Sweven (Adar x Elf reader)
Rating: Angst | Fluff
Summary: You did Sauron’s bidding because of a promise he made and when he was killed by Adar you were left with nothing… Or so you thought.
You didn’t know how long you had been kept in this prison, but you grew used to the dark, the lack of flames from torches you grew so accustomed to while living in the mountain. Now you were casted to the cold stones beneath Sauron’s chambers all because you had given him what you had promised… Power.
And you waited like any good servant would for his promise in return… One he did not give… Yet. You would constantly remind yourself. He will keep his promise, he will.
“My children told me there was one prisoner who refused to die.” A voice you have heard countless of times since you were taken, “Iston i nîf gîn.” He said. I know your face.
You knew his as well. You would admire him from a far as you both served Sauron in your own ways, never speaking to one another, but always there. You grew curious of the once elf now forged by darkness itself and created into a creature of the shadows.
It was his voice that intrigued you the most as it was the only thing you could truly hold onto here. A gruff and sad voice that you would hear in your dreams sometimes when the nights got too cold or the loneliness settled deep in your bones… Not that you would ever share that secret with anyone.
“I am an elf. Malnourishment does not kill me… You should be aware of that yourself… Elf.” You muttered quietly, your voice scratchy from the lack of use.
“Uruk.” He corrected you.
“Has… Sauron forgiven me?” You whispered brokenly as you blinked up at him, “I—” You coughed, “I did not mean to fail him. I swear. I didn’t have enough… I can try again. I can do better. Please tell him I can do better.” Your pleas were only met by silence and you watched him cautiously as he passed you a mug filled with water.
“Sauron is gone.” He replied, stepping back as he watched you gulf down the water in barely a second.
Your heart fell at his words, “He will come back for me then.” You murmured, shackled to the stone wall, “We have a deal.”
“Will he?” There was amusement in his voice, “It has been months since he had you chained down here.”
Months? Your throat felt dry again and you looked down at the now empty cup in your hands. Had it really been that long? “He could be continuing his plan.” You pressed wanting to believe that your wish will be fulfilled, “Him being gone doesn’t mean anything. He will return.”
“He could be...” He retorted, his gaze trailing over the tattered dress that you had been left in, “Or he could be dead.”
“He is not.” You seethed, your gaze snapping back to his.
“He is.” His grin was barely reckognizable but it was there.
“Your lies do not sway me.” You looked away from him, “Sauron isn’t dead. He can’t be, he is—”
“I killed him myself.” He proclaimed and he watched you lunge at him, the only thing stopping you was your chain.
“You…” Your breath caught in your throat as the first feeling that filled your chest was pure happiness. The joy that your master was finally gone and that you were free to do whatever you wished… To leave even, but then the loss settled in as you realized your wish would never be fulfilled. You would be left yearning for an eternity all because of a stupid elf.
“How could you.” You growled out as you slammed your fist into the ground, “Traitor!” You screamed at him, yelling profanities as he stood by and waited for you to calm down. You fell to your knees and began to weep not for your master, but for yourself. For the loss of a gift you so desperately wanted.
Adar crouched in front of you, looking down at you as if you were some wounded animal, “I have seen you in passing, always at his side. Never spoke a word, never showed emotion, always there… What did you do for him?”
“I healed him… Made him stronger…” You muttered broken as you recalled all those countless nights, brewing herbs in teas, using the magic you possessed to grow his power.
“And what did he offer you?” He asked gently as if trying to coax a wounded doe. That is what he deemed you were, a fragile doe left in a raging storm.
Your lips curled back as a grim expression took your face. Your tears falling freely as you cried in frustration and grief. You worked so very hard to please him and now here you were back to where you started… With nothing.
“I couldn’t…” Your throat tightened as you tried to speak through you cries, “I couldn’t have any… He promised he would fix me if I helped him… He promised and you took that from me!” Your anger grew as you lunged at him again, but he was quick and precise, always was with everything you have seen him do. He grabbed your wrist before you could fully swing at him and you felt yourself break in defeat as you sobbed.
“What did I take from you?” He asked again. His voice was low and gentle, his curiosity now growing.
“A family.” You replied barely above a whisper cursing the vacant womb you were blessed with since you were created, “All I wanted was a family.” Your voice broke.
He allowed you to pull your wrist free from his grasp and watched as you curled yourself into a ball, burying your face in your knees to hide your shame. Adar’s words seem to fail him in that moment as he looked at the broken elf maiden. He expected many answers to slip from your soft lips, but not that… Not when it was so close to the wish that he sought out for. The one that was granted when he was given his children. It was an answer that made him reach for your shackles and setting you free.
Your cries turned into sniffles as you felt the weight of the metal leave your ankles and you peaked up at him with hesitant curiosity.
“Are you hungry?” He asked in a gentle voice that was as rough as the stone you were used to sleeping against.
You didn’t answer with words, but a gentle nod of your head was all the confirmation he needed.
That was how you found yourself sitting at the stone table where Sauron used to dine. It was only on rare occasions that he would allow you to sit with him when he wanted to learn more about the slicers you created. You remember most nights however, you were left hungry because he was uninterested in your health. You were an elf, you only needed little to survive no matter how painful it was. Now the table was filled with orcs as they ate without fear of Sauron’s wrath.
“Why are you doing this?” You whispered sitting on Adar’s right as he sat at the head of the table. You had yet to touch your food and waited on his answer.
“He did not care for your wish as you thought he did. That is why he shackled you in such darkness after you provided no more use for him.” He explained as he took a sip of his wine.
“And you? Do you have use for me? Is that why I am up here?” You asked, accusing him of the same thing that Sauron had done.
“I am not him.” His reply was sharp as he stared at you, “I want nothing of you. You are free to leave now if you wish.”
You took in his words as you looked back to your plate. You could hear your stomach growl once the scent finally registered. You reached for the meat first and took a large bite as you contemplated on Adar’s words.
You were finally able to leave freely and that left excitement billowing in your chest, but it slowly fizzled away when you realized where would you even go? Who would want to take in a follower of Sauron? You thought and now your stomach filled with dread. They would kill you where you stood especially with the mark seared onto the back of your neck.
“Guren *glassui.”
It caught you off guard as you heard your mother language be spoken by the uruk sat across the table from you. It was clear he was speaking to you and everyone else continued with their conversation, everyone except for Adar who watched the interaction silently.
“You speak elvish? How?” You accused as your thoughts were scattered. It had been a long time since you were able to speak to anyone beside Sauron and even then it was only to agree to whatever he said. Your manners seem to evade you now as you pressed, “Thank you for what?” Was I being mocked? You weren’t sure.
This time the feast grew quiet as everyone listened in on your conversation. If uruk’s could blush you would see the poor uruk’s face turn bright red, “I asked Lord Adar to teach me your elvish words of thank you.”
Oh… Your gaze softened as you looked at him, “Why would you want to know my language?” You asked, but this time your tone was gentler.
“I was hurt badly… I would have died if not for your healing magic. That is why I thank you.” He explained, a shy expression overtaking his face.
“Ah…” Your voice trailed off in surprise.
You came to realize over the years you’ve been captive under Sauron’s hand that Uruk’s weren’t evil beings… Just forced to do bad things. This particular uruk, you vaguely remember helping one night while passing by the less then salvageable infirmary…
“You’re welcome.” You nodded towards the uruk, “I am glad that you survived. You did well. You all did well, truly.”
Your words seemed to brighten his and his siblings moods as the celebration continued in full. The dinning room and the rest of the mountain was filled with cheers as they celebrated their victory. Soon enough it was just you and Adar who were left at the table.
Your plate was wiped cleaned as you subtly looked for more food.
He noticed this and pushed his plate towards you, “Here.”
Your face heated up, “I couldn’t, that’s yours.”
“I’m not that hungry. Go ahead and eat before one of my children steal it from you.”
That was all you needed to hear before you were eating the rest of his meal, your stomach finally happy from being filled.
Adar watched you with mild humor and his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned back in his seat, “Have you decided what you will do?”
You wiped your mouth with your sleeve after you drank your wine. You looked towards him a small frown on your lips, “I don’t think I can go anywhere… Not with who I am… What I’ve done… I have nothing left.” You looked at the table, “He took my old life from me.”
“But not your new one.” Adar responded and you waited for him to continue as you leaned back to stare up at the stone ceiling, “You have everything to look forward to and experience.”
“But where? Who would possibly take me in when I have a mark of evil on my neck.” You spoke in frustration.
“I would.”
It was barely a whisper, but it had you sitting up to face him fully, “What?”
“I would take you. As you are. Right now.” He repeated, clear and sure this time.
“Even if I offer nothing to you?” You muttered quietly.
Adar nodded and stood from his seat, “You wouldn’t need to do anything you don’t want to.” He looked down at you with a softness in his gaze, “You could stay with my children and I.” He looked away for a moment.
It was then that he held his hand out for you to take if you wanted too as he continued, “We are not welcome in that world, but when we find our home it can be your home too… If you wish.”
You stared at his outstretched hand for a moment with entirety of emotions swirling in your chest. Fear, gratitude, anxiety… Care… This was the most you felt in a very long time and it was him… The silent brooding elf… Uruk making you feel.
His hand felt warm as you took it, a redness brushing against your cheeks as he pulled you up to stand.
“Thank you.” You whispered quietly as you looked up at him, “For offering me a home.”
“Always.”
It was a year later when you were curled up under Adar’s arm and covered by furs that kept you both warm. You breathed in his scent and listened to his slowed heartbeat as you tried to fall asleep with him, but something felt different tonight. It was only when listening to the laughter of his children that you have grown attached to just outside of your shared tent that you realized in some twisted way Sauron had given you the dream you desired… You finally had a family.
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Nearly laughed myself sick at the latest Time Travel post. Merlin going "no rebellion -> Arthur can have a little rebellion as a treat -> wait fuck rebellion is still bad" was so good.
Also. I hate Uther, and I'm so glad to see him get called the fuck out on being a shitty, abusive father. He was so awful to Arthur, I can definitely see him killing Arthur's dog because he loved it too much.
Thank you! Comedy aside, I believed necessary to show Merlin's line of thought to remind us he is from the future. Merlin went through shit, so obviously Merlin, while he's worried about the rebellion and is pretty aware of the consequences it could lead, he's not as escandalized or horrified as he should be. He even considers it fit when he finds out how abusive Uther actually was with Arthur if only for a moment, which also shows Merlin didn't know Arthur as well as he thought and that he also missed some things. In canon Merlin is only aware of one time Arthur was sent to the dungeons (when Arthur went to look for the Mortaeus Flower to save him) and one time Morgana was (In "To kill a King" when Merlin overhears Morgana talking to Tauren about how Uther chain her to a dungeon wall), but besides that, Merlin wasn't really present when Uther mistreated their children (like when Uther holded Morgana by the neck in anger) and I doubt Arthur told Merlin, not because he didn't feel comfortable to tell him exactly but rather the topic never came up. Other thing is that Merlin does notice Arthur is acting differently to the Arthur he remembers, on more than one occassion, the only thing keeping him from noticing Arthur's feelings for him is his eternal denial.
About Uther getting called out what he is, I would say the most gratifiying thing was Arthur realizing it himself. Rewatching Merlin's rant to Gaius about "not doing nothing" we all know well in the show, I thought "It would be great if Arthur had one too" so I made one. It's not as good as Merlin's but I think it matches the feeling. This Arthur is mentally forty, has been king for 15 years and has learned of all his father's wrongings in the past decade. This doesn't mean he doesn't love him, Uther is still his father, but he doesn't respect him anymore.
Also I love how the knights were like:
Knights: The Prince wants to overthrow the King! this is outrageous!😱
Arthur: He killed my dog.🥺
Knights: That is unforgivable. We must rebel!😤
Anyways, thank you for sharing your thoughts. It keeps me going 😊
If anyone else wants to make me and ask just do, I'll be more than glad to answer ❤️
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By pausing time on October 7th and excluding its aftermath, the tours reinforce that myopia, consolidating a focus on Jewish victimhood and a refusal to see Israel as the perpetrator of Palestinian suffering. In the process, they succeed in bolstering American Jews’ sense of identification with Israel. As one rabbi who participated in a Federation mission from San Diego wrote upon her return home: “I saw the result of evil. I feel more committed to Israel and its future than I have felt in a long time.
(...)
Scholars have explored the ways in which visiting sites of atrocities, however disturbing, can also be “a means to affirm and reproduce particular identities,” in the words of Duncan Light, a professor of tourism studies. Visiting the 9/11 memorial—which drew 37 million people between its opening in 2011 and 2018—can bolster Americans’ sense of patriotism, even in the face of the long and deadly wars that followed; visiting the beaches of Normandy can inspire pride not only in the Allies’s World War II victory, but in the US-led world order it produced.
(...)
Death camp tours “make the victim so much the object of identification that one comes to see oneself as if one is at the gates of the crematorium, instead of [Israel] being a country with nuclear capacity,” Feldman told me in an interview. “It becomes impossible to identify with anyone other than the victim, and the victim is me, and this is our eternal condition.”
(...)
Not unlike prior forms of Jewish “dark tourism,” the trips I joined seemed intended to reassure participants that they could support Israel while retaining the moral clarity of the victim. For example, at the end of the Kfar Azza tour, Shpak, the kibbutz member, explained that the community had once been invested in peace and co-existence efforts, “but everything was broken and trampled in our children’s blood.” Shpak told our group that in the past, he had found it painful to witness the suffering of the other side. “I admit and confess that not this time. I have no sympathy for what’s happening on the other side,” he said. Other leaders on the trips I witnessed frequently glorified the war effort. In one case, a group’s Israeli driver boasted about having driven bulldozers bigger than our large bus into buildings in Khan Younis. Various guides echoed well-worn pro-Israel talking points arguing that Palestinians are not a people, or that the Nakba—the mass dispossession of Palestinians in 1948—was not a case of ethnic cleansing. This messaging has clearly affected participants. “There aren’t a lot of ‘innocent’ Gazans,” one member of a rabbinic trip wrote in a blog post. “After hearing the stories from those who were there, I am truly sad to say that this is the reality.” Greg Harris, a rabbi from Bethesda, Maryland, who led a trip for his congregation, told me that while, in the US, “it is perceived that Israel is retaliating against the Palestinian people,” in fact “that is not what is happening”—a truth that participants grasped “just by being there in Israel.”
(...)
As I walked through the festival grounds, the earth was literally shaking beneath me. The artillery fire and explosions from Gaza were the loudest thing I’d ever heard in my life, and everyone, myself included, instinctively jumped at each blast. Just two words into the kaddish that one tourist recited for the festival victims—yitgadal veyitkadash—an explosion sounded so closely and powerfully that I felt the vibrations in my spine. And yet, aside from their reflexive flinching, the tour guides did their best to ignore the din.
When trip leaders did acknowledge the sight of Gaza on the horizon, it was usually to emphasize how close danger lies to the Gaza Envelope communities. Standing at a lookout point over the enclave, Ehrlich, the tour guide, gestured back at the Israeli city of Sderot behind us, saying, “See the beautiful houses being built despite years of attacks?” And when trip leaders made note of the sounds of death all around us, it was only to assure us that we were safe. “Don’t worry too much about the booms. They’re our booms. They’re not coming in on this end,” one group I followed was told. And, later: “You’re going to hear a lot of booms. There’s currently something going on in Khan Younis, literally across the border here. It might shake you up a little bit, but don’t worry, it’s us, not them.”
(Emphasis mine)
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Fairy Prince - Hearts of Leviathans - Ch.34
Character: Sky x male reader, Riven x male reader, Brandon x male reader
Universe: Somewhere in Winx Club/Saga
Warnings: Non-consensual advances
(Please welcome our beloved, golden retriever-like, loyal, maybe a little possessive guy, Brandon…I mean…Sky.)
When we finally get to the house, I ask the soldiers to let us down again. Although my new friend's knees were still pretty wobbly, she could stand mostly independently with some help.
“I give you permission to leave!” The two soldiers salute once more before disappearing into the ground and returning to where they belong.
“They were good men, weren’t they?”
I couldn't help but sigh heavily. "According to legend, they were the best in every sense of the word," I tell her, unable to hide the sadness in my voice. "Apparently, there was once a ritual where the best soldiers of each generation were sent to join the ranks of the legendary hidden military unit of the Deep Rock Legion in case we needed an army of incorruptible and fiercely loyal soldiers. But in the long run, it ruined our population. Of the ten million we had left after the orbital crash, there are now just over seven million left, and my grandfather isn't helping."
"Your grandfather? But that would mean-"
I quickly realize my mistake. Until now, everyone thought I was trying to boast about myself by calling myself a prince. But now that I've talked too much and I'm desperate to make new friends, I know I can't lie to her anymore.
“I am the crown prince of Gyonos and, therefore, its guardian fairy, the last fairy in my world after my grandfather.”
She gasped when I shared my revelation with her, and before I knew it, she had come over to me and pressed her slightly plump body against me in a way I hadn't experienced often in my life: a hug so warm that a few tears rolled from the corners of my eyes.
For the first time in ages, I feel like I can let myself be seen crying in front of someone, and maybe it's selfish, but I take full advantage of it. I cry into her head, as she is tiny compared to me. To my surprise, she doesn't walk away but stands there and speaks in a warm, comforting voice, telling me that everything will be okay in the end and how much I want to believe her words, but I know better. I have seen the truth behind people's attentions, fallen victim to the betrayal of those closest to me, and experienced death many times. I didn't cry when he died, not after I had to let him leave my arms when our posts were overrun by those monsters. I will never be able to forgive the Scallierds or forget what they did and what they forced me to do.
I hold her for what feels like an eternity. But when I finally let go of her, she looks straight into my watery eyes. Her blue-green eyes shimmer with what I can only describe as a motherly concern, a desire to be there for me emotionally, and I couldn't be more grateful.
“You should go inside, it’s late and cold,” I tell her quietly.
She smiles kindly. "You should, too. After all, you're probably just as exhausted as I am." Her voice is warm, really like a mother's.
"Sure, but I would like a few minutes to myself before I return to my personal dark world or, more commonly known, my dorm room.“
She nods understandingly, wishes me goodnight, and goes inside, leaving me under the star-studded night sky. I wait until she's gone before turning around and looking across the large, empty field into the forest beyond. I take a deep breath, raise my right hand, and see it shaking. My magical reserves feel depleted; the healing processes and summoning of those soldiers were too much for my fairy core. I need to train; I can't even fight a specialist like this without being knocked to the ground in seconds.
I feel frustration building up inside me. How could it be otherwise? I've gone from being a prodigy in magic and weapon combat to this pathetic excuse of a fairy. I would be unstoppable if only I could access the abilities contained in the crystallized cores of my ring. But how? I hold out my hand holding the ring and marvel at it. Somehow, it only looks normal now that the two cores are in it, surrounding my family's crest in its center. Many have an initial letter, but my family decided to fill it in with our entire crest, as detailed as possible in this small form, with the only exception being that the two sword-shaft-like pieces of metal always hung off the sides. I always thought that happened over the eons the ring was used, but now that the two cores are safely clammed underneath them, I realize there should be something in them. But what? If it's for magic cores, then why aren't there three? What does my family or planet have two of?
I ponder these questions for a while, only coming back to myself when a cold breeze sends a shiver through my body. This is the best time to go back inside. As soon as I step into the building, a fleeting sigh of relief comes over me.
With my eyes closed, I enjoy the warmth heating my cold bones. But when I open them again just a minute or so later, confusion fills me. I try to reach out to protect myself, but before I can, I'm pulled off my feet, my rear end grabbed, and my front pressed against a warm, muscular body. Before I know it, my legs are wrapped around that person's waist, and we are no longer in the foyer. He carries me around until he finally forces open a door and mindlessly slams my back against a metal shelf and then my head against some boxes. A groan of pain escapes my lips as the metal stabs into my back.
But before I could react, soft lips were on mine. Shock floods through my entire being as the moment has taken me completely by surprise. My eyes widen, forcing me to stare at him. There, pressing me against the shelves and trying to push his tongue into my mouth, is Sky. I couldn't believe it. He was always so gentle and kind, but now he's carrying me around and kissing me without my consent. I try to push him away, but he feels like an immovable object, heavier than a mountain. I even punch at his rock-hard pecs as I feel myself slowly falling into him. And before I know it, our lips move in perfect harmony; my mouth even opens slightly as he grips my ass a little tighter. His tongue swallows my moan. My hands land on his back. But suddenly, I can feel him smirking against my lips, making me wonder if this is what he wanted.
My hands quickly move from his chest, where I have only shown him aggression, to his neck and pull him closer to me. What is that feeling—this warmth deep in my stomach? Or this tingling further south?
Even though hundreds of these thoughts of the strangest feelings are racing through my head, I can't let go of him. His woody smell, mixed with the sweetness of something in his mouth, intoxicates my senses. I feel the desire rising for him to continue and take what he wants.
This time, not even the thought of him and his senseless death could spoil my mood, as I feel safe and even desired in Sky's arms.
"I fucking knew it." I hear him suddenly grumble. When I open my eyes from the daze, I see Sky's blurry image, his pale face flushed and his expression serious, if not angry. When I try to say something, he pushes me roughly against the shelf, his legs pushing up. "You've wanted me since you first saw me."
I can only stare at him in confusion, but he is already kissing my neck, biting me gently, and whispering things in my ear that were dirtier than anything I'd ever heard before. Something was clearly wrong.
I hold his face in my hands and try to get him to look at me, but when he finally does, his expression turns angry. Before I know it, his hand is around my neck, his grip is tight, and he is choking me painfully.
"But then I saw you with the girl and these two huge men. I couldn't believe it! Before I could make a move, you had already gone out and found yourself some toys."
When he calls my stone soldiers "toys," my heart starts to burn. How dare he call honorable men that? He has obviously misunderstood something, but when I open my mouth to clarify, his grip on my neck tightens even further, so much so that I can hardly breathe. He seems to have lost his mind, but what can I do?
"Sky!" I barely manage to say, but he's not listening. Instead, he talks about me, telling me what a selfish wanker I am for allowing both Riven and Sky to touch me and defile my body for him.
I can't believe the Gaul of him thinking I would stay pure for him, and then suddenly, something bursts out of him that he probably didn't want to say. He shouts out what I already suspected, namely that he and Sky have switched identities.
The fact that he lied to me for so long hits me the hardest. I thought I could trust him; after all, he always came to my cell when I was a prisoner, cleaned me, and fed me one by one to torture me like the wild animals they are, but that was obviously just wishful thinking. It makes me angrier than I probably should have been, so I turn the tables. Finally, I grab him by the neck and hope he lets go, but he starts grinning in a sinister way. It sent cold sweats down my spine to see something so vicious on the face of a man who always seemed like a puppy.
"I fucking dare you," he said through pursed lips, staring madly into my eyes, "Squeeze harder, I dare you!"
I've never felt so intimidated before. Is there something wrong with him? Suddenly, his grip on my neck tightens enough to easily snap it; no doubt there will be many bruises afterward. I have to make a decision. If he keeps this up, I will surely die.
"Brandon!" I yell, making him stop. Confusion is clear on his face, his eyes glowing with dawning realization. His hand quickly withdraws. As I gasp for air, he holds me upright, one of his hands behind my head and the other trying to protect as much of my spine as possible. He begins to apologize endlessly, like a child found with his hand in the cookie jar.
I try to breathe, but my throat burns painfully. Yet, I push against his chest again; this time, he lets me down but still holds my body upright for a minute. My body is at its limit from the rapid healing before, and the now compromised state is just too much. Thankfully, it only takes a short time before the rest of the healing magic still coursing through me at least helps to ease the swelling in my throat, just enough to let me breathe evenly.
I want to lecture him, scream at him, and let all my feelings out, but his glassy eyes tell me he's not there. Hopefully, it's just the clearly smuggled alcohol and not something more serious.
I try to get past him, but he quickly tries to hold me back. He mumbles something about me catching my breath, giving me hope that even in this situation and condition, he's still trying to help me. But it feels wrong because none of this was consensual, as if he's trying to clear his conscience of what he did to me here in this... in this supply closet.
Somehow, the place we ended up in while making out makes me feel even worse. Am I just a toy to him? Did I misjudge his personality? Is he really a player who breaks people's hearts? I feel so stupid, so silly. Why did I let this happen? I could have prevented everything, but I didn't. Why?
"Please, I- I was just so overwhelmed-"
Before he can spit out his lies, all I see is red, and anger shoots through my veins, just like it did on the battlefield. Can I control it this time? My anger had always been uncontrollable, like I was an explosion just waiting to go off. But this time, in this small room, surrounded by Brandon's intoxicating scent, it doesn't seem to be able to happen, even though my anger threatens to boil over. The overall emotions just weren't there. It was almost as if the last explosion had balanced me unknowingly out.
But that couldn't be. How could the death of my true love be the catalyst for my anger to subside?
[Masterlist]
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French!Reader x TF141
Hey, soo I thought of this earlier and wanted to share it
I kept telling myself that the 141 would hate Châtelet and they would be RIGHT.
I suffer in Châtelet everytime I have to go there, so the boys will be suffering with me too
This is just some thoughts that I developed a little, so the writing might be weird
The 141 had been sent out for a mission in France, something about a french army guy having informations for them that couldn't be said over phone, Laswell words. She told John that they'd only need to go to a specific place and then a guy would pick them up in his car. But unfortunately, they had to go to the worst train station in the Parisian region. Châtelet-Les Halles. What a nightmare for them (And for everyone going there really).
None of them knew how to speak french. Sure, they'd knew some words here and there, and by 'they', really it's John who's carrying the group with the little bit of knowledge he holds for the french language. It was not pleasant. Johnny hated how they were so many people bumping into him and not apologizing like he was invisible. How rude. Kyle's head was starting to hurt from how much noise there was. They'd get weird stares from time, mostly Simon got them. 4 big guys, one with a mohawk and another tall one with a black surgical mask, a guy with british cap and a man with mutton chops is not something you see everyday.
After turning for what seemed like eternity, they finally found their exit thanks to Kyle. All of them sighed, feeling relieved that their hell was almost over, Johnny being the happiest.
Simon patted his pockets for a bit, taking his hand in and out of each one of his. Always empty handed. He had lost his ticket. Everyone's tickets actually as he was so sure that he wouldn't loose them and that no one would try to pickpocket him. Looks like he was wrong. And now, tickets inspectors are pulling all of them to the side. And the cherry on top is that they don't speak english. Surely they should know a bit but they're not even trying. Johnny was starting to feel irritated now, he just wanted to get out of there, all of them wanted that. John would be sure to call Laswell to tell her to never send any of them here again.
But thankfully, there you were. Like their gardian angel. You had seen them getting cornered as you were about to pass your card to get to the other side. Curiosity got the best of you and you simply stood aside to watch, quite far but not much. As much as you wanted to go home after a tiring day, you stayed. Far enough that it wouldn't be suspicious. You got a good look at the guys. They were… all quite attractive, you couldn't lie. Are they actors or something? You heard how the bearded one tried to speak french to the inspectors, and even though he had trouble, you could understand him very well. He had an accent, sure, but it doesn't take a genius to know what he was trying to tell them. But the inspector looked like he was playing dumb and tried to just make simple money. You hated them.
How many times have you had to pay them because of a missing ticket? Too many times.
You fumbled into your bag and pulled out a bundle of tickets. You only have them for emergency and this is one.
You don't know why you're doing this, maybe it's because you find them hot, maybe it's because you would have wanted to be helped in this situation. You went up to them, standing in front of the bearded guy and the inspector. With your biggest smile, you began :
"Désolé, ils sont avec moi." (Sorry, they're with me.) And you pratically shoved the man four tickets into his face. The 141 didn't know what was happening. Who are you? Why are you here?
"On a été séparés et c'est moi qui ai leurs tickets, mais vous connaissez Châtelet, on se perd rapidement ici." (We've been separated and I'm the one that has their tickets, but you know Châtelet, we get lost easily here.) You smiled, almost grinned but you didn't want to appear too smug as you looked at his face.
Got you.
You can't fool someone that had been fooled that many times before.
He looked down at you with a small glare before huffing and walking away. You smiled and then turned back to the guys. You just wanted to find a hole to wither away in with how intense they were starring at you. They couldn't believe what just happened.
On one hand, they were so glad that you did that for them. On the other hand, they couldn't understand why you did that for them.
Simon was glaring at you, he hadn't even noticed you before. Too much people around for him to pay attention to you.
Kyle and Johnny were britghtly smiling at you.
John looked at you, scrutinized you, trying to decipher if you were a spy before he murmured a small 'merci' with a soft smile, all of them did the same, even Simon. You couldn't possibly be a spy with how soft you looked.
It was almost cute that grown men like them would whisper like that you.
You'd give each of them their ticket, a smile on your lips, brushing your fingers with them. You didn't focus on your accent so you must have sounded so cliché to them.
"Don't loose them, they are too fucking expensive. Also they are for the whole day, you can use them for the bus too, until midnight. Just like cinderella."
You'd chuckle. Johnny's grin got widder as you spoke english and joked slightly, he tried to speak as clearly as possible for you as he knew that his accent could be hard to understand.
"You speak English, hen?"
"Yes, I do. And I must say, that inspector? What an asshole. I'm sure he knew what you were trying to say." You roll your eyes after giving the last ticket to the pretty man with the cap before turning back to look for the inspector. Before anyone could say something else, thanking you again with better words, you turned back to them.
"Where do you want to go? I could help you." John almost stuttered as he replied too quickly.
"Thank you, love, but we know how to take it from here. Thank you a lot." You smiled at him, and to the other guys too. "You're welcome." You say as you take a few step back, you were going to take the rer D and it was almost rush hour. You hate rush hour, just like everyone.
"I need to go now, I don't want to be caught in too much crowd." You wave to them, dissapearing in the crowd of people. The guys were still quite in shock before John took the reigns to exit this station. All their tickets passed without any problem and, finally, they were out of there. Kyle was the first one to speak.
"We should have asked for her number." "That's what I was thinkin' about!" Johnny replied, pratically groaning. John was deep in his thoughts, just like Simon but for different reasons. John was telling himself that he should have stopped you and give you money or offer you a coffee for compensation, but you were too fast as you left. Simon was still trying to think when he'd lost the tickets, frustrated with himself.
But one thing is sure, you were their angel that day. They'd think of you for the whole time they'd be in France, hoping to run into you again.
(If there's any grammar mistakes, feel free to correct me!)
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