy in it and he isn’t content until he’s barely alive before calling it a night. Yes, both him and Vixen need to force the other into heading to the bathroom and cleaning up before falling asleep. When he goes especially hard on her, aftercare becomes a way to relax for both of them: he needs to pamper her to even things out, and she in return likes spoiling him, giving him cuddles, letting him fall asleep with his head on her chest while she strokes his hair. Yes, his favourite cuddle is her touching his hair and chatting about how they felt during sex.

Body part: He most definitely has a thing for legs, hips and ass. Vixen is all about his chest and arms — but, truth is she’s absolutely crazy about his neck.

Cum: He either cums inside or on Vixen’s ass. No other alternatives for him. He hates cumming in her mouth, mostly because her cunt is soooo much better to him; and then again, that means he can eat her out right after — or mark her up and shove his cum back inside. Vixen is a fan of him cumming inside, she’s pretty much traditional about this.

Dirty secret: Namjoon loves when Vixen doms him. He’d never admit that out loud but he’s praying for her to tie him up and strip for him before performing a lapdance and fucking herself with that glass dildo he bought her… He’ll just wait… hopefully… Vixen wants Namjoon to give her homework on some impossible topic and then punish her for every mistake she makes while he’s dressed in a suit and glasses.

Experience: We know all about Joon’s and Vixen’s bodycount. Joon had four, possibly five partners, one of which broke his heart. He wasn’t entirely vanilla with them, but Vixen is most definitely the spiciest he’s been with — and the most rewarding. Vixen had two partners before Namjoon and her first boyfriend was way more experienced than Namjoon is, but that is not an issue to her. She knows if she ever asked him, they could try out pretty much anything.

Favourite position: Namjoon is mostly about doggy and missionary. Doggy for enthusiastic fucking with that teenage eagerness that characterises them both. Missionary when he needs to make love to her slow and steady — though he admits Vixen on top of him in reverse cowgirl is also a hot topic for him. Vixen likes good old missionary since she likes Namjoon’s body shielding hers. She also enjoys bending over for him — especially on the back of the sofa.

Goofy: neither of them is that goofy when it comes to sex. For them is a moment to get rid of tension and gain more intimacy. It’s a moment of communication and connection, and a very spiritual one at that. There might be little giggles and laughs here and there when they’re in a playful mood, but even then they’re more happy than goofy.

Hair: Namjoon trims his hair slightly, just to keep things neat and tidy. Vixen used to shave at the beginning of their relationship. She waxed a few times, to try something different and to feel Namjoon’s tongue better when he goes down on her. She switched to trimming when she found out Namjoon enjoyed a more natural look.

Intimacy: Nothing isn’t intimate between these two. Brushing their teeth together before going to bed? Religion. Getting dinner ready? A ritual. Making love? Therapy. Fucking like gorillas? Relief. These two share one single soul. They’re each other’s temple, and their bedroom is their church.

Jack off: These two? Masturbation galore. They’re the literal proof that being in a relationship should never stop you from taking care of yourself. They masturbate together while they watch porn, they masturbate to the sight of the other one doing it or just watching them. Namjoon is a huge fan of watching Vixen touch herself. He can do it with his hands tied, untied, or stroking his cock. He really doesn’t care as long as he can watch. Plus the fact that the wall dividing his bedroom from the shower is made of glass really gives him the best view when he has morning wood and Vixen is washing herself. And that goes both ways. She likes watching him while she showers, putting on a bit of a show. Vixen also likes watching Namjoon masturbate, though she prefers putting her hands on him. And Namjoon prefers her hands to his own, especially since she’s so fucking good at that.

Kink: We all know these two are the resident DDLG freaks. Other than that Namjoon suffers from a pretty severe case of voyeurism. On the side, all giving, we have oral fixation, impact play, marking, biting, cumplay and cumeating, and a very mild, very experimental foot fetish. He’s also into roleplay, especially regarding school/university environments. To that, we need to add on Vixen’s end exhibitionism and food play, and then, all giving, choking kink, exhibitionism, bondage and gags, erotic massage.

Location: these two need someplace private, since they can’t get in the mood unless they’re 200% sure they can take their time and relax and be as loud as possible. Namjoon would never stand the idea of them getting caught: he needs to protect Vixen. And Vixen would never try something in public. She knows he’d be too focused on the possible dangers to properly enjoy the experience. That doesn’t mean that they don’t tease each other in public. Vixen likes when they talk dirty in public so once they get home Namjoon rips her clothes off her.

Motivation: Namjoon gets turned on whenever Vixen looks incredibly refined and elegant, completely out of his league. Pair that up with someone flirting with her and he goes out of his way to remind her why she got his ring on her finger ten months after they first met. He also gets hot under the collar when he’s reminded of how fucking smart she is; that makes him both proud and horny. On a baser level, she just needs to grind against his thigh, rub her ass on his crotch, kiss his neck or suck his fingers to make him instantly hard. Vixen gets horny very easily when she sees him exercise power — which happens pretty often with him being the leader. Also watching him tower over someone who isn’t her makes her a little volatile — that’s her daddy, he’s her protector.

No: easy. Sharing. Even simply her moans being overheard by someone would make him nervous. Once he used to share everything about his sex life with his friends, but after he and Vixen got engaged, everything involving her without clothes on became a 100% restricted topic. He still happens to talk about sex with his friends, but he must be in need of desperate help in order to share details. Vixen agrees on sharing being a hard no. She also thinks doing stuff in public is absolutely a hard no: she’s far too attached to her job to risk a scandal ruining it. And of course she would never stand Namjoon’s career and reputation going downhill.

Oral: Both fans, Namjoon both on the giving and receiving side, though he prefers giving by far. Vixen is also a fan of receiving. If Namjoon weren’t so damn intimidating, she would enjoy giving more, too.

Pace: depends on the mood. Playful or angry? Then he’s fucking her like she’s nothing but a cocksleeve, straight up jackhammering his way in. Loving and emotional? Then they’re going slow and steady so they can feel every inch of their flesh meeting and parting and squeezing and squelching and sliding.

Quickie: yes, but not excessively. Vixen can only consider a quickie as a form of foreplay. There’s no way to satisfy her unless at least two rounds are involved. Namjoon is more than happy to take his time with her. If they don’t have that much time, they prefer masturbating together — quick, efficient, delectable.

Risk: No? The only risk he would take would be fucking her out in the open, but someplace where the possibility of getting caught is lower than 0.1%. He’d book super secluded villas for their holidays and fuck her until she’s begging him to give her a break.

Stamina: Namjoon hasn’t got too much stamina and Vixen doesn’t either, they just deprive and tease each other when they want to make it super special, otherwise they would be lazy and take naps in between a round and another. And they can truly deal with that brilliantly since they are great at foreplay and that makes up for their rather weak stamina.

Toy: These two are shameless about their toys. Vixen has a thing for dildos, and Namjoon loves spoiling her with those. She has a couple vibrators too, but she’s not that much of a fan: she has a practical one, when she needs things done quick and easy and another one that looked way too cute for her not to have it. In addition to that, they have manacles, a cockring, a paddle and a quite interesting plug.

Unfair: Being with Namjoon is all about the pleasure. He’d much rather overstimulate Vixen rather than deny her. Also because he has very poor control over his instincts and he can’t deny himself. He would tease, edge or deny Vixen only to punish her and make sure that she actually reads that as a punishment and not as some sick way for her to get exactly what she wants (aka spanks). Vixen is more on the teasing side, and she enjoys controlling Namjoon’s orgasms, but she’s very fair. They like to play dirty, but they make sure everyone gets what they need.

Volume: Namjoon is all about low and deep. His moans, groans, growls and grunts all come in a very quiet, although very eloquent way. He prefers keeping it quiet so it feels more intimate. Vixen on the other hand is very vocal, especially when Namjoon goes down on her or is trying to overstimulate her. She’s still considerate about the people living next door, but at the same time, she has a thing for doing it in the studio so she can be as loud as she wants, much to Namjoon’s — and his private tracks’ — chagrin.

Wild card: if it weren’t for his jealousy and his position, Namjoon would love to fuck Vixen in a room full of strangers, just to show how good he can make her feel, and to enjoy just how deranged she would get once adrenaline started kicking in. Claiming her in a semi-public context would help him sate his possessiveness for a good while. Vixen instead would love to go to a BDSM club with Namjoon and watch scenes from other people — maybe, potentially, join? — she most definitely wishes she had done stuff with a girl before getting with Namjoon.

X-Ray: Namjoon is packed. Length is not exceedingly more than average. But match that with more than impressive girth? That’s a wild ride. It most definitely takes a stretch. Vixen has rather small boobs — but she’s more than stubborn to make up with a full, round bubble butt.

Yearning: at the beginning they go pretty wild. Vixen is used to getting at least an orgasm before falling asleep — every night. Of course that tones down once she gets with Namjoon, especially since she learns to prefer quality over quantity and he refuses to get stuff done in ten minutes. She easily slips into a two to three times a week regimen, but deprive her for longer than ten days and she’ll feel neglected. Of course she’d take care of herself, but that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t start drifting away as she’d feel emotionally neglected too. Namjoon considers himself happy as long as he can have a full weekend of fucking: he tends to cram all the sex in days where he can relax since during the week he’s often too tense to initiate anything sexual. But he wouldn’t deny it if the fancy struck him.

Zzz: He falls asleep like a bear. He goes positively lethargic the moment he hits the bed after cleaning up. Vixen finds it extremely endearing. She usually takes longer, but not too much. She likes cuddling him while he’s sleeping.

#Namjoon x vixen #namjoon headcanons #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon alphabet #kim namjoon smut #kim namjoon scenarios #namjoon x yn #bts headcanons #bts headcanon

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blessednereid · 3 years

Text

August

WC: <4100

Mentions: Sexual innuendos, cursing, slut-shaming, Affairs/Adultery, Lying, Deceit

A/N: It’s an AU, basically where James and Lily don’t end up together, and the War ends before they graduate. Snape and Peter don’t become death eaters IG but that doesn’t really matter later on. Unedited, but it’s the last day of August so I gotta get it in NOW.

Pairings: James Potter x Reader, James Potter x Lily Evans, (future) Lily Evans x Reader

~~~

Y/N

Salt air

You and your boyfriend of two months are sitting on the shoreline of the shared beach near your houses. You’ve lived in the same neighbourhood for as long as you can remember, but never really noticed each other until your formative years. And the chemistry was undeniable, which is what led you to that precise moment.

“Hey, James… What do you think is going to happen when we go away for school?” you ask meekly.

Being a Beauxbaton student is as luxurious as it sounds. You never have to put up with brutish and grotesque boys in pissing contests, and while there may be catty classmates, there’s no fighting over boys. No heartbreak. No major drama.

That being said, that didn’t mean that none of you had boyfriends. You all had your fair share of suitors from Durmstrang or Hogwarts or some other school in the country. And yours was James Potter.

He is the epitome of a perfect boyfriend. He remembers small dates, like the exact day your cat died, and knows exactly what you need.

You don’t think you’ve loved anyone as much as you’ve loved him.

And that’s precisely why you’re so afraid to lose him.

You knew that the long distance between you would be difficult. What started as a summer fling quickly became something more, and James changed from a friend who could make you laugh your guts out to the boy that makes your heart sing.

He has his arms wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, and you know exactly what he’s thinking. The distance isn’t going to change my love for you.

But he doesn’t realize that it’ll change the amount he can express. And that’s going to be frustrating. You’ve only been together for a little while. So how would this even work?

“We just have to trust each other, darling. I love you, and you love me. That’s all that matters.”

“But James-”

“No buts,” he states stoically. “Nothing is going to change this. You just need to trust me, trust that this is going to work.”

James

And the rust on your door

He had told you exactly what he meant. That he loved you, and that you could trust him. He knew that he loved you, and that love had taken root in the deepest part of his heart. So when he opened the door to Sirius, Remus, and Peter’s room, since he would not be staying here this year, he not only felt excitement for the new year but sheer happiness at the fact that he had found someone who loved him as unconditionally as he loved her. He did feel some remorse that he wouldn’t be staying with his gaggle of mates though.

“Mate, what’s that grin on your face for? Haven’t gotten in any trouble without us, have you?”

Apparently, James’ inner monologue reflected on his face because all his friends were made aware of the grin on his face.

“No, I just…”

He’d managed to keep the relationship a secret from Sirius that summer because you didn’t want the already confusing relationship to be found out by the Wizarding World. For reporters to make it more convoluted and twisted than it actually was.

“I’m just glad to be back,” he says, deciding he needs to discuss with you if he could tell his friends about your relationship just yet.

I never needed anything more

When he saw Lily in classes the next day, a pang swam through his chest. He didn’t see her yesterday on the train. He wasn’t focusing on that. But now he was. He noticed that her red hair had been cut short to her shoulders and that she appeared much more confident. Her school blouse had the first two buttons popped, showing just the slightest bit of rosy cleavage.

No.

He had promised you that you could trust him, and you could. He knew you could. He was going to be the man that you deserved. Lily was in the past. Lily was a speed bump on his path to finding true love with you.

But why did the way he felt about Lily now feel as strongly as it did before?

And it didn’t help any when she waltzed up to his desk and straightened her arms right in front of his face, pushing out her chest, and making his lust and sexual drive soar. He was sure it was evident. That he’d broken out in a sweat, but he attempted to play it off as cool as an Autumn day.

“Hello James,” she greeted. “How was your summer?”

He gulped. In front of his eyes was a woman, the woman that he had wanted so desperately. He didn’t know her intentions, but he knew his thoughts. And if you could see his thoughts, could hear them… he knew you wouldn’t be pleased. He knew you’d realize that you’d been right in not trusting him. “Summer was fine, Lily-flower. And you? Hang around with Snivelly, any?”

“No, we haven’t talked since the end of last year. But I’m thinking that this is more room for opportunity, to make new friends, see the light, you know?” she grinned and it lit up his heart.

“So, I was talking to Remus, and he told me that I should give you a chance to be one of those new friends,” but the way she said friends implied something more. “And at first, I objected, and then I realized, I never really gave you much light in my eyes. Do you think you could change that, Jamesie?”

And fuck, if that didn’t make his heart race a little.

Lily

Whispers of "Are you sure?"

Lily and James were kissing passionately and furiously as they stumbled into her bedroom. Since becoming head girl, she had gotten her own dorm room. James had also gotten one, but Lily didn’t want to see how messy that room was.

She moved her hands from in between their two bodies and picked up her wand to cast several different nonverbal charms.

When she was done, she pushed James down onto the bed and began tearing off her clothes. And then his. When she was done and they were lying beside each other he muttered a final “are you sure?” to her, and she nodded. He kissed her with ferocious passion until the kiss became something more.

This happened again, again, again.

"Never have I ever before"

When James left Lily’s room for the fourth time that month, she pressed two fingers to her lips in reaction to his goodbye kiss.

“I’ve never felt this way about James. About anyone,” she thought.

He made her feel alive, he made her grin, he made her giggle, and he made her heart flutter when he was around her. Of course, she knew this when she approached him. She just didn’t think it would escalate to this level so soon.

She wants to shout to the world the way she feels about him, the way he makes her feel. How he can take her breath away and make her feel like the most important and most special girl on the planet.

Like she was made just and entirely for him, and that the same applied for him to her.

She couldn’t stop her wild dreams, the ones of vivid love and passion, the ones where he would kiss her, take her hand, and profess his love in grand displays. Where he’d fight for her and never leave her.

Fantasy and delusion never left her mind when it came to him.

Your back beneath the sun

He and she both lie underneath the sun, soaking up its rays, sharing its warmth, staring at the clouds trying to make out certain shapes.

It was a sunny December day, which was rare, so they were getting as much out of it as they could.

“James, we should study,” she lightly approached the devastating topic. “It’s not like I really want to, but what kind of example are we setting as head boy and girl?”

“Well, If we go back up to our dorms, nobody will know if we’re studying or doing something else,” he said with a wriggle of eyebrows.

“No, James!” she laughs, and he joins her. His pearly teeth both ensnaring her mind and rendering her unable to focus on anything but him.

“When’s the next Hogsmeade trip?” he asked casually while he laid back down with his head facing the sky.

“Most likely before the holidays.”

She saw his face contort when she mentioned the Christmas break.

“James, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, I’m just thinking about… the war.” His face was pale, and his face sour.

“I’m thinking of joining the order after I graduate, but it’s still scary, you know. I’m worried about my mum and dad.”

“Your parents are going to be fine, James,” she assured him, but she knew he would be fully relieved until the war was over and all death eaters were locked up.

Wishin' I could write my name on it

She was sitting with Remus in the library when he brought up James. Let the record show that he brought up James, not her.

“So, how is everything going with James?”

She sighed lightly. “It’s magic, Remus. Pun intended.”

He chuckled. “I’m glad you feel that way, Lily. Really, he’s a good guy once you get past that facade he puts on. I knew you’d like him.”

“Yes,” she says faintly. Doubts flood her head about his own feelings.

“What’s wrong, Lily?”

Her eyes turn down to her paper before reaching up again to meet his. “It’s silly, but… sometimes I wonder if he truly feels the same. I mean, most people don’t harbour feelings for one person for this long. What if all along it was just lust, and he’ll cast me away now that he’s satisfied that urge.”

“Lily, I promise you, James has had eyes for no one but you for many years. I highly doubt that it was lust, James isn’t like that.”

“You know,” she smiled. “You’re right. I just wish this didn’t have to be kept so hush-hush. The amount of girls I see fawning over him is grotesque.”

“So then ask him,” he pushed.

She took that as a challenge. “Alright. I will!”

The next time Lily saw James, they immediately rolled into bed and did what lovers do. But after that is when she posed the question.

“James, would we- will we ever be able to make this public?” she asked in a stern voice.

She saw thoughts swimming in his head for a moment.

“Lily,” he rolled onto his side. “We- I… This needs to be a secret for now. I mean, we are waist-deep into this war, and with my plans to go into the order, I can’t risk anyone coming after you.”

His logic made sense to her, and the wizarding world would get too caught up with the son of a prestigious wizard family being with a muggle-born in the middle of all of this.

He was right, she just had to swallow her jealousy for now.

Will you call when you’re back at school

The next week, there was a Hogsmeade trip, and despite them staying near the Marauders, really, it was a date for James and Lily. Or at least that’s what it felt like. An unofficial date.

They bought each other gifts to open over the holidays, kissed discreetly under mistletoes, and held hands while walking through the village.

When they went to get butterbeer for the rest of the group, there was a long but comfortable silence for a while.

“So what are you doing for the holidays?”

“Just going back home, maybe making some treats with my mum,” he said casually. “What about you?”

“Same as you, I guess. I’ll miss you, though.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

She tapped her foot absentmindedly as they waited. “What if I came with you?”

“What?” Panic flooded his face. “No, you couldn’t come with me, I’m afraid. My house is an Order safe place. If a death eater found it, you could be in danger.”

“You’re in danger just being there.”

“And you’re in danger by just breathing, Lily! That would be a double danger. I’m not risking that.”

She cringed at her sudden need to be close to him. “Right, sorry. It was a silly idea. A mindless thought.”

His face softened when he saw her embarrassment. “I’d love to bring you home, Lily, but it’s not safe.” But by now she could tell that he was lying, there was something more.

I remember thinkin' I had you

On the train back from London going to Hogwarts, Lily sat with Marlene and Dorcas, she hadn't seen them quite as much as she would’ve wanted since the school year started, and now was the perfect opportunity.

Lily felt remorse and guilt for not telling her friends about such a crucial part of her life, her relationship with James Potter, and truly she wanted to, but what if they judged her? And Marlene has had a reputation for having a loudmouth. What if she said something and word got out?

They conversed in idle gossip before an interesting topic was brought up. One that left Lily infuriated, and ready to murder a smug bastard.

“Have you heard about Potter and that Beauxbaton girl?”

Her eyes raised in curiosity and scorn. “What Beauxbaton girl?”

Dorcas revealed as much as she knew about you to Lily, your name, family, status in the Wizarding World. By the time she was done, Lily was struck with disbelief.

“And you’re sure they were kissing?” she said in response to Marlene’s information about the article in the Daily Prophet with a picture of them kissing.

“Yes!” she exclaimed.

“I have the article right here,” Dorcas mentioned.

“Way to bury the lead.”

“Oh shush,” she said and handed Lily the newspaper out of her bag.

She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The man she had been with for the past four months was kissing another woman. With Tongue.

“Well, that’s fantastic for him,” she said sourly. “He must feel so proud to have gotten a pretty girlfriend after pining after me for so long. I wonder how long it’ll be before he tries pining after me again,”

“Who knows, maybe it is serious,” Dorcas proposed.

Lily growled. “I don’t think it’s that serious if he’s sleeping with another woman.”

Marlene’s eyes widened. “You don’t mean-”

“Excuse me, I’ll be right back,” she said before exiting the cabin of the train and heading to find James Potter.

“So,” she said when she reached his compartment. “How long have you been seeing her?”

James looked shocked to see her. “Lily, I can explain.”

“Can you? Please explain then. Is this why I couldn’t come with you? Why you had to keep us a secret James? For Godric’s sake, how long have you been seeing her?”

He gulped. “Since the summer.” Even Sirius looked shocked.

“I lived in your house, and you didn’t tell me, mate?”

“Not the time,” Peter chastised.

“Are you serious James? You spouted all of that you love me bullshit when you were with someone else?” Her eyes radiated anger. It was like staring into the mouth of an actively-fire-breathing dragon. “Does she know about me?”

“No, she doesn’t,” he admitted.

Lily said one more sentence before stalking away. “Well, you better tell her, or I will.”

But I can see us lost in the memory

Lily had no intention of telling you anything. She didn’t even know you. How would she send an owl to a total stranger and tell them that their boyfriend has been cheating on them with herself?

Lily never set out to be a homewrecker. But she didn’t even know she was wrecking a home, to begin with.

This was James’ fault, and he was going to own up to it.

Besides, It deserved to come from him. Lily knew how she felt about being told that she was the other woman from some outside source, and she didn’t want to do that to anyone at all.

But not even the sting of betrayal could mask the ever-flowing sadness that emanated from Lily. She truly believed he was in love. And maybe he was. Just not with her. And that was okay, but she didn’t deserve what she was put through.

Still, that doesn’t stop the fact that she, herself, was in love with him, and how is she supposed to ever get over that betrayal.

August slipped away into a moment in time- 'Cause it was never mine

Within the next few months, Lily had fallen into a rut. Her grades began slipping, her mood and cheeriness faltered. Even though the Wizarding World War had recently been won, with death-eaters being locked away, that didn’t change her mood, because she wasn’t in the mood to celebrate, to begin with. Her friends noticed her down-in-the-dumps aura, and despite knowing the cause, and how it wasn’t their fault, they couldn’t help but want to help her, to fix her.

But no one could repair the damage that James Potter caused to Lily but Lily herself. And that started with making amends.

“I have to send a follow-up letter to that girl. So I’ll ask you. Have you told her yet?” She cornered James in the library because, despite Head Boy and Head Girl duties, they didn’t see each other much. After all, he was avoiding her as much as she was avoiding him.

He gulped, “I haven’t. Lily, I can’t tell her. It would kill her, she was so worried about the distance and when she saw me at Christmas break, she was so happy. I don’t want to ruin that.”

“You should’ve thought about that before you started an affair with me, James. An affair I didn’t agree to. I didn’t want to be anybody's mistress. And she deserves to know, and I am going to send her a letter. Today! So if you don’t tell her, she will find out from me. I’ve given you months.”

“Lily, don’t do this. Please. I can’t tell her over an owl. It has to be in person.”

She faltered. He was right. His heart may have been in the wrong place, but his head is in the right one. Doing that, telling you over an owl could have devastating consequences. It was a discussion that had to be had in person.

“Easter Break. That is your chance, James Potter. After that, If you don’t I will.”

She turned on her heel and was about to leave the library when he grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

“Lily, you have to understand, I never meant to hurt you,” he said. “I have fancied you for so long, and when you finally reciprocated this year, I didn’t want to pass up that chance. I was wrong. You are so amazing, and I shouldn’t have done what I did, but please believe this. You deserve so much, and I couldn’t and could never give that to you, but when I did this, I never meant to hurt anyone. I didn’t think it would go this far.”

She scoffed. “Well, it did, James. You hurt me. You betrayed me, and you betrayed her. Neither of us deserved that, no matter what.”

And I can see us twisted in bedsheets

Guilt twisted in her stomach every time she thought of you. Jealousy was surely a stage at first, everything about you had her enchanted, your hair, your eyes, your glowing skin. She was enthralled, and she could see why James was too.

And then she remembered his nights in her dorm, on her bed. Tossing and turning with her, his lips on her mouth, and she didn’t feel envy. She felt regret and culpability. If she had pressed James harder about whether his feelings really were the same as before, if he’d really wanted to do this, maybe he wouldn’t have done it.

And then she wouldn’t be in this position, and you wouldn’t be about to come crash-landing on impact with this heavy, and taboo truth.

But this wasn’t about her, Lily realized. This was about you. And how you were going to feel once James told you what happened when the train meets the station, and that is all Lily can think of as she sits on her bed, staring out of her window. When her owl knocks on the window to deliver her mail, the headline of the Daily Prophet is what catches her eye. “The Prodigal son in an affair with a Muggleborn witch!” It goes on and on about how a secret inside source heard an argument between the two of them in the Hogwarts library.

There is no doubt that you have seen this, and James didn’t get to tell you. Lily didn’t get to apologize to you. This just got a whole lot worse, and Lily didn’t know how she was going to deal with the sudden turn of events.

James is the villain here, she reminded herself. James is in the wrong, but she knew that she was still an unwitting accomplice. And her gut wrenched as she pondered on that very true fact.

August slipped away like a bottle of wine

Lily had to get away from the wizarding world, so although she didn’t plan on going home for the Easter holiday, she had to now.

She was being shamed for her insidious relationship with James, by certain people, mostly Snape and his friends, that bastard. Most everyone was supportive, they realized she had no idea about your relationship, but she was still worried about what you’d say to James, but more about what’d you’d say about her.

Had James told you that she didn’t know? That he lied to both of you. Would you be mad at her either way?

Shame pulsed through her body, and she couldn’t imagine what her mother would say when she told her if she ever did.

Though when she got home, her mother instantly noticed that something was wrong.

Knowing she couldn’t take her mothers knowing stares and hard gaze, she instantly confessed to everything that happened over the semester. Her mother didn’t judge her for having premarital sex as Lily thought she would, but rather comforted her daughter and reassured her. “If James is a half-decent person, he will tell her that you did nothing wrong, and she won’t be mad at you, Lily dear.”

Her mother's reassurance helped, but her rose bush of worry wouldn’t be clear of its thorns until she spoke with you.

'Cause you were never mine

When the break was over, and Lily was about to board the train station to the red engine that is the Hogwarts Express, someone was waiting for her at the door to the train.

“My train doesn’t arrive until later,” you say plainly. “I wanted to get here earlier though, to speak with you.”

Lily feels like she’s breaking out in hives under your eyes, and it’s not a good feeling.

“James told me about how you didn’t know about me, how you wanted him to tell me sooner, didn’t want me to find out from tabloids like you did.” You smiled at her.

“It really hurt me when I found out. I didn’t want you to feel that way, but you still deserved to know. I’m just sorry you found out like that anyway.”

“James already boarded the train, but I wanted to let you know we’re no longer together if you still wanted to be with him,” you said meekly.

Lily’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. “Godric, no! He’s a git.”

You laughed.

“I know we may not be able to be friends, but maybe it’ll be better if we work through all of this together, all three of us,” Lily proposed.

“Yes, individually, dually, all together, doesn’t matter, it needs to be resolved.”

Lily sighed a breath of relief. “Somehow, I feel lighter.”

“Me too.”

As Lily was about to board the train, you called out to her. “Lily!”

She whipped her head to face you. “We can be friends if you’d like, you know.”

That made Lily smile, and honestly, it made her heart bloom with a vague, but familiar feeling.

#James Potter x reader #James Potter x Lily evans #James Potter imagines #James Potter angst #Lily Evans angst #Mauraders angst #Lily evans fluff #Lily Evans x reader

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emmies-archives · 3 years

Text

-Public | Hinata Shoyo-

fem!reader x sub-timeskip!hinata shoyo

Warnings: Nsfw, degradation, public sex, masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, punishment, dacryphilia, edging, getting caught, shower sex, implied threesome,

Summary: Your supposed to pick Hinata up from practice, except he’s made you wait over an hour, and he’s ignored your texts.

WC: 1.7k

A/N: ig im just fuckin thirsty as hell today... also this is unedited bc im lazy, once again, pls ignore typos.

-Hinata Shoyo-

Light shone into the car with each person that drove by as they left the parking lot you had been sitting in for nearly an hour now. Practice had ended over an hour ago, yet Hinata hadn’t come out of the gym yet.

It was normal for him to run late, but this was getting out of hand. He hadn’t even sent a single text to let you know what was going on.

Reading the last one you sent asking when he was coming out, a sigh left your lips when you noticed. He’d left you on read.

A part of you wanted to leave him at the gym, for him to find his own way back to your shared apartment; but you couldn’t. As badly as he deserved it, you had other plans for him.

This wasn’t the first time Hinata had done this either, sometimes he’d get so caught up in whatever he was doing he’d forget to even check his phone, let alone look at the time. You wanted to cut him some slack, but you had warned him once before.

Glancing at the doors once more, you took a slow breath in. Waiting for him to come out for one more minute. When there was no sign of him still, you turned the car off, heading towards the gym.

Hunting down your boyfriend was the last thing that you wanted to do, you were exhausted already. Your entire day had been draining, and you only wanted to go home and relax. But there you were, pushing the doors open, only to find the gym empty.

“Hello?”

Your voice bounced off the walls, echoing back to you loudly. Looking around, there was nothing showing anyone was still there, except for Hinata’s bag sitting alone across the room.

Just as you were crossing the gym toward the bag he slipped through a door, eyes wide when he noticed you. It took you a second to process that he was in front of you now, you weren’t exactly sure what to say, but you weren’t happy, and he could tell.

“Shoyo.” You narrowed your eyes slightly, crossing your arms over your chest. The simple movement made him drop his eyes as if he were trying to hide from your intense glare.

“Hi, y/n.” His voice was quiet, much quieter than his normal self. Shifting his weight as he spoke, eyes fixed on his bag.

You didn’t say anything else for a moment, not sure if you should even talk. You couldn’t tell if you were more upset at the fact he knew what he did or not. It was one thing to simply forget to send a message, but him purposefully ignoring your texts pissed you off.

“Are you, um.. are you okay?” He asked, slowly looking you in the eyes, a small look of concern sitting on features.

“I think I should be asking you that, Sho.” Tilting your head slightly, you stared at him waiting for him to explain why he took so long.

“I’m okay. I was just about to come meet you.”

That answer made your blood hot, you could barely hold back what you wanted to say in response. Closing your eyes for a moment, you tried calming yourself, even if was only a little.

“Oh, so you did know I was here.” You spoke lowly, holding him in your stare once more. He stiffened when you started walking toward him, eyes wide as your gripped the collar of his shirt, pulling him to look up at you.

“Are you mad-“

“Don’t pretend to be innocent, Sho. I know you read my text I sent nearly an hour ago.” Your lips pulled back into a sneer when he dropped his eyes from yours once more. Letting go of his shirt you took a step back, reading the label on the door from where he came, it was the showers.

Stepping around him he didn’t take his eyes off the floor as you walked to the door and pulled it open.

“Remember what I said last time you did this?” You didn’t even have to say anything else as you stepped into the hallway, he followed behind you quietly. You knew he remembered, but he probably wouldn’t answer on his own.

Hinata usually got quiet when you were upset, not wanting to make anything worse. He really did try to be good; it was just sometimes he got a little distracted.

“I hope none of your teammates are here, Sho, or they’re going to hear you whining like a little bitch soon.” Your voice dripped with the anger you felt, but it was steady, scarily calm.

Once you were in the showers, you spun on your heels slowly. In an instant his back was pressed against the cold tile, a small shiver running down his back as your hot breath fanned over his lips.

He didn’t want to look at you, but for some reason he couldn’t tear his eyes from yours. Even as you swiftly pushed down his gym shorts, a venom-soaked saccharine smile pulling at your lips.

He wasn’t sure what to do, or where to put his hands. Was he allowed to touch you? He probably didn’t deserve it, but he wanted to. Especially as your fingers wrapped around his slowly hardening length.

If the look in your eyes wasn’t on the forefront of his thoughts, he would’ve felt the burn of his cheeks at your touch, and gaze.

“You’re already pretty hard, Sho. What were you thinking about that got you so worked up?” You asked sweetly, the tone of your voice harshly contrasting your actions as you gripped his jaw, pulling him closer to your face. “Answer me.”

“Um, I don’t know, you’re just so… I can’t explain it.”

You nearly laughed at his answer, it was almost pathetic how he couldn’t resist you when he disobeyed you. It was like he did it on purpose, just so he could have you like this.

“You don’t know.. well if that’s the case, why don’t you get yourself off, hm? A little slut like you doesn’t even deserve me to touch them. Not after you made me wait as long as I did.” You leaned closer to him, your hand tightening on his neck as you did. Letting your grip on his cock go, raising an eyebrow as you waited for him to listen to you.

Slowly, after shutting his eyes for a moment, he gripped himself. Stroking his cock loosely, the blush deepening on his cheeks as he did. He hated this, he knew he didn’t deserve it but he wanted it to be your hand, desperately wanted to feel your touch again. He listened though, saying anything back to you would only make it worse.

“Awe, look how cute you are. Is it embarrassing touching yourself in front of me?” He whined softly when you pushed closer to him, barely brushing against his length as he sped up his hand. Trying to mimic your expert movements, how you seemed to always make him melt as you touched him.

It was nothing like how you did it though, nothing close to the pleasure he felt when your pretty fingers were wrapped around his aching cock, pumping him just right. His eyes fluttered shut, not being able to look into yours anymore.

“No, no shutting your eyes. I want you to see me watch you pathetically touch yourself, I thought you could do it better, or am I the only one who can make you feel good like that, hm?” You pulled away from him when he opened his eyes again, watching as he changed his pace slowing down once more. Trying to find something that felt similar to what he was searching for.

Tears of frustration were starting to prick his eyes mixing with the embarrassment pooling in his chest. You weren’t surprised when they spilled over, slipping down his cheeks. The satisfied grin on your face only pushing his embarrassed crying further, needy whines slipping from his throat, but he kept stroking himself. Eyes screwing shut once more as he tried to stop the tears from coming.

You were about to say something else, maybe let him stop when you were interrupted. The loud creaking of the door opening sounded once more, followed by loud heavy footsteps.

Hinata’s eyes flew open, and he looked to you with wide eyes, you only smiled and moved closer to him, enough to shield him if needed.

“Hinata! You in here?” A loud voice called out, and you recognized it almost immediately. Not even giving him a chance to respond, Bokuto stepped around the corner. You moved away from Hinata again, giving Bokuto a clear view of him.

“Hey, Bo.” You smiled at the larger man as if there was nothing going on, his wide eyes flicked between you and Hinata several times, trying hard to not look at the redhead’s hand.

“Y/n, what are you doing in here?” Bokuto’s voice was quiet, nearly a whisper when he asked it.

“Teaching Hinata a lesson. You wouldn’t happen to know why he was here so late, would you?” You asked slowly, raising an eyebrow when Bokuto shook his head rapidly, you definitely didn’t believe him. Especially with the blush that spread across his cheeks. “Hm, well you’re free to stay if you want. I’m sure Hinata wouldn’t mind, would you baby?”

Hinata let out a shaky breath, like he had been holding it in since Bokuto arrived. Forcing himself to look at the tall man, barely meeting his eyes. Shaking his head, he didn’t quite trust his voice yet, not with the obvious tent growing in Bokuto’s shorts.

Seeing Hinata with his head tilted against the tile, tears spilling down his cheeks as he gripped his cock, it was something he thought he’d never see. Bokuto could hardly look at you now, there was an edge in the tone of your voice he’d never heard before, it scared him slightly.

Raking your eyes down Hinata’s form, you shook your head slightly, catching his attention once more.

“I didn’t tell you to stop, Shoyo. Show Bokuto just how much of a slut you are, and maybe I’ll think about touching you myself, okay?”

tags: @bummie @beelziee @bunny-xoxo @ultimate-astridwriting

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu!!#shoyo hinata #hinata smut #haikyuu thirsts #hinata x reader #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shoyo imagine #Kotaro bokuto #bokuto smut #haikyuu bokuto #Ems-thirsting #haikyuu #[ 🎞 ] — anihaven

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insert-cleverurl · 3 years

Text

solaine copies her dsmp meta twitter part one

preface: i wrote this on february 13th and am now archiving it over here on tumblr before i get around posting it to the actual archive (of our own). i'd like to clean it up before i go there, becuase i wrote this at like one am lying in bed and typing on my laptop that was sitting on my stomach. it's a lot of rambling. i go on a lot of tangents. it is not the cleanest nor likely most accurate meta you will ever read.

how characters (children) on the smp learn from history rather than repeat it: a thread

aka: stop liking the other one you fucks i opened the wikia so i actually know what happened now /lh

context here is that i had earlier made a much less coherent thread (not that this one is very coherent) with the caveat that i was going entirely off memory

this thread is mainly going over how tommy + tubbo both emulate and turned away from wilbur + schlatt respectively, and how i think that's going to reflect in ranboo's arc

"as long as i can't be the next jschlatt, you can't be the next wilbur." okay we all know this. it's obvious from this point on that both tubbo and tommy saw or had fears of how they were each developing into scarily familiar people - schlatt, a dictator, and wilbur, a madman.

starting with tommy, the parallels between his exile arc and wilbur's pogtopia arc are immediately, and glaringly, obvious. paranoia, trust issues, "maybe i'm actually the bad guy here", and most notably, intense loneliness. wilbur made it obvious he believed pogtopis's allies would all abandon them in the end (them being he and tommy, though how much he trusted tommy by the end is also up in the air), and he was completely prepared to kill anyone he had to in order to secure pogtopia's victory, despite also preparing himself to be the one to end it. wilbur gave up on l'manberg, at the very end. he believed tyranny was all that would ever reign, so he blew it up.

tommy, in his exile arc, was also despairingly lonely. he hallucinated tubbo, grew attached to dream, etc etc. tommy was very very close to "becoming" wilbur here (god i'm sorry this is so long already and just me summing things up we already know it's to keep my thoughts in order + satisfy my inability to shut up and use too many words)

where wilbur and tommy go their separate ways is when they were given an out. dream gave wilbur tnt + for tommy, he was. you know. gestures vaguely at logstedshire. wilbur took the out - he gave up. he gave in. we know he had moments of clarity (when niki was in danger) and Maybe this was one he could've had too, but he didn't. he took the tnt.

tommy decided enough was enough. so at a crucial moment in time, tommy turned away from being wilbur. he did not repeat history.

onto tubbo; admittedly i know much less about his arc as president so this will be less outlined. tubbo,,,, acted very similarly to schlatt. probably moreso than tommy and wilbur! strange new laws, ignoring his cabinet, execution, generally appearing to lose his care for the world and the opinions of others. i'd argue the thing that separates him from schlatt is the most important part of this thread, because it proves my point: he remembered.

i just want to clarify here: by "proves my point" i mean this is the clsoest we get to an agreement of the ideas i'm putting out here in canon?? ig?? as in like. this is the most on the nose way to say it. similarly in recent days to quackity consistently referring to his treatment of dream as torture, which seems to be a very "I Am Not In Character" move but is definitely meant for us, the viewers, rather than character dream or character quackity themselves. tubbo's is a little less like that but still it's kind of like pointing at the X on a map for us the viewers. ok tangent over

tubbo lived under schlatt's rule as one of those people he treated extremely shittily. he lived under schlatt's rule as that person he executed. and tubbo remembers all that! tubbo remembers how schlatt's rule played out, and he looks at his own uh, less than stellar time in office, and he admits this out loud (to ranboo, according to the wikia. i am getting all of this off the wikia. i did not watch any streams during this arc.) that he can See himself becoming schlatt.

and when quackity tries to execute ranboo for being a traitor, tubbo stops him.

onto dream and ranboo! dream is a special case in that we never get to see his perspective of things and are rather left to play fill in the blank, and this whole arc is special (in terms of this thread) in that it isn't over. so i will be doing a lot of extrapolating here.

dream starts out as a generally ambivalent character who has very few rules that he pretty much never bothers to enforce anyways (i think? i don't remember).

by this i mean, this is all stuff i heard secondhand in recent months and can no longer remember what it actually was because i never went back to check. i'm pretty sure, but just a disclaimer. i don't wanna get hit with an "um, actually

his villain arc starts very very early - two whole seasons before he really became one. in the war, he is the antagonist and he plays up to it! most of the war is from l'manberg's pov (or that's how we look at it now, at least) so obviously he is the Bad Guy here.

ranboo griefed a house like two days into the server. 'nuff said /lh

ranboo + dream are both heavily vilified characters from the get-go - dream's part should be fairly obvious (uh, the everything leading up the exile arc where he actually did villainous things), whereas ranboo's is most notably during the second festival's aftermath. taking the blame for blowing up the community house, wanting to "pick people not sides" (he wants all his friends to be happy - sounds familiar, right?), etc etc, and now he's with techno and phil, the former of which is Definitely considered a villain for working with dream

now many many parallels are being drawn between he and dream, especially with the whole enderwalking thing. in the aftermath of everything happening, he chooses to stay out of all conflict, until Something Happens and forces his hand. (the egg!) he wants peace for everyone, which again, sounds very familiar, right?

(slight tangent: yes, the griefing was forcing dream's hand. it's nigh impossible to construe it as anything other than a political attack - the vice president of l'manberg griefing the home of the greater dream smp's king? dream looks weak + open to attack if he lets it slide)

this was a bad way to put it but the spirit of it gets across i think. fuck character limit on twitter

that catches us up on all current lore. where do i think dream and ranboo are going to split? dream has been alone in his decision-making basically since the very first war. not once has he (successfully, we don't know if he tried) gone to fall back on his friends' support and ask for their help in making these hard decisions (of which there are many). he severs his final connections ("i don't care about anything on this server") and cements his place in history as a monster.

i think it is very likely that we are getting a ranboo "friendship and relying on other people" arc here. there are other ways they could go with it, obviously, but given his current arctic anarchist ties and what appears to be other friendships developing. hmm! i'm interested. this part is entirely speculation/extrapolation. point being. the kids on the smp do, in fact, learn from history. they still make mistakes sometimes, but past a certain point, they're always different mistakes. they learn, and they almost always get happier endings for it

i don't know if it's a coincidence that it's the three lore-relevant kids who are the ones doing this. i don't think it is, because this is a very well-written and clever story. the younger generation is the one learning and fixing past mistakes and leaving the world better off for it. that's very neat! i like it a lot. also now that purpled's becoming lore-relevant, goddamnit if i don't want to see next season being his "learning from history" arc. punz vs purpled, maybe? that'd be neat. who knows. ok i think im finally done lol ty for reading :)

caveat I forgot to add last night: obviously ranboo and dream start out in very different positions, moreso than both tommy and tubbo. but at the end of the day, all three of them are their own people who just happen to take after other people in some ways :)

again, ty for reading! here's the original thread. i'd like to add that this is probably out of date and i may come back to it some day but who knows. maybe this will just be a relic of before Now (may 25)

#solaine's dsmp meta #dsmp #dsmp meta #c!tommy #c!ranboo #c!tubbo #tommyinnit #ranboo #tubbo #schlatt #c!schlatt #c!dream #dream #c!wilbur #wilbur

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rocketink · 4 years

Text

Jerk (Part I)

If you had to describe your old friend Choi Seungheol, you would chose many adjectives, but nothing describes him better than the word “jerk”, he’s a greedy jerk.

pairing: choi seungcheol x reader

genre: angst + fluff (enemies to lovers)

wc: 1.4k

warnings: mentions of alcohol, parties and getting overwhelmed at parties ig? + some curse words ig

notes: I’M SO GLAD I WROTE SOMETHING FINALLY. I’m sorry for being inactive, I’ll try to work on that while I can:). This is the first part out of 2 or 3 maybe, I’m not really sure, but imma need you to tell me if you like it pweasee:(

You fill your plastic glass with what young people call 'liquid of courage' and you walk straight to where Mingyu, Jisoo, Joshua, and Taehyung (your friends) stand. Oh, how you were longing for a good party. Final exams hit hard and you had spent more time studying than you would have liked to, but results were worth it. You managed to score first in almost every subject, and your record was immaculate. Sill, you were not completely satisfied with that one subject you scored second, because your record would have been indefectible but mainly because the person who scored higher than you was none other than Choi Seungcheol.

But he's not worth talking about, not right now that you are about to enjoy yourself.

"Look who we have here! It's our class' brain!" Mingyu jokes.

You roll your eyes, but you imitate him when he raises his glass to make a toast in your honor.

"I'm flattered and all that but let's drop it here guys"

"Y/n is probably mad because there’s this person that has a higher rank than her in her favorite subject" Joshua hums loud enough to be heard.

"Shut up, It’s not it!"

"As if you hadn't been fighting Seungheol for the same reason for a full year" Jisoo rolls her eyes smiling "we're done with college, Y/n, you can relax now"

You are about to complain, but Taehyung changes topics faster.

"Where is him now by the way?"

"He said he was coming like twenty minutes ago" Joshua checks his phone "he should be here already, maybe something is keeping him entertained"

"I'll go find Jeonghan, it's been a while since the last time I talked to him" Your friends nod and you get lost in the crowd looking for the blond-haired boy. Jeonghan is also a friend of your friend's group, but he's always been closer to you. Besides, you don't want to be there when Seungheol arrives.

Talking to him today? Nah.

“Y/n! Welcome! I thought you would be with your friends and I was about to visit you” Jeonghan greets you, immediately making some room on the old couch he is sitting for you.

“I’m glad I was faster than you, then. I wanted to greet you and Soonyoung, Hansol, and Seungkwan if they are around” You name all of Jeonghan’s best friend, but not his entire friend group.

Jeonghan is a social butterfly.

“They are around here, yeah, I just don’t know where”

You frown.

“Then why are you here alone?” You stay quiet for full five seconds until the realization hits you “don’t tell me I’ve ruined a date of yours”

He laughs hard at your blushing cheeks.

“No, absolutely not. We’re at a party, this is not the mood for dates. Soonyoung went to the bathroom, Hansol is getting himself a drink and Seungkwan is dancing. The rest of our friend group is about to arrive, don’t worry, I was just waiting”

“Oh, thank god” You sigh in relief. Jeonghan has been single for a long time now, as far as you know, it would have been astonishing to see him on a date at a party. You feel like a fool.

“Well, I guess I have to congratulate you on your grades” He smirks.

“Grades are nothing to congratulate for, though. But thank you, I appreciate it”

“I’ve heard that Seungcheol has beat you in one subject” When you close your eyes, annoyed at the Seungheol topic, Jeonghan knows he has finally discovered the reason why you visited him as soon as possible. “He is coming to the party too, right?”

“So I’ve heard. He must be here already”

“That’s why you’re here?”

“No! I didn’t want to see him today, true, but I also wanted to visit my dear friend”

Jeonghan smiles, like the angel he is and gives you a short hug.

“You can stay with us if you want to. You know you are always welcome here.”

“Thank you, I will. You’re a good friend”

“Oh, I know” Jeonghan spots Hansol and urges him to come to your side. He complies when he sees you are with him.

“Thank god I brought more than one can of beer. Y/n, you want some?” You take one can, thanking the younger boy.

“What brings you here?” Hansol asks.

“Choi Seungheol” Jeonghan jumps in. You don’t bother to correct him.

Hansol makes a pity smile and nods.

“Now that we are about to be completely drunk and we are not going to remember it” Jeonghan starts “will you mind telling us what happened?”

You want to tell him, but it’s not worthy. Too many memories to bring back, and you are supposed to have fun tonight, right? Summer is about to start and you will finally move to Seoul and get lost, that’s the only thing that matters.

“He’s just a jerk” You sum up “it’s not worth talking about it, maybe some other time”

Jeonghan and Hansol get that you don’t want to talk about it and just drop the topic. You are glad they did.

You are long into the party when it happens.

You really want to go to the bathroom but someone is on the inside and it’s taking them so long to go out (at least there is not a line to walk into the bathroom, or else you wouldn’t be able to take it). You knock on the door again and, finally, you receive a response.

“Wait a second, please!” You recognize that voice. There is no way you wouldn’t.

“Seungheol?”

“Y/n?” He answers through the door.

It’s him. You’ve been avoiding him all the party for this?

“What is taking you so long, god! Are you even doing something?” He knows you’re pissed, he can sense it in your voice. Still, he can’t let you in and see him like this.

“No” He answers truthfully “but please, go”

That only angers you more.

“Seungcheol I’m about to open the door”

“Please no!”

“At the count to three!” You ignore him “One…”

No response.

“Two…”

No response again.

“Three…” The door was not locked when you turn the doorknob. At this moment, there is nothing that stops you from being face to face with him. Still, you don’t find him standing in the middle of the bathroom, where you thought he would be. You immediately notice the silhouette behind the curtains of the bathtub. He seems to be squatted down, hugging himself. You peek through the curtains and there he is.

He looks small, he is indeed hugging himself and you notice he has been crying. His cheeks are still wet and a bit colored, his eyes look puffy. He is still pouting.

“Why did you come in?” He asks you. You didn’t notice it before, but his voice sounds lower than usual, and a bit broken.

“You didn’t stop me, and I need to pee” He smiles a little. You didn’t want to be funny, but you are still glad he is smiling.

“I’ll go outside”

“Why are you here?” You ignore him. He knows he can’t lie, not to you. You would know.

“It’s just that… Today’s been a bad day. I don’t feel like partying and there is not a single calm place in this house” You nod a couple of times, analyzing his words.

“Are you just going to walk down there again?” You ask.

Idiot, you shouldn’t worry about him. He never did.

“I am. I have no other choice”

You sigh. He can’t walk down there and you don’t want to party anymore. He may be drunk, but he looks completely sober, maybe you are the drunk one here because you say…

“Wait for me outside, this house has a rooftop, Jeonghan told me downstairs, I know how to get there and he said people don’t go there at parties so we’ll be alone. I’ll be there in a minute”

He looks stupefied but does not complain. When you go outside he looks composed. He doesn’t look small now, but the tall, handsome man he’s always been. His hands are in his pockets, his hair looks messy and a little curly, just like you always liked it. He looks up and his eyes meet yours, his eyes have always said more than he ever would tell, and right now they are thanking you. They are not red anymore.

Your heart skips a beat, you had forgotten the effect this jerk had on you.

#caratwritersclub #seventeen x reader #scoups x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #scoups fluff #scoups angst #seventeen imagines #scoups imagines #seventeen au #scoups au #seventeen scenario #scoups scenario #seventeen fanfic #scoups fanfic #seventeen series #scoups series #seventeen drabble #scoups drabble

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kumoriyami-xiuzhen · 3 years

Text

Hakuoki Yuugiroku 2 - Harada Sakura Epilogue

This is my first post of the month, so I’ll start by asking you to please support me if you can through my ko-fi, and paypal or patreon which provides access to my hakuoki blog translations and early access to my postings. Also, please let me know if you have any hakuoki drama cds that you’d be willing to share that are on my Lookout List since i either do not have audio for those cds or do not have audio that I can share…. and if you are able to remove watermarks from a video, please contact me….

Well it’s Canada Day. Hope everyone is staying safe during this time (especially if you’re out West with the heat), and while I could probably write an essay about how I can understand why people will take issue of fireworks and parties today, I don’t exactly think that’s the best way to address the issues going on, though I do feel somewhat compelled to say something. I mean, I’m of an ethnic descent where the immigrants of my common ancestry were subjected to a head tax and were actively targeted by the government for discrimination, so I do have some historical justification for not wanting this particular day celebrated. However, at the same time, it’s because I acknowledge that more than one generation of my family (and on both sides of my family tree) immigrated to this country that my family and relatives have been given opportunities none of us would have had otherwise, or have had the same rights, that I truly appreciate living in Canada, and I know that other people will have similar reasons for doing the same... which is also why I refuse to be an ignorant citizen. I guess that’s partially owed to how I acknowledge that I’m realistic in knowing what change I can affect, but beyond that, I do see it is part of my civic duty to be educated about what happens in the country I live in because I just can’t pretend that everything is all sunshine and rainbows... So, today, like most of the other Canada Days I can recall, I reflect on how grateful I am to be a citizen of the country I call home, and how thankful I am in knowing how far it has come, but I also acknowledge that it still has plenty of flaws and that there are things that still need to be changed so the country is better for “all of us” instead of just ‘some of us’.

Anyway, this month’s translations are all from Yuugiroku 2.... and this is is my only translation of 『恋秘めし日』 content since I was never able to find any more of these as copy-able text.

Also, on a lighter note, i can’t believe it’s been more than a decade since i actually watched an anime. i mean, i’m normally satisfied with just reading the manga for something, but my cravings for yuumori content actually drove me to the anime (mostly good and while it was full of feels, im upset that IG cut out the adventure of one student from the anime)... which feels somewhat odd when i consider how ive yet to watch the hakuoki anime or movies. still, for hakuoki, my desire for more content did lead to 2 years of translating lol.

Hakuoki Yuugiroku 2 - Harada Sakura Epilogue

Translation by KumoriYami

At the end of our conversation, I took a light breath and raised my head.

A gust of wind then blew, and the leaves over our heads made rustling sounds.

Chizuru: The sunlight is very strong today.

Harada: Yeah. It's nice that the weather's finally cleared up, but...... the hot weather in Kyoto, and this moisture really feels unbearable.

Chizuru: That's true......

As I spoke, I turned my gaze back towards Harada-san......

Chizuru: Ah......

This numbness in my head felt like an illusion.

Was it because I spent so long talking under such fierce sunlight.

I seemed to be feeling a bit dizzy.

Harada: Hey, are you okay? You don't look very good. Are you feeling unwell/sick / Do you feel sick/unwell? ?

Chizuru: I-I'm fine. I just feel a bit cold......

I didn’t want him to feel worried, so I responded with a smile/smiled as I answered——.

My legs however seemed to have lost their strength, and the view in front of me/everything around me began to blur.

Just as I was about to fall and hit the ground.

Harada: Oi, Chizuru, get a hold of yourself!

My swaying body was caught by a pair of strong hands.

Then in that moment/A moment later——.

Suddenly, Harada-san's face became incredibly closer to mine

Manly eyebrows, slender eyes, and even each individual eyelash could be seen at his distance.

Due to how sudden this was, I couldn't say anything as/while my mouth/lips trembled/ and only my mouth was opening and closing/mouth was in a state of opening and closing.

The heat from where our foreheads were touching, and how Harada-san's hand was touching my back were the only things that I was completely aware of.

Harada:......For now, let's check your temperature...... Nn.

Chizuru: Wh-What, Harada-san...... what are you doing......!

I felt/was so embarrassed and could only/was only able to squeeze out that one sentence.

Harada: Recently, a cold’s been going around headquarters. I'm worried that you might have caught/gotten it/infected by it/with it.

Chizuru: Is, is that so......

Harada-san did that because he was worried about me......

Chizuru: Um, Harada-san. I feel fine/I'm [feeling] fine, so......

Harada-san's expression however became very serious, and he spoke harshly/rebukingly.

Harada: What a stupid thing to say. What are you going to do if you get sick/If you get sick, what are you going to do? Although there's a saying about how doctors don't pay attention to their own health...... it wouldn't be funny if you got sick, as the daughter of a doctor. Besides, if you get sick, you might also pass it on to the others warriors.

That's true...... I couldn't bear to trouble the other warriors with my problems.

Chizuru:......I'm sorry, Harada-san.

I closed my eyes and desperately tried to supress my embarrassment as I allowed Harada-san to continue.

His forehead remained against mine for a while as he checked my temperature, and finally/but eventually......

Harada:......I'm done, Chizuru. You don't seem to have a fever, and you can open your eyes now.

Harada-san spoke softly as he gently brushed my forehead with his fingers.

Harada: For now, you don't seem to have a cold, so don't worry. As long as you get sufficient rest, you should get better."

Chizuru: I, I see/Ye-Yes. Thank you......

I felt incredibly embarrassed...... I didn't dare look at Harada-san as I bowed my head in thanks.

Then, he showed a deliberate and teasing smile——.

Harada:......But why do you seem to be hotter now than before I took your temperature?

Chizuru: Th-That's because......!

Despite how he clearly knew the reason, he deliberately asked me such a nasty question......

I didn't know how to answer that, so/and I lowered head as I continued blushing/to blush.

Harada: Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to tease you on purpose.

As he spoke, he put his large palm on top of my head.

Harada:.......Is it time for us to head back now? I don't know if you've been instructed to do anything/told to do something.

I......

continued chatting

brought this to an end <-

Chizuru: We've been talking for a while, so it should be time to return to to headquarters.

Harada: That's true/right. Though, I wish we could still continue this.

However, is it okay for you to go back to headquarters like this? Your entire face is very red.

Chizuru: It, it should get back to normal by the time we return to headquarters..... Can we take a small detour? My face/complexion should be back to normal after that.

Harada: Well, that might true. But I don't want to see getting dizzy again. So don't force yourself/overdo it.

Chizuru: So-Sorry......

Harada: Don't worry about it. If you’re having a hard time, you can hold onto me

As Harada-san spoke, he stroked my hair.

Harada: Then let's go back to headquarters, Chizuru. Everyone will be/is waiting for us.

Chizuru:......Yes.

While listening to my still intensely beating heart, Harada-san and I started walking back to headquarters.

-end-

one of these days, I am going to go watch the new Shaman King anime... though im not sure when that’ll be.

also... for the record, I learned about the Sixties Scoop and residential schools sometime around 2004, when i was still in elementary school so I can unfortunately say that most of the news these days hasn’t really surprised me... and it’s also why I have a very negative bias towards certain entities.

#Hakuoki #hakuouki #hakuoki game translation #hakuoki yuugiroku 2 #harada sanosuke #Yukimura Chizuru

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b0n-chann · 4 years

Text

YOU GUYS. I’m so sorry I let this one sit for so long. BUT WE’RE HERE MY DUDES. Special thank you to @tiffdawg for the motivation I needed to finish this and I’m so glad I did. My mind would wonder to this story from time to time, trying to decide how I wanted to finish this series and I’m glad I finally found the time to do it. So please enjoy and sorry again for such a long hiatus!

To Love and Protect ( Part 4)

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader

Warnings: none really, just typical violence and some good old fluff 😘

The lava river was your only way out and it never seemed to end. Flames lick the side of the ferry from time to time as it travels through the molten rock and you look on in amazement. You never knew that such things existed. Granted, you didn’t know many wonders in the galaxy existed before you met the Mandalorian. You hold the child a little tighter to you and he looks up, flashing you a toothy grin.

“That’s right, sweet thing,” you coo, comforting the small bundle in your arms. “We’re almost out of here.” Din places an arm around your shoulder, admiring his small clan before him.

“That’s it,” Karga points to the end. “We’re free!”

“No. No we’re not,” Din says steadily, the thermal imaging in his helmet detecting several life forms. “Storm troopers. They’re flanking the mouth of the tunnel. It looks like an entire platoon. They must’ve known we were coming.”

The child seems to register the tone in Din’s voice as his ears droop immediately, worry filling his inky black eyes. The child clings on to you tightly and you hold him closer to you, a comfort for both you and him. You are exhausted, mentally and physically, but you know you can’t back down now. There’s too much at stake.

“Stop the boat,” Cara orders the ferry droid. “I said stop the boat!” Frustrated, she stalks over to the droid who continues to push the group forward. “Hey! I’m talking to you!” In a moment of frustration she pulls out her blaster and shoots the droid, its head flying from its body. The ferry, however, does not slow down, creeping forward towards your group’s demise.

“We’re still moving,” Karga says, looking around for another way out. But there is none. The lava river surrounds you from all sides and it continues to flow to the end of the tunnel, slowly bringing you closer what you thought is your escape, but now the uncertainty looms over all of you.

“Looks like we fight,” Cara says, preparing herself for the stormtroopers.

“There are too many.” Din tries to reason, however he, too, realizes that they are running out of options. He brings you closer to him on instinct, placing himself between you and the end of the tunnel.

“Then what do you suggest? Cause I can’t surrender.” Cara snaps. She holds a blaster out to you and you readily accept. The power in her voice is enough to steel your resolve once again.

“They will not be satisfied with anything less than the child,” you hear IG-11’s voice from beside you. You close your eyes in realization. But you couldn’t; you couldn’t give the child up. “This is unacceptable. I will eliminate the enemy and you will escape.”

“You don’t have that kind of firepower, pal. You wouldn’t even get to daylight.”

“That is not my objective.”

“We’re getting close. Saddle up.” Cara scrambles around the ferry, gathering every gun she could get her hands on, preparing herself for the worst.

“I still have the security protocols from my manufacturer. If my designs are compromised, I must self destruct.” Your blood runs cold when you hear IG make this statement. It dawns on you then, that the droid means to sacrifice himself.

“What are you talking about?” Din demands. However, you know he must realize what IG is planning to do.

“I am not permitted to be captured. I must be destroyed.”

“IG...” you start but realize quickly you have no idea what to say.

“It is alright, miss.” The droid gives you a quick glance before bringing his attention back to the Mandalorian. “I can no longer carry this for you,” he hands over the jetpack the Armorer had bestowed to Din earlier. “Nor can I watch over the child.”

“Wait, you can’t just self destruct,” you argue, panic setting in. Yes, IG was a droid but you had grown to care for him in your time together. “Your base command is to watch the child.”

“That supersedes you’re manufacturer’s protocol, right?” Din asks. He also seems unsettled by the plan the droid has laid out before you.

“This is correct.”

“Good. Now, grab a blaster and help us shoot our way out.”

“Victory through combat is impossible. We will be captured. The child will be lost. Sadly, there is no scenario where the child is saved, in which I survive.”

“Listen, you’re not going anywhere. We need you, let’s just come up with a...” Din starts, trying to reason with the droid which catches you by surprise. For as long as you’ve known the bounty hunter, he has never shown any compassion for droids.

“Please tell me the child will be safe in your care. If you do so, I can default to my secondary command.”

“But you’ll be destroyed.”

“And you will live, and I will have served my purpose.” Your heart aches when you hear IG say this. Even though you know droids do not have feelings, it almost seems as if IG cares for all of you.

“No.” Din refuses. “We need you.”

“There is nothing to be sad about. I have never been alive.” The droid’s intention had been set and you know there’s no way to change it. Tears threaten to escape your eyes.

“I’m not sad.” Din lies, the pain evident in his voice, even through the modulator.

“Yes, you are. I am a nurse droid. I’ve analyzed your voice.” You’re not sure if you want to laugh or cry at their interaction. IG turns towards you and the child and affectionately touches one of the child’s ears. “Miss, please continue to protect the child. A mother is the fiercest warrior to behold and you were a vicious companion to have. The Mandalorian will do well to remember that if he so chooses to hurt you again. I hope I served you well.” You bark out a sad laugh at his words. The short amount of time you spent with the droid was enough to endear him to you and your heart breaks knowing what will happen next.

“Thank you, IG.” You say softly and he places a hand on your shoulder which provides you a small comfort. He turns and walks into the lava, and you watch as he struggles to make his way out. Din draws you and the child closer to him as you watch the droid leave the tunnel. He doesn’t say anything but you imagine a sad frown marring his features. You whimper and press your face into the crook of his neck as you watch the droid self destruct, effectively taking out the platoon and securing a way out for your group.

“IG did this for us,” Din soothes. “He did this for the child. We’re almost out of here.” His words are reassuring but you still feel slightly uneasy, the feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. Somehow, now, this all seemed too easy.

The light is blinding as you exit the tunnel and you have to squint to take a look around. Stormtroopers litter the ground looking like broken toys, obviously having lost against IG-11′s destruction. An engine roaring overhead captures everyone’s attention, and a tie fighter comes into view. “Moff Gideon!” Cara yells. The engine’s roar is so deafening, it almost brings you to your knees. Everyone takes aim at the ship, unleashing hell as he flies overhead before disappearing once again behind the mountain line. “He missed!” Karga exclaims.

“He won’t next time. Our blasters are useless against him.” Din replies, knowing that he has to think up of something quickly to get out of this safely. He’s already put you and the child in too much danger already.

“How about your girl and the baby? Make them do the magic thing again?” Karga waves his hand in front of the child and it takes your entire being to keep yourself from rolling your eyes. “Do the magic hand thing!” The child laughs as he waves back at the man happily, not understanding the severity of the situation. Karga looks at you in exasperation. “Well, I’m out of ideas.”

“I’m not.” Din says, pulling the jetpack from beside him. He attaches the heavy equipment to his back, the pack seeming to magnetize onto his armor easily. Before you can even stop him, he takes off, launching straight into the air as the Moff’s tie fighter dives over your group again. It’s almost impossible to see Din from the ground, but you realize he’s harpooned himself to the ship. You can barely watch as he whips around like a kite behind the ship before they disappear behind the mountains again.

“Cara!” you exclaim, and the shock trooper looks over to you. She sits you down immediately, noticing the color drained from your face.

“Hey, hey” she appeases, attempting to calm you down. “He’s gonna be fine. He’s got...he’s got too much to lose now.” She looks over you and the child. Her words do little to calm you down, and you feel your power simmering just under the surface, ready to burst out of control. Cara seems to understand and tries to reason with you again. “Look, you can’t do that right now. If Moff Gideon finds out you’ve got weirdo powers too, they’ll chase you until the end of time.” She places both of her hands on your shoulders and gives you a slight shake. “Please,” she tries one more time. “For the kid and for Mando.”

Her statement grounds you and brings you back. You nod your head slowly. “I’m okay.” Cara looks at you in relief for a moment, before you both jump at the explosion overhead and watch as the Moff’s tie fighter crashes in the distance. More importantly, you watch as the Mandalorian makes a less than graceful descent back to the ground. You take off in a sprint towards him.

“Don’t ever do that again!” You yell at him, hitting your fists pathetically against his battered cuirass. Din allows you the moment before enveloping you into his arms. “I’m sorry,” he offers weakly. “But I had to protect you both.”

“Maybe some notice would have been nice!” You stamp your foot down in frustration and Din can only laugh. You’re about as ferocious as a baby ewok. Cara and Karga make their way behind you, the realization that everything is over finally creeping in. Karga promises the pick of the quarries to Din upon his return back to the guild while Cara states that she intends to stay on Nevarro for the time being to help with any stragglers.

“Take care of them, will you?” Cara says to Din as she shakes his hand, and wraps you in a tight embrace before rubbing the child’s ear affectionately.

“Or maybe, they’ll take care of you.” Karga offers. Din looks down to you and the child once more before nodding to the both of them. You offer a small wave to Karga and Cara before Din lightly pulls on your hand.

“Ready?” He asks.

“For what?” You look up at him, confusion in your eyes. Din bends over swiftly, cradling you behind the knees as he picks you back up. “Wait, are we...” You don’t even get to finish your sentence as he takes off into the air. You shut your eyes tightly, completely taken off guard. You feel a low rumbling in Din’s chest as your bury your face into his shoulder even more. “No fair!” you snap at him. But he continues to laugh, a full bodied laugh that wraps around you like the finest fabric, warming you from head to toe.

“Open your eyes, Beautiful.” Din’s voice is full of happiness. “Trust me.”

You open one eye, and then the other, and the view below you is magnificent. The desert plains seems to stretch on for miles, the sand glittering below you. You never considered the oppressive desert terrain to be your favorite but the view is undeniably beautiful. You hold the child closer to you as he also looks on in wonder, chittering away happily in your arms.

As quickly as you are in the air, you begin to feel Din descend as the Crest comes into view. He brings you back to the ground smoothly, the roar of his jetpack slowly diminishing to a dull rumble. Carefully, he places you back down on your feet and looks you over, assessing you for any injuries.

“I’m fine,” you promise him but you know he won’t be satisfied until he’s completely checked you over so you wait patiently. Happy with his assessment, he pulls you tightly to him, the child settling in between you.

“I’m sorry. I never should have put you through any of this. I never should have left you on Arvala-7. I shouldn’t have lied to you,” he explains. As much as you want to tell him he is forgiven, you allow him to apologize; to start new for the both of you. His hands come up to your face, his thumbs caressing your cheekbones tenderly. “I am so, so, sorry. I hope I can earn your forgiveness.”

You place your own hand on the side of his helmet. “You are already forgiven.” Din, once again, gathers you and the child to him, as if holding the most precious treasures in the world. And to him, you both are.

Although exhausted, you and Din give Kuiil a proper burial. After placing one final rock on his grave, Din places the ugnaught’s old leather helmet on top, marking his grave. You both stand there for a few quiet moments, fingers intertwined, as you send off your final thoughts to Kuill. You thank him one last time for protecting the child with his life and hope that he can rest peacefully.

You both make your way back to the Razor Crest and head into the cockpit where the child is waiting in his pod, going between playing with his silver ball and chewing on Din’s mythosaur pendant. “Hello, little thing.” You greet the child as you take a seat next to him. He instantly holds up both arms, making grabbing motions with his hands in a demand to be picked up. You let out a light laugh and indulge the child, cradling him to your chest. A feeling of relief washes over you, something you haven’t felt since before Karga sent his message to Din.

Din takes in the scene before him and has never felt more greater joy than in this moment. However, he knows that he can be even happier, if he could just gain the courage to do so.

“A Mandalorian is able to show his face to his clan,” Din hesitates, his eyes trained on your face and watches you break your gaze away from the child in your arms as you look to him. He sees a beautiful smile grace your lips and his breath is taken away.

“Din, that’s wonderful.” You take one of his hands in yours and give him a squeeze before handing the child off to him. “I’m sure the child will be so excited to know what his father looks like beneath the helm.” You move to get up, hoping to give Din and the child some time to themselves. However, as you try to take a step away, Din holds you firmly in your place and you look back to him, slightly confused.

“I’ll just be...” you attempt to explain but he cuts you off.

“You misunderstand me, Beautiful,” he starts again nervously. “A Mandalorian’s clan includes his children, foundlings,” Din takes a big breath before leaving his pilot’s chair and kneeling before you, “and also his wife.” He takes his hand away for just a moment to remove something from his side. You peer over through watery eyes but he returns to face towards you again before you can see what he was searching for. He presents to you a simple chain with a mudhorn to match the one on his pauldron. Din Djarin’s clan signet.

“You are everything to me. Never, not even in my dreams, did I think I’d ever find someone like you. I had resigned myself to traveling the galaxy alone, getting by from planet to planet. I only existed before you. But you have shown me how to live, Beautiful. And if you will have me, it is my greatest wish to live each day with you, side by side, for all the days that we have. I have loved you for longer than you know, and I will love you even after my last breath.”

Happy tears flow freely from your eyes and you wrap your arms around him and the child. You nod your head yes and the Mandalorian lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He clasps the necklace around your neck and he lays his hand over it where it rests on your chest.

“How does one marry a Mandalorian?” You muse.

“Just a few spoken words, a promise between the two of us to bind us together as one,” Din murmurs against you, still dazed at the fact that you said yes.

“Here then, right now,” you urge but you can sense hesitation from the man before you. “Unless...that’s not okay? I know I must look awful...” you trail off but are quickly cut off.

“No! No. You are always a vision of beauty and I can never deny you. I just want to give you everything you deserve.”

“I can’t think of a better place. This is the place where I realized I loved you,” you confess, extending your arm out into the cockpit. Din’s eyebrows shoot up from behind his helmet and you continue as if you can sense his surprise. “The late nights talking in here and learning more about you, realizing the kind of man you are...I can’t tell you exactly when I did fall in love with you but I can tell you I realized it here.” You lower Din’s helm to your forehead.

“Here then,” he affirms. The child looks in wonder at the both of you and you can’t help but feel that he understands what he is witnessing. Soft whispers of promises pass your lips and you listen as Din makes his own promises in Mando’a and the tone of his voice is so filled with love it washes over you. He doesn’t speak it often and even if you don’t know the words, you still somehow can understand. He will give you the stars if you asked. He will protect you with his life. And he will be with you until the end of time.

Din slowly brings your hands to his head, and together, you lift his helmet off. Your breath catches as he finally reveals himself to you. His skin is tan and smooth, smudged here and there with dirt and sweat, reminding you what you all just endured. You smile at the scruff along his defined jaw and upper lip. His nose is straight with a strong bridge. When your eyes finally lock as his helmet is removed, the wave of emotion is almost too much. Beautiful, brown eyes filled with adoration look down at you and it takes everything for you to remember to keep breathing.

“I’m sorry if I’m...” Din begins but you are quick to silence him with a finger to his lips. He presses a quick kiss to it as a boyish grin forms.

“You are a beautiful man, Din Djarin.” You concede. Your smile widens and matches his own as your explore his face with your eyes and your hands. “I know this face,” you tell him. He holds your hand against the side of his face and you feel him melt into you. Gently, he tips your chin up with his hand and you share a soft, sweet kiss. You’ve had more passionate and heated kisses with each other to be sure, but this one is different. This one is so saturated with love and promise it almost makes you weak in the knees.

Small chirping breaks your moment and you both laugh at the child, demanding to be lifted higher. You take him from Din and hold him in front of you, eye level to Din.

“Hey, womp rat,” Din greets him as he smooths the wrinkles on the child’s forehead. The child brings his hand to Din’s face, taking a moment to consider the new face but instantly recognizing his father. Din feels a wave of emotion course through him, not only because it is the first time you and the child are seeing his face, but it is also the first time he can truly see you both as well. No helmet, no blindfolds, just you, Din and the child wrapped up in each other’s arms. As it should be.

“Ratiin,” he murmurs to himself more than anything, but notes the question in your eyes.

“Always.”

@momc95 @electricprincess888 @maia-hocane @lamnothome @highonsoundwaves @tedpicklez @renreypoe @mabelleen @cryptkeepersoul @holamor @mando-vibes @lustriix @katialvi @spookyold-saintjm @sarcasm-n-insomnia @awesomefandomsunited @sentimental-ghost @mrsparknuts @oloreaa

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian x reader #to love and protect #the mandalorian x you #star wars #star wars imagine #the mandalorian imagine #star wars fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin imagine #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #mando x you

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ilguna · 4 years

Text

Belamour - Chapter Five (f.o)

summary: they say the odds tend to favor those who need them. well, they were wrong.

warnings; swearing, murder plot ig

wc; 8.7k

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

The second that you walk into the apartment, you’re surprised to see that the place is entirely clear, except for the avoxes that stand off to the side. There’s not even a note left behind. You find yourself grateful that you aren’t being bombarded with questions right as you walk in.

Finnick is, of course, nowhere to be seen. Assuming that he’s in his room like he normally is after long days, you head straight to your room, dreaming of a cold shower and a moment alone to your thoughts. After what happened this morning, you think you’re in need of a good moment alone to your thoughts.

The second you step in, you see that Finnick is sitting in front of your window. You know Finnick said that you have a good view and all, but that doesn’t mean that he has to come in uninvited, especially when you’re not here. You don’t say anything, and he barely acknowledges your presence.

He watches you disappear into the closet, and you don’t peek your head out once to get a look at him. Instead, you gather your clothes for after the shower. When you step out of the closet, Finnick is now turned to you, legs straight in front of him.

“Are you still going with the careers?” he asks.

The entire wording of the sentence makes you bite the inside of your cheek, staring right at him. He can’t be serious, right? But the longer that he stares, without saying a single word and not laughing once, makes you boil.

“That was the original plan, wasn’t it?” you ask sourly, throwing your clothes onto the freshly-made bed. Your right hand forms into a fist, and you place it on your hip, “That was our original plan.”

“It was, you’re right. But I think I’ve changed my mind.”

“I know, and I knew days ago. I’m not stupid, Finnick. In fact, I’m a whole lot smarter than you think.” when his eyes drift to the window, clearly not wanting a lecture, “Your alliance is going to get you killed.” you snap, watching his eyes find you again, “But you don’t know that, because you’re too caught up in making best friends with people that are going to die.”

“You don’t know that.” he says back.

“You’re accepting defeat.” you gather your clothes in your arms again. You don’t need him around you, not with that mindset. If he accepts the fact that he’s okay with dying and letting his friends win, then that’s his problem, “You’re a sinking ship.”

“No, you are.” he says, and you turn your back to him, “What would your brothers say?”

“They’d say to do whatever it takes to come back alive. If that means teaming up with the people that’ll carry me for most of the games, then so-fucking-be it.” when you look at him again, he’s halfway to the door.

“No, they wouldn’t.”

“You don’t know a damn thing about me, Finnick!” you shout, slamming your hand into the wall on your way out of the bathroom, “You’ve talked to me for years and it’s like you’ve learned nothing. They told me I can win. And I can, and the process will be a whole lot fucking easier without you in the picture.”

His eyebrows push in, mouth opening, but you finish, “So yeah, I’m with the careers, and I fit in just fine. Get the hell out of my room and stay on your side of the hallway.”

You watch to make sure he leaves, and then for good measure, you lock the doors shut. Your shower is cold, and it feels even colder after what had just happened. You sit on the floor, forehead on your knees as you close your eyes. Your body begins to cool down, no longer feeling so warm.

You’d really wanted to come in here to think about this morning, worried about the nightmare resurfacing only days before the games. It’s recurring, and typically happens when you’re about to enter a part of your life that you’ll never be able to go back and change.

The first time that really happened was when your mom died giving birth to Alyssum. You went from having her around in the house after school, to her being gone completely. She was replaced by a baby that you loathed for months, until you realized that she wouldn’t be so bad once she got older.

There was a tension between you and your brothers even before your dad died. When he did, it broke it entirely. All of you were broken, and you buried a casket without a body. It was a fishing accident, a handful of fishermen had died. No bodies recovered, the boat was never found. One day you had a parent, and the next you didn’t.

The recurring nightmare is normally drowning out at sea. The boat malfunctions and sinks, and you swim for as long as possible, sometimes trying to get back to land. But it’s always too far away and you never seem to find it. In fact, you’re turned around most of the time. So, you could be swimming away or parallel to the land and you’d never know.

You’re a fantastic swimmer, it’s the worry of getting tired and giving up, slowly sinking into the deep blue depths. You run out of air and will to swim, limbs becoming heavy. By the time you take in your first breath of water, you always seem to realize that you don’t want to die. But it’s impossible to swim back up to the top. You drown every single time.

It’s exhausting. There’s some point where you always recognize that it’s a nightmare but can’t wake yourself from it. You have to go through with drowning, and wake up with puddles of sweat on your sheets. Normally after them back home, you won’t bother with a shower or bath. Instead, you’ll go out and do some mind-numbing task that you’d never do willingly. Like fold the laundry or do the dishes.

You scrub your skin free of all the grime of today, and when you’re dressed you go ahead and lay onto the bed, back turned towards the window because of the sunlight. It takes a long moment before fatigue finally drags you under, and when it does you’re so incredibly grateful.

Anchor is the one to come and wake you up this time. He tells you that dinner is ready, and that Laurel and Pleurisy are here so don’t be shocked. You thank him, and when he leaves the room, you go straight to the bathroom to fix your messy hair. After trying to brush through it, you give up halfway through and pull it up.

At the table sits everyone but Mags and Finnick. You pick the seat furthest from the two open spots, and slowly but surely, the others settle in, leaving two open spaces. You pick at the lamb stew and rice, not too hungry because you just woke up. Mostly, you listen to the conversation between Elysia, Laurel and Pleurisy, until they all turn they all turn their attention to you.

“How was the session?” Anchor asks, he’s playing around with red wine, you think, “We couldn’t ask earlier.”

Your eyes move to the hallway, you see no shadows, “I don’t want to give it away if he’s listening.”

“He’s not, I promise.” Elysia says.

You take a deep breath, stirring the soup, “Well, I had their full attention the entire time. They kinda laughed at me when I stopped in front of the knife throwing because of how bad I was yesterday.”

Elysia gasps your name, and Anchor seems disappointed too. This is exactly the same reaction that the gamemakers had earlier. Until they saw you throwing the knives, the room went entirely quiet and all you could hear was your heart pounding in your ears and your quick breaths. It was entirely satisfying to leave them speechless like that.

“But out of the nine knives I threw at the dummy, I only missed two, above the shoulder and between the legs.” you twirl the spoon handle between your fingers, “I got a few vital places, that’s all that matters. I was mostly focused on the legs towards the end because that’ll hinder running away.”

Laurel’s got a smile on her face, “Is that it?”

“No, I used the tenth knife on the spear throw and I still nailed the middle. It had to be at least fifty feet or more.”

“That was smart.” Anchor says, “To keep that as your skill.”

“Really, it was my first time throwing. I’m surprised I didn’t miss more.”

Before they can ask anymore questions, a door is opening and Mags appears in the hallway first with a quiet Finnick trailing behind. Automatically, the mood seems to sour. When they try to drill Finnick next, he shuts them down immediately, making it all the more worse. You think it’s clear to them now that you and him aren’t getting along. It was a matter of time.

After dinner, you’re brought to the living room where you sit next to the arm on the right side. Anchor sits to your left, yawning and eventually leaning on his elbows on his knees. Mags and Finnick sit together on the other side, talking about something. And Elysia, Laurel and Pleurisy share their own couch, talking excitedly.

Then, Caesar Flickerman comes across the screen with a wide smile, saying that it’s time to get started. Naturally, it starts with District One, boys first. They’ll pull up a picture of the tribute, and have the numbers flash beneath. You watch as Lennox and Trink both get ten’s.

With Allio, he gets a nine, and Eytelle manages an eight. It’s typical for the careers to get anywhere from between eight to ten. So, Eytelle isn’t that far off but she’s teetering on the edge. You’d say it’s a way to make people underestimate her, so that they think she’s useless and therefore won’t be as worried about her, but the careers don’t work like that.

They want people to be worried, they want the sponsors to have their eyes on them. She just did something wrong inside of the session, and you can imagine that she’s not exactly happy right now. The next time you see her, she’ll probably talk about it.

Blaire scores an eight, Verda a six. The only reason why Blaire’s number is so high is probably because of the hand to hand he did on the second day. That was the only time you really saw him do anything physical, and he likely did that again inside of the private session. Verda isn’t much of a surprise, she’s small and pretty weak.

Then up comes Finnick, scoring an nine. There’s cheers for him, shaking his shoulder and congratulating him. The only reason why it’s impressive with him, is because of his age. It’s expected of the both of you, though. You’re District Four, not District Eight or whatever.

Your face appears on the screen, and you hold your breath. Heart pounding in your chest, you beg for anything above an eight. Something that’ll impress the sponsors, your career friends and everyone back home. Show them that you’ve learned something while you were here. Prove to your brother’s that you’ve got a fighting chance.

Below your picture flashes a ten.

You let out all the air you were holding in. The whole room seems to explode with excitement, feeling your shoulders shake, praise falling upon you. You guess it was for a number of things, the spear, the climbing, the hand to hand and the knives. All of those things combined did something to them.

You’re allowed to leave the living room. You give Laurel a hug and she assures you that tomorrow you’ll be beautiful and looking like you deserve a ten. Before you can actually leave, your arm is grabbed by Anchor, holding you back until Finnick has left entirely, and then turns you to him and Mags.

“You and him aren’t allies anymore, what happened?” Anchor asks.

It’s just the three of you here, and hopefully Finnick isn’t eavesdropping.

“I thought we had a plan with the careers, and I guess I was wrong. He changed his mind and never told me. I saw the people he was trying to be allies with, saw what he was trying to do, and decided that I’d rather go on my own. And I told him that earlier, after the session.”

Anchor nods, letting you go and looking over to Mags, “This is going to sway the citizens.”

“They still think they’re allies.” Mags agrees.

“Let it be a surprise, then.” you say, pulling on your fingers, “They all like a good plot twist, right?”

They don’t have a chance to say anything else, because you’re heading back to your room. You change into pajamas, steal a bowl of ice cream from the food station in the corner, and curl up by the window. You’re not all that tired because of the nap you took earlier. So, you’ll sit here and fantasize about being back home instead.

Your brothers and sister were probably gathered in a house with Naida’s family. Calandra probably brought sweets from the sweet shop in preparation of a high score. Even if you did score low, they’d eat it anyway. But you can imagine that they’re all thrilled right now, with some guilt mixed in too.

You’re only fifteen. So young to be scoring so high. And you’re about to be losing that precious innocence that you’ve been preserving for so long. Actually, you thought you’d get longer. That either you wouldn’t get chosen at all, or you would have been older and more knowledgeable about things.

They all must be conflicted. Celebrating the dangerousness of a fifteen year old child. Caspian is probably cracking jokes about it, much to Naida’s chagrin but Reed’s finding it funny anyway. It’s lightening the mood, and they all nibble on the sugar and try to ease the anxiousness in their bellies.

If they’re nervous, you can’t imagine how you’re feeling. You have tomorrow, the interview night, and then the morning of the games. Two and a half days before you’re inside of the arena.

After you finish the first bowl of ice cream, you go ahead and get a second one. There’s no point in worrying about a sugar rush. The higher you are, the better the crash will be and hopefully it’ll happen soon. You don’t want to stay up too late, but going to bed now will just mean you’ll be laying there for a while.

You hope that the score will ease their worries for one night and they’ll sleep soundly. One full night of sleep with no nightmares. Something that you’d like too.

When you’re done, you set the bowls together in a neat pile and then brush your teeth. You curl up on the bed, facing towards the window this time. You stare out of it, blinking occasionally until your eyes grow tired. Only then do you close them, and find yourself falling asleep quickly.

You wake by yourself in the morning. A look at the clock tells you that it’s nowhere near early, it’s fairly late. It’ll be reaching the afternoon in an hour or two. You should probably get up and take a shower.

With a groan, you stretch your muscles and stiffly make your way to the closet. You pick out an outfit that will be comfortable, and then move your way back towards the bathroom. The shower is quick and warm. Not wanting to deal with your hair in your face all day, you pull it out of your face once it’s semi-dry.

At the table, there’s one empty spot, far away from Finnick. You sit down, watch as a sandwich is given to you, and listen to what Mags and Anchor have to say, now that you’ve appeared at the table.

“You two will be working with Elysia today.” Mags says, “(Y/n) will start.”

You look over to Elysia to see she’s got a polite smile on her face, but when the corners of her mouth twitch, you feel hesitant all of a sudden, “For how long?”

“A couple of hours.” Elysia says, “Then I’ll work with Finnick.”

After eating, you’re brought right back into your room. Elysia disappears into your closet, and when she emerges, she’s got a floor-length dress and a pair of heels in hand. As you change, you watch as she moves some chairs out, and when you’re done, she immediately gets you to work.

You both quickly found out that you’re not half bad with the heels. You’re a little wobbly on some things, but the second after she corrects you and shows you a better way, you’re not wobbling anymore. She tells you that you shouldn’t ever pull the bottom of the dress up farther than your ankles if you need to. After walking, is literally everything else.

She makes you sit up straight, has you smile on almost anything you say. If you were to make hand gestures, they have to be gentle and lady-like. And then she has you doing a series of sentences that are so drilled into your head that you’re sure it’ll be hard not to use them during the actual interview.

“How did I do?” you ask the end of the session.

“Better than the girl tribute last year.” she rubs your back on the way out of the room, “If you remember all of that tomorrow, you’ll win over sponsors just with your smile.”

You’re traded for Finnick, leaving you with your mentors. You have a small snack before sitting down in the living room with the two of them. You cross your legs, feeling the ache in your feet after walking in the shoes so much earlier. By tomorrow, the feeling will be gone. But for now it hurts.

They stare at you for a long moment, until Anchor snaps his fingers, “Sweet.”

“Sweet?” you ask.

Mags has a smile on her face, nodding in agreement, “Yes, that’ll work.”

“Sweet.” Anchor confirms.

You feel stupid, “Like, kind and nice?”

“Exactly that.” Anchor says, “You’ve already had that air since the tribute parade, it’ll be easy to play on.”

“What about my score?”

Mags has the answer this time around, taking a seat in a long armchair, “Mysterious.”

You hum, it can work. You can make it work.

With the interviews, tributes tend to play up a certain act. Cunning, mysterious, stern, dangerous, sweet, sexy, stupid, decieving, the possibilites are endless. It’s not a surprise that this is what they’re doing, finding an adjective that will fit you, and then demanding you to play that role.

Sweet is easy. As long as you don’t over-sell it, no one will suspect a thing. And Caesar can’t ask you why you got the score you earned, he can allude to it, though. That’s where the mysteriousness can come in. You can change the subject and make sure you leave everyone on the edge of their seat.

“Easy peasy.” you tell them, they look pleased with your compliance. It makes you wonder if Finnick was a nuisance, “So, what now?”

“Mags will ask you questions, and I’ll pretend to be the audience.”

The questions that Mags ends up asking, reminds you of all the years before. All those other interviews of hundreds of now-dead tributes. She’s definitely reusing some, and making some up by herself. You make sure to cross your legs, do the gentle hand motions and smile when you get the opportunity.

You give up information about back home, you know that’ll capture some of the audience’s heart. It always seems to scoop them up, you have family back home and they’re waiting for you. They’ll be at the train station with open arms and tears in their eyes. When you say this, Anchor’s got a wide smile on his face and encourages you to keep going.

You don’t push your luck. Mags then asks the golden question about how you, a fifteen year old, could have scored so highly. And you smoothly and slyly answer the question without really answering it, “Yes, it was a surprise to me too. I’m sure my family back home is excited.”

After the first round of questions is an intermission. “Very good,” they tell you, “now try complimenting the Capitol.” and so you do your best to try and make the Capitol admirable. But it’s hard, and it’s definitely a weakness. The entire time your mind keeps going back to that magazine on the train, and you struggle to not use the titles of the sections directly.

They see that this is hard for you, and instead suggest to keep it all vague. Mags starts again, and you’re doing much better this time around. By the time you’re done, you’ve got a headache, and your thighs hurt from all the chaffing of switching back and forth on your crossed legs.

At dinner, you eat a lot, enjoy the chocolate lava cake that’s served, and even get seconds while requesting ice cream. An idea pops in your head then. Since you’ve grown so comfortable, what would the harm be in trying to align yourself with the Capitol? When you ask your mentors this, they tell you that it’s a good approach, but will be hard with what you’re supposed to be doing.

Nonetheless, you note this and call it a night. You fall asleep easily, feeling exhausted after the day’s work.

When you wake, it’s because Cleo is ringing some annoying bell in her hand. Once she realizes that your eyes are open, she gives you an innocent smile and orders you out of bed. Today is the interview, and you need to get to it.

They shower you, pressing buttons that you’ve never considered before. Once your hair is like silk and your body is sore again, they pull you out. They lather you with the lotion, dry your hair and get to work. Laurel is nowhere to be seen, and Cleo tells you that she won’t be showing up until last minute, when you’re supposed to be wearing the dress.

You watch as they work together. Beth is sitting on the floor, holding onto your hand, applying baby blue nail polish to them. After one finger, she’ll spray something onto the nail, order you not to move it much, and then move onto the next finger. By the time she’s done with the first five and has moved onto the next, your nails are dry. She goes from your hands, to your toes.

Cleo blows bubbles of pink gum. She’ll pop it without flinching, ignoring the loud sounds that it makes. When she had first started the body spray paint, you were confused on what she was doing. Now you realize that she’s spraying on shimmery purple-blue scales here and there. A sort of mermaid effect, you guess.

Leo sits back at first, watching it all come together. Every now and then he’ll point out a spot that Cleo had missed, and she’ll go back and fix it. Soon, your nails are done and dried, no more scales are needed and they’re all heading to work on the most important part. Beth straightens your hair, and then curls the ends of it. When she sprays the hairspray it smells vaguely of vanilla and cinnamon, a smell you remember from when you first came onto the train. She pins half your hair back with a silver, wave-shaped comb. She lets a few hair strands occupy your face, but not enough to overwhelm you.

You don’t know what Leo does. For most of it, he makes you close your eyes. What he does comes in layers, until he’s eventually working at your eyes. All you know is that it has something to do with blue with the way Cleo is swooning over the color. Leo mutters something about glueing silver sparkles to the corner of your eyes to symbolize tears.

They put on fake eyelashes, and that’s the first time you’re allowed to open your eyes in thirty minutes. Before they actually let you get a look in the mirror, they cover your body in a soft glitter. Every time you move, you catch light and sparkle. One look into the mirror, and you’re instantly denying that it’s you.

They’ve accentuated a lot of aspects to your face. A sharper jawline, a slimmer nose and high cheeks. The blush makes you look childlike, but the blue makeup around your eyes with small pieces of glitter and big eyelashes completely ruins the idea. When you move your face from side to side, you can see a blue shimmer. They tell you its highlight. You’re not allowed anymore time in the mirror when Laurel arrives.

You’re not allowed to face anything reflective, so you end up in the corner of the room, facing the wall as you slip the dress on. There’s a clear difference in weight, considering you’ve been walking around in underwear for the past couple of hours. Cleo puts the shoes on for you, and when they’re done, they get to gawk at you before you get to see yourself a second time.

“Oh Laurel, she’s gorgeous.” Beth’s voice is soft, and she leans into Cleo.

“She’s going to completely sell it tonight.” Leo says, “There’s no way she won’t.”

“You’ll have them lined up around the block, (Y/n).” Cleo assures you.

“Give her the last of the accessories.” is all Laurel says.

More wave-themed jewelry. A silver necklace, a pair of earrings that look like water droplets, bracelets that are simply round or continuing the theme. And Laurel pulls out your mother’s engagement ring, slipping it onto your right ring finger.

“It’s been approved.”

In the mirror, you think you look like a princess from one of those books you read as a child. The dress is unreal, the whole experience feels unreal.

The dress is off the shoulder, a beautiful baby blue, around the same color as your nails. It relies mostly on your upper arms to stay in place, and no matter how you move, it never slips. There will be no readjusting tonight. Your collarbones are clearly out for show, but there is no cleavage. That’ll be a win for your brothers, but a loss for the sponsors.

Around the top of the dress are gems shaped like water droplets. They’re irregular in both shape and where they’re placed, making it look unpredictable. It makes you think of the days in Four where you’ll watch water droplets race down the window, always unpredictable on where and how fast they’ll go.

It’s long-sleeved but the material is mesh. It’s extremely breezy, and you know that you won’t be feeling hot on stage. It’s poofy, nowhere near skin-tight. The fabric on the top half of the dress creates wrinkles that end at the middle of the dress. More gems appear at the waist, before the bottom of it flares out. There’s a leg slit on your right leg, showing off the fake scales that don’t seem to smudge no matter how often it rubs against the material.

The inside of the dress is made up of silk, while the outside is mesh to give it volume. All together, the dress reaches just above the floor, so there won’t be any holding onto it when you move around. The heels that they had you step into are while, around the same height that Elysia had you walk around in. There’s thin, criss-crossing straps around your ankles, and they’re open toed too.

Cleo makes Leo apply highlights to your collarbones, and then all four of them circle you like a pack of vultures to try and find anything out of place. They don’t find anything, Laurel is satisfied, and you’re allowed to leave the room now. You resist the urge to play with your curled hair, and instead go for your ring.

Your team is the last to arrive at the elevator, because everyone else is standing there already. Elysia gasps and immediately launches into compliments that you accept humbly. Deciding that it’s a nice time to practice what you had learned yesterday. Even Mags and Anchor are dressed up for the occasion.

You all squeeze into the elevator, with you and Finnick promptly up front. Finnick wears a snowy white suit, with an undershirt that’s the same color as your dress. You guess that Mags and Anchor have taken the plot twist idea into consideration.

At the base floor, you’re greeted with some of the tributes already lined up against the wall, ready to get on stage. The way it works, is that you’ll all be sitting behind center stage, but still in sight of all the citizens. When it’s your turn, or your name is called, you’ll get up and join Caesar in the center. When you’re done, you go right back to where you sit.

You’re going to be on stage for a long time. You’re just glad you won’t be standing the entire time.

You line up right behind Blaire, still playing with your ring. Him and Verda turn slightly at your approach. Verda is wearing a deep green color, and Blaire is in an all-black suit. They utter out a few quiet compliments to you and Finnick, the two of you returning the gesture.

Once everyone has arrived, you’re walking towards the stage in a single-file line. Even though you were sure you wouldn’t have to bring the dress up when you walk, you were thinking about solid ground. Not actual steps. You bring the bottom of the dress up just high enough to get up, and then quickly drop it back down again.

The seats are comfortable, and the gamemakers, and Capitol citizens point and whisper among themselves, excited about how you all look. You tuck the dress beneath yourself when you sit down on the soft, comfortable bubble chair.

Staring out to the people is enough to make your heart jump in your chest. The entire place is packed, it’s like the entire population is here. For the ones who couldn’t make it, there’s cameras ready to catch every angle. People in the Capitol and districts have their tv’s on. Betters are eager to see their competitors, families anticipating the moment their member gets on stage.

Reed is probably huddled up right next to Mox and Caspian at Naida’s house. Just like the day with the training scores, they’re all together. Waiting for the moment they finally get to see you again, this time bedazzled and grown up. You look nothing like you did during the tribute parade. Then, you looked young. Now you look old.

Then, Caesar Flickerman is coming onto the stage, a white smile and a friendly wave to the crowd. This year, he’s got green all over his body. A light green suit, emerald green hair. The makeup on his face is some sort of medium between the two colors.

He warms up the audience first, and right after he’s calling up Trink. Her blonde hair is in waves over her shoulders, she wears a maroon dress that’s complemented with black and sparkles in the light. For an entire minute, she twirls a strand of her hair around her finger, until the fun questions are done and Caesar’s taking a dip for a more serious air. Now, you can see the viciousness.

“I am going to win Caesar. There’s no question about it.” and then she smiles, and lets out a laugh, and the tension is automatically diminished. She made it seem fun, but it’s like a threat. She’ll kill anyone in her way.

Lennox, Eytelle and Allio are all the same way too. You start to get nervous when Verda is called up, because it’s Blaire and then it’s you. She blushes her way through her interview, but leaves a lasting impression on the audience even after she sits. Blaire makes a performance, even you’re on the edge of your seat. He’s so easygoing that it makes him look like the interviewer and Caesar the tribute.

Blaire takes a seat, and you take a deep breath. Eyes are on you now. You sit up a little higher, letting the smile naturally come to your face.

“Now onto District Four, with (Y/n) Gallows!” Caesar introduces, you carefully uncross your legs and stand from where you sit. His arm is outstretched in your direction. Every move you make towards center stage makes you feel nervous.

Three minutes starts the moment you stop in front of Caesar, shaking his hand. Your hands are surprisingly dry, even if they were wet, you wouldn’t be able to dry them off anywhere.

You take a look out to the audience. So many people to impress--no. Actually no, not a lot of people to impress. You’ve already done that with your abnormally high score. Now you just have to sell it to everyone. Sweet and mysterious. Two things that can mix if you do it just right.

Your eyes glaze over the camera. Your brothers are watching.

You can do this.

When you look at Caesar, he’s already giving you a daring look, “(Y/n), you are absolutely stunning tonight.”

“Me?” you ask, eyes widening, “Caesar, I am nothing compared to you.”

“I have to disagree. Don’t you, folks?” loud cheering follows.

You’re a little surprised that he isn’t taking the compliment. Normally with others, he takes it gratefully and ends up spinning it back to you. He’ll share the spotlight somehow. There’s a difference here. Something is different.

“I love that outfit. The running water effect is absolutely gorgeous.”

“Yes, I think so too. My stylist is very smart with her themes. She was even kind enough to incorporate my token.”

“Where?” Caesar asks, the audience seems to rile up at the thought. You hold your hand out for him to see, and he takes your hand in his delicately, turning to see the ring. Then, he shows the cameras and the audience, which projects onto a bigger screen for those who are too far away to see, “Does it hold any sort of significance?”

“Of course.”

He laughs, “Besides the fact that it represents District Four.”

“It was my mother’s engagement ring.” you begin to explain, “She wore it all the time before she died. My brother’s gave it to me as a surprise when they said goodbye. I think they were anticipating the day I’d get reaped, which is why they were holding onto it.”

Caesar looks sullen, as does the audience, “Do you think they’re watching back home?”

“I would hope so.” you laugh, he does too.

“Do you have anything you’d like to say to them?”

This is perfect. A perfect lead up to steal the hearts of everyone, and show them that you can be more than just sweet and slightly mysterious. You can be mean too, just like the other careers.

You find the nearest camera, smiling lightly at first, batting your eyelashes. You lift your chin, staring right into the lens. They better realize that this is personal, “I will come home to you. I will win for you. I miss you. I love you. And I will see you soon.”

Caesar doesn’t have a chance to say anything else, the buzzer is going off. The audience is loud, cheering and screaming. They jump to their feet, clapping and some even demanding for a little more time. Caesar pulls you in for a side-hug.

“Ladies and gentlemen, (Y/n) Gallows from District Four. Best of luck to you, (Y/n).”

“Thank you.” you smile, waving one last time to the crowd and turning right around to head back to your seat.

You’ve got the eyes of a lot of tributes. All either captivated or suddenly intimidated. Maybe they’re suddenly realizing what they’re up against. Everyone wants to get home, but you just told your family outright that you will win, after scoring a ten. You know something that the rest of them don’t.

Hopefully that’ll keep them on the edge of their seat.

Next up is Finnick, and you spend most of the time fidgeting with the ring, unfortunately not being able to tune him out. You try to get your thoughts to stir, imagining what your brother’s look like back home. But your mind is blank, and you’re forced to watch your former ally dazzle the audience.

It’s only a minute in and they’re already swooning over him. When Caesar asks if he should expect any surprises inside of the arena, you think Finnick alludes to the fact that you and him are no longer allies by saying; “Not everything is what it seems.” and then moves on before Caesar can ask.

Caesar doesn’t even skip over the fact that he’s handsome, “How many girls do you have falling over you at home?”

“More than you’d believe.” Finnick says, “Would you like me to name them?”

You realize then that his motive is casanova. There’s no other way to describe it.

Him and Caesar shake hands at the end of his interview, and Finnick sits down next to you with a smirk. Under his breath he mutters, “That’s how it’s done.” and you bite the inside of your cheek, resisting the urge to embarrass him right now by leaving him a nice, red handmark on his cheek.

At the end of the interviews, you stand for the anthem, chin directed upward because it’s required. At the end of it, you’re all filing off the stage, starting with the first district and others following behind it. By the time you reach the lobby, it’s crowded.

Before you can even make your way over to an elevator, Trink is slithering up next to you, tucking some hair behind her ear, “Here’s our formal invitation to have you be in our alliance.”

“I accept.” you smile, “I’ll see you tomorrow at the cornucopia?”

Allio lets out a laugh, “Are we going to race?”

“I’ll easily beat all four of you, don’t even dare.” Eytelle, and suddenly a small argument breaks out between you all. Lennox tells her that just because she’s tall, doesn’t mean she runs faster.

She tries to back up her claim, but it’s too late and she’s rolling her eyes. You all have to split anyway, so you bid them goodbye and good luck, to which they do the same. The lobby has mostly cleared then, so you get onto an elevator with a couple of tributes you don’t know the names of, and get off at the first stop.

Inside of the apartment, you’re welcomed with the sight of everyone already at the table. Your mentors, the stylists, the prep teams, your fellow tribute and Elysia.

You skip up the steps, a smile on your face. You gracefully take a seat at the table, and it’s hard to make the smile go away. Not with how you were confirmed in an alliance with the deadliest tributes there is. You are golden. All your ducks have been lined up since the beginning, and now all you have to do is execute it.

When Anchor finally cracks and asks why you’re so happy, you tell them, “I have an alliance.” and let their thoughts take it from there. Dinner is loud, and animated. You listen as the prep team and the stylists talk about what they did and didn’t like on the other tributes.

You decide it’s a good time as any to bring up the fact that Caesar didn’t accept the compliment, and Elysia agrees that it was a little odd. Then, they’re moving on to how well you sold the part, and how you didn’t even need to worry about the training scores. Cleo says, “Just because he didn’t mention it, doesn’t mean that people aren’t thinking about it.” which eases worries you didn’t even know you had.

After dinner, you’re allowed to watch the interviews over again. You have to admit that everyone sells their part very well. But the second you’re bringing up your dead mom and brother’s back home, you can hear Beth hold onto her breath and Leo is eating every moment up. You did good.

You part with your mother’s engagement ring for the final time, Laurel assures you that you’ll get it back when she sees you tomorrow. Her, Pleurisy and the prep teams all leave after that. The only people left are Mags, Anchor, Elysia, you and Finnick.

Elysia won’t be seeing you in the morning, neither will your mentors. She hugs you and Finnick tightly, and you want to apologize for the glitter on her now, but she doesn’t give you a chance to. She disappears off somewhere.

“Find water.” Anchor says, “Remember the three rule.”

The three rule, yes. Something one of the experts at a survival station had taught you the first day of training. Back when you and Finnick were still sticking next to each other. You can go three weeks without food, three days without water, three hours without shelter and three minutes without air.

You already know that water will be at the top of the priority list. You hope that it won’t be a struggle to find any. A while ago, the gamemakers seemed to have learned their lesson about not providing water for the tributes. They’ll all slowly die off like flies from dehydration. It doesn’t make much for a show.

“Right.” you agree, yawning.

They don’t offer much else besides luck. You carefully hang up the blue dress in the closet, and then you scrub your body in the shower. You watch as the glitter runs down the drain, as the body spray nearly stains your skin.

Your hair goes from stiff to silky smooth again. You try to take care of your hair the best you can when you step out, but you’re so tired that you give up halfway through and collapse onto the bed. With your back to the window, you can hear the distant celebration of the citizens.

You’re done with living easy. Tomorrow you fight for your life.

And your win.

In the early morning, it’s only Laurel that wakes you. She has you brush your hair and teeth, but tells you that there will be no breakfast in the apartment. You’re to be transported to the hovercraft immediately, and she’ll meet you at the arena. She hands off a yellow shirt and black pants that are similar to the outfit you wore on the first day of training.

It’s only a temporary outfit. What you’ll be wearing inside of the arena will be given to you in the catacombs below the arena. Either way, the outfit is comfortable and you have no complaints. She brings you to the roof of the Tribute Center, giving you a slight feeling of vertigo and wobbly legs.

A ladder falls from a hovercraft above. You think you’re expected to climb the entire way up, but the moment you’ve got up the first rung, you’re shocked in place. No matter how hard you try to move, you can’t. It’s a good thing. The ladder is pulled up, and no matter how hard it’s jerked, you don’t fall off.

Inside of the hovercraft, you’re fully prepared to be released, but it’s not the case. A man in a white lab coat with a syringe in his hand gives you a polite smile, “This is your tracker. It’ll only hurt for a second.”

You grit your teeth, still very frozen as he inserts the needle deep into your forearm. You can feel the metal tracking device being pushed in. If you weren’t kept in place, this would have made your toes curl and teeth break. When it’s in, you’re released and helped to your feet.

The ladder is dropped once more, and this time Laurel is helped up. Once she’s on her feet, she directs you to a backroom where breakfast is laid out. You go ahead and load up on as much as possible. This is the last real meal that they’re going to provide you with. After this, you don’t know when your next meal will be.

Once you’re sure you’re full, you go ahead and drink a lot of water, too. Laurel lets you know that the ride is going to be long. For a while, you just watch as the city flies beneath the hovercraft, and then it eventually turns to a forest. You cross your fingers under the table, hoping that they’ve got an arena in favor of District Four.

Really, it could be anything. A frozen wasteland, a dry desert, a tropical island. Forest, city ruins, an old village. Every year, it’s a new place. This arena will only be used once, and after that it’ll be a playground for the Capitol citizens. To take vacations, go on tours, reenact fights.

Their deaths are always turned into some sort of joke. They don’t honor the dead, and you hope that one day that comes and bites them in the ass. It’s disrespectful. Back home, if you even did half the shit they do in the Capitol, you’d be yelled at until Reed’s face turned blue, and then be grounded for however long he feels like it.

Eventually, the windows black out, indicating that you’re almost there. You drink more water, and try to breathe evenly. The games start at ten, and you’d take a good bet right now that it’s an hour away. An hour before you’re inside of the arena. Now, the nerves begin to sprout.

The hovercraft lands, Laurel directs you back towards the ladder. She’s lowered into the catacombs first. You take this time to thank whoever is around you, just trying to be polite. When it’s your turn, you get frozen and you watch as you’re brought through a tube, down to the cement catacombs. From there, Laurel leads you to where your Launch Room will be.

The second you step inside, you begin to feel sick. You take deep breaths, reassuring Laurel that you’re fine and you just need to get a hold of your stomach. You pace, and press your hand against your forehead. She comes around with a cold water after that, and you mostly press it to your forehead, afraid that drinking it will trigger something in your throat.

When you feel better, Laurel makes you take a shower and offers last minute food. You take a small roll that’s the shape of a fish and tastes like salt. It reminds you of the time your mom bought you pretzels from the bakery one afternoon as a treat. You didn’t really like the salt, and had to brush most of it out. But you ate it anyway, and later you discovered just how much you liked it.

You brush your teeth, Laurel pulls your hair out of your face into a ponytail that you requested. You can’t have your hair in your face. You’ve seen all the years before where some tributes during the bloodbath will get their hair in their face while running. If you’re focused on getting your hair out of your face, then you’re not paying attention to your surroundings.

Finally, your outfit comes through in a box. Everything inside is brand new, and not even Laurel knows what’s inside. She didn’t get to choose this outfit, she tells you that you’ll be wearing the exact same thing as the other tributes. There’s complete fairness between all of you.

First is a sports bra and high-waisted underwear. She hands over a pair of black stirrup pants. It takes you a moment to get used to the feeling of the pants being directly attached to your feet. You’re worried about them being pulled down when you’re running, but out comes a thin, black belt to keep the pants from moving too much.

She gives you a thin, faded, blue-grey shirt, “Must be hot.” is all she says. Next is a jacket, which is also thin, but it’s white and has a hoodie attached. You pull on a pair of skin-tight socks. You do a series of motions, being sure that they won’t slide down. They don’t, but you pull them all the way up anyway.

The shoes are black boots, which you tie the laces tight. Once you’re sure that it’s not cutting off circulation, you make sure it all fits. You zip up the jacket halfway, not wanting it to get in the way of running. You have to go to the cornucopia, whether you like it or not. It’ll just be a whole lot easier if you get there first.

“Feels comfortable?” Laurel asks, you nod. Finally, she pulls out your mother’s ring and slips it onto your finger.

She offers food again, and you ask for water. The two of you sit on the couch together in complete silence. You fidget with the ring, rub your hands against the jeans to get the sweat off of your hands. You’ll be fine, all you have to do is breathe.

This must be how all the tributes before you felt. How everyone after you will feel, too. Absolute terror of the unknown. The second you’re raised and the gong sounds, it’s fair game. Anything can happen. It’s like what you told Reed; the arena is unpredictable. One second you could be fine, the next you could be covered in injuries and fighting for your life.

“I want to go home.” you suddenly breathe out, tears gathering in your eyes, “I just want to go home.”

“And you will.” Laurel says, she’s extending an arm over your shoulder, pulling you into her side and rubbing your arm. This brings a whole new wave of sadness. It’s the exact move your dad did after announcing your mom was dead, “You’re a fighter, (Y/n). You’ve beaten the odds so far, what’s a little more?”

It’s not little, though. You want to tell her that, but all you do is nod. It’s not a little. You have weeks in front of you. Events around every single corner if the arena is boring for longer than a die.

Then, a female voice is saying it’s time to prepare for launch. You take a deep breath, clearing your eyes of the tears. You and Laurel head over to the metal plate. Before you step inside, she’s readjusting your clothes, fixing your hair. It’s such a motherly thing to do. To fuss over things she won’t be able to control in a moment.

“I know you’re not with Finnick.” She says, “So be careful with the careers. You don’t know them as well as you think you do. They can act on whims, and bad thoughts will lead to bad moves.”

You nod, “I know.”

“Good.” she hugs you a final time, you can feel the butterflies start to swarm your stomach and begin to suffocate for you, “I can’t bet on you, (Y/n). But the prep team and I will be cheering you on, okay?”

You step onto the metal plate, “Thank you, for everything.”

The glass cylinder comes down from the top, slowly beginning to encase you. It’s like shutting the lid on the coffin. You wonder if your dead parents are watching you, right alongside your brothers, sister, and family friends. You wonder if they have the same feeling of impending doom dawning on them.

You hold back the tears, wave goodbye to Laurel, and then you straighten up, chin high. You have to look bold for Reed. No matter how awful you’re feeling, you have to pretend right now. You can’t screw up the chance you got, because it’s all you have.

Soon, you’re encased in pure darkness.

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair lacuna #lacuna

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vaguely-concerned · 5 years

Text

I rewatched the mandalorian episode 8 and boy have I got feels for you

- lol gideon’s callouts to all of them though... you have ‘hey cara remember how we blew up your entire planet and killed your fellow soldiers’ and ‘hey din djarin yeah I know who you are lol the mysterious stranger thing doesn’t work on me remember how we apparently murdered a bunch of mandalorian children in one night’ (that’s how I’m taking ‘mandalorian recruits’ anyway) and then finally there’s just ‘greef karga. you’re really old enough to know better.’

- oh bb!din doesn’t cry at any point during the whole flashback :((( bb boy. he’s of course terrified but there are no tears. I’m guessing he’s in shock/dissociated the entire time. (probably also due to having a child actor but I think it makes a lot of sense in-universe too! to put on my trauma hat for a moment he’s always read to me as a combined freeze/flight type; he either dissociates or loses himself in work. I suppose he got started early)

- the look on Papa Djarin’s (I mean I assume) face as tiny din reaches out for him and he knows he has to turn away and leave to save him :) exquisite burning agony

I still wonder so much what his parents did for a living. those red robes look almost like uniforms/religious garb to me or it might of course just be the fashion in this place, people in the background seem to be wearing similar things.

- I LOVE the mando who saves him as a kid because that’s apparently the same actor who’s in the mando suit when it’s not pedro pascal or another stuntman (brendan wayne, I think it is?) so it gives this wonderful feeling that you get now where a lot of din’s body language and general bearing comes from but there’s also just enough difference that it’s clearly another person. with din there’s always this edge of reserve and a slight stiffness no matter how relaxed he is, and this guy has the same basic steadiness as him but seems a bit more open just from these few short shots. (there might be a little bit of character design in this as well -- din’s shoulder pauldrons are naturally uh ‘higher’ than this guy’s, who has smoother/flatter and more rounded shapes, giving the feeling of shoulders just slightly raised and relaxed down respectively)

it’s nice to see the mandos as a protective force even if they have the death watch symbol there to make you go ‘?!?!?!’, there wasn’t a lot of that in clone wars but it’s an ill wind and so on I guess

- this confused jawa looking at the dead stormtroopers is everything. don’t worry you’re doing amazing sweetie

- the context for why din picks up the e-web (channeling the spirit of baze malbus, a man who also didn’t let the fact that his weapon was really meant to be mounted on a tank stop him :’) ) makes it even better: he sees that IG-11 has the baby and that he’s getting overwhelmed and he literally grabs the biggest gun he can find and goes to town to let him get away.

- “I haven’t heard that name spoken since I was a child” ooof but also what are the logistics of that? I’m wondering if it might be the ‘Djarin’ part, if that’s his family name? maybe there hasn’t been a use for that among the mandos? surely someone has needed to call him by name somehow at some point in the last 30+ years lol

- one of the reasons gideon works so well as a villain is that he can get past the beskar. he knows exactly how to kill mandalorians because he’s done it before. he’s not only a huge threat emotionally -- he wants the baby and he’s done some fucked up shit to din’s culture -- he’s also one of the few people who can nullify the physical protection of our main boi in the helmet. and that scares me. because he’s my dad and I love him.

- I’m fairly sure din is properly unconscious for almost half a minute there. (which is very very bad. always go see a doctor if you lose consciousness after hitting your head if an IG unit with appropriate training and equipment is not on hand)

- baby yoda passing out after doing one (admittedly spectacular) thing is a wholeass mood, #same buddy ilu

- din is the first person to explicitly call the baby a foundling ;____;

- poor cara she’s already lost so much and her new bro is trying to convince her to let him throw himself on any sword made available to him. (I do love that neither she nor IG-11 buy mando’s bullshit for a moment here tho lol they’re openly saying they’ll take him with them anyway while he’s listening)

- oh. oh din starting to jumble his words even as the gun remains rock steady in his hand is hitting me really hard this time. ow.

- I think the baby can sense din and IG coming (he gives a little sound right before they show up)

- when cara checks in with him in the tunnel she touches her fingers to his chest so very lightly and he almost falls over backwards sdfaksdljhf

- well he definitely is trembling while picking up that helmet from the pile. so have fun knowing that with me

it’s so messed up too because there’s not that many of them left; he’s all but guaranteed to have known every single one of them.

- this image of him on his knees in front of this pile of the empty armor of the dead feels. I don’t know how to describe it but like a repeat. like he has been here before, this isn’t the first time and it’s hitting him all over again. (considering how things have been going for the mandos recently that might very well be true too. metaphorically this is essentially what’s going on in the background of the entire show, anyway. Friends I think mando Saw Some Shit during the night of a thousand tears or a similar event)

maybe what gives me this feeling is how clearly he is in another time in some way during this part, before the armorer diagnoses him with Dad and brings him properly back. he’s trying to send them away with the baby, who’s like. basically the symbol of his will to live at this point. “I can’t leave it this way”, he can’t leave the dead behind and be alive, some part of him wants to stay with them.

you can see this from how he talks about the baby too: in the scene where he’s hurt and trying to get them to leave he consistently calls him the child or the baby (not to mention the first foundling we get!) and focuses very specifically on keeping him safe. in this triggered state the baby briefly becomes it again and he doesn’t even mention him, he just tells them to take his ship and leave. in that moment all he wants to do is fight and probably die on behalf of those who are already gone. (I think bessel van der kolk has called PTSD ‘a profound loyalty to that which is lost’ or something like that. that rings very true to me here)

the talk with the armorer is basically a very short debate between ol’ coping mechanism!din being like ‘hey I just remembered before all this I was doing my very best to work myself to an early and likely shallow grave, I should get back to that’ and Papa Wolf!din being like ‘except this is my son so we’re not doing that we’re gonna have to improvise something new on the fly here’. bless.

(all of this is so subjective and probably me reading things into it that don’t really exist so don’t quote me on any of this but his anger at greef karga sounds to me like that of a younger, emotionally rawer man too, it’s so openly hurt and... active? I guess? these days when he gets angry he seems to tend more towards getting deathly quiet. then again this is one of the most genuinely upsetting things in the whole show so it could just be that)

- hahahahahaha greef rests his hand on his gun before he follows them into the armorer’s workshop; it would seem he did not think it guaranteed either she or maybe especially mando wouldn’t try to shoot him

- the way the armorer’s voice gains a brightness/warmth when she sees the child! the mandalorian ‘protect babies’ instinct in action haha, she’s like ‘oh this is why you did this bugfuck insane thing. perfectly reasonable, keep up the good work’. the foundlings are the future is not just lip service it really is a central tenet of their culture even when it’s inconvenient

there’s this sense that... in the face of his hurt she’s basically telling him to go be alive, to raise this child, to choose surviving and healing. I think she understands him very very well, I wonder how long they’ve known each other. (she had the mould for his signet ready <3)

- he sounds so crestfallen and lost when he asks if the baby is an enemy. and then she’s just fondly like ‘no it’s your son you absolute dummy’ and he’s like ‘...yeah I know’

- I. love that in these scenes he’s hurt (and not just physically) and other people are there to carry the baby until he can pick him up at the end fully as a father would.

- I have talked about it before but I must restate how hilarious and endearing I find it that mando conscientiously leans the thing he tries to pry the boat loose with against the wall again while cara shoots the place up. one is never too busy to mind one’s manners. (this scene really showcases each of the characters too. greef: just keep fuckn pushing! mando: briefly kicks the thing with a growl then tries attacking the problem from a new angle. cara: GUN.)

- oh the absolute sweetness of how IG says “And you will live”. there’s so much emotion in his droid voice there and all of it is peaceful and affectionate. I agree with din IG don’t goooooooo don’t leave us we need an adult

I keep whispering ‘pls someone think to shield the baby’s eyes’ through my tears in this scene, he didn’t need to see that happen D:

- I really need to repeat that despite what IG-11 says, he goes ahead with his plan anyway even though mando never satisfies his ‘programming’s’ demand. droid’s got free will and a huge big heart Y___________Y anyway... droid rights in the star wars universe when (...it would be very funny if din became embroiled in that fight somehow after this, oh how the turntables)

- another continuity error: mando puts the jetpack on, then we get a shot of cara shooting and he’s standing there with it in his hands again haha. unless he realized he put it on upside down the first time around or something that seems unlikely. (he’s also lying in slightly different positions between cuts in the scene where IG-11 heals him, but that’s so small and subtle I don’t even really count it)

- the jetpack scene is a beautiful encapsulation of din’s fighting style. he flails and gets jerked around a lot. he nearly blows himself up. I don’t think he’s fully in control of anything that whole time. and yet he gets the job done yet again. a disaster, but a glorious disaster still standing at the end of it all. one simply must stan.

- a) I think din remembered how to take off better than he remembered how to land haha and b) BABY’S HAPPY LITTLE FACE WATCHING HIS DAD COME BACK DOWN c) THE BABY & MANDO MUSIC PLAYING WHEN DIN NOTICES THE BABY CLUTCHING HIS LEG *elmo surrounded by flames gif* (it’s a calmer/more grounded version of the same song that plays when they have that moment of connection right before the other mandos come to the rescue in ep 3 and also a few other times)

- baby’s joyful little trilling sound when his dad turns his head to check on him 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 and he strokes the cape with such contentment because it’s a safe familiar texture because this is his dAD (officially and legally too now, mandalorian-wise :’) im so happy)

- the unsympathetic comedy stormtroopers at the beginning could conceivably have survived (if not uh happily lol). if they become a recurring duo who show up and get more and more screwed every time I wouldn’t be mad haha

- I support these jawas in everything they do, I feel a great kinship with these lil goblins

- anyway I love this show so much and I hope season 2 is good too and knows it holds my fragile heart in its hands

#star wars #the mandalorian #meta #get ready to be rambled at haha #can I even tell how much sense I'm making anymore? no but I'm having a lot of fun #the mandalorian meta

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raiseyourcups · 4 years

Text

Cabur

Chapter Twenty-Three

Pairing: Din Djarin x OFC (Aili Verdella) Warnings: droid death, explosions, mention of graves, mention of blood Word Count: 4.4k Also on AO3

Masterlist//Main Masterlist

Summary: They make it down to the lava river but of course things can't just go their way, not with their luck. Can they make it through what Moff Gideon throws their way this time or is this the end of the line for Mando, Aili, Little Green, and the friends they've dragged into their mess?

(Note: this is almost the end, the penultimate chapter aside from the Interlude in place of an epilogue. I do still have an announcement for this series but I will put that on the final chapter when it’s posted. For now, please enjoy the almost end.)

They made it down to the underground river as quickly as they could and there was no mistaking when they got close to it. The air was getting hotter with every step they took towards the river until it became stifling. Maker, Aili really hated that Nevarro was somehow considered habitable despite being surrounded by lava everywhere.

“This is the lava river,” Karga pointed out like it wasn’t obvious to all of them. There was a ferry that would thankfully have enough room for all of them there. Aili was mostly just glad that there was still a ferry boat. It wasn’t the prettiest but it would get the job done.

“The ferry droid is fried,” Mando stated, stepping forward to get a closer look at the droid. He hoped he was wrong in his assessment but with one scan he knew he wasn’t. He barely stopped himself from cursing out loud. Could one thing go their way right now?

“Well, that’s just great,” Aili replied.

“If we push the boat out, we can get it to float downstream,” Karga said as he stepped forward to do just that. “Come on.”

“Looks old, will it take the heat?” Mando asked, sounding skeptical as he looked over the boat more. He couldn’t even begin to guess how long the boat had been down there at this point but he had a feeling it had been a while.

“You got a better idea?” Karga questioned, looking back at Mando with a raised brow.

Mando looked from Karga to the boat once more before he let out a sigh. “Guess not.”

Mando and Karga tried to push the boat away from where it was only for it to not even move an inch away. Mando let out an angry sigh before backing away and kicking at the boat. Aili opened her mouth to say something but she decided against it for once.

“Let’s try this,” Mando said, grabbing a pole that was leaning against a wall. He tried to leverage it under the boat to get it to budge but it wasn’t moving. Cara suddenly let out an annoyed sound, pulling her rifle from around her shoulders.

“You guys mind getting out of the way?” Was all the warning she gave them before she pointed the blaster at the bottom of the boat where it was stuck. Mando and Karga scrambled away from the boat, Mando putting himself between the boat and Aili.

Cara shot along the side of the boat, blasting away the built up lava rock in order to free the boat. It worked like a charm of course.

“Good job,” Karga said as he climbed onto the boat. Cara followed quickly after and then Mando.

“Watch your feet. It’s molten lava,” IG-11 stated the obvious in a way that only a droid could.

“Yes, thank you for that IG,” Aili said as she handed Little Green over to Mando so she could climb onto the boat without tripping. It wasn’t exactly the easiest task with her legs being shorter than everyone else’s but no one was dumb enough to comment on it. Once she was on the boat, she took Little Green back from Mando.

The boat started to float down the river and then there was suddenly beeping and whirring coming from behind them. Everyone turned, blasters ready, as the supposed fried droid woke up. It slowly stood up, the built up rocks that had seemingly crushed it being brushed off. The droid chirped at them, picking up a ferry stick as it did.

“I don’t suppose anyone here speaks droid?” Mando asked slowly.

Aili turned her head to look up at Mando like he was an idiot. “You do know that IG is literally a droid, right?”

“I believe he is asking where we would like to go,” IG-11 said before Mando could reply to Aili.

“Down river. To the lava flat,” Karga sharply ordered the ferry droid.

The ferry droid chirped happily, beginning to push them down the river. Aili couldn’t help but let a small smile cross her face when she caught the way it was continuing to chirp in a rhythm like it was chirping along to a song. Some droids were just so cute.

“That’s it! We’re free!” Karga exclaimed pointing at the large opening ahead of them.

Mando wished that he could agree with Karga but as he turned on his heat signature readings, he didn’t know what to do next. “No. No we’re not.”

“What is it now?" Aili asked with a deep sigh. She had known this was going too easily for them.

“Stormtroopers,” Mando said, turning his helmet a little to look down at Aili. “They’re flanking the mouth of the tunnel. It looks like an entire platoon so they must know we’re coming."

“Stop the boat.” Cara said shortly, turning around when the ferry droid didn’t stop pushing them along the river. “Hey, droid, I said stop the boat.”

“Cara, calm down and let it--or you could just do that.” Aili let out a sigh as Cara shot the droid’s head off. It didn’t do anything other than leave them without a ferry droid as the boat kept floating along the river.

“We’re still moving. Looks like we fight," Cara said, her tone speaking volumes to how angry she was getting now.

“There are too many,” Mando said without stating the obvious that they were still in a boat above a lava river. There wasn’t much room for error and the Stormtroopers would have the advantage since they were on solid ground.

“Then what do you suggest ‘cause I can’t surrender,” Cara stated

“Yes, we get it, you were part of the rebellion,” Aili said shortly. “But let’s think about this for a moment, who do you think they’ll care more about? You or the kid? You or Mando? You or the person who betrayed the Empire?”

Aili didn’t mean to make it sound like she didn’t think Moff Gideon would take Cara prisoner but of the people on the ferry boat at the moment Cara and Karga would be low on his priority list. He had all but threatened to take her back into the Program when he was flaunting their names around. And it was obvious how much he wanted Little Green back in his clutches. Mando had pissed him off so he was wanted as well.

“You really think--”

“Yes.” Aili interrupted, staring down Cara with a steely look in her eyes. “And I know you’re pissed and scared but you know I’m right.”

Cara stared back at Aili for a moment before she squared her shoulders and moved over to the front of the boat. She may not have had anything to say back but Aili took note of the way the Shock Trooper had placed herself in front of her. She wasn’t going to mention it out loud though nor did she think Cara would appreciate it if she did so.

“They will not be satisfied with anything less than the child and it’s protectors. This is unacceptable. I will eliminate the enemy and you will escape,” IG-11 stated as if he wouldn’t be a single droid against an entire platoon.

Mando shook his head at the droid’s barely there plan. “You don’t have that kind of firepower, pal. You wouldn’t even get to daylight.”

“That is not my objective.”

“We’re getting close. Saddle up.” Cara said, readying her blaster rifle for the incoming fight. She wasn’t sure how much of a shot they really had but she wasn’t about to go down without a fight. Not when they had already made it through the shitstorm up in the cantina, nearly losing Mando, and making it down the lava river.

“I still have the security protocols from my manufacturer. If my designs are compromised, I must self-destruct,” IG-11 stated bluntly.

Aili turned to look at the droid with wide eyes. "Excuse me?" She did not want to be anywhere near a droid as it self-destructed nor did she want Little Green nearby.

“What are you talking about?” Mando questioned, he thought Kuiil had completely rewired the droid. He shouldn’t even be able to initiate a self-destruct.

“I’m not permitted to be captured. I must be destroyed.” IG-11 kept talking like it was the most obvious plan meanwhile Aili and Mando stared at him in stunned silence.

“Are we gonna keep talking or are we going to get outta here?” Karga asked, eyeing how close they were getting to the mouth of the tunnel. They didn’t have much longer to come up with a plan.

“I can no longer carry this for you,” IG-11 said, placing the jetpack down between him and Mando. “Nor can I help watch over the child.”

“Wait, you can’t self-destruct. Your base command is to watch the child, that supersedes your manufacturer's protocol, right? Right?” Mando questioned again, getting more desperate to stop the droid from initiating self-destruct. He wasn’t even sure why he was fighting against the droid destroying itself so much but he didn’t have time to think about it at the moment.

“This is correct,” IG-11 said after a short pause to go through his programming.

“Good. Now grab a blaster and help us shoot our way out.” Mando didn’t leave any more room for the droid to argue with him

“Mando, think about this for a second. You said it was a whole platoon and they have the advantage of--”

“Not if we’re all shooting at them,” Mando interrupted Aili before she could finish her sentence.

Aili let out a deep sigh before moving behind Mando, placing her arms through the loops of the bag Little Green was in so she could use more than one blaster while keeping him safe on her back. If Mando wanted them to do this, she was going to at least do as much damage as she possibly could. Little Green let out a coo from behind her and she tried to pretend that it wasn’t one of his more scared coos. Thinking about that wouldn’t make it easy to keep her focus on the task at hand.

“Victory through combat is impossible. We will be captured and the child will be lost,” IG-11 stated, his programming still making him attempt to get the Mandalorian to see reason despite his earlier compliance. “Sadly, there is no scenario where the child is saved in which I survive. No scenario in which any of you are not captured.”

IG-11 slightly turned his head so his vision receptors were focused on Aili and the child. He knew that would make it clear to Mando that Moff Gideon had not only set his sights on reclaiming the child but now would not stop until he also had Aili. He could see that the Mandalorian clearly cared for both the child and the woman who had designated herself the small alien’s main protector.

“Listen, you’re not going anywhere. We need you, let’s just come up with a--”

“Please tell me the child will be safe in your care. If you do so, I can default to my secondary command.” IG-11 interrupted Mando. He knew what needed to be done but he could not do anything without knowing that the child would be safe with the Mandalorian and his companions.

“But you’ll be destroyed,” Mando stated, knowing that it was a weak argument because it would keep everyone else alive.

“And you will live, and I will have fulfilled my purpose.”

“No. We need you.”

“There’s nothing to be sad about. I have never been alive,” IG-11 said bluntly. He had made that point earlier as he removed Mando’s helmet in order to administer bacta spray. He was a droid, no matter how much programming Kuiil had given him.

“I’m not...sad,” Mando said stiltedly.

“Yes, you are. I’m a nurse droid, I’ve analyzed your voice.”

From behind Mando, Aili let out a sound like an almost laugh. It was quieter than her usual laughs at Mando’s expense knowing that IG-11 was speaking the truth. She wasn’t exactly thrilled at the idea of losing the droid either even if she had threatened to shoot him not even an hour ago. IG-11 stepped forward in order to reach over Mando and run a metallic finger over the child’s ear, listening as he let out a sad coo.

“IG! What are you doing?” Karga exclaimed as the droid stepped out of the boat and into the lava river. All anyone could do was watch as he walked alongside the boat at first before passing them up and heading for the mouth of the tunnel. Mando walked up to the front of the boat, Aili standing behind him and Cara while Little Green peeked over her shoulder as best as he could.

IG-11 stopped outside of the tunnel where the Stormtroopers must have been waiting for them and after a few more seconds, there was a loud explosion. Aili winced at the sight and wished that she could do something about the sad coos coming from Little Green more now. But they didn’t know how many troopers had escaped the blast yet.

They exited the tunnel, seeing nothing but small fires and dead troopers lying scattered around the mouth of the tunnel. The boat hadn’t even come to a stop yet when the sound of a TIE fighter engine, the one Moff GIdeon had arrived in, came from over their heads. He flew in close and started shooting at them, not directly at the boat because they still had the child he so desperately wanted.

Aili and Mando ducked down while Cara started shooting over their heads in an attempt to take down the TIE fighter. He soon flew away from them, over the mountains before them and out of their range.

“He missed!” Karga said, his voice incredulous.

“On purpose,” Aili stated knowing that Moff Gideon had the means to land a direct hit if he had really wanted to.

“He won’t miss next time,” Mando added.

“Our blasters are useless against him,” Cara said, not even her blaster rifle had come close to landing a decent hit on the TIE.

“Let’s make the baby do the magic hand thing.”

“He can’t do it on command,” Aili said, rolling her eyes at Karga’s suggestion. She slipped the bag off of her shoulders, putting Little Green down on the floor of the boat. She hoped it’d be a little easier to protect him if he wasn’t on her back now. She’d be able to throw herself over him now if she needed to, like she had done for Mando back in the cantina.

“How do you know? Come on, baby, do the magic hand thing!” Karga directed towards Little Green, waving three fingers like that would do anything. Little Green stared at Karga with his wide brown eyes, reaching out with one hand and waving it like he was saying hello. Aili barely resisted the urge to tell Karga that she told him so.

“I’m out of ideas,” Karga said, putting his hand down and turning back to the horizon.

“I’m not,” Mando suddenly said, holstering his blaster.

“What are you doing?” Aili questioned, brow furrowed as she watched Mando do so.

“Here he comes!” Cara shouted, picking her rifle up again and getting ready to shoot at the TIE fighter even if it was mostly pointless.

“Mando, what are you doing?” Aili hissed out again as she watched the Mandalorian lift up the jetpack and struggle to place it on his back. She let out an annoyed huff and moved over to help him place the jetpack where it should be. She was muttering something under her breath that Mando couldn’t quite hear over the sound of Cara’s blaster fire. She moved away from him and Mando pressed a button on his vambrace to turn on the jetpack but he stayed on the ferry boat.

Moff Gideon’s TIE fighter rounded the mountain and started coming their way dead on. It seemed he had decided to cut his losses and just kill them all. He hadn’t shot at them yet and Mando seemed to be waiting for him to get closer, staring down the TIE fighter as it got closer. Moff Gideon started to shoot down the path, coming their way with weapons hot when Mando was suddenly in the air above him.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Aili stated as she watched Mando use his whipcord launcher to hitch a ride on the TIE fighter. They climbed out of the ferry boat now that Moff Gideon’s attention was solely on Mando. “Cara, remind me, if he actually manages to get his feet back on the ground…”

“Remind you to sleep with him again?” Cara questioned with a smile on her face, voice low enough for only Aili to hear. The smaller woman whipped her head around to glare at the Shock Trooper who laughed for a moment. They both brought their attention back up to the sky to make sure Mando was okay. They couldn’t see much from the ground though which was doing nothing for Aili’s nerves especially since she wouldn’t be able to do anything to help him.

The TIE fighter spun a few times and Aili tensed up, barely relaxing when she didn’t see Mando go flying off the ship. There was an explosion mid-air, small enough that it must have been one of Mando’s thermal charges. Another twist from the TIE fighter and Mando was now off of the ship but Aili hoped it was on purpose because he wasn’t falling towards the ground in a controlled manner at all.

There was an explosion from the TIE and they all watched as it spun out of control, flying over their heads and crash landing behind a small mountain of rocks. Aili couldn’t even be pleased at the thought of Moff Gideon being dead and out of their hair as she watched Mando struggle to get control of his fall. He eventually managed to turn himself feet first, the jetpack finally igniting to soften his landing in front of them.

“That was impressive, Mando, very impressive,” Karga said as they met up in the middle of the lava flats.

“I think you mean stupid and reckless,” Aili muttered from behind Karga. She was glaring at Mando and hoped he could feel how annoyed she was with him. The relief of him surviving was nothing compared to how angry she was with him being so stupid sometimes. She was definitely going to make sure he knew that the next time he decided to have a dumb idea like that, she was going to take the Crest and strand him on whatever planet they were on. Even if it was somewhere like Tatooine or Jakku.

“It looks like your Guild rates have just gone up,” Karga continued like he hadn’t heard Aili’s comment.

“Any more Stormtroopers?” Mando asked, keeping his gaze on Karga for now in order to avoid the glare he was getting from Aili. He did not look forward to whatever argument she had in store for him.

“I think we cleaned up the town. I’m thinking of staying around just to be sure,” Cara said, giving Mando a smile. She had other reasons for staying, number one being that she absolutely did not want to be on the Razor Crest with Mando and Aili when they left the planet. Even if Aili was acting like she was only angry at Mando, Cara could tell what that anger would lead to.

“You’re staying here?”

“Well, why not? Nevarro is a very fine planet,” Karga stated, gesturing out towards the lava flats surrounding them.

“Uh, no offense, but I think the lava fumes have finally gotten to you,” Aili commented. Nevarro was, once again, barely fit to be called livable. She shook her head and placed Little Green down on the ground, her arms beginning to hurt from carrying him for so long in one position. Besides they were safe now so she didn’t feel the need to do so.

“Now that the scum and villainy have been washed away, it’s very respectable again.”

“As a bounty hunter hive?” Mando questioned, his tone speaking volumes to just how he felt about Karga’s statement. Even before the Stormtroopers had taken over, Nevarro had been anything but respectable. He doubted it would be considered so now.

“Some of my favorite people are bounty hunters,” Karga said, giving Mando a small tap on the shoulder before nodding his head in Aili’s direction as well. He turned to place a hand on Cara’s shoulder, “And perhaps this specimen of soldier might consider joining our ranks.”

“Yeah...I got some clerical concerns regarding my chain code,” Cara said awkwardly knowing that her chain code was anything but pretty. Probably looked more like a bounty hunter’s quarry than a bounty hunters chain code. Mando looked down when he felt Little Green’s hands on his boot.

“And if you were to agree to become my enforcer, clerical concerns would be the least of your worries,” Karga said easily before turning to look at Mando and then Aili. “But you, my friends, will be welcomed back into the Guild with open arms. So, go off, enjoy yourselves and when you two are ready to return, you will have the pick of all quarries.”

Mando bent down to pick up Little Green who let out a happy gurgle. He looked down at the child before chancing a glance over at Aili who looked a little less annoyed with him. Maybe he’d just carry Little Green at all times, she never looked over at him angrily when he was doing so. “I’m afraid I have more pressing matters at hand.”

Cara let a small smile cross her face before she reached out to run her hand down one of the kid’s ears before she backed away. “Take care of this little one.”

“Ot maybe, it’ll take care of you,” Karga said, reaching out to mirror Cara’s gesture. Mando gave a silent nod before he turned back towards Aili who looked back at him with a single raised eyebrow.

“Can we go now? Mando?” Aili asked, taking a step away when Mando took a step towards her without speaking. That wasn’t the way to the ship.

“We need to get back to the ship,” he said simply, holding Little Green out for her to take. She gave him a suspicious look before taking the kid into her arms. She figured he was still in pain from being tossed around in the air after almost dying back at the cantina. Of course once her guard was down, Mando made his move, sweeping her legs out from under her and lifting her up in his arms.

“What the kriff, Mando?!” Aili exclaimed, not able to do much with her arms full holding Little Green.

Cara started laughing loudly, watching this all go down from beside Karga who was watching them in confusion. This was not something he had expected but he really shouldn’t have been surprised at this point. He had seen the way Aili had reacted to Mando bleeding out in the cantina and Mando’s own demand that she stay close to the cantina to give cover fire. Still, the sight of one of his best bounty hunters picking up his other best hunter was a shock to see.

"You are still hurt, put me down!" Aili shouted once again, trying to get Mando to put her down. She wasn’t the one that had been wounded during the day or the one who could barely reach around to attach a jetpack.

"This will be quicker than walking,’ Mando said, like it was the most obvious thing in the galaxy.

"Excuse me?" Aili didn’t get the chance to ask any other questions before they were up in the air and heading towards the Razor Crest. “If you drop me, I swear…”

“I’m not going to drop you two,” Mando said and Aili turned her head slightly to narrow her eyes at him. She knew she hadn’t just heard him laugh at her. She kept her mouth shut after that though since there wasn’t anything else she could really say. They were already up in the air and Mando was determined to fly all the way to the ship.

Mando finally landed, feet a little unsteady on the landing since he wasn’t used to the jetpack just yet. He made a note to do as the Armorer had said and do his drills again, maybe when they made it to the planet she had said to go to. Oshriya, where Aili’s girls hopefully still were.

“Oh,” Aili let out a quiet sound when they landed. She wasn’t sure what she had been hoping for when she should have known better. As soon as Mando couldn’t hail Kuiil on the comlink she had known something had happened, but she had still held a little hope for the Ugnaught who had spent years working under the Empire to earn his freedom. Only for them to drag him into their mess. He had gotten so close to the ship too.

She held Little Green and watched as Mando made as good a grave he could for Kuiil, stacking rocks up with a bigger one at the front as a marker. He placed Kuiil’s hat and goggles on the bigger rock before he kneeled beside the grave for a short moment. If Aili really believed in anything, for all she cursed to the Maker at times, she would have said a prayer but it wouldn’t bring her any comfort.

They walked to the Crest in silence after that, getting onto the ship without any words exchanged between them. Neither of them really knew what to say or where to even start.

“I’m gonna,” Aili paused for a second, trying to gather her thoughts and failing for the most part. She felt disgusting, covered in soot and her hands still dry with blood that wasn’t hers. “I’m going to go wash up unless you want to go first?”

Mando shook his head, reaching out to take Little Green from Aili so he could watch him. “No, you go. I’ll get us out of Nevarro’s atmo and then we can switch.”

“Sounds good,” Aili said, still standing where she was until Mando finally went up to the cockpit. She stood there for another moment before shaking herself out of her thoughts and she headed for the ‘fresher where she could try to clean away the events of one of the worst days of her life.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x original character #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x oc

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the-toppat-king · 4 years

Text

Chapter Eight: Brothers at Heart

Sven groaned a bit as he woke up.

For a moment the Swed lay on the stiff bed of the med bay, staring at the ceiling. A dull pain spread through his back, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been the past few days. Sighing, Sven rubbed his eyes and slowly sat up. Thomas sat nearby, reading, and Sven felt a familiar relief at seeing him.

Since they were caught he'd been having nightmares. The first night he had dreamt that they hadn't been captured, but rather killed in front of him. He had screamed when he woke up, but thankfully hadn't had that one again since the two escaped while he had been unconscious. The new nightmare was that their escape was only a dream. He'd wake up in the nightmare and they'd be gone again.

"A', you're awake."

Sven glanced up, smiling as he saw Right in the doorway.

"Hey, Right. How's Henry doing?"

"You two are so predictable, 'Enry asks the same question every time 'e sees Reg and I." Right laughed a bit. "'E's adjusting. Not easy 'aving a new spine, I suppose, but he's toug'ing it out. Pretty sure the doc might be keepin' 'im 'ig' on pain killers whenever s'e's not working on 'im."

"How's Reginald handling it?" He frowned. "He's not overworking himself, is he?" Sven couldn't imagine how hard it had to be for Reginald. He loses one son and almost loses the other in one day, immediately gets the first son back and then loses him again. Sven hadn't been there, but he'd heard that Reginald had seen Henry die. Even if it was only temporary, it couldn't have been easy. Hell, it was hard for him to even hear about.

"No, 'Enry gave 'im an order to take it easy and consider 'is limits. It ain't easy on eit'er of us, but we'll manage." Right walked over, sitting down by him. "But 'ow are you doing, Sven? I know you've been 'aving nig'tmares."

"Thomas told you?" Sven rubbed his arm, shooting Thomas a glare.

"I've done nothing of the sort! Reginald checks on you occasionally." He didn't even look up from his book, licking his thumb to turn the page. "It's not my place to tell anyone if you don't want to talk about it.

"T'omas is telling the truth." Right frowned. "And Burt c'ecks the cameras when 'e gets up in t'e morning. 'E's seen you wake up screaming."

Goddammit Burt.

"Yeah, I..." Sven sighed, looking at his feet. "...it's nothing. There's just...a lot of guilt."

"W'y?"

"If it wasn't for me getting hurt, Henry wouldn't have been captured and he wouldn't be injured. He shouldn't have stopped for me."

"Sven."

The blonde looked up at Right as he took his hand.

"W'at 'appened was not your fault." He told him sternly. "I told Reginald this and I'll tell you the same t'ing, Dmitri s'ot you, Dmitri s'ot 'Enry, Dmirti is w'y t'is all 'appened. And Dmitri is not getting away wit' t'is. I know w'at I'm saying won't stick at first, and I know it won't stop the guilt. It won't stop the nig'tmares or make you feel better yet. But for now I need ya to know t'at you couldn't 'ave prevented this. Someone would 'ave been caug't no matter w'at. Dmitri would not 'ave been satisfied wit' just you. I mean, t'ere was a fuckin' riot, and t'e man focused on 'Enry, C'arles, Ellie and T'omas just because t'ey started it and ruined 'is reputation."

"I know..."

"So don't blame yourself." Right sighed. "I know it ain't gonna be easy, Sven. I never said it was, but you gotta fig't off t'ose t'oug'ts t'at it was your fault, because it wasn't."

The blonde sighed, nodding. "Alright, Pa." He paused a moment, taking a breath. "Do you think I could see Hen?"

"If you can prevent Reg from bein' a mot'er 'en for an 'our or two." Right grinned. "It's no good for you to stay in the med bay all day."

Sven smiled...

"Although you get to ask Dr. Vinsc'pinsilstien."

...and immediately deflated. He didn't know much about the woman, only that she was a former Toppat Clan member and she had a grudge. He knew she was a member around the time Terrence was leader, and while he only met her a handful of times(typically when he got dragged into Henry's mischief), she had always intimidated him a bit. But he understood asking her himself, he was an adult, after all.

Also she might be a tad bit angry if I just show up. Sven thought with a wince. We're lucky that she even agreed to save Henry in the first place, we should not antagonize her.

"That's fair, I suppose." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Thank you for letting me see him, Dr. Vinschpinsilstien."

"Mhm. I have a feeling it would have ended in a fight if I said no."

"Why is that?"

"Just a hunch." She muttered. "Toppats are stubborn people who don't usually take no for an answer."

"Dr. Vinschpinsilstien." Sven paused. "We are not in any kind of place to make demands of you or make you angry. We're lucky you even decided to stabilize Henry, let alone perform the surgery to save him."

"Eh, I can't complain much. He's not bad company, and he's quite bright."

"...are we talking about the same Henry Stickmin? The man climbs in vents."

Dr. Vinschpinsilstien laughed a bit. "Never outgrew that?"

"Well his first week of leader I caught him stuck in the vent above his desk. I still have no clue how he got up there or why."

"Eh, he's a small man. Probably just likes small spaces."

With that, she opened the door.

Sven stood silently a moment.

Henry was talking quietly with Charles, but what really caught his attention was the lack of a shirt and the fresh scars the marked his pale skin. His left side, around his shoulder area, was scarred horribly and the entire arm, shoulder included, was gone. The new arm itself was detached, laying on Henry's lap while he worked on it. There was a piece of metal with a part to connect the arm to on where the shoulder once would have been. His chest was scarred horribly as well. One long scar went down his chest, where Sven assumed his heart had been removed. A light glowed brightly on the center of his chest, fading and brightening with the rhythm of a heartbeat.

Scars also crossed his face, one going from the bottom right half of his face up near the top corner of his left eye and a couple down the left side of his face. His left eye was dull, pupil cloudy. Blind.

Sven didn't think he wanted to see his back.

Suddenly Henry looked up, noticing his adoptive brother standing there. A grin spread across his face and he set his arm aside, practically jumping up. "Sven-"

-and immediately Henry was falling forward.

The blonde just barely managed to dart forward in time to catch him. "Henry!"

"Eh, sorry, this is going to take some times to get used to." He laughed a bit as Sven shifted to prop him up. "Doc says it'll take some time before I can-"

"Before you can even stand!" She finished. "And not just time, physical therapy! You're not going to recover if you're so reckless!"

"Sorry, Doc." He replied, voice a bit quieter. Sven blinked at him, something hitting him.

He's talking to them.

"Эти проклятые Топпаты." Dr. Vinschpinsilstien muttered, leaving. "Они собираются убить меня!"

"You're talking." Sven looked at Henry. "Since when?"

Henry glanced at Charles with a goofy grin. "What can I say? For a government pilot, he's not that bad. Ellie's pretty cool, too, and the doctor is good company when she's not annoyed."

"Hey, uh." Charles suddenly stood, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sven, right? I...I'm sorry. If I hadn't run into you guys, you wouldn't have been hurt and Henry wouldn't have gotten caught."

Sven stared blankly at him. He...apologized? For what?

"If it wasn't for me getting hurt, Henry wouldn't have been captured and he wouldn't be injured. He shouldn't have stopped for me."

Oh.

For some reason it hadn't occurred to him that anyone else involved would be feeling some kind of guilt. How could that not occur to him? Thomas and Reginald saw him fall, Ellie was the person just before him on the ladder, Geoffery left him and Charles was the one to ask for help.

Do I even blame him? Sven loathed the government, of course. He didn't think there was a Toppat who didn't.(Except maybe Henry, but Henry was always a bit of an odd ball.) But could he really blame Charles for doing his job?

Both of them were there at the wrong time.

"It isn't your fault." Sven avoided his eyes as he helped Henry back to the bed. "Trust me, I get it, and I get that it isn't going to be easy. But just remember that this is all Dmitri's fault. You got involved because of the way he runs the wall, right? If he weren't a goddamn dictator, you wouldn't be involved."

Charles blinked a couple times, then smiled. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Besides, I need to focus on taking them down!"

Optimist, much?

"We need to focus on taking them down." Henry corrected. "The government's agreed to get off our back for a while if we help."

"What? A-are you serious?" Sven straightened up, and Charles rubbed the back of his neck.

"I mean...we can't actually prove you've done anything illegal yet? As a group, I mean. We can try to take down your leaders, but as a whole we can't touch the Clan itself." He admitted. "It's why we sent Henry on board, to either capture Reginald or the Right Hand Man or find evidence that would let us make an arrest. But, uh, that backfired."

"It almost didn't." Sven admitted. "I wasn't there, but from what I've heard, Henry was very close to handing Reginald over. He only decided against it because leadership of the Toppat Clan was better in the long run."

Henry nodded. "...although, that might not be an option anymore."

"...what?"

"Dr. V thinks it might be best if I step down." Henry admitted. "...and I don't think she's wrong. My heart and arm, fine, I can deal with that and it won't slow me down. But my spine had to be completely replaced, along with my ribs. My spine is actually exposed, all it takes is one gunshot for the cybernetics keeping me alive to start failing. One mission gone wrong, or one rouge Toppat who gets unhappy with my leadership..."

"...and it'd be easy to take you out." Sven finished quietly. "But...if you don't come back, what will you do? Do you have anywhere to go?"

"Dr. Vinschpinsilstien offered me a job here if I want it. Look, I won't abandon you guys right now, I won't make any concrete decisions until..." Henry glanced at Charles. "Well, you know."

Until the rocket launches. Sven guessed. "...I don't want to lose you again."

"...I know. I don't want to say goodbye, either. But...you guys will always be family, don't get me wrong, but I just...I don't think my place is with the Clan anymore. I...I don't think it has been for a long time."

Sven sighed, sitting on the end of the bed as Henry returned to tinkering with the arm. His heart sank a bit, but he knew Henry was right.

It wasn't safe for him to come back permanently. Henry had been a Toppat once, but he wasn't anymore and Sven knew that. He reasoned that it wasn't like they couldn't call, and they would have to come back to Earth for raids. They could see each other every once in a while.

"Y'know." Charles spoke up. "Uh, we do fund Dr. Vinschpinsilstien."

Sven looked at him, confused.

"Her research, I mean. And in exchange we get to be some of the first people to test out her cybernetics. So, uh, if Henry actually did want to work with her, we might be able to get him a pardon under the reasoning that he works with us. I mean, she...doesn't really work for or with us, but who cares about technicalities?"

"...you'd do that?"

"Of course! Henry's my friend! Also we do owe him for the whole kidnapping thing." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I, uh, don't know why the General thought that was a good idea."

"Ellie gets pardoned first." Henry reminded him.

"Sure. We have...no idea what she was in there for, actually." Charles admitted. "She was a thief, sure, but it was nothing that notable."

"It doesn't matter to Dmitri." Henry muttered. "It wouldn't surprise me if he just kidnapped her without thinking and it just so happened she had a criminal record. But it's not our place to ask unless she wants to tell us."

"I hope she's willing to open up to us." Charles added. "We'll be a real Triple Threat for the Wall!"

"...why did you say it like that?"

"Charles likes to be dramatic."

"I do not-"

"You crashed a helicopter into the airship."

"I- Okay, you got me there."

Sven smiled.

At least if Henry stayed while the Clan left, he wouldn't be left alone.

And while the grief was still there, it didn't seem as bad now.

__________________________________

Translations Эти проклятые Топпаты - These damn Toppats Они собираются убить меня - They're going to be the death of me

#Chapters #The Toppat King #Dr. Vinschpinsilstien #Sven Svensson #Right Hand Man #Thomas Chestershire #Ellie Rose #Charles Calvin

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